A flock of //Galactica's// female contingent descend on the local dress shop. Tavo comes in for the assist.
Location: Argentum Bay
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 984
Swarming, one might say, with Colonial Forces finally getting a true break from the war. Canceron was the eye of a storm; a terrible, terrible storm. But this? This is a week on a planet controlled by humanity. A week where, when given shore leave, they can go shopping. Eat at restaurants. Simply be human for a time. And with a formal ball on the order, many of the women from the Galactica are finding themselves in need of something other than their home naval dress uniform. Some willingly, others coerced by their friends. This particular shop is not high-end, but it's also a good couple steps above high school prom. It's classy without breaking the bank and sits in a row with a few other shops where one might find good civvy attire if they're in need.
Niemec is one of those more along for the ride than leading the charge, though she already has a purchase in hand. A blended, iced coffee. Because you can't get that on a battlestar. And while the other ladies who have fallen in with their group chatter away, she just sips at it while looking around in the shop; nothing has explicitly caught her eye as of yet, but at least she's looking.
Being human is an oddly alien experience after the experiences in the jungles of Canceron, and it took some cajoling to nudge Cate onto the shore leave party. Still wearing her uniform, since she has nothing else to wear, she stands quietly with the group. Her eyes travel over the store's wares without really settling on anything in particular.
There's no mistaking the red hair appearing over the tops of the dress racks, as Eva makes her way back from the rear of the store, a dress, no, make that about four dresses, folded over her arm, as she makes her way back towards the group. "Alright, so, I mean...what can you do with that red?" Exactly nothing, that's what. Damned those Virgons. A grin, in Cate's direction, "Am I right, Doc?" It's a misery perhaps only a Hibernian can appreciate.
As the ladies were preparing for this trip, Cap was proof of just how in dire need of it they were. The farm girl evidently mustered out with no more than two Aerilon militia uniforms (duty and dress - and neither particularly colorful or feminine), a few shirts and a pair of denim coveralls, along with one reasonably cute, but old fashioned, hand-me-down, and hardly formal ball-suitable yellow cotton sundress. It's still the latter of these that she's chosen for the trip down to the planet, just to wear something other than a uniform, to get a chance to feel like a girl for a bit. Also, it's practical, given the warm climate! Once they actually make it planetside, she only continues to reinforce her small-town image, gawking at every tall building, having trouble navigating the thicker crowds, and staring wide-eyed at every shop, vendor, food stall, fashionable native woman and hot local dude that they pass. It's all so terribly overwhelming!
The store itself is no better. "I... I don't even know where to start. These are all so pretty!"
Niemec, on the other hand, does have civvies. Not a lot of them, nor are they very 'cute' worthy. A couple pairs of jeans and a handful of fairly bland t-shirts. It's one such combo that she's currently wearing, paired with her uniform boots. The woman makes a sort of pained sound as Eva brings up the red. As if she had, for a fleeting moment, entertained thoughts that her part in this outing would go entirely forgotten. "Black?" It's a wholly unhelpful suggestion as she takes another long sip of her frapp. Like Cate, she is out of her element.
Cate hears her 'name' and glances over. "Sorry, what?" She was distracted. Something about red? "The red one?" Which may or may not make sense depending on whether Eva has a red dress on her arm. "They're all nice," she offers, also probably unhelpfully.
Dr. Acacia Vedjovic is just in from Caprica, herself; translated through a surface hub to Galactica, and there having spent the better part of the last day and a half getting her affairs in order, she finds herself arrived just at one of those lulls in the action no doubt welcome to the crew, but somewhat unnerving to one just adjoining herself-- it's rather like hastening up a flight of stairs and taking one more step than is necessary-- the foot falls through phantom space and leaves you just off-center with a random ball of unexpended energy festering in the pit of the stomach. Still, there's no sense not taking advantage of some time on the surface. A stroll with a cup of tea from a vendor held in both hands leads her past some shops, none of them very impressive. Yet there is a flurry of planetside crew about the place, so she slows in observation, taking a moment to finish up her tea outside before making any attempt to enter.
