Who: Jaz Parks and OPEN When: Backdated to 01/02/10. Where: Downtown. What: Jaz's arrival, and buying something far, far more appropriate to wear than a horribly torn t-shirt and shorts. Then to a bar. Any bar. Really. Rating: TBD Status: Incomplete, open.
Jaz was freezing. She looked like her clothes had been thrown through a paper shredder. And it was winter. That didn't make for a very comfortable situation. She was thankful that she still had her purse, for some semblance of cash (and Grief, which was hidden at the bottom), but she still absolutely could not walk around in these bloody, torn clothes.
Part of her wondered how common an occurrence this was, because no one seemed bothered by the fact that she looked like she'd encountered an axe murderer and lived to tell the tale, but no one seemed to be batting an eyelash. She also had to wonder how bad she'd looked back at home, because it looked, by the sheer volume of blood on her shirt, like she should be dead about fifteen times over. Shaking her head, she hugged herself and walked into the first clothing store she found.
Jeans were far more appropriate than shorts, and long sleeved blouses definitely made more sense. She paid cash, since she had a fair amount on her, then quickly changed in the bathroom, using the sink there to wash her face. Now? She needed a drink or twelve. Or more. She walked calmly into the first bar she saw, eyes wandering around as she walked up and took a seat. "Strongest drink you have, please," she called to the bartender.