Small World After All

It was tricky for Clyde to not get just a little cocky and egotistical when Taylor got all interested in his bullet wound. He enjoyed trash talking and boasting for fun but never one to show off, especially in terms of his physical appearance, but the coolness factor he felt with how Taylor was enamored with his wound made Clyde feel straight up awesome and tough as nails. He felt like Andrew Fucking Jackson. He had another one near his shoulder joint he was almost tempted to show off to Taylor for more attention, but it didn't take long for Clyde to remember how he got that first wound in the first place. He could never showoff or gloat about the first wound. Wasn't right to do at all.

"Nah, it's cool." Clyde replied, finding Taylor's reaction to the round both amusing and kind of cute in a way, at least until he told her about the debt and she snapped back into her usual self and voiced how she felt on the matter while scolding Clyde, would could only grin nervously at Taylor and shrug to show his ignorance on the matter, like a little kid telling his mom he set fire to the sofa but swore the sofa catching fire wasn't intentional, just the fire in general. He never bothered to question Chesna. Heather seemed so adamant on paying the woman who supposedly saved his life and Clyde had plenty reason to be thankful back then so he rolled with it. Still, Taylor did make a lot of sense. Perhaps he'd try and find a Lawyer.

"Gatt Attack." Clyde reiterated before he was made to grin due to Taylor's laugh that would follow with her amusing remarks regarding the gang that made Clyde grin even wider due to her speech and her mannerisms before she released an instantly contagious laughter that made Clyde's eyes widen and his cheeks go tight before he covered his mouth in a reflexive way to halt himself from bursting into laughter but still cracking up as he heard Taylor laugh the way she did while ridiculing Gatt's Pack with logic that was funny because it was true.

Eventually Clyde calmed down and listened to what Taylor had to say regarding Chesna, making Clyde cross his arms and think for a moment on what to do. He didn't think it would be very manly to take on a female Doctor who probably didn't know much about fighting at all, even if she did cheat. Women like Gatt weren't hard to punch at all, but the same didn't go for Chesna. She was also Lia's girl and Clyde liked Lia. Chesna also may have saved his life.

Still, One-Hundred Grand. He could probably buy a house with that kind of money.

Clyde thought over his options. He had been saving money to make Payments to Chesna and had shaved some off that off to by a suit he would need to show Mercy he was the real deal and not a total slob. But he also remembered what she said about Taylor being a lot right and she did sound right. Perhaps Clyde he was being robbed and being taken advantage of after all and he just needed to trust Taylor.

"Hmmm... You know, I think you're right, Parker, it is all bullshit..." Clyde declared. "And I guess I could go see Mercy about that shit too, but I remember what you said about her needing someone who could get her to lighten up, dropping my business on her don't sound like it would help that much, but maybe I'll bother her with that later on when I see her." Said Clyde while he tugged on his denim jacket. Before his eyes lit up. "Wait! ....What does Mercy do, anyway?" Clyde asked with a curious tilt of his head before he gave it breif shook and went on to what else he had to state.

"If I Am to see, Mercy. I Gon' Be dressed to impress to show her Clyde T. Gastin is a Real Man and not no Slob. And since I got all this money that's no longer for Chesna... Maybe I could get her somethin' nice... Like A..." Clyde would say before he looked around, noticing a familiar winter decor around the mall that made him smile. "...A Christmas Present!" He added with a snap of his fingers before he looked to Taylor. "...You uh... Mind helping? I mean I kinda need a haircut and I ain't good at pickin' those and I sure as hell don't know if Girls crave certain styles of suits and shit... Y'all all got different tastes... Weird Tastes... Plus you prolly wanna get somethin' for your boy too, no?"

Taylor gave Clyde a skeptical look. "Dude." She said. "I don't know Mercy that well, but I'm preeettty sure that working on something like that would make her squeal like a six year old on Christmas morning." It was probably true. She loved that stuff. She shrugged. "She's a... paralegal? I think. Like an assistant lawyer, I guess. I don't know if she needs more school to be a lawyer or whatever. She's Aurelia's assistant, too. Aurelia Fortuna, the anti-Lukretia."

