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Pixie Dust, Thursday

It was nearly prom! Which meant formalwear! Tink loved formalwear. People looked ever so pretty in formalwear, and most of them even bathed themselves.

There were racks and racks filled with dresses, and a good selection of tuxes and suits as well.

Let's not forget shoes.

Pixie Dust was open.

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Shop without the pesky pixie.

You masochist.

Z came in carrying a garment bag. "Okay," she said to the pixie, "I've already got the dress. Now I need shoes. And, you know, accessory...type things. Help?"

Tink gaped. And stared. And tried to put those words into English.

The girl had brought the dress to burn it? For burning purposes? To burn and drink some hard liquor and hope to erase its painful, painful presence from the inside of her skull? Bleach. Bleach was required. Right?

Z peered around the garment bag to make sure she'd brought the right dress and not, say, her dress uniform. Yep, that was the dress. "Is something wrong?"

Something ... wrong?

Oh, no! This girl had been kidnapped by that insane cult of people who kidnapped them and hid them in the basement and made them all insane homeless mental patients who had no fashion sense whatsoever! Like the crazy lady who hated shoes!

(This was, in fact, the start of the Kerrigan/Tink war, in a nutshell. The war that Tink was still unaware of.)

Okay. She should breathe into a paper bag or something and hand Tink that dress and Tink would take it into the back room, where she burned things, and they would find her a new dress. One that wasn't horrifyingly tacky.

"What? No!" Z protested, holding the dress away from Tink. "I like this dress! And--look, it's not like I have a date or anything, I have to get attention somehow. And um. I don't have enough money for a new dress anyway."

Tink tilted her head.

Had the girl considered Saran Wrap? Colored Saran Wrap and Christmas lights? That would get attention.

Tacky, yes, but ... well. So was the dress. And at least Saran Wrap seemed avant-garde.

"I'm not wearing Saran Wrap to my prom!" Z protested, clinging to the dress defensively.

Oh, very good. The girl had some shred of decency.

She was serious? She was wearing that dress? Tink couldn't talk her into something slinky and red and sequined and utterly fabulous? There were ways to get attention that weren't ... that ... thing.

"No! I already paid for this dress! And--and--" Z lifted her chin. "And nothing you say can make me not like it."

Oh, the hell with it. Fine. She could keep the ugly dress and Tink wouldn't burn it and Tink would think of this as an art project. How presentable could one make a tacky, hideous dress, if one accessorized correctly? Because accessories could hide a multitude of sins. It was like a challenge.

First - this was important - shoes. In the searing neon yellow accent color, would be Tink's recommendation. What sort of shoes? Wedges (http://www.footcandyshoes.com/istar.asp?a=6&id=TIZ110!CHO&csurl=%2Fistar%2Easp%3Fa%3D29%26dept%3DF%26manufacturer%3DCHO%26category%3DREG%26sortby%3D%26numperpage%3D12%26pos%3D12%26)? Strappy heels (http://www.zappos.com/n/p/dp/38248946/c/142531.html)? Chunky and casual (http://www.zappos.com/n/p/dp/38742718/c/764.html)? Sleek (http://www.zappos.com/n/p/dp/38741920/c/764.html)? Faaaaabulous (http://www.zappos.com/n/p/dp/35892923/c/131905.html)? Tink always went for faaaaaabulous, herself, but if this girl liked that dress, all bets were off.

"I like the fabulous ones," Z said, "but I can't afford them. I mean, really, really. Can't afford them. Maybe the strappy ones?"

Oh, please, money. Money was such a stupid thing to trifle with when they were dealing with fashion, wasn't it? These were Roberto Cavalli shoes and they were just sitting here because so few people wore bright yellow and if she couldn't get this girl into a decent prom dress the least she could do was make sure she didn't go out there in crappy shoes. The dress had a slit that required show-off shoes. Besides, this was Tink's art project now, and they now had a zebra dress with fabulous shoes and see, this was progress!

They would figure something out, with the shoes. Take them. Now. Accessories!

Yay shoes! "Okay, accessories! Oh, but um, these shoes? Can I buy them, too? Not for prom, I don't need two pairs of shoes for prom, but...just to have?" Something about them...called to her.

Of course! Shoe-shopping was always appropriate, and those were sort of fun. A little retro for her taste, but they made the yellow work, and that wasn't easy.

Oh, Tink loved shopping. Wasn't it ever so fun?

Shopping was really terrific. And, when done with Tink, kind of terrifying. "What kind of jewelry, do you think?"

In case you're hoping (http://tinkerbitch.livejournal.com/4280.html) for that easy A (http://community.livejournal.com/fandomhigh/1763877.html).

While one Z talked to the pixie about shoes, another snuck in and carefully crept toward the counter, where she was guessing the liquor was kept.

If she was wrong, well, she'd need another plan.

Tink might have been watching the counter more closely, but she was horror-struck by Z's prom attire, and her brain was on overload.

The counter had a cash register, some recent copies of Vogue, and a few bottles of hard liquor.

While the pixie was struck with horror, this Z slipped up and grabbed two bottles of liquor: one for her, one for Bridge. Then she glanced warily in the direction of the other her and the pixie to make sure she wasn't going to be made.

The pixie was totally in freak-out mode, and Z's theft had been entirely missed.

There was, in fact, a security camera, pointing right at the counter in a cheery manner.

The question was if Z was attentive enough to notice the red light was missing.

Actually, between the years of thievery and the police training, she was!

Now all that remained was to make her way out of the store without being caught...

Tink unfortunately picked that moment to look over. And blink in confusion, between the two girls for a few seconds until she got it.

Hey! Hey, was she here to tell her twin to get a less-ugly dress? They could work on her together!

Oh darn. The Z by the counter luckily had her hands holding the liquor bottles kind of behind her back. "I was going to help with the shoes, but you seem to have it under control," she said. "So I'm just going to...go back to the dorm! Yeah!"

"Okay, Y," Z said, staring at her replicate with huge eyes. Maybe she could trap the pixie in a shoe and run for it?

Well, if she wasn't going to save her twin from certain doom, Tink couldn't be bothered, either. She turned her full attention back to Z: Original Flavor, ignoring Z: New and Improved.

Whew. Z: New and Improved shot out the door and down the street, carrying her prize. Mission accomplished!

Now that other her needed to come home with shoes.

*grabs the absinthe and runs*

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Pixie Dust, Thursday

Mod Your Shopping

Shop With Tink

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Try for Tink's Booze Stash

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OOC