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trans_92010-06-16 01:15 am
isee-snorkacks.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92010-06-16 01:15 am
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She'd Probably Be Humming "Here Comes The Sun" If She'd Ever Heard of Paul McCartney [Open!]
When she had still been on Earth, Luna had only been allowed into Muggle shops on occasion. Consequently, nearly the second she set foot on Zokez II, Luna was off in a flash of quiet oohing and aahing over restaurants with food made without magic, clothing boutiques sporting dresses and cardigans. She had spent a good two hours in a camera store, asking the clerk peculiar questions about why the people and things portrayed in the photographs of Muggles remain stationary a good amount of the time, and generally disconcerting him and all of his customers.
After quite a bit of vague wandering on the second day, she located a dress that reminded her desperately of home, eyes widening fantastically at the sunflower-patterened cotton, and she had donned it moments after waking the next day.
Sundress wrapped around her slim frame, Luna finds herself in a nice little jewelry shop, full of the semi-well-made, rhinestone-sprinkled baubles and earrings she has always admired during her short sojourns into the non-magical part of London. Presently, her blue eyes are twinkling at a display of butterfly hair clips with wings that move, tweaking the sparkly bits of metal gently whenever they look like they're about to go still, a little basket with a few sets of earrings and a bracelet beside her on the counter. As far as anyone can tell, she has fallen in love with the things, and it really doesn't look like she'll be moving anytime soon.
After quite a bit of vague wandering on the second day, she located a dress that reminded her desperately of home, eyes widening fantastically at the sunflower-patterened cotton, and she had donned it moments after waking the next day.
Sundress wrapped around her slim frame, Luna finds herself in a nice little jewelry shop, full of the semi-well-made, rhinestone-sprinkled baubles and earrings she has always admired during her short sojourns into the non-magical part of London. Presently, her blue eyes are twinkling at a display of butterfly hair clips with wings that move, tweaking the sparkly bits of metal gently whenever they look like they're about to go still, a little basket with a few sets of earrings and a bracelet beside her on the counter. As far as anyone can tell, she has fallen in love with the things, and it really doesn't look like she'll be moving anytime soon.