Eva laughs, shaking her head at Cate. She's doing her best, she really is, to raise the tone of a decidedly, and deservedly down group. Coming back from where they've been.."I mean our dress blues. How do you even match something with that red that won't make you look like an exploded tomato?" She finds one of the empty racks that dot the floor, allowing the shoppers to look at each dress in detail, "Any thoughts, Squeak?" Red IS a hard colour to match, and so Eva hasn't tried. Instead she's selected four different pastel and silver shades, to compliment Niemec's colouring.
"What even counts as formalwear?" Cap is asking as she shuffles through a rack; the dresses on it are chic, but rather daring. "I feel like a half of these would get me written up." The local economy being biased toward the beachside clubs and nightlife makes it all a bit less sophisticated but a great deal more daring than what the Caprican equivalents might offer. "This is... oh gosh." She'd paused to hold one pretty sky-blue number up, only to realize it's rather sheer, as well as the upper portion being a crisscross setup that doesn't exactly cover a lot. "Nope." HALP.
There's a look over the dresses that have been laid out, but Niemec doesn't look particularly certain about any of them. Not right off the bat. She looks sidelong at Cap and can't help but smirk at the mention of being written up. "Isn't being written up at a ball a worthy reason?" Sluuuuuurp. She's about finished her frapp, alas. But there is one particular piece that she does gravitate towards. It's more of a cream, with silver accents. "This... might work with red," she offers, a bit hesitantly, with a look towards Eva. As if she's not sure she's said the right thing.
Eva glance over to Cap, as she starts to peruse the racks, "Nothing at the knee, that would be cocktail wear. Usually floor length, fancy fabrics. Slinky or flowing, as you like. Part of the fun of going to these things, I think, is trying to see just what you can get away with, actually." Sagenod to Niemec. The woman knows what's going on. "I think...it's very beautiful. But how daring are we going?" She considers, "Just a mo, I think I know just the thing." She holds up a finger, and pops back off.s
Vedjovic dips her head slowly, sipping slowly at the remnants of her tea and leveling a dark grey stare toward those gathered within. Finally, with a shifting glance to one side to check her mark aforetimes, she lets slip her disposable cup into a bin outside of the store and straightens, one shoulder back, the other arm nudging the door, opening the way, letting her slip through with quiet tread. She lets the conversation go, more interested in its participants than the goods on display. Finally, "I agree," she affirms, "I like a soft off-white or a cream on a redhead." It's only her opinion, but delivered with a tone of confidence.
Cap makes a face at Niemec. "No!" She's awfully well-intentioned, at least where there are no air or spacecraft to joyride. Her one vice. "I just, I want to look nice. Presentable! I've never really been to anything so, uh, highbrow. Either that or I just wore my uniform. Before that it was all..." Hoedowns and squaredances? Probably better she doesn't share any more details! Eva, though, proves her savior, at least with some basic rules to follow, which cause the young woman to listen studiously, nodding her understanding. "Ok. Full length. Slinky or..." Now she's unsure again, but at least she has some goalposts.
Cate smirks at Eva. "Yeah the exploded tomato look never looks good on anyone." She mumbles, in Celtan, her voice dry and pitched low enough that probably only Eva can hear clearly, <<Especially the roosters.>> Her eyes glaze over a bit at all the details of the dress choices, then looks to Cap. "Yeah me either. Slinky sounds like a good choice regardless." Vedjovic gets a faint smile when she joins the conversation.
"If you're that afraid," Niemec notes to Cap, "you could just wear your dress uniform." Which is what she would do if a certain redhead would allow her. Sadly, she's not being allowed to get away with it. Especially not since aforementioned redhead learned about a certain Virgon. She finishes off her own drink and aims to duck out of the shop to toss it out, passing by Vedjovic on the way. There's a nod for the woman and the Raptor pilot is soon returning. She pauses by a shelf of shoes- at least something has caught her eye. In this case, it's a pair of heels with those sort of straps meant to wrap their way up the ankles.
