Volume 1 - Chapter 23

New Look

After leaving O'Malley’s with a new switchblade in my pocket, I walked to a clothing store I'd seen previously.

It was a tailor shop called Park’s Dresser, where they had a wide variety of everyday wear both sharp and rugged.

As I approached the store, I could see through the window it was filled with racks of suits, shirts, and pants in various styles and colors.

A small display of hats, ties, and other accessories, at the front looked interesting, but a small sign advertised the accessories were sold at different shops. Friends of the owner, no doubt.

The store itself was small but well-organized, with primarily slacks and shirts. Hardwood flooring and solid walls lined each side of the place.

The racks of clothes were arranged in neat rows, and there was a large mirror in one corner for customers to try on their outfits.

Behind the counter, there was a tailor's mannequin dressed in a stylish three-piece suit, and I could see a sewing machine and other tools of the trade on a nearby table.

As I entered the store, a bell above the door jingled, and a man appeared from a back room. He was middle-aged, with a neatly trimmed beard and a friendly smile.

"Welcome to my place," he said. "Can I help you find something?"

I nodded and explained I was looking for a new outfit. I wanted something that was practical for handyman work, but also more stylish than what I currently wore.

He looked me up and down for a minute studying my frame. I could tell he was trying to visualize a new look for me.

“You don’t care for the poor rugged-man look?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. Not particularly.”

“Shame. Fits you quite nice actually, regardless of how much you might be worth.”

I didn’t know whether to be offended or not. The grey name above his head informed me he was Theodore Park.

“Well, Park,” I said. “Keep it rugged, but add a little more city to my fashion if you can.”

“Hmmm, yes. How much do you want to spend?”

I looked around, seeing no price tags. Having no idea what the appropriate price for tailored clothing was, I assumed a significant portion of my new wealth would go into my new outfit.

"I'll be honest with you, I'm not sure what the normal cost for something like this is."

Theodore Park eyed me again, looking around his little shop. I looked as he looked, and took in the many options available, from simple to stylish.

He made his way down the racks, considering, as he put together some kind of list in his head. After going through the slacks and the shirts, he turned back to me.

"I'm no cobbler or hatter, of course, but I can arrange a discount for you with some of my associates down the street. As for your bodywear, slacks and a new shirt, I can fit you for as low as six dollars."

I nodded, considering. The new weapon had cost me eight. Six dollars felt a bit low compared to that, so it was likely the cheapest option he had.

"What does that look like?" I asked.

Park removed a pair of thick slacks from the end of the shiny rack where he stood, then went over to a simple long-sleeve shirt. He held the two together.

"This pair is a classic look for blue collar workers who want to be slightly more fashionable. Some might even wear it to church on Sunday. I will of course make some minor adjustments for your frame, and it comes with a pair of simple suspenders should you need some."

Making my mind up, I decided I wanted something with a little more flair. After all, I had a decent chunk of change burning a hole in my pocket.

"What can twelve dollars get me?"

Park's eyes twinkled and he put the simple clothes back on the rack. I watched as he thumbed through several different options a little further into the aisle.

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He hadn't gone half-way in, so I figured the more expensive things were further into the store, and probably cost a great deal more. Finally, he plucked two pairs of slacks from the options and held them up for me.

In his left hand was the classic black with white pinstripes. They looked sharp, but almost too sharp. I didn't want to stand out, and I knew I would be doing manual labor in them.

I also didn't want to look like a mobster with an oversized ego, trying to make a name for himself. I would standout too much, and it wasn’t the look I wanted if my initial idea of trying to sit back while the gangs fought each other actually happened.

In his right hand was a pair of blue military-style jodhpurs. The pants were wider around the thighs and tighter near the calves, allowing them to slide into tall boots. I had seen a few NPCs wearing some very similar.

I took an immediate interest in the more unique style, and Park put the pinstripe pants back up, allowing me to feel the jodhpurs.

They were thick and dark blue colored, so I knew they would be warm, but I loved the way they looked. I could still work in those pants, and I figured plenty of items could fit in the wide side pockets, not that it mattered to the game mechanics.

"I should have known," Park apologized, "that a man such as yourself would find these to be the most appropriate for your needs. Let me find a matching shirt."

The man went about his store looking for a good shirt to match the blue jodhpurs. I wasn't surprised when he pulled a light blue long-sleeve from the rack and paired it with the darker pants.

As one might expect, the blue combo looked pretty darn effective.

"I would get that for twelve?" I asked.