Taylor flinched when Clyde referred to himself in the third person, including the middle initial. She pictured him wearing a button down shirt with one of those Texan-ties with the two strings and the thing that held them together, sitting around talking about cattle and railroads and drinking lemonade with whiskey. She always imagined southern women as wearing sundresses and bringing the lemonade out to the men and then returning to the kitchen to cook a giant roast for their fifty kids. She wanted to beat the shit out of every one of them, and their husbands, and when their kids grew up, them too.

"Right on, you can't keep looking like an off-brand cigarette ad forever. Don't worry, Taylor E. Parker will help you!" She announced. She had nothing better to do at the moment. "And I know just the place, c'mon."

There was an upscale men's clothing store in the mall that Johnny had got a suit from at some point. Probably he got the tip from Mamouru. It was in the mall, so you couldn't get a twenty billion dollar suit or anything, but it was certainly better than whatever bargain bin junk Clyde was thinking of going after.

She began leading the way down the halls, walking at her frenetic pace as if it was perfectly normal to walk that fast. "Oh, and Christmas for Mercy? Man, the best thing you can get for a chick that wants you to go away is nothing at all. Not that I'm saying that, like, she wants that, but you should be sure that she'd like a present in the first place. And... I dunno. I know she likes music, but I don't know what kind. And like... lawyer-y shit. Business-like. Maybe if you got a look at her desk at her work you could figure out how you could like, pimp it out with some super fancy name plate thingy or something. I don't really know.

"First thing's first, though, if by chance she wants you around, you gotta look correct, know what I'm saying? And not for nothin', but we could maybe update your cologne situation a little. Like, get you cologne and spray it on your person. No fuckin' Stetson or Brut, either. Right?"

"Oh... Well then..." Clyde muttered a bit quiet while scratching the side of his cheek, he didn't know why his financial problems would be something she'd squeel for, and then came the reveal that she was a Paralegal. "Oh!" Clyde let out, pretending he knew what a Paralegal was until Taylor explained it. He was kind of surprised, he knew it was something up-class and business-like but never knew what, nor did he feel he had the right to pry. Still, Clyde got a better idea of who Mercy was now and what she did and found himself quite... Speechless. He never thought he'd get it with a Lawyer. Ironic how he wanted to avoid as many places and people regarding The Law as much as possible. But this really explained a lot in regards to the embarrassment she suffered from their one night stand and made Clyde feel like he was going to have to pick up his game a lot higher than usual. She was probably rich after all.

"Thanks." Muttered bluntly as Taylor declared she would help him. Making Clyde sigh in relief as he wasn't confident that he would know what he was doing and wanted to do everything as close to perfect as possible. He didn't know what her flinch was for though and raised an eyebrow at her for it but otherwise dismissed it as he and Taylor ventured forth.

Clyde's enthusiasm would take a massive plummet though at hearing what Taylor had to say at first, even when she corrected herself Clyde couldn't help but think maybe she DID want him to go away, As she did seem to want that at first when they met again the other day, but he swore she changed her mind on that... At Little at least. She didn't say Yes or No to them having a 2nd date. But she WAS giving him a chance to clean up.... At least he thought she did.... She got really weird towards the end too. He didn't know if she even wanted a present from him. He was confused and very nervous. Still, Clyde listened to what Taylor had to say and would nod in agreement towards her suggestions, especially the music thing. He knew she liked that mp3 player of her's, granted Clyde thought every mp3 was considered an Ipod and you can buy cards that allow you to download songs or something. Perhaps one of those, whatever they were called. He did agree though on the whole Lawyer-y shit though, maybe he'd look into that once he got a chance to see her. Still, Clyde thought he had a better bet on the music, she seemed to like Electronic music and Durran Durran, granted the latter was an assumption.

Still, even if Mercy didn't want him. He had to try. He wanted to try. Nothing to lose, anyway.

"'Course." Clyde replied to Taylor's statement regarding looking correct. He knew that, that's why he was here! But when Taylor got into cologne, Clyde frowned a little and honestly lost her when she got into Betson or Strut or whatever. Clyde had to be honest.

"Honey... I don't the first thing about cologne or any of them brand names... I use Right Guard." Clyde told her bluntly. He knew the difference between Cologne and Deodorant but had never really bothered to go out and buy the former.

"Yeah." Taylor said, turning to look straight at Clyde. "And Hanes." She gave him another skeptical look, and glanced down at his clothes. "Do all your shirts come in three packs?"