"You'll know when it's right, Cappie. You'll put it on and never want to take it off." A snerk, at Cate's words, answering her in the same tongue, <<with only the rare exception.>>. A smile, to the tall brunette who enters in to the conversation, "Ah, a woman who knows fashion." When she sees Niemec distracted by shoes, she tugs out the rack she brought back from the back. It's has a dress in stark black, but made of something at once lacy and voluminous. "What about this, Antonie?"
Vedjovic warms subtly to the reception-- while her features may read coolly aristocratic, the smiles of greeting engender a less imperious expression. She smiles, in turn, something gracious and almost cheeky when her fashion sense is acknowledged. "You're from Galactica. In preparation for this Friday's affair." It's, again, a supposition, but, not being unfounded in sound good sense, she doesn't really ask so much as offer up her supposition as fact unless someone disputes her on it.
"Oh no," Cap answers back at Niemec, once more in the negative, shaking her head and sounding full of conviction. "I've never been able to afford something nice or go to anything like this before... so there's no way I'm frakking missing out, now! I wanna go in there and blow everyone away." She may have been a farmgirl, but... no more! Enter the fiesty pilot. She glances over at Cate, and echoes her own thoughts with a nod before turning to the rack and digging a bit. "I think so. Huge sounds kinda..." she waves a hand vaguely, "old fashioned? Traditional? I've had a life time of that! I wanna look like some trendy Caprican actress from the vids." Now she starts pulling out a few items, gathering up a selection for committee approval?
"I'd probably trip and kill myself in something that long," Cate says when she sees Eva's dress, her mumbled comment in the other language getting a flash of a smirk and a little shrug. Vedjovic's assumption gets a nod. "That's right. You?" A curious look is slanted at the tall woman, even as she smiles faintly towards Cap's enthusiasm.
When her name is spoken, Niemec looks up and over to the dress revealed. She may try to hide her interest, but there's no success in wholly doing so. The black appeals to her in a way something bright or pastel never could. The shoes are abandoned as she gives a nod to Vedjovic's assumptions. "We are at that." The Captain completes passage across the shop to reach out and lightly ouch the fabric of the gown. "It is gorgeous," she admits in a quiet voice.
Eva waits, for Niemec to look over the dress, clearly having selected it for the brunette, and not for herself, "Maybe with your hair down, some waves?" Seeing as the pilot usually seems to wear her hair in the perpetual professional soldier's braid. A glance over to Cap, "Maybe you should go with something short then. Maybe something metallic, bronze maybe, or copper? To contrast your hair and complexion?"
Vedjovic says nothing of the gown on presentation by Eva, only regarding it with a smile which tightens faintly at the corners, which may be its own sort of sentiment, of a tacit nature. "Ah-- yes," she's roused back to the conversation, lifting her chin. "I've just been added to Galactica's medical team. Dr. Vedjovic," she intrduces herself. "Acacia," and also her first name, which should, by all rights, sound more approachable and accessible, but, taking into account the aristocratic pronunciation of her praenomen, somehow does the opposite.
Cap is definitely putting some thought into it as she digs and digs and digs, picking up dresses, comparing them, returning some, yet slowly gathering options. The first couple picks are in white or light cream, peach, pink, etc - she goes naturally for the lighter colors, with how pale and bright she is. But the idea for trying something metallic does seem to open her to something she hadn't even considered, and she returns for another round of digging. New prizes are added, others discarded. They may need to have someone go through and tidy things up once she's left the disaster area behind. Eventually, she has a few solid options: a blush pink full-length strapless tull lace gown, a similarly strapless cream one with a split over one leg and some decorative white lace and silver embroidered patterns, and two metallic, per Eva's direction. The first is almost white-gold, pleated and ankle-length with a haltar top, and the other a more fully shimmery silver, this one revealing both a leg and featuring a rather plunging neckline. The farmgirl is at least serious about wanting a more grown-up look!
