sally's interplanetary travel agency

Ann shrugged. Personally, she didn’t care what other people did. They could be running or out after curfew or off their Joy; as long as they didn’t drag her into anything she didn’t want to be dragged into, she let people do what they wanted and pretended to know nothing if asked. In regards to Sally’s thoughts, however, she did feel the need to protest. “Nonsense. If you don’t like it, then what’s the point?” she murmured. “See, this is why I don’t like you working with those other cads in this business. They could give fuck all about you but I like treating my models like people instead of mannequins. If I wanted mute mannequins without opinions, I would get mannequins and I wouldn’t let anyone stop me from doing so.”

Maybe it was because of Ann being an intense extrovert. “Besides, how do I know if what I’m designing is even good unless I get actual input? Now, if you won’t give me that, at least tell me truthfully if you hate any of them, and choose three that you like. Keep in mind, I still need to tailor them properly to your figure and add the final touches. Do you more like simplicity or extravagance? Also, if my rambling starts to annoy you, feel free to politely tell me to shut it.” 

Almost all the pieces were dresses, since it was what Ann almost exclusively designed. However, there were some skirts and blouse ensembles, some with eye catching color, some that were black or white or grey, or a combination of any three. Some outfits were simple, elegant, while others varied between glamorous, lavish, or gaudy. 

Sally gave Ann what might be considered a look rather full of pity. Perhaps she should envy the ones who simply did as they were told and swallowed a joy every hour on the hour. But she simply could not bring herself to desire, on any level, in any form, a life so devoid of truth and meaning. It took all the ... well. The joy out of being alive. They were just the living dead, shuffling through the damp streets and thinking this was real happiness.

It was sad. No, the ones who she envied, deep down, in a place she’d never admit, a place not to be talked about at parties or examined closely in the light of day, were her sisters. Gone before the whole place went to hell. She liked to think that something like heaven might exist somewhere out there, and they were there now, laughing and throwing down flower petals and thinking what a fool she was, that she was stuck in this wasteland without a family or a direction or a sense of purpose.

“I think all the fashions stopped being different a few years ago. Have you seen the trend board in the office lately? It’s all the same colors and-and tweed.” 

Given the state of euphoria she found herself in, Alice probably wouldn’t even have noticed the woman hadn’t the bottle just rolled up right at her feet. She had bent down to pick it up and was about to hand it back to its owner when she recognized the eyes behind the white mask. “SALLY BOYLE!?” She gasped, the excitement she felt making her drop the bottle she was holding back to the ground. “It must be my lucky day to bump right into you!” She exhales heavily, holding her hands close to her chest, in a vain attempt of appeasing her beating heart. “I just want to say that I really admire your work. Like, there is probably a chance I could get fired if anyone heard me saying this, but…” She leans closer to the brunette, her voice turning into a whisper. “I think you’re a better chemist than Verloc.”

The first thought in her mind is that her mum would be a better chemist than Verloc, dead or alive. But just as that cheery thought’s about to fall off her tongue, another realization clicks, eyes following the bottle as it begins to roll back down the rainbow painted path. “Sorry, do I -- ?” She clears her throat and gingerly steps around the other woman, reaching for the glass, hoping beyond hope that it’s not cracked. “Has it been very long, I mean?” Even without all the joy and Oblivion, her memory wasn’t what it used to be. Awkwardly shuffling around her bounty from the apothecary, glass clinking delicately together, Sally studies the other’s face until it finally snaps back into place for her. “Oh! Oh, Alice! Oh, of course, I used to see you around all the time, I’m so sorry.” She laughs lightly and tries to reach out a hand, but a move of one muscle and all the weight in her arms threatens to drop. “It has been a mo’, hasn’t it?”

“You always make me nervous, pretty lady,” he teased, his lips pulling up in a smile. It was a full smile beneath his mask. His joy was palpable by the way his eyes lit up. Sally was…wow. That she chose to sit next to him made him puff up just a bit. “A drink sounds nice.” He reached in his pocket, pulling out a tiny pill, popping it. The taste of blackberry flooded his senses, and he fell into a realm of bliss. “Ah, that’s better innit? What are you havin’, pretty lady?” 

“And here I thought the police force were supposed to be the ones making other people nervous. Silly me.” Wellington Wells constabulary had all taken a particular liking to her since the invention of blackberry flavored joy, but Tony in particular she considered a friend. And it wasn’t just all the visits to the Reform Club, either. Sometimes ... sometimes she could almost forget he was just as blind and dumb as the rest of them, all doped up like he was. “Ah, Brandy Alexander, if you please.” Directed as much to Tony as it was to the Wellie behind the bar.

“Well, hopefully I can get you in something you like. Perhaps something with a splash of color this time.” Ann suggested, standing to walk over to her wardrobe of nearly finished pieces. “No, I haven’t seen him. Frankly, not many people have passed through today. Probably why I’m not drunk yet.” 

“What colors do you even like? I don’t ever see you in anything colorful. Unless you don’t really like color, then I’ll think of something else.”

“Honestly, Annie?” Sally leaned in close to the other woman, putting on latex-clad hand on her shoulder, eyes darting around to make sure no one else was around who could hear, “It doesn’t sound very happy, but I just like getting paid.” She chuckled to herself and mentally counting how many Sunshine she had left in her pocket, if she could afford another just then and still have enough for the fitting and the trip back to the Village. “I’ll wear whatever you lovely people decide is right for introducing the fashions of nineteen sixty four.” She was only there to be a doll and not a voice, after all.

“Fuck!” The bottom of the paper bag carrying her supplies from the apothecary burst open, and about three bottles of chlorine and a rather large saltpeter went rolling down the street, stopping just short of a sewer drain and several pairs of shoes. “Shit. I’m -- so sorry, can you please just give that back to me, if you don’t mind? Please?” Wouldn’t be too out of character for any of these joy-filled nitwits to simply ignore her and pick up her supplies and keep them as though she didn’t exist. Which, in their defense, she was sure half of them didn’t even notice her at all.