Rogue and Pixie : Thrift Store Shopping

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Rogue and Pixie go shopping and discuss art history and drugs


"Wow, look at this dress. It is lush!" Pixie pulled a 60's style frock off a rack and showed it to her companion. "It has a tear at the back so maybe I can ask for a bigger discount. I'd need to rip up the back anyway, for my wings." She held it up to her body and imagined herself as Twiggy. If Twiggy
were a mutant. All around were other relics from other people's lives, including furniture and clothes and a fair share of WTF items, arranged by seller in the huge secondhand shop.

"I'm so impressed with you fashion people," Rogue replied, picking up a rather large clock shaped ‎like a mushroom. "Sure, I can dress myself in the morning, and look fabulous, but I can't repurpose clothes. It's gotta be already set for me to understand."

She peered at the rack next to Pixie and pulled out a peasant style crop top with ‎a paisley pattern. "Like how in the world could one save this hot mess?"

"Hmm, you can't do much about the paisley. But maybe with the right pair of jeans?" Pixie poked through a pile of bags and purses. "You could pull the patches off this bag and sew them onto some jeans or add some embroidery. Now you've stepped straight from Woodstock, gone through a twisted time warp, and landed in some version of modern times... kind of like these earrings did."

Rogue looked at the earrings in question, but all she could see was fried eggs. Maybe she was hungry.
"Did you always want to get into fashion? Or did it just happen‎?" Rogue tried to remember what she knew of Pixie before, but other than being a relatively happy child (who was all grown up now), that's all she knew.
To be honest, she didn't even know how she'd managed to go shopping with the girl, but somehow a random conversation had turned into an outing, and Rogue wasn't complaining.

"I always liked making things. I sewed clothes - I still do, although mostly I just take existing clothes to make them fit my style and my body. To me, it's art. Like all art, it's a little weird."
She found a red and white striped belt and held it up to the earrings - now it looked like eggs with bacon.

"I've been working at eVolution for a while now and I don't know if I want to like, make a career in fashion. The business side of it doesn't interest me at all and my boss, Adri, seems really busy all the time. I just want to make art. How about you, what kind of stuff do you like to do?"

"I like portraits," Rogue answered, tilting her head at the accessories. ‎"There's something about faces that I could stare at for hours. The curves, the lines....the eyes especially."
Speaking of which, she could see a few people giving them strange looks. Rogue admired how Pixie was handling it. "I haven't done much painting since I got back though, that’s why I decided to do the drop-in art class. Something to do, and it’s fun.

"Really? That's amazing. I'm not very good at realism. Will you teach a class or would people sit for you to paint?" asked Pixie, setting the belt down and spotting another one, inside a glass case, with a realistic scene of a cowboy and horses on the belt buckle. She bent closer to look at it and the other treasures that were deemed of higher value, but a long look from someone caused her to step back and pretend she hadn't noticed.

"The best part about portraits is getting a few poses, a few pictures and putting it all together. Makes so people don't have to sit too long." She reached out to the drawer in front of her, labeled gloves. "I could teach, I guess, if there was an interest for it. I like doing the drop in more. Less stress. " She started to look through the drawer, making faces. "Why are opera gloves so hard to find? I bet if this was the 50's, I'd find them everywhere."

"So a portrait is more like a collage of memories than an actual moment of time?" She'd never seen anyone paint a portrait before and the idea was intriguing. "And you're right, I've never seen opera gloves. Those leather riding gloves are kind of nice, though." What she was looking for, she wasn't really sure. Something different, something beautiful.

Rogue tilted her head to the side, trying to find the words to describe it. She pulled out the leather gloves Pixie had spied, and stoked the fingers. "It's hard to explain," she started, pulling off a glove to replace it with the new one. "It really depends on what you're going for. I like to capture
everything I can about a person when I draw."

She tried to move her hand, but the leather was too thick. It wouldn't work foe every day usage.". Taking it off, she continued. "If you study art history, you learn about lots of hidden clues and stuff in famous paintings and portraits. You can hide a lot of stuff in the shape of someone's hair."
"You can hide stuff in hair? Like what?" Pixie asked, thinking of a recent drawing she'd done of a lady with owls in her hair. This sounded a lot more mysterious than owls.

