Timpani Ingalls (timpanii) wrote in summerview, @ 2019-01-24 20:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | complete, mckenna jones, timpani ingalls |
Browsing through the crowded racks, Timpani wondered if she would find something for New Years. The thrift store didn’t carry maternity clothing, not too many stores did she had discovered, but sometimes she found things that were cut generously in the middle or could be belted. Even if she didn’t find a shirt, but found some bling, it would work. Bling was always needed for New Years. The store was hot though, so she had long since undone her coat and shed it, leaving her in only a long sleeved plaid top since they were experiencing a warm front. Flipping through a couple shirts, she pulled out a thin black knit sweater with silver stars on it. Maybe....if it stretched? “What do you think? Maybe?” she asked, getting the attention of the pastel girl nearby. Kenna was by the rack of coats, absentmindedly flipping through the options. She didn’t need any of it. Well, no one needed clothes. Well. No. People up here did because it was stupid cold and it would be bad to go without. Still.The need was not as dire as, say, water. But clothes, unlike water, was cute. Which is why she picked water and not food. Food could be cute. Her fingers flipped past two more jackets when she heard her friend call over the rack to her. Kenna’s head popped up not unlike a meerkat. She rose to her toes to get a better view of what she was judged and pulled her lips to one side as she thought. It was unfortunate someone had gone all psycho on Timpani. Like, it was not her fault. People were stupid and overemotional. Not that she could really talk. She was also overemotional. And she never dated someone. Growing up in a community that was a bit more free love than most meant the concept of dating was strange. It was a bonding thing that happened later in life when you felt that true soul connection. At 21? Well. Ha, yeahno. “It’s supes cute,” Kenna told her. Her nose wrinkled and thought. “How is the material? If it’s too thin, you may want another layer or maybe a jacket.” Said Kenna, who was currently in three layers and a scarf. And still a bit chilly. “Yeah, I will probably wear a cami under it. It has good stretch, but in case it gets too thin, you know?” Most regular clothes couldn’t accommodate her bump, but sometimes she ran across something that she could make work or was good enough for just bumming around the house in. Plus, she kept holding out hope that one day she would wake up and it would be smaller or better, gone. Then all the maternity clothing she owned wouldn’t matter anyways. Being from Ohio meant that she was more used to the cold, as demonstrated now compared to her petite friend. It didn’t mean she liked it more though, just that she was used to it. She was not a fan of actually being cold. “Ugh, I gotta pee, I’ll be back,” she said, tossing the shirt at McKenna and waddling carefully through the racks to see if there was a bathroom she could use. Thankfully, even when they were staff-only, she often could get access. It helped that she had to go NOW. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have a baby in her, she still had all the side effect, including swollen ankles and peeing every five minutes. “Yeah… you’d think with all the cool tech we have, someone would have found a fiber that doesn’t go from fine to ghost with a bit of pull…” Kenna mused as she sucked in her lower lip. She hated that she really didn’t know what that was like? Especially as her friend was suffering from it not willingly or naturally. Well… Supernaturally. Was that natural? It was not very super for sure… “Maybe it will be fine. I mean there was that whole phase people wanted to make happen of slightly sheer everything, you know.” Because everyone wants to deal with having to layer when it was over 90 and the sun was baking down. Way to go fashion world. Kenna caught the shirt and pouted as she watched Timpani waddle off. She didn’t know really what to do with the fact that her friend was cursed. Well, it was not like it was death and destruction. Coming to undo the fabric of her life. But it was worse. The whole thing was just the small hints of annoying and inconvenient. Maybe that was what made the whole situation so bad. Kenna worried her lip and tugged at the material to test its stretch. She put her hands on the inside and pulled it as much as she thought her friend’s form would cause and held it to the light. Then pouted. She’d need a cami after all. The girl pulled out her phone and quickly typed @ the shirts before walking over to it from the sweater section. She really wanted to make it summer again. At least the flowy stuff would work better than clingy, staticy materials. Coming back out, Timpani checked her phone, then headed to the shirts, “See something?” she asked, taking her shirt back and holding it over her arm with her coat. Flipping through the rack, she didn’t think she would find something for herself, but there were lots of cute tops regardless. “What do you think of this?” she asked, holding up a sequined tank top that she thought McKenna might like. Kenna was contemplating a few sets of shirts with her nose wrinkled in thought when she heard her friend from the other side of the rack. She turned and held up the sweater Timpani was thinking about in one hand and a few shirts that went well with it in the other. There was also a boa she found along the way wrapped around her neck, but that was not important. “I think so, but it’s your call on it. These will look good, even if it gets too hot and you need to take the sweater off.” The girl gave a small shrug and wandered around the rack to see what the other woman was holding better. “It’s cute,” she agreed and tossed the shirts she picked out for Timpani over her shoulder to free up her hands.She held it to her shoulders then to her hair. “Is it too much? The hair is a bit of an accessory, and I have been thinking about getting purple clip ins…” Kenna’s nose wrinkled in thought. “I mean, it’s you. Over the top is kinda your thing,” not always and not in certain ways, but that was one thing Timpani had learned about her friend in the short time they’d known each other. You did not get rainbow pastel mermaid hair to blend in. Meanwhile, Timpani was a nice, natural blonde (with highlights to bring out the blonde even more). “There’s over the top, then there is tacky,” she countered with a playful finger waggle. Kenna spent most of her first contact with technology hounding fashion sites. She got Tumblr. Pintrest. Instagram. Anything to look cool. Cooler than the ‘I clearly grew up in a secluded community of strange people’ look she had going before. Much like Timpani, Kenna was a natural blonde. It made the hair color so much easier, but she also lived