... I've always been confused by why what music you listen to would dictate what kind of clothes you wear or what color your hair is. If there's a philosophy in the music you like, you can live by that, but I don't see why you have to be part of a clique, a scene, a movement.
– Your name lady, I still need to hear it.
– Sir hunter, you persist.
– Or perhaps angels have no names, only beautiful faces.
– And you are?
– Well, I am, um.
– You've forgotten, or your name is Sir Um?
– Ulrich von Lichtenstein from Gelderland.
– Well, I'd forget as well, what a mouthful. Your armor, sir.
– What about it?
– How stylish of you to joust in an antique. You'll start a new fashion if you win. My grandfather will be able to wear his in public again, and a shield, how quaint. Some of these poor country knights, little better then peasants.
And I want you like all the gothic kids that look exactly the same never want to conform.
— Here, put these on.
— I wore these yesterday.
— They're still extremely stylish. Put them on.
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