Arlen's eyes goggled a bit at the 'clothing' on display. Seriously, she usually wore less even to start when she was dancing, but they style was a bit...uh...Well, fuck. It all looked like it had been designed by a comic book artist having a wet dream about a lesbian bondage club.<br/><br/>Not that she objected...exactly. She just found it more than a bit odd that this sort of thing seemed to be accepted as streetwear. Either her subconscious was acting out some of her audiences' fantasies in the middle of her trip...or she really<strong>was</strong>somewhere very, very different, and in some ways, at least, better.  More and more, she was accepting this...Eshalonn place as real, at least in some ways.  For sure, she wouldn't have dreamt up the reek of the green dude's rags- and Aria sure as hell felt deliciously solid.<br/><br/>Fuck that for later. Right now, she needed clothes. A few of the strappy things looked...interesting, if not very practical, but since Aria was offering to pay...<br/><br/>One thing on the rack was a backless leather mindress with a boob window, not unlike one of the party dresses she had at home. Taking it down, she held it up, checking the length. Looked like the damn thing would stay<em> closed</em>at least. Not that she minded flashing some tit for the right company, but she preferred being in control of the timing, and it was a bit nipply to be doing it all the damn time, like she was right now.<br/><br/>"This'll work. At least until I can pay you back, and get my Queen's robes or whatever." She winked at the muscular fighter.