She continued down the halls until she reached the store. Tasteful displays of stylish and sophisticated clothes lined the front of the store, and upon entering the air was faintly perfumed with a relaxingly masculine scent. Several female attendants, all dressed in dark grey skirts and jackets with white shirts and heels, roamed the store assisting other customers. One of them approached Taylor and Clyde and greeted them with a polite bow and some halting English.

Taylor shoved Clyde in front of her. "Get this dude a suit!" She said. "Um, kudasai." She added, in a small attempt at being at least a little polite.

She stepped back to look at Clyde. "I think something brown, no tie. Or... maybe you're not cool enough to skip the tie."

"Hanes? You mean them drawls by Micheal Jordan? Oh you mean SHIRTS!" Clyde would ask before he caught Taylor's next question, eyes lightning up at the realization before they dimmed down. "Not all... Just... Most..." With the exception of a few band shirts like Iron Maiden and Slayer, all Clyde ever had was plain old White T-shirts and jeans.

After some cruising through the halls of the store with all this fantastical stuff in the way, Clyde would look around like a lost child trying to figure out what was what while occasionally scoping out the girls.

He got snapped out of it when Taylor pushed him forth and declared that they get this S.O.B. A God Dang Suit! (Sorta)

"I am So cool 'nuff for a tie!" Clyde argued. "And I already know what I want. I gon' keep it simple. Black Slacks, Black Jacket and Black Tie. White Shirt. Like them Doods off Men in Black." Clyde told Taylor in a matter of fact tone, before he began to wonder if His Tastes would even appeal to Mercy. He doubted it.

"...'Less you got a better Idea? I need to be better than my best. Money ain't no option." He said loud enough for Taylor and the woman assisting them to hear.

"Yeah, exactly, you're cool enough to wear a tie, but not cool enough to not wear a tie. Get it?" Taylor teased. "And bitch, please. Don't worry about it. Do you have anything saved? Do you really want to impress Mercy? Look at her, man, she probably doesn't dig guys in tight jeans and Metallica shirts. Not that I'm saying you have to pretend to be something you're not, but if you're going to play soccer, buy some cleats, right?"

She skipped off to start digging through racks while the saleswoman directed Clyde around and started taking his measurements. "Look, man, I'm no suit expert or anything, but I don't think black is the idea here. And don't freaking take your style cues from Men In Black. What's wrong with you?" She turned to give Clyde a look before she went back to work in the racks. "You don't want to look like a secret agent. You want to look like a dude with his shit together. Playing secret agent only works for some people..." Like Johnny. But then, everything looked good on Johnny. At least to Taylor it did.

"Nah, you gotta do brown. It'd work with your eyes and your country thing and stuff..." She went back over to Clyde and scrutinized him, resting her chin on her hand and her elbow in her other hand. "Maybe we could get you a trim and stuff, but leave some length to it. You don't want to look like a tool, right? Something, like... messy, but... on purpose messy, you know? Not like I'm-a-slob messy. And the stubble... yeah, man, keep some scruff, but like, maintain it. It's not I-forgot-to-shave, it's look how awesome and manly I am stubble. Right? Especially with your hair being blonde..."

Taylor conferred with the saleswoman again and tried to explain what they were looking for, and then sped off again to grab some socks and dig through some racks for a shirt.

"We haven't even talked about shoes yet, man!"

Clyde listened to what Taylor had to say in regards to his appearance and couldn't help but agree with what she had to say not only because She sounded right about it all but because he knew he couldn't half-ass his look, he had to go all out in trying to impress Mercy, but Clyde felt some relief in Taylor's advice regarding looking the part for Mercy but staying true to who he was. He did want to look like a dude who had his shit together. Clyde knew that he could prove to Mercy that there was a lot more to him than just a slobby hick. "Right. He responded to Taylor. Feeling alot better about the appearance change.

"Brown?" Clyde let after Taylor shot down his original suit idea and brought up a better one, letting the saleswoman take his measurements while Taylor talked about his hair, looking like a tool and keeping a stubble. But a neat, stylish stubble. All of this was so much to take in, Clyde only thought about just a plain old suit and didn't think about how it would fit him or what not. Let alone the stubble deal, he was just going to be clean shaven.

"Uh... Brown loafers? And I guess I don't wanna look like a Tool... Granted I don't even know what a tool is!" Clyde would admit, having to holler a bit as Taylor sped off.