"Different things. It's more like a glimpse into their life, right? Like if you do their curls a certain way, it means they're rich, or if their hair is flat or vibrant." She shrugged, and put the riding gloves back, pulling out a pair of lace gloves. "Michaelangelo hid a lot of things in his paintings. In fact, the mural in the Sistine Chapel has been alluded to being one big old "Fuck You" to the Pope at the time." She put them on, and looked at the gloves with a critical eye. It was hard to tell if they'd cover her hands properly or not. Putting them back, she turned to Pixie.

"I can show you a little about it, if you're ever bored. I ain't no scholar, but I know a thing or two. Come to one of my session. Drop in."
"Wow, I never learned that in art history. I’ll definitely come," Pixie said, poking through a rack of jewelry. Most of it was costume jewelry, but she was always looking out for hidden gems.

Turning her head, she froze. On the mannequin was the most beautiful peacoat she'd ever seen....at least at this moment. Excusing herself, she tried it on, and instantly fell in love. The navy blue was a perfect colour , the shape was amazing. She twirled a little and stopped, noting a button was missing.

"Thank god my mama made sure I knew how to sew," she exclaimed. "What do you think?"

Pixie looked up from her search through the jewelry and saw Rogue twirl. "Aww, adorbs! It looks made for you! It just needs a button. If you're like me, that either is a quick job or it will sit in your sewing bin until next fall." She grinned.

"Or I can bribe someone to do it for me," Rogue replied, giving an odd cough which sounded suspiciously like Adrienne. She took off the coat and flung it over her arm. "Do you see anything?"

"Nothing, really. I kind of want to look in that glass case, but that lady keeps looking over here as if she suspects us of shoplifting. This is one of the biggest and nicest indoor second-hand markets I know of, but I never noticed how rude people were before."

It was true. The stares hadn't‎ abated since they walked in, even though Pixie had clearly not done a single negative thing.

"Good call. I'm just going to go and pay for this, and we can leave."

To say the cashier ‎gave her the cold shoulder was putting it lightly. Rogue was honestly surprised to see the woman charge her the right price.

After having left the store, she turned to Pixie. "That was ridiculous! How do you handle that? Girl, you are way stronger than me."


"Yeah, that was weird. I'm normally off in my own little world - and tend not to notice other people, I guess," Pixie answered without a glance back. She wasn't sure she'd be coming here again. "I don't flaunt my wings, but I can't hide my eyes and there's no mistaking I'm a mutant. Still, I don't usually get stares like that. I dress how I like, but I smile to make up for it." She patted her cheeks. "At least, I used to be able to get away with a lot by being happy and friendly. I'm turning 21 in March. Am I losing my youthful look already? Am I going to have to work harder to appear non-threatening?"

Rouge had to laugh at the mock terror on Pixie's face. "I think you'll be okay for a long time, darlin'" she reassured the younger girl. "I mean, look at me -- almost kickin' 30 and I get ID'd still. 'Course, I don't think anyone would call me non-threatening..."

She gave her head a little shake. "21 huh....," she said, getting back to the topic. "Any plans?"

"Ok, good. You don't look 30, Rogue! As for turning 21, hmm. It's not the same in my home country where alcohol laws are different. And I don't really get the deal with booze - my own dust is a lot stronger. But it seems like a good reason to get together with a bunch of friends. I'll have to think of something fun."

A light bulb finally went on in her head."Oh! Oh, oh, oh, it was your dust at Julian's party, makin' things all sparkly like! Yes! Okay, I get it now. Y'all definitely don't need booze. You could absolutely market your dust -- become the biggest thing in New York City. You'd be ballin' girl," she teased. "I could be your bodyguard. In exchange for dust, of course."

Pixie giggled. "Yeah, that was me. My dust doesn't stay potent for long after it's left my skin, but I guess no one needs to know that. We'd already have their money." It was such an absurd thought. The giggles started up again. "Oh, man. We are so weird."

The giggles were infectious. "Weird? Us? Naaaah.". She brushed it off with a laugh. "This is an important conversation. You always need a contingency plan, ya hear me? And if becoming a drug overlord is yours, that's ok. Just don't tell Scott," she added with a wink. "Pretty sure he'd have something to say to me."

An ice cream parlour caught her eye. "Now what say we have ourselves something ridiculously amazing, and continue talking our plans, Don Pixie?"

"Oooh. Yes," said Pixie, spotting the bright teal storefront at almost the same time as Rogue did. There were empty cartons of ice cream lined up in the window. "They have faces on them! This place looks very important. Let's go in."