Look Your Best. Be Your Best.

[Ocean Abbott]

Part of being comfortable was being knowledgeable. In Virginia Ocean had known where he was. Who he was. What there was. King of the Hill. It wasn't just a silly saying. It was a state of mind. Even if you weren't top of the pile.

It was accepting. Who you were. Who you were meant to be. And asserting yourself. At least that was the repetition his parents had drilled into him. Maybe it was true. Either way, the way to comfort was being familiar with your surroundings.

England was his surroundings now. Rather than wait for it to come to him, he was going to come to it. First things first. Fitting in. He lived in a largely populated area of Virginia. Most people grossed over six figures. In the muggle world and the wizarding world. He knew how to dress there. He didn't know how to dress here. If it was even different.

With Galleons in hand he had headed to Sterling Style. Robe Shop or not, it's name reflected confidence. He walked through the door, noting a small jingle as he entered. He headed to the racks to browse through the clothes. Noting the styles. And appreciating them.

[Markise Sterling]

Sterling Style was far more than robes. If Markise had it his way, it would be nothing but the latest fashions, cutting-edge style, forays into new avenues, and best of all, his own line. Unfortunately, he needed money to keep the shop running. His line was still a smattering of pieces in display cases and stacks of drawings on his work tables, and so many people just wanted regular clothes. He stocked the best he could find for reasonable prices, and a little of everything.

He was waiting somewhat impatiently for Ariel to arrive when the guy with the short blond hair walked in. He probably wasn't a surfer, not in the middle of Scotland, but that was the first impression Markise got. It made him think of California.

He set down his quill and abandoned the numbers he'd been writing and rewriting for the short time since he'd opened for the day. He hated inventory, but it always needed done and Ariel couldn't do everything.

He put on a friendly smile and ran his fingers through soft lavender curls as he rounded the counter. "Welcome to Sterling Style, can I help you find anything?" he asked. His eyes flickered briefly to the wide display windows, then back to the blond.

[Ocean Abbott]

Ocean turned at the voice. Shopkeeper? Soft lavender curls framed his face. Although it took a moment to verify it was a him. "Yes. You can help me." It wasn't strictly help with clothes. He tucked his hands in his back pockets. It allowed a slight tilt of his body. "I just transferred in from Virginia. I need to update my wardrobe. For England."

[Markise Sterling]

Markise's smile widened, then eased as his pale blue eyes brightened. "I'm from New York," he said, fingering a lock of hair. He needed to calm down. They were in his shop, and this was a customer. He glanced at the window again before telling himself firmly to stop it and gathering himself together again. He could entertain himself looking for signs later. Like when he was doing inventory again.

He dragged his hand away from his hair and dragged his thoughts back to business. "So what are you looking for?" he asked. He wouldn't assume anything. Updating a wardrobe for most guys meant replacing a pair of tattered jeans that should have been thrown out when the back pockets started tearing away from the seat.

[Ocean Abbott]

"I could use some direction." The words weren't meant strictly for clothes. "Most of what I have is what's in style at home." He wrinkled his nose. "If ruffles or sequins are in style here let me out now. I'll go home." He gestured at his clothes, "stylish but casual. I'm not trying that hard." He didn't need to most times. Usually he had only a couple hours in his 'fun' clothes a day.

[Markise Sterling]

Markise's smile broadened again, and he told himself that he wasn't dead, he could look as long as he didn't get caught doing so. "Unless you're into cocktail dresses, don't worry about ruffles and sequins." He caught himself a moment too late and sobered, mentally checking his trousers for the weight of his wand. He knew the difference between coming out and asking for his ass to get kicked.

[Ocean Abbott]

"Not personally. Though I have a few friends that wouldn't mind." He shuddered. "Love em. But I prefer not to announce my presence. Flamboyancy in clothes just doesn't speak to me. There are many more interesting times to be flamboyant." It still didn't occur to Ocean. Even after his talk with Jory that it might be that bad.

[Markise Sterling]

Markise's brows arched, his eyes brightened again, and his fingers rose to toy with a curl that danced alongside his ear. "So your friends are pretty open?" he asked vaguely. For all he knew the guy's friends were girls. Using the word flamboyant meant nothing. Still... "Friends of Dorothy?" he asked. It was only obvious if you already knew the connotations behind it.

[Ocean Abbott]

Ocean grinned, "sure. A few of them. Some of them aren't. Diversity is a key in life." He didn't know for a fact if this boy was. The lavender curls were a ringer though. "Apparently my friends were more understanding. My school never. I met a kid who was terrified." Maybe he just selected good friends. Had enough confidence. It was yet to be seen.

[Markise Sterling]

Markise had hoped that the phrase Friends of Dorothy would get more of a reaction, but since it didn't he told himself to calm down again. It had been so long, though! He needed to talk to different people once in a while. "A terrified kid at your other school?" he asked, trying to keep up. "Terrified of your friends?" Markise couldn't say anyone had ever been terrified of the group he hung out with at SWIM, but there had definitely been people who'd avoided them as a whole.

[Ocean Abbott]

Ocean shook his head, bringing his hands out of his pockets. "No. Here. His name is Jory. My old school was fine with me. And my friends. Even the straight ones." He was lucky he knew the term friends of Dorothy. He'd heard it before. Perhaps at a club. "I never noticed if people didn't like us. Not after first year." Then he'd wanted to impress. After a while he'd found others like him. They'd formed a group and lived as they were. As who they were.

[Markise Sterling]

"Wow, you're lucky," Markise said, twirling that strand of hair around his finger. He suddenly wished he had a piece of gum. Chances were he'd say something he shouldn't otherwise. "I had to transfer when I came out at my other school. It was bad." He glanced off into the shop. It wasn't like he was revealing anything by saying he was gay. He'd accepted a long time ago that dying his hair was enough of a statement outside the U.S.

"Anyway, I know Jory. Sort of. I only talked to him a couple times." He looked back at the blond. "He didn't look terrified to me." No, Jory had wanted to throw himself into serious clubbing, throw himself at strangers and try to hook up, and refused to believe Markise when he'd said it wasn't that easy, and that it was dangerous, especially for an innocent little country boy. Why the hell would anyone want to become jaded?

[Ocean Abbott]

Ocean shook his head. "I don't know about lucky." A broad grinned crossed his face. "When someone who didn't like us showed up we held hands in front of them." Some of his friends did worse. "A couple kids must have scuffed him up. I told him to offer to pierce their ears." Ocean shrugged. "Works on most people." He watched the path of the boy's fingers in his hair. "My name's Ocean."

[Markise Sterling]

"Markise," he said, hardly aware of the breathiness that had infused his voice. "Ocean's an awesome name," he went on. He let go of his hair and extended his arm for a handshake. It took him a moment to get his mind back on the conversation. "I had a couple friends who had it hard for a while, and it's tough, but it's so much better than my last school. Like, so much better."

[Ocean Abbott]

It was good to hear it wasn't all bad. Ocean extended his hand too. Perhaps holding Markise's for a moment to long. "I guess it doesn't matter to me. Like I told Jory. I'll still be dancing in empty classrooms. And I don't like locks." He tossed his hair looking at Markise with his emerald eyes. "I like it when people walk in on me."