"Nice to meet you," Cate offers to Vedjovic. "Cate Rhodes - medic." And marine, judging by her uniform. Seeing Cap pick out some dresses, Cate gestures toward the strapless cream one. "I think that one would look really nice on you." She sidles away from Niemec and Eva a little, picking up on something there and leaving them to their conversation.
"Maybe." Niemec is, at the very least, giving the gown proper consideration. Black was a good choice for the Tauran. She spends some time looking it over, letting the fabric run through her fingers. How often do they get to touch such nice things? Other than, perhaps, those who have frilly underthings? She finally gathers it up and glances towards the dressing rooms. "I'll... I'll be right back." And thus the Raptor pilot departs to see how the dress fits.
Isolde hasn't moved from the chair she slumped down in, face buried in a ratty paperback. She has been pretty much in innocuous mode since she tagged along, more like a small shade following after without much to add. She looks up slightly when Cate introduces herself, and blinks as she realizes she suddenly surrounded by a lot of women and a lot of dresses. "Oh, ah... what?" Good to see her recent return to Tauron has had positive influences on her social skills... right?
"And you," Vedjovic answers Cate with a moment of direct eye contact and a dip of her chin in appreciation for the medic, with whom, of course, a relationship starting out on the right foot will go a long way in time. She drifts, rather than consciously moves, past, and slowly begins to pick up this dress, then that dress. It's a casual sort of perusal, something that wouldn't stand out as odd at first glance, but anyone watching her carefully might pick up on the fact that she doesn't really seem to be dress-shopping so much as picking up after Cap, sorting her leavings on the trial rack with a delicate touch and a good eye toward keeping them grouped by style more than by color. She nods in decently impressed approbation toward Cate's choice for Cap, meanwhile.
With Niemec off getting dressed, Eva has time to catch the introductions between Cate and the new doctor, and she offers, before diving into her own pile of dresses, "Thorne. Viper." She chucks a finger in the direction Niemec went, "Niemec. Raptor." And at Cap, "Duncan. Also Viper." Spoken like every pilot ever. Seeming to have taken Vedjovic's advice to heart she picks out one of the creme ones and heads off herself, to try it on.
Even for a native-born Scorpian, sometimes you've had enough jungle. Gustavo Delgado has civvies somewhere, but certainly not on Galactica, so he's wearing his khakis instead. This makes him stand out in the crowds rather well, although the fact that he's a near-giant helps with that too. Picking his way carefully through the crowd, the big man looks up at the name of the dress shop dubiously, then lets out a slow hiss of a breath and pushes open the door, stepping warily in and starting to look around as if searching for someone.
"I think we should all wear yoga pants and sweatshirts. I could even be okay with t-shirts layered under a long-sleeve t-shirt." Isolde does not seem excited, but she at least unwinds herself from her hide-a-chair and straightens up. She rubs at her thighs and knees, knowing that she can't be the sad teddy bear the whole trip out. She tucks away her book, starting to look around at the dresses with her hands slid into her pockets. Isolde is just a socially-awkward-teen-turned-prom-queen stereotype waiting to happen by the way she looks around, looking a bit out of place and certainly overwhelmed.
Cap looks over when her name comes up, realizing that there's introductions going around. Though, since hers has already been made for her... all she needs to do is smile. Well, smile and say: "Hi!" Looking up also causes her to note the new arrival (cuz he's huge! and a dood! but in uniform, so obviously probably someone someone else knows). Then it's time to go try on dresses. It sounds like the cream number has the most (only?) votes, but she brings them all along anyway, hanging the others up before dissapearing in a dressing stall to change.
"That's more my speed," Cate admits to Isolde, smiling faintly. "I'm gonna go get some coffee. I'll catch up with you guys later," she says. Isolde isn't the only one who feels a little out of place in the sea of dresses. On the way out, she practically bumps into Tavo coming in. Then she blinks. "Uh.. hi." A squint. "Don't think they really have much in your size here," she points out dryly.
