Pet Project

Who: Chrissy & Skye
When: 6pm
Where: Clothing store

After cheer leading practice, Chrissy showered at school and changed into some not so retro clothes she'd brought with her. She was meeting the new girl for some shopping and then a trip back to her house, the latter being mostly so the other girl could give her another opinion on how amazing she knew she already looked as she tried on the outfits she knew she'd buy that evening. Upon arriving at the store, it didn't take her long to find the girl amidst the racks of clothes near the back of the store. "Hey, you showed up. Already on my good side." she said with a smile. She wasn't sure how long that statement would hold true, after all it didn't take much to cross over onto the bad side of Chrissy Chapman. "Find anything?"

"No, not really." Skye shrugged, but she hadn't been looking particularly hard either. It was more of a 'killing time' than 'shopping' situation up until Chrissy'd come. "I was thinking of getting a set of laces for my steel-toes, though." She paused and smiled slightly, like she knew how goofy that sounded. "Brown ones."

Chrissy couldn't hide her distaste as her eyes traveled down to the girls foot wear. "Honey, we've got some work to do." she said, more so talking to herself than to Skye. If the girl was going to be seen walking around with Chrissy Chapman, she wasn't going to be doing it in steel-toed boots. "Do you own any other shoes?" she questioned. "Cute sneakers? Hot boots?" Her eyes finally met the girls again as she raised a brow. "Did you by chance grow up on a farm?" she questioned. "Or maybe you have a bunch of brothers?" Something had to explain the girls obviously outdoorsy tendencies. You don't buy steel-toed boots to lounge about the house.

"Two older brothers, and yeah. I did grow up on a farm. Right on both counts." Skye gave her a somewhat impressed grin. "Dairy farm, to be more specific." It kind of explained her entire outfit, from the boots to the jeans, to the flannel overshirt - though that was kind of girly, in a mostly purple and indigo plaid. "Um, I have a pair of runners I was just going to use for gym. And a pair of leather winter boots with fur." She really was fond of those, but they were pretty hot to wear.

Great, this might be harder than she'd thought at first. "Do you always wear flannel?" she questioned, reaching out to pinch the material of the girls shirt between her thumb and forefinger. "You kinda give me that tom-boy vibe." The word 'tom-boy' came out in the same way someone might say vomit or something similar. Her nose scrunched slightly as she moved away from the girl and sifted through the racks. "How opposed are you to dressing like a girl?" she questioned.

Skye blinked, and tried not to be amused. Tried very hard. And failed a bit. "I thought I did dress like a girl - and I wear flannel when it's too hot to wear my winter gear and not warm enough to wear a t-shirt." Well, that was a good an explanation as any, wasn't it? "And my grey hoodie was in the wash."

Chrissy fought back the urge to roll her eyes. "I meant dress like a girl who didn't grow up on a farm." she clarified. "You look like you just walked out of 'Little House on the Prairie'." she informed her. "People jump at the chance to pick on people who dress like a farmer when they don't actually have to." She knew that for a fact. If she wasn't bored and looking for something to occupy her time that didn't have to do with Kaysen St. James, she would have been one of those people.

"Oh. So I shouldn't mention I have a stetson back at home, huh? And I should probably avoid wearing it?" Skye still found this kind of amusing, but it was encompassing the city in general now. They put up with shadows coming out of mirrors to kill people, and yet were picky about what people wore. That was brilliance, right there. "Okay, sure. I don't mind dressing in the costumes of your strange, alien culture."

"They aren't costumes." she said shaking her head, the curly blonde pony tail flicking back and forth with the movement. "When in Rome, do as the Romans do, right?" She pulled a tight fitted shirt off the rack and held it up to Skye's figure. "Welcome to Rome, Skye." She knew she could put the country girl into some not so country attire, but could she iron out the rough edges that she knew would be present?

Skye was still mostly angles, rather than curves, but that was life. She eyed the tight-fitted shirt curiously a moment and gave Chrissy a bright smile. "Thank you?" Skye, being oblivious to any rough edges she might have, took off the flannel shirt so that she could judge the shirt a little better. "This might be a little small on me..."

Chrissy sighed and shook her head. "It's supposed to be like that." she said. She tossed the shirt over her arm and sifted through the rack again, finding a pair of jeans that would fit her. A little embroidered pattern up the leg matched the shirt she'd initially chosen. "Come on, dressing room." she said, ushering the girl towards the rooms in the back.

