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Amora looked at the well-worn purse of hers and frowned.  It was one of several she owned, but this one was among her favorites.  The bottom was frayed and scuffed from wear and the leather shoulder strap was cracked in places.  All in all, the purse appeared tired.  Sad, even.  She needed to get a replacement.  So she slung Old Faithful over her shoulder and left home and headed down to Saks Fifth Avenue to go shopping.
    Once in the store, Amora ventured over to the purses, catching a glimpse of the face mask she was wearing, half Titania, yet wearing a tank top and jeans instead of her costume.  Going by the stares she was getting, people still knew who she was despite lacking part of her uniform.  She appreciated the federal protection she got as a member of the Hero Program, and enjoyed the flexibility provided her when it came to identity security.  
    She reached the purses after saying hello to a few admirers and stopped to take a look around.  A salesman came up to her and asked if she needed assistance so she showed him her bag and said she was looking for one like it.  He regretted to inform her that the particular purse she was holding had been discontinued, but he would be happy to show her some similar items.  So she followed him, thinking over where she could go to get the one she owned repaired, if possible.
    They reached the right aisle and she thanked him and began to study the other purses available, wondering if any of them would catch her eye and possibly take the place of her standard after all of these years.

[Maia Morales]

Don't lose who you are, in the blur of the stars

Maia evaluated her appearance in one of the many full length mirrors that lined the walls in various corners of her bedroom. The anxiety ridden teen had changed her outfit no less than three times that morning before finally settling upon a rose pink front knot tshirt and a pair of stone washed denim skinny jeans. As in most cases when she was preparing for a casual outing, the nineteen year old had placed an inordinate amount of effort into making her appearance look effortless. While the teenager was still less than thrilled with the final result of her labor, she did want to be considerate of Charles's (or at least she thought that was his name) time. He had never corrected her when she addressed him as such so the starlet had no reason to believe she was muspronouncing his name.

While Maia was certain that she'd already been painted as a 'diva' in several tabloids, the brunette never wanted to be THAT type of celebrity. Although, in her defense, her mother had changed her driver so many times now that it was earnestly difficult to keep track. As she descended the winding staircase, Maia drew her still slightly damp tresses into a high ponytail to air dry. Seizing her black tote bag from a nearby three piece sectional, Maia strolled across the room and exited the penthouse. As she scurried down the hallway towards the elevators, from a distance the teen could hear people calling out to her.

While she was fairly certain that she had no idea who they were, nevertheless, Maia smiled and waved at the group of women as she slipped in the elevator. Politely thanking the occupant whom had seen her approaching and held the door open for her, the teen let out a sigh of relief the elevator made its way down to the first floor. As she stepped out into the foyer, the young woman took a deep breath and braced herself as she made a beeline for the entrance.No sooner did she reach the door did the clamoring began. "Maia, over here!" "Maia, are you excited about your upcoming tour?" "Maia, any comment on the rumors of your break up with..."

Lifting a hand to shield her face from the flashing lights of the cameras, the teen cried out meekly "Charles?" Suddenly, a rather well built man dressed in all black callously shoved his way through the crowd. Lifting his arm to block her face from the view of the photographers, the chauffeur escorted her to a Lincoln town car and helped her inside. Already exasperated, Maia sank down in the leather seat as Charles eased away from the curb and back out onto the main street. Thankfully, the drive to Saks itself was far less eventful. Yet, as Charles parked the car a few blocks down from the department store and circled around the vehicle to open the door, the teen was a bit reluctant to step out.

Offering the nineteen year old a reassuring smile, the chauffeur suggested "I have some time before my next pick up. I could walk with you if you want." Nodding eagerly, Maia placed her hand inside his and allowed him to assist her in exiting the car. The two made polite conversation about his family as she learned that his name was actually Charleston, but he didn't mind Charles. Soon enough, the pair arrived in front of Saks and said their goodbyes. Shopping had always been somewhat therapeutic for the teen and as wandered deeper into the store eventually the ugliness of the morning started to ebb away.

Meandering aimlessly through the store, Maia somehow found herself in the handbag section. Did she need a new purse? Not really. Would that stop her from looking? Nope. As her bright orbs scanned the shelves in front of her, a frown crept across the brunettes pretty face. Turning towards a dark haired woman nearby, Maia inquired "Hey, by any chance have you come across or do you know if they sell Michael Kors here? All I have seen so far is Prada and Coach."

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Amora began to ease down the aisle of purses offered, occasionally picking up a standout to study it closer.  She knew what she didn't want, which was something that was meant to be flashy and cute and nothing else.  No, she desired functionality as well.  She liked the deeper purses, not something akin to a wallet with a handle on it.  She could handle the extra weight that she certainly added when she filled her purses to the brim with makeup, her wallet, tissues, even books and other items from time to time.
    She avoided looking at others as much as possible, but did look up from time to time and see some glances in her direction.  The people looking did keep their distance, however, simply smiling and nodding at her before going back to their own shopping.  Amora could only smile with her eyes behind the mask, but she did her best to show her appreciation for their respect for her privacy.  It was nice to just be a normal person for a little while.  She was grateful for people respecting that most of the time.
    A woman's voice caught her attention and she turned around to see who was speaking to her.  An honest question.  And no autograph request, either.  Not yet, at least.
    "They did last time I was here," Amora said.  "That's why I'm here, actually.  Mine is worn out and I need a new one.  I wouldn't be surprised if they discontinued the model I'm looking for, though.  I think they're further down this way, from what the customer service man said."
    She skipped her browsing and went down the aisle, studying the labels on the purses as she searched.  "I think this is where they'll all be," she said, holding up an example to the girl.  "It looks like they've gotten a lot of new things in."  She picked one up and looked at it.  "Maybe something else will catch my eye while I'm here."