Vere gave a wave as the two parted, arriving at a glossy metallic chassis with white trim. As he approached it it hummed, operating with a hum as neon lights lit up in its lining. The two doors sliding past each other beneath the translucent glass opened up to a lavish looking interior coupled with several wires dangling from the ceiling. They were plugged into all sorts of things, most notably coiling around a long, rectangular shape that stuck out from the velvet floors like an outcropping. It looked like a console, fit with several orifices to insert smaller rectangular shapes into, valves, and particles of light that danced and shimmered like flowing streams of data.
"Huh, it looks pretty cool. How about that?" Remarked Vere as he leaned forwards with an excited glimmer in his deep black eyes. The unfathomable pools of black shone like a ray of moonlight lacing past crowded willow trees and glancing off a river that flowed at its own leisure.
One that chose how fast it was going, what direction. That body of water was the master of itself, the master of its ravine. Vere was the same way, he was someone that reigned in that sensation of freedom, taking his own time to do what he likes and when he likes.
And he currently would like a change of clothes right now. It would be a nice palette cleanser...and what better way is there to get ready to do something than dressing up for it? Currently, he didn't have the answers to debate his query.
Tak, fwip, zip. Rustle, rustle..clack! With dextrous, and expeditious movements his arms took a life of their own! Quickly undoing the zipper, a smile bloomed over his neutral, apathetic countenance as his eyes arched into crescent moons.
'Jackpot.'
It was a black t-shirt that felt like silk that found its way onto his body first. Suspenders even darker than the night itself were slung to the side, the simple fabric carrying a faint ghostly looking pattern that was only noticeable upon closer inspection. He fastened the loose tie it came with, noting the subdued silver tigers that were ingrained on either side of the fabric. Down the middle was a kanji that read Machine Gun, Fire!
After donning the similarly tinted pleated pants with sleek crisscrossed lines lining its entirety down to where it ended at his ankles, he buckled up the belt that had three miniature metal designs engraved upon it. It was a queen, a king, and a bishop, all made a bit more ornate due to their highly stylized look and fanciful script beneath it--it read Checkmate!
And last but not least were the grieves. They were fit with all that future charm but also perfectly encapsulated the medieval feel with its blackened iron frame. They were sleek, cold to the touch, and fitted with a carved design that greatly pleased Vere's aesthetic sense. A winding wisteria tree surrounded its bodice, vivid yet abstract like an elaborate crest.
"I feel like a new man....is this what those monks refer to when they talk about rebirth?" Vere mused to himself humoredly as he slid on the new pair of gloves Donovan thoughtfully included with it. He tilted his head this way and that as he took one off again, observing his hand for the first time as he sat back on the comfortable seating behind him.
There were all sorts of old wounds that marred its surface, both behind and before it. His graceful fingers were splotched with patches of darkened skin--reminders of a burn that happened a long time ago. There were many long slits and gashing oatches of somewhat lighter skin, probably from being cut in various ways. There were even indentations reminiscent of old bullet wounds, and the scars curved from the back of his hand and sat there on the edges of his palm.
His other hand was quite similar. Aside from the mysterious feeling the markings gave, a feeling that felt as if it was emanating something only a select few would be able to witness even a little of its origin. It evaded perception--though the man couldn't tell if that was merely due to his own wishes or not.
Vere sighed. He swiftly encloaked his hands once more, failing to notice the runes that slithered and writhed on the surface of his skin as he put his gloves on. The motif of a spiritual ghost with an evil face was on the back of it as well, it's horns sticking to the material with abstract parts and cascading hair flowing around the first segments of the fingers.
He grinned a bit at this, his mouth forming an even smile. Those baleful eyes it had...those were to his taste as well.
He held a hand up to the nicely encased doors, his pushing of one led to the sliding of the other. Revolving on his heel with a hand on his waist, Vere's eyes narrowed in a good humor as he looked at the exterior of the Virtual Chamber once more.
Scutinizing it a bit, he gave a slow chuckle as his mighty chest heaved without much fluctuation. 'Reminds me of a refrigerator now that I think of it. You think they have a freezer mode? Would be nice to chill out in there...a nice glass of wine would elevate that to a heavensent experience, no?'
Vere punctually strolled down the sanitized corridors with a slight bounce in his step, most predominantly in his heels. As he passed Donovan peeked out of a doorway, and their heart stopped as tears welled up beneath their mask.
'Wow...he's hotter than anything I've ever seen...and he looks damn cool! I didn't just snag a catch, I caught the whole ocean...!' The figure gave a thumbs up in appreciation as they shuffled between the rooms, gathering more Suspect materials to process for their tailoring.
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Shoegazer music with a desolate undertone beneath its psychedelic surface filled Vere's ears as he left the Old Westwood Headquarters. Texting Gunther for some details, he was thinking about the fees of the Quantum Subway Trains as he walked underneath the dreary light filtering through the thin fog lining the streets.
Hovering cars shuttled past every now and then, and some people crowded together in the alleyways. Vere guessed there was a bitter chill to the air, but strangely, he didn't feel uncomfortable at all.
>Mont Blanc: Alright, I'm interested in what you were talking about earlier.
>TvTMAXIM: Woah, nice name man. You mean Death Matches, or Lure De Flare in particular?
>Mont Blanc: Both. Fill me in on the details, or at least tell me where I can find one.
>TvTMAXIM: Sounds cool, bro. You don't mind if I call you bro, right? Everyone kinda mocks me for my hobby, I've only met like three people that think it's cool. Hey, if you see Welda there, tell her I said hi.
>Mont Blanc: If it makes you happy then do whatever you want. If you want to be bros or whatever, text me when you wanna hang out or something. Anyways, the place?
>TvTMAXIM: Right, right! Well, it's like this. Lure De Flare is hella popular in Westwood, so you can find them in ANY of the four cardinal districts. They have these little shuttles underneath the City, and these platforms take you to em. Look for a neon sign at an oblique angle, it's prolly behind some ruined old buildings. You can't miss it man.
>Mont Blanc: Cool. Thanks for the help.
Vere turned the panel of light off as the SAD reabsorbed it, quickly rounding around some winding roads and keeping an eye out for the more dilapidated part of the district. Old Westwood looked worn--aged, but not exactly in shambles. The part that was should be relatively easy to spot, he thought.