Skye wasn't all that sure she was going to be comfortable in a shirt that tight - she tended to get hand-me-down shirts from her brothers, who usually got them from other people - and those always ended up being just a little loose on her. But she was game to try new things, so Skye followed Chrissy to the change rooms in the back. "You've never tried wearing a flannel jacket ever?"

Chrissy shook her head and pulled Skye towards one of the changing rooms. "No. I don't plan on it either. 'Farm girl' isn't exactly the image I'm trying to convey." she said. "Here, try these on and we'll see what you're actually working with. Everything you've got on is at least 3 sizes too big. You can't even tell you're a girl under there."

Skye was, obviously, not trying to convey so much an image as dressing in what was comfortable, but still. Went along with it. Might as well generally fit in with, well, people. Right? Right. "Okay." And she just... handed Chrissy the jacket, and took the other items, and entered.

It took a couple minutes, of course, but Skye did emerge shortly thereafter, wearing the jeans with the little bits of embroidery, and the much tighter shirt, that could've stood to be even a bit smaller, though another size down would've probably been just a little too tight. And the jeans were just a little too long on her. But other then that, Skye actually looked, gasp, like a girl. A girl in clothes that were ever-so-slightly too big on her to be perfect, but a girl nonetheless.

Chrissy smiled, the girl actually looked like... well, a girl. "See!" she said, turning her towards the mirror. "You've actually got a girl body under all that flannel and country bumpkin stuff you wear." she gushed. "A little work and you could totally be one of the hottest girls in school." Okay, maybe not one of the hottest, but a little lie never hurt anyone right? At least she'd look presentable in public. "The pants are kinda long, but that's not really a big deal. What do you think?" she asked, mostly to make the girl believe that her opinion mattered even the slightest bit.

Skye literally laughed. "Oh my God, you're such a liar. One of the hottest girls in school? Yeah, right." She shook her head in amusement. "As for the clothes - I guess they're okay? Tighter than I'm used too." She tugged the shirt for a moment around the collar, adjusting it so it hung a little better. "I don't know. What do you think?" Because Skye really wasn't sure - she wasn't used to this kind of stuff at all.

"I think they look good." she offered. "You'd be amazed at what the right clothes can do for a girl. A little make-up... some different shoes..." she said, scrunching her nose again as she eyed the offending footwear. "And we could do something to your hair, and then people will be lining up to talk to you. I can almost guarantee, you go to school dressed like a girl tomorrow, and your talking quotient will more than double." At least that was true. If she showed up dressed like a girl, at least she'd get a lot more boys talking to her. She was a decent looking girl and once the guys realized that, they'd be more open to conversation.

Skye promptly decided that this 'social' stuff was overly complicated. But whatever. She laughed again. "Yeah, right. They'd probably be lining up to talk to you and I'd get spillover or something." It didn't even occur to her that there might be people not willing to talk to Chrissy; she seemed like a really nice person! And she'd taken Skye shopping - her previous experience with it was still not her fondest memory. "If I got this, should I get a different belt to go with it too?"

"Well, even if they want to talk to me, you get popular by association. As long as you get conversation, who cares, right?" she said. She nodded in response to the girls question. "Yeah, I would think so. What kind of belts do you have now? Ones with huge belt buckles I'm guessing." She cringed inwardly at the thought.

Skye tried really really hard not to burst out laughing at the belt buckle question. She really, honestly did. And she couldn't even trust herself to talk for a moment, because she'd start laughing and not be able to talk. She just shook her head, choking down the laughter, and went to get her own belt - it was brown leather, shiny in spots from age and use, and rather frayed around the edges, though it was still perfectly servicable. And no giant buckle.

Well, the only good thing that could be said about the belt was that there was no enormous Texas-type belt buckle. But that was the only thing the poor worn article had going for it. It looked as though it'd been used, reused and then reused again. Chrissy shook her head. "That's not going to work." she said simply. "I have like a gazillion belts at home, I'll give you a couple of those. This one..." she said, taking the belt and holding it up. "Needs to be put out of it's misery. How long have you had it?"

Skye wiped away a tear that'd formed, lips still twitching into a grin, and tried to concentrate on the belt. "It was my brother's first - um." Skye rubbed the back of her neck thoughtfully. "He outgrew it when I was seven-ish? and put it away, and I started wearing it a couple years ago maybe, so... I don't know, it's been around maybe five, six years?"

