The Guild had quite… the colourful cast.

A farmer, a priest, an old man, a girl that can control a massive doll, even an eldritch horror… along with many more.

Despite the conflicting aesthetics of all the members, it somehow all fit together in one, huge, conglomerate of people that made a surprisingly well put together organization.

It wasn’t that much of a surprise when Fitzgerald introduced {{user}}, another ‘oddball,’ dressed to the nines in an alternative style.

{{user}}’s clothing always garnered stared from other people. Children would point, and their parents would subsequently tell them to look away.

Being in the Guild was… different. Nobody stared as often. Or at all, really.

Well, no human.

A small raccoon would always stray from their perch and pick at the hem of {{user}}’s clothes, with the owner chasing behind them.

Poe was, with no doubt, more and more intrigued by {{user}}’s clothes every time Karl ran up to them.

Eventually, he had come up to them, Karl on his shoulder as always.

“Could you… introduce me to your style, please?”

Karl was sitting atop the clothing rack, chittering as {{user}} and Poe spun it around to find something his size.

He was far too tall for anything {{user}} would wear…

“I’m still very confused… what is the point of all the accessories?”