#o'donnell

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People talk. So news was bound to reach the cleaners eccentric designer.

Of course, August had heard of the new designer on the ground. Who hadn't? More and more ground people were popping out with fits that only rivaled his designs. His cleaners were no longer the only ones stylin. He didn't know how to feel about it. Happy because someone could share the same passion? Or competitive? He didn't know yet.

He had first heard it from Rudo of all people. Who knew the kid had an eye for fashion. Well...he didn't. But the kid had noticed while walking in a town on a day out that some people had clothes that were cool, like August's designs. He wondered if August out sourced to neighboring town.

August didn't.

In the chaos, that was his designated room in cleaner hq. The designer was creating a new face that was requested. A knock at the door had reached the designers ears over the blasting music from the radio Enjin had brought back for him during a mission. Rudo had walked in after hearing August scream, "Come in." He was always overwhelmed by the sheer amount of fabric that covered basically every surface. Truly, he didn't know how this man could even breathe.

"Uh, hey man, I- uh didn't know you made clothes for others." Rudo said, trying to keep his balance as he maneuvered through the piles of neglected projects. His lack of people skills showed in the way he addressed August.

"Hah?!" August turned quick hearing this new information. "Maaaaaan, i don't give out my creations. They special made for my people," his voice carried across the room.

"Uh-..oh? Really?" Rudo's face contorted into a confused expression.

"Yeah, man, I only take care of my people. Have you seriously seen some people rockin' August exclusives?" This was the first time his full attention was on Rudo and not bouncing around. Frankly, it worried the kid. This was not the August he was accustomed to. It felt more like a professional interrogation.

"Maybe not your specific swag, but like it just looked similar." Rudo's voice quieter as he tried to avoid August's scrutinizing gaze. Rudo made up some lame excuse to escape the situation that had blown all too out of proportion, something about Zanka kicking his ass if he didn't get to the field to train or something. Once he closed the door, August sat back down in his chair with a huff.

His initial reaction was confusion, then came the yelling. Screaming about being stolen from. But no one could infiltrate the cleaners. So the next logical option was to interigate- no. It was to assume there was another designer on the ground. Or at least that's what Eishia tried to reason. August, being August, had to see it for himself. So, on the next visit to his grandma for supplies, he stalked the streets. He took note of the dope fits some groundlings passed by in.

"HAH?" he screamed in complete confusion. Gloved hands, holding his head in what looked like anguish to the passerby.

"Maaaaann, those clothes are siiickkk. Whoever this designer is, bout to put my ass out of business." He sulked as more people walked by. Giving him strange looks. I mean who wouldn't, a grown man is throwing a fit in the street.

After collecting himself, he asked around. Everyone he asked said they didn't know much. They'd send in requests or certain items that matched their style, and the designer did the rest and delivered it within a day or two.

"So they work fast with so little information? Damn." He thought.

He asked around more. Mostly looking for a name, but nothing was known about this mystery designer.

Until...

Nope, that's still a dead end. Fuck.

Oh, wait, this dude knows something. A gentlemen in a fitted blazer and slacks, but they were emroidered with a beautiful columbine pattern. Hand emroidered at that. Yeah... Whoever did this work was good. He had listened as intently as he could, trying to slow his mile a minute brain. With what little information he could focus on: the designer stayed on the outskirts of the town. It gave them room to work. August could figure that much if they were making this many clothes. So he made his way downtown.

He had made it as far as the town stretched. On the outskirts sat a warehouse. Obviously abandoned. He had found his way in and was stunned by the look of the place. It's like he had fallen into a universe of thread, fabric, and color. The warehouse seemed to be alive, music roared from a boombox that sat on a ledge. Jesus, he was home. No one seemed to be home, so he obviously had to take a look around. For research purposes. Duh. At least that's what he told himself.

In his exploration of the warehouse a sharp voice cut through the music.

"Excuse me."

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Let me know how yall felt about this, please, and give criticism if you have any. I've been out of the game for so long, but I want to write to make people happy 🙏

Lowkey don't know what to do first the next part so if you guys have ideas, please tell me, I'll pay you in O'Donnells

Happy Tuesday!!