"Cecelia!" Taylor said. Clearly there was no bigger tool in Japan than her. "The Northmans! Northmen. Or is it Norseman? Norse is like... Zeus and stuff, right? Or... no, that's the one with the Vikings, and... ohmigod I'm an idiot. Anyway, both of 'em, tools, Cecelia and her tiny little brother, too."

Taylor returned with socks in one hand and a shirt in the other. She held it up to Clyde and assessed the color. "Um, what's your shirt size?" She asked distractedly.

The saleswoman ran through several different suits while Taylor immediately dismissed each one until they finally came to something Taylor liked.

"Ooh." She said. "I like the cut. And the color. Try it on right now. It looks narrow enough that it won't make you look like you're wearing your dad's suit. It might even..." It might even look good? Was that possible? If he didn't look like a strung out drunken cowboy, and if he figured out his grooming situation, maybe he wouldn't be all bad.

He was still no Johnny Higurashi. She smiled absently.

"Shoes might have to wait. Maybe you can get another girl-acquaintance of yours to help with those." She called to him while she went to browse ties.

"You still ain't definin' tool." Clyde responded to Taylor as he tried to figure out the meaning of the word. "And it's Northman. Vikings believe in the lochness monster... I think." Muttered Clyde, unsure honestly. He didn't know Cec had a younger brother either, just an older one whom Clyde had threatened to whack with a bottle once and got a car for Heather in exchange. Good Times.

"38 Medium." Clyde responded to Taylor's question regarding his shirt size while he watched her and the saleslady go through different suits that Taylor seemed to disagree on. Clyde WANTED to say "Hey that one's okay." But the moment he tried Taylor just moved on to the next and then the other. She didn't wait.

"My Old Man's suits were prolly better suited for trash anyway..." Clyde thought at Taylor's remark. He knew she didn't really mean for him to take it too literally but the statement made Clyde think on it. He didn't know what his Dad looked liked or dressed like but Clyde knew it had to suck.

"'Might even' whut?" Clyde asked Taylor with a eyebrow raised at her unfinished sentence before he took the suit and removed his denim jacket, putting on the button up shirt would he would button, stuffing the end of the shirt into his jeans to tuck it in before getting on the suit, looking about having changed up now.

"I guess the top goes with the hat..." He commented before picking his brown leather hat and putting it on his head to check out his appearance for a moment before he heard Taylor continue on about shoes. He frowned. He and Bonnie had the same terrible fashion sense and the only real lady friends Clyde had were Shiori and Rei.

"I dunno if I should trust my appearance on Rei's fashion sense, considering the fact she likes to dress up like she's dang ol' Sailor Moon."

Taylor frowned at the reappearance of the stupid cowboy hat. Stupid cowboys and their hat.

"Who the frick is Rei?" She asked, and turned away from the ties to look Clyde over. "And what's Sailor- whaaat, c'mon, dude! Go put on the whole suit, a'right? Back there, don't even think about trying to drop your pants out here, me and these girls would knock you out before you could hit the zipper." Taylor said, gesturing emphatically toward the back of the store and wherever dressing rooms were.

She turned back to the ties and picked up a red one so dark it looked black, with diagonal thread-thin stripes of a brighter shade of red. She felt the silk between her thumb and fingers. That was the one. She glanced up at Clyde, and called after him "And your dress shirt size, it's got like, fifty numbers. Ask her, she knows." She pointed her thumb at the saleswoman and smiled at her.

She glanced down at her own clothes. She'd changed into the only other clothes she had with her after soccer with the kiddies, and of course they were gym clothes: bright blue short little gym shorts with sneakers and white socks up to her knees, and a snug, white racerback tanktop with a large black crow silhouette taking up the whole right side of the chest. Someone else might've felt out of place, shopping for upscale dress clothes while half-dressed for the gym, but Taylor didn't. She figured that looking good was looking good, and it didn't matter what everyone else was wearing. Her sleek, muscular thighs and her slender, toned shoulders and arms were conspicuously bare, she wasn't even wearing a coat despite the weather, and she wasn't even slightly self conscious. In fact, she was only emboldened by it. It worked that way in the ring, too.

"How's it goin'? Need some help?" She called to Clyde teasingly.