Evidently not spotting whomever he's looking for -- but definitely spotting a few familiar faces -- Tavo starts to beat a hasty retreat, only to nearly run into Cate. He holds up his hands as if someone might call him on touching something. Clearing his throat, the Marine offers up a guileless, somewhat bashful smile at Cate, "You never know, Doc." He lacks the usual full rumble of a man his size, his voice just a simple bass, "I think it's more the style I'd object to." He points to a sleeveless, short number, "I definitely couldn't pull that off, for instance."
Vedjovic marks each of the named figures with a firm glance, as though pinning names and tasks to countenances in her mind. It's not unfriendly, just focused-- though the two might be mistaken for one another. "Hello," is fairly muted but nonetheless offered up in the wake of Cap's greeting before she heads off with the dress, as does Eva. She follows Cate with her eyes to note Tavo's arrival. Her quip makes the doctor smile and look back to the dresses. She's comfortable enough around them, even if she doesn't, on the whole, seem impressed with the offerings.
Don't leave me! Isolde's expression almost screams when Cate mentions ducking out for coffee. She breathes out a slow exhale when she's stopped by Tavo, and she offers the Scorpian a sheepish wave. "Hi, Tavo." Then she looks around again, edging to the left where some dresses are hanging. She casually picks through some of them, peeking over one that is a deep crimson -- a natural Tauron color, perhaps.
It takes a while. Changing into a gown when you're unfamiliar with them is not easy nor quick and Niemec had to get an employee's help at some point, but that's part of why they have a girl tending the dressing rooms anyway. But soon enough, the pilot's voice can be heard from that direction. "Eva." It's a hiss at first, but Antonie soon raises it enough to -- hopefully -- be heard. "Eva!" Someone needs an opinion on how she looks and she's too shy to venture out for the rest to see.
Cate offers a weak smirk to Tavo. "Oh I don't know, don't sell yourself short Sarge." Unlike most (all?) of the other women in the group, she's still wearing her uniform khakis. She waves a hand to the group. "You should stick around - I'm sure your guy opinion would come in handy. Or you could always carry the bags." Teasing! Mostly. "I'm going across the street to get coffee if you get chased off." A lift of the eyebrows to Isolde seems to imply a silent invitation, and then Cate is pushing on the door.
Eva, in answer to Niemec's call, peeks her head out from the stall just a few down from the Tauron pilot, "Right here. Oh! Let me see." Eva, who apparently, as no shame, wanders out of her dressing room with half of her dress unzipped. Thankfully nothing is hanging out. "I promise that I won't laugh if it's terrible." See? A real confidence booster.
Whether by good planning or happy accident, Cap's chosen civilian outfit makes for an easy change. Well, an easy first part! Off goes the sundress, tossed off with almost casual ease, to hang over the top of the changing room door. Getting into the tight-fitted gown does require a little more effort, and indeed the summoning of the helper once Niemec is done with her, since the other pilot is busy helping her friend. Still, give it a few and the young woman comes sashaying out, ready for the world, and evidently not as shy as her counterpart. Of course, she doesn't have the proper shoes, which affect both said stride and leave the dress pooling a bit more on the floor, but close enough. "So, what's the verdict?" Except nearly everyone has vanished in the rooms or seems to be retreating.
Tavo lifts a hand at Isolde's greeting, searching for her name in his memory for a long moment before he nods, "Isolde, right? With the good reflexes for a techie." He nods to Cate, noting that the two Marines are both still in their khakis and giving the front of his a little tug to go with a still-not-quite-comfortable grin. The flash of Eva-skin from her partially-unzipped dress causes him to glances down quickly, "I didn't think girls needed a guy's opinion on clothes. I thought we were just supposed to smile, nod, and say 'you look great.'" He turns his head toward Isolde, "That's how it goes, right?" Oh, someone is asking for an opinion. Tavo looks up and intones, "You look great." There's even a smile and a nod.