"Nine dollars and twenty-five cents," Park clarified, "and fifty cents for minor fitting, if you have a few minutes to spare right now, sir."

I raised an eyebrow. He was charging less than I had offered, so there was no need for me to use Negotiator on him. It seemed like a fair deal.

"Done," I said, realizing I would still need suspenders, a hat, and new boots. "And those discounts from your friends?"

Park smiled. "Of course. Right this way. Let's get these modified so you can leave as a dapper gentleman."

After the fitting I was starting to feel like a changed man. The only thing out of place were my thick work boots.

I looked in the mirror, admiring my new look. A basic black pair of suspenders looped over my body, holding up my dark jodhpurs against the light blue, button-up long-sleeves.

The only drawback might be that I would get the shirt dirty when doing work. I wasn't sure if that mattered too much. If it did, I wouldn't have too much issue replacing it.

Theodore Park told me where to find his cobbler and hatter friends. They were just a few blocks down.

The sun was starting to set as I left, and he told me I might be able to make it before they closed for the evening.

Park's Dresser was a nice place. He was kind and affordable, at least in my initial impression. I left the little tailor with twenty four dollars and fifty five cents after giving a quarter as a tip, letting him know I would return in the future.

I made my way to the cobbler recommended by Theodore Park. The hatter was just next door to the shoemaker, but was already closed.

A sign above the shoe store's entrance said Grimsborough Cobbler and Cordwain 1866.

I pushed open the door and was actually surprised there was no bell this time. Every other business in the area seemed to have a jingling bell.

The store was small and dimly lit, with a musty smell that reminded me of leather and wood. The walls were lined with various shelves, each one filled with shoes of all shapes and sizes.

I saw work boots, dress shoes, and even a few pairs of women's heels.

In the center of the store, there was a large workbench with various tools and materials scattered about. A man was hunched over the bench, working on a pair of shoes with a small hammer and a piece of leather.

He looked up as I entered and gave me a nod.

"Can I be helping you?"

"Yeah, good evening, by the way," I said, shaking his hand.

The man looked confused by my greeting, as if most customers didn't shake hands.

"Good evening, I suppose, lad. Name's Edwin, by the way."

"Ethan," I answered. "Theodore Park sent me down this way. Said you was the best for my needs."

"Did he be saying that?" The man smirked. "Always saying that. I'm just a simple man be plying my trade. What are you in the market for?"

"I'm looking for a pair of jodhpurs to go with my new look," I said, gesturing to my outfit.

The man stood up and wiped his hands on his apron. He had a bald head and a thick mustache. "Jodhpurs, huh? You don't see many of those around here anymore. Mostly for horse riding and such. You don't much looking like a horse man, I say."

He walked over to a shelf piled with discount shoes no one had taken an interest in for some time. He started rummaging through the shoes, digging for something he'd put there a long while back.

After a few moments, he pulled out a pair of black leather jodhpurs. They were the same black as my new suspenders, which might complete the look.

"These should do the trick," he said, handing them to me.

I slipped my feet into the boots and they were far too large for me. My toes had way too much wriggle room, and if I walked around the city, I was sure to get blisters as my heel rubbed back and forth.

"Too big," I shook my head.

"That's what tends to be happening," the cobbler said. "Lucky for you, I know how to be resizing to make 'em fit."

"Perfect. How much?"

The man smiled. "Three dollars as is. They be sitting there for years. Five total if you want a better fit, another fifty cents to throw in some matching gaiters. Might take me a day to fix it all up for you."

That was a fair deal in my opinion, considering everything else I'd bought so far, and I immediately decided it would work.

"I'll take them," I said, handing over the money.

The man nodded, and I went about getting my feet measured up nice and proper.

"Thanks for your business," Edwin said. "Come back same time tomorrow. Should be all done for you."

I left the store feeling satisfied with my purchase. The jodhpurs were a perfect addition to my new look, and I was excited for when I could pick them up the next day.

As I walked back to my apartment, I felt a sense of pride. I had managed to find a new outfit and a pair of boots that fit my style, without breaking too much bank.

I still had nineteen dollars and five cents in my wallet.

It was draining quickly, but I had a good amount to show for what I'd spent.

Gone was the alcoholic handyman, worried and anxious about the fact his boss was a murdering mobster.

I was Ethan Jones, the would-be future guild master that, with any luck, would figure out a way to destroy the gangs and clean up Grimsborough Heights.

My plan was to go sit in my apartment for the rest of the evening and binge read everything I could from the folders I’d stolen.