Zenkichi let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing at the back of his neck. “She said she’s making a Pinterest mood board.” He said the word like it was some arcane magic spell, like just saying it aloud might summon a swarm of aesthetic inspirations to drag him into the depths of teen fashion hell. “Whatever that means. But she’s been at it for a while, so… she’s taking this seriously."
His visor flickered slightly as he checked in on Akane’s network processes, scanning for any updates. No immediate responses yet, but knowing her, she was probably already knee-deep in some absurdly detailed reference catalog. Teenagers, he thought, shaking his head with a brief chuckle.
His visor flickered briefly as he pulled up his own connection to the NETWORK, his sensors sweep over the girl's linked phone as he reads the signal instinctively.
He sent off a quick ping to Akane’s private server—she was better at analyzing all that social data crap anyway.
Sent request: Hey, can you check in on this address and just find any matches?
If nothing else, it was good to know who he was dealing with in a place as...colourful as this. Even if these tendencies reminded him of his time working in the public sector.
But first—he had a mission.
Zenkichi exhaled and turned back to the girl, giving her a once-over—not suspiciously, just in the way of a man trying to calculate statistics on how much she knew about whatever counted as “fashion” these days. Physically she looked about Akane’s age, which, in his mind, translated to: Probably knows more than I do about this crap.
He made a vague, sweeping gesture at the clothing racks. “So, if you’re somewhere in the same general age bracket as Akane, then I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say logically, you should have better instincts for what’s in fashion than I do. Because my instincts?” He pulled a random jacket off the rack—dark, practical, probably something he himself would wear. “My instincts are telling me to grab something like this, maybe throw in some jeans, and call it a day.”
He gave the jacket a critical once-over before tossing it back with a huff. “But apparently, that’s not good enough soo...I will strive to understand.”
no subject
His visor flickered slightly as he checked in on Akane’s network processes, scanning for any updates. No immediate responses yet, but knowing her, she was probably already knee-deep in some absurdly detailed reference catalog. Teenagers, he thought, shaking his head with a brief chuckle.
His visor flickered briefly as he pulled up his own connection to the NETWORK, his sensors sweep over the girl's linked phone as he reads the signal instinctively.
He sent off a quick ping to Akane’s private server—she was better at analyzing all that social data crap anyway.
If nothing else, it was good to know who he was dealing with in a place as...colourful as this.
Even if these tendencies reminded him of his time working in the public sector.But first—he had a mission.
Zenkichi exhaled and turned back to the girl, giving her a once-over—not suspiciously, just in the way of a man trying to calculate statistics on how much she knew about whatever counted as “fashion” these days. Physically she looked about Akane’s age, which, in his mind, translated to: Probably knows more than I do about this crap.
He made a vague, sweeping gesture at the clothing racks. “So, if you’re somewhere in the same general age bracket as Akane, then I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say logically, you should have better instincts for what’s in fashion than I do. Because my instincts?” He pulled a random jacket off the rack—dark, practical, probably something he himself would wear. “My instincts are telling me to grab something like this, maybe throw in some jeans, and call it a day.”
He gave the jacket a critical once-over before tossing it back with a huff. “But apparently, that’s not good enough soo...I will strive to understand.”