in shapeless, bland clothes until she was 15 and moved to Santa Cruz with her father and started high school. Even then, it took two years to really figure out how to dress and shop. She did a painful stint with ‘tacky’ during that time. “If I pair it with my darker pants and ditch the Doc’s for normal sneakers, it should work.” She shrugged and gave her friend a hug before loading the shirts she found for the blonde into her arms as possible options. Unlike McKenna, Timpani had always been trendy, never overly obsessed with fads and whatnot, but always had clothes that were reasonably in fashion. She had never really had a punk or goth phase or anything like that, never really cared to. Her tastes had changed of course over the years and her style, that was expected, but she had never deviated much from what passed for the norm. She was good with that. “One day, you’re going to want to be a basic bitch and I’m going to laugh when that happens,” she teased, “I’ll get you some khaki pants and a polo!” “You say that like I did not just graduate from that a few years ago,” Kenna told her with a smirk and an eye roll. She honestly did not find herself that extravagant. She was, yes, very colorful and looked straight from a cartoon some days, but she wasn’t wearing like… jeans with transparent sections or giant rectangles cut out. And there was nothing wrong with looking casual. She loved herself a sweatshirt and plain shirt day. That’s what she wore to school, after all. But she liked to look cute now that she knew there was more than whatever her mother brought home from… wherever she got the clothes from. “And don’t knock basic bitch. Infinity scarves and sweet flavored lattes are amazing.” Mermaid hair was extravagant regardless of anything else because the upkeep was intense, at least in Timpani’s opinion. “Infinity scarves and lattes are life,” she agreed, not even pretending to be stylish in her UGGs. They were warm and like walking on clouds. People who didn’t like them could shove off. “I don’t think I can actually imagine you with plain hair and khaki’s and a polo,” she stared, trying to make the mental image work. It did not. “They really are, so many styles and flavors. People can keep their boring and bland, I will stick with sweet and fun.” Kenna always rolled her eyes at people who mocked flavored coffee and silly things like that. Who was so miserable that they would hate on something as small as putting two pumps of a a syrup in their hot bean water? Get over it. The world was dying. People were hurting. But sure, hate on stupid things. Ugh, people! But she giggled lightly at her friend trying to picture her plain. Really, Kenna felt that this was her true self. Her normal self. Her hair changed here and there to other shades, but the brightness and color made her feel so in touch with who she was. In fact, the shades she loved so much matched the scents she came with. “I have pictures somewhere. It’s nothing exciting really, just weird high school Kenna growing into herself,” she replied with a shrug. She had… well… she had a very long time to find out who she was, so long as everything did not go terrible and all the world became a desert. That’d suck. “I mean, your style has to of changed in the last five years, too. Everyone’s has!” Kenna’s voice was teasing but honest. Everyone changed. Change was great and healthy. “Oh, oh course! We do not speak of high school Timpani with weird wavy hair and flowy dresses like I’m 12,” and terrible eyeliner. It was amazing the difference a straight iron and better make up could make. “I was like one of those baby horses, all legs and elbows that can barely stand on their own without stumbling,” she revealed, grateful that she had grown out of that phase. “Because I’ve always been tall, but somehow I hit a growth spurt when I was 13 or so and that was that. Even with cheerleading and gymnastics, I was awkward. Oooh, you know what? We should find a yoga class!” “I think I first wore makeup to my junior prom,” Kenna mused to a soft cotton-blended shirt. The girl scrunched the sleeves and put it back. Not soft enough. Still, better than the stiff stuff she wore growing up. “My eyes never looked so normal on my head. I was all bug-eyes. But, I know. It’s a shock, but I never really had a growth spurt. I’ve been the same size since I was like… Oh gosh. Maybe 13? Even my feet have stayed small and kid sized.” Kenna was glad both her parents were smaller. Some, like her brother, cursed the shortness, but Kenna loved it. She never had to worry about fitting somewhere. Sher sneakers were like, 30% cheaper. And it made purchasing oversized stuff to snuggle in so much easier. “I used to do yoga a lot. It was a big thing for some of the people in my communities. I sort of stopped when I moved away, but I did a lot of surfing. Gosh, I miss big waves.” But. Yes! Yes. Yoga would be totes great!” Kenna clapped her hands together excitedly and her head tossed from side to side. “I can look at school and see if anything has like a buddy system one. I know some of the teachers do like. Workshops and stuff there. Ooooh we need to go look at crafts stuff, too.” And with that, Kenna placed a floppy, peach and white sun hat her head and turned to face her friend dramatically. “Yoga is amazing,” she did it regularly when she was working, it being a good way to relax and wind down after work. She hadn’t done it in a while though thanks to the curse, “Is there a place in town?” she asked. The last thing she wanted was lots of questions about when she was due from well-meaning yogi-suburban housewives or whatever in Atlantic City. Being able to simply say ‘I’m cursed, there is no baby’ was incredibly freeing. At the question. Kenna scrunched her nose up and tapped it with her forefinger in thought. She had never looked into it before. Then again, she also lacked the main concern that people would have in meeting Timapni. The only hint of her being at all not a normal 21-year-old girl was the fact that her eyes were slightly more green than most people. But, with colored contacts being so popular these days, it was hardly something to note. She wished that there was a way to help Timpani out yet again. It was a constant thought, which just then made her super sad because she couldn’t. “I don’t know? I can check around. I mean, if not, I’m sure we can get something going. It can’t be, like, that hard to set up classes for that or to find the place? And I’m sure someone here has to be like… instructor level of yoga. I can check!” She flashed a smile and scratched her hair so it flopped around. “Anything else you looking for? We have all day, yeah?” “Nah, go try your stuff on,” Timpani instructed, heading to the changing rooms herself. She didn’t have much to try on, but it was still a good idea to do so. “And then we can go get lunch. I’m hungry.” |