"Guilty as charged," Isolde muses, somewhat amused. She glances around at the multitude of dresses, and then back to Tavo. She holds up the red one -- a cap-sleeved sheath dress that relies almost entirely on its simplicity. The deep red is unlined in orange, hinting toward fiery hues. "Alright... judge it." Poor Tavo. She does glance over her shoulder toward Cap at the seek for opinion, and her brows arch. "Wow. I would never look that good in that."
"Exactly," Cate tells Tavo, smirking. She glances over her shoulder just long enough to call to Cap, "He's right - it looks great." And then she's off.
Vedjovic is still here. Cap in the pale gown makes her open her mouth, then close it again, lower lip drawn up between her teeth in consideration. It's clear something about the garment isn't sitting well with her, although the general opinion is that it seems tremendous. She won't contradict consensus reality. Not out loud, at least.
And finally, albeit hesitantly, Niemec does step out from the changing room. Black ballgown, indeed. Much like Cap, she has to shuffle a bit; both being unused to such a thing and not wearing proper shoes. But it does fit well and it almost complements the harsh lines of her Ha'la'tha tattoos. "So?" But she's smiling at Eva's own, even if it's not fully on. Anything she might say is lost in Cap's query, turning to look at the younger pilot. She grins, briefly. "I think you'll find yourself with a lot of young men falling over themselves to dance with you."
Cap hears enough of Tavo's conversation to be suspicious of his opinion. Plus, he's a boy, and what do they know? So she gives a little eyeroll at his compliment, and looks around for someone more authoritative. Vedjovic seems like she counts, a very knowledgable, fashion-aware sort of lady! So she definitely turns to her and... sort of tilts her head as the woman seems to chew air but not come out with anything. "No good?" Immediately, she looks crestfallen. "Please, if there's something wrong..." She'd definitely rather know now, and it's obvious she's terribly clueless. Though as Niemec makes it out too, she looks back at her and Eva and blushes a bit as she smiles. "You think so? You both look so pretty!" But to her, it's ALL pretty.
Gustavo gestures slowly over to Isolde, "What she said." That's better than his half-hearted pro forma compliment, right? Sort of? Studying the red dress Isolde holds up, Tavo frowns slightly, but it's a thoughtful frown, not a disapproving one. "I'm sure you'd look great in that?" There's a momentary shrug of his broad shoulders, and then he adds in, "It's simple, that's nice. The..." he fails to come up with the term for 'cap sleeve,' and so gestures toward them, "...look a little fiddly."
Isolde was distracted, and Cate has fled! She glares at Tavo like this is all his fault. Then she slips aside to Tavo, and she shakes her head. "Welcome to the jungle." She offers him a wry smile before she starts to fold the dress over her arm -- much to the aghast of any shop helpers looking on. "You're awkward affirmation has convinced me." She smirks. Then she looks back to Cap and the others.
"Antonie, you look exquisite. Absolutely perfect." No joking now, Eva is offering her truthful opinion. She can see how nervous the other woman is, and she's not about to poke the bear, "And you saw a pair of shoes that you like, didn't you?" She spins around, "Zip me up? I'll go get them for you."
Vedjovic feels somewhat bad for deflating the young woman's enthusiasm about the dress. She tries to wrangle her expression into something more conciliatory. "The slit," she explains her hesitance. "It's a little... much, I think. The fit would be much more modern without it, or even if it only," she steps forward, slowly, at first, and then, if Cap doesn't shy away, more quickly, dipping down to 'pin' the dress with her fingers just under knee-height, making the gown hug each curve all the more firmly, and giving the end a little bit more flare.
Compliments all around! Antonie is blushing and that gown shows enough shoulder that it's obvious. She busies herself with tending to Eva's zipper to manage it, shaking her head in Cap's general direction. "It's perfect." She steps back, then, and nearly trips... because different. Her usual attire does not have a skirt. Period. Certainly not one that falls to the floor. "Let me... change before I get the shoes." And she'll turn, silently requesting help undoing the zipper, one hand across her front so there's no accidents.