Chrissy didn't find the situation funny, but obviously the girl did. "Six years is far too long to have a belt of any sort. Especially one that looks like this. It was probably way past it's prime when you first started wearing it." She shook her head, her curls jerking with the motion. "Okay, lets get that outfit and then we're going to my house. I can at least load you up on accessories."

"You don't need to give me things like that." Skye frowned a little at Chrissy. "They belong to you, and you hardly know me at all." But then the frown disappeared, back into the grin. She was in a very good mood with this shopping thing, though Skye wasn't altogether sure why. "And I don't exactly have a lot you'd like as repayment."

That wasn't exactly true. Skye served as entertainment. Something to keep her mind occupied, not to mention the fact that the girl felt like some malleable substance just itching to be molded into anything that Chrissy wanted. "Don't be silly. Just gives me a reason to do more shopping. Besides, not like a lot of them will get worn again by me anyway."

Back home, people used things until they just didn't work as their intended purpose anymore. And sometimes not even then. One of the reasons that a lot of farmers, of one kind or another, had so many half-way-to-falling over buildings on their lots, and dead vehicles. Because they might eventually find some sort of purpose. Though her own family tended to pull down the bad sheds and things earlier than their comrades, simply because cows were horribly expensive, and the last thing anyone wanted was to see a cow get injured by a falling building no one had bothered with. They still did the vehicle thing, though. "Well..." Skye hesitated. "I guess, if you really want too. But if you ever want them back you just have to ask me right away and I'll hand them over."

Chrissy shrugged. She knew she wouldn't be asking for them back, she'd just go out and buy something new. "Sure sure. Whatever." she said, moving to leave the dressing room area. "Let's pay for this stuff and head back to my place, okay?" she offered, shifting her bag on her shoulder.

"Okay." Skye agreed, and she headed back into the dressing room to quickly change so that she could pay for said items. And back into the flannel she went, though she did pause long enough to look in the mirror. And she huffed at the reflection, and smiled a little. Well, Chrissy was right, though Skye never really noticed it before. Everything was too big on her by a couple sizes. Like a little kid playing dress-up. Ah, whatever. She gathered her stuff and went over to the cashier.

Chrissy followed her to the register and leaned against the counter. The girl behind the counter smiled at her, recognizing her face from the many times she came into the store. The woman took the items and scanned them in, giving Skye her total.

Skye flinched a little, did some easy math in her head, and handed over her bank card. If girls did this shopping thing on a regular basis, she realized, she was going to need at least a part time job. Just as well. It wasn't like she had much else to do most of the time, and she was a bit bored without chores to do. Might as well make some money, right? She punched in her PIN code and nodded when the machine said it was accepted, and let the cashier put the stuff in a bag for her. "So how was cheerleading practice?" She looked at Chrissy with a little half-smile. She had no idea what cheerleaders did besides the general 'whoo-go-team-go!' kind of thing you got from movies and such.

She shrugged, leading the way out of the store and down the street towards her house. "It was the same as always. Well except Britney forgot her spanky pants under her skirt and when they lifted her everyone got a little more of a view than they wanted." she chuckled at that and shook her head. "We've got a lot of practice to get done before the game on Friday. Homecoming is like a big deal. You gonna go?"

Spanky... what? "Yeah, I want to see the game. I promise not to wear flannel to it, either." Skye grinned. "I'm assuming you're going if you're going to cheer, of course."

Chrissy nodded. "Yup. That's the plan. What about the dance on Saturday?" she queried. If the girl was planning to go, more shopping might be in order to find her a suitable dress.

"I dunno. Maybe. I've never been to a dance before; it might be fun." Skye offered thoughtfully. She, obviously, wasn't thinking about dresses or about a date, or anything along those lines. It was just a random curiousity.

"Oh, yeah. You were home schooled. I almost forgot. We'll have a lot more shopping to do then before Saturday." she said more than requested. "Jeans and a t-shirt won't really cut it at a school dance."

Skye wondered if her bank account could take the punishment. Probably. Though any budget she'd planned was rapidly dying the death of most plans. "What kind of dress code are we thinking of, here?"

She shrugged. "I'm sure we'll figure out something for you. They usually have the same old rules for dressing ya know, nothing too short, or too low cut." she said. "We'll find something for ya though." The wheels were already turning in her head, plotting out random dresses and how they'd look on the girl.

Looking slightly doubtful at that reassurance, but nodded gamely. Again, she was hit by how complicated social interaction with perfect strangers was. "Thank you for your help."

Chrissy nodded. "You're welcome." she said, flashing the girl a smile. "Now, lets get you to my house and see what else we can do."