"The jungle I can handle," Tavo chuckles. "This...?" He points around the dress shop, "I wasn't even supposed to be here. Just looking for Corporal Miller." Vedjovic's 'tailoring' draws an impressed grunt from the grunt, and he nods, "Sometimes less is more?" The stumble from the other woman causes Tavo to look up quickly, but he's far too far away to do anything about it... and she caught herself anyway.
Isolde doesn't put much thought beyond the fact that she has a dress. She will probably remember she needs shoes at some point, but the awkward tech-turned-ECO is a bit socially exhausted, even if she mostly read while they were here. She strides to pay for the dress in full dedication. There will soon be a gasp of shock and dismay when she's told how much her simple little garment costs. But she'll pay it. With her eyes tightly closed and hoping her dad doesn't wonder why he's being billed for a dress shop on Scorpio ("Do you not value Tauron-made goods? Your mother could have sent you something!").
Cap listens, and soon nods along with a thoughtful expression as Vedjovic goes into her explanation. This lady definitely knows stuff! "Ah I see," she murmurs, showing no sign of skittishness over the other woman coming over to make some adjustments, peering down to watch. "Hmm. Yeah, maybe. I don't want overdo it... well, more than the general degree of overdoing it we're supposed to be doing, if you know what I mean?" She too looks over when there's a stumble, but no disaster, so all is well. "Should I try some of the others? One of them has a split, too, though I think it's not quite severe." That one just has the -neckline-.
Vedjovic is focused. Not intently, but with an ease of interest that doesn't allow for much in the way of distraction. She moves her fingers experimentally an inch lower down the slit, an inch higher, seeing where it falls best, then looks up to Cap. "I think this one is very popular. If the shop offers alterations, or if you can find a suitable tailor with an appointment open, I don't think you'll need to start from scrap. Of course, most gowns won't look terribly well on a body without the aid of a good tailor."
Tavo actually has something to add to the conversation, "I know a good tailor." Says the man who probably has to get his uniforms tailored because of his size. "About half a mile from here. I don't know if he does dresses, but I think he does."
Cap hadn't even considered such a thing, although she probably should have! Not like they didn't take out the needle and thread back home when something needed it. But maybe there's just a disconnect between these chic offerings and those 'normal' clothes. Is she even allowed to alter these masterworks?! Apparently. "Oh, right. Hmm, yeah, that'd be fine, if you think everything else is alright. We can ask them or-" Oh. Big dude is finally actually helpful, instead of pretend helpful. "Alright, sounds like a plan. Lemme go pay, or wait, I guess, lemme go CHANGE, and then pay, and then you can show me where this tailor is...? I'm Cap, by the way." And then she's off to execute this plan, which means a new round of wriggling out of dresses, impending sticker shock, and other fun things.
Vedjovic looks back over her shoulder to Tavo, then stands, lifting her chin in an appreciative gesture toward the fellow for his suggestion. She'll let Cap flee to go purchace her gown, and get ready to head out, herself. If she's apt to find a new gown, it won't be here. But she'll probably just wear something she brought with her. They're already tailored, and nobody here will have seen her in them yet, so they'll be alright to use if she can't find anything to suit her fancy.
"Tavo." Big dude is quiet for a big dude, even if he's still just a touch wide-eyed in the foreign environment. "Happy to show you." And happy to get out of here and over to some place that he might be slightly comfortable in. The appreciative nod from the obvious officer gets a short nod in return. At least he's sure of how to deal with her.
Stripping is easier than dressing, so long as you don't get stuck, and the sundress is much easier to put on, so Cap makes a relatively quick transformation and then comes traipsing back out, looking rather excited now that she's really doing this. In fact, taking the carefully held dress up front, she doesn't even flip out when she finds out how much it costs. She's very likely never owned anything personally that cost so much, and she stands there beaming with an odd sort of pride at actually being able to make that purchase herself. Adulting! And once it's all neatly boxed up and stashed in a bag with the boutique's logo, she's ready to go. "Alright big man, lead on!"