9729/A Little Retail Therapy Never Hurt Anyone

A Little Retail Therapy Never Hurt Anyone
Date of Scene:	23 October 2019
Location:	The Mall
Synopsis:	The joys and wonders of shopping for useful jeans -- and a blender that blends coconuts whole!
Cast of Characters:	Fairchild, Sif, Captain Marvel (Danvers)

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Fairchild has posed:
"I really don't think we're gonna find anything that fits here," Caitlin remarks. She frets the inside of her cheek with a hollow sound and glances sidelong at her companion, reflected in the front glass of Forever 21. "They've got a really specific look in mind here. Like... size six and below, from what I've seen. Are you sure you don't wanna go find some new blue jeans at the western outfitter's store?" she offers.

Cait's donned a close-fitting pink hoodie and black athletic leggings worn under a flirty purple miniskirt; it's a cute outfit but more modest than either garment could offer alone. Flat-soled athletic trainers with teal highlights give her outfit a very casual look. "Except for dresses and stuff, it's kind of hard to find clothes that fit here. Let's go back to Mrs. Fields and see if that next batch of cookies is ready, I can't *believe* they ran out of chocolate chip on us," she complains.

Sif has posed:
Sif gently reaches out to cup at Caitlin's elbow, as if she knew the young woman was close to scarpering back to the cookie shop and leave her here musing over the latest modes of fashion for their age group. Or at least, visual age group.

"It is true that both of us may have...how do they say it these days...'junk in our trunk', but it is muscle rather than simple fat deposits. The more I consider their jeans on display, I am concerned of tearing through the seams." The Vanir Princess sighs before looking over at Caitlin. Sif herself is in a pair of dark jeans tucked into knee-high boots and something that might be considered a sweater-dress despite its shorter length. Belted about her waist, she's dressed functionally in the more matte and earthy tones. It still brings out the bright flinty-blue of her eyes.

"Let us walk to this Western outfitter's store. I believe I saw a pair of boots in there that spoke to me last we passed by it. We may get another cookie on the way, I suppose."

Now with her arm linked through Caitlin's elbow, the Valkyrie glides along the mall's upper story walkway. "Tell me of your latest hobbies, Lady Caitlin, and I shall tell you of my tales of Asgard in return," she offers, smiling over at Caitlin.

Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin quickly glances over her shoulder and looks down at her derriere, scowling at her backside. "A good leg routine does keep it from gettin' flabby," she agrees. They meander back towards the scent of baking cookies-- it's more or less on the way to the outfitter's, anyway. Caitlin's gone a whole 30 minutes since she last ate. Travesty!

"You really should try to play some Warcraft with me sometime," Caitlin urges Sif. "It's fun! A little brainless, but it's kind of nice fighting weird giant monsters with goofy cartoon aesthetics. Y'know, instead of doing it in real life," she clarifies. "And it's a blast at the end when the boss goes down, and all their treasure drops."

"Aside from that, I don't have much free time at the moment," she admits, wryly. "I'm not practicing my cello enough either. I wake up, I train, I work, I go home, sometimes fight bad guys on the weekends. I'm just not getting out enough."

A few more paces and she looks over at Sif. "So what's going on with Asgard lately? Any good news out of the homeland?"

Sif has posed:
Sif glances over through the glass of another store at the goods displayed inside. It's full of quaint and charming little toys as well as books and ecclectic displays -- there's a t-shirt emblazoned with 'OH FOR FOX SAKE' along with a characature of the animal itself.

"I will sit down with you one time to play this Warcraft game, yes, Lady Caitlin. I have seen the adverts for it. Perhaps I will see a fighting move displayed in the game I may utilize against my own foes. There are few things in the Worlds more appealing and gratifying than disarming a foe and then watching them realize their mistake," she shares, giving her friend a prideful little glance. Of course, most of Sif's enemies end up deeply regretting engaging with her on the field of battle.

"If you promise to play your cello, I will bring my harp from my rooms at the royal palace," the Valkyrie continues. "We might attempt a duet? I do miss playing alongside others. My latest opportunity was interrupted by a large raven." Despite this, she laughs, the sound warm and bright. "Asgard prospers. We recently completed a celebratory feast in honor of its return. The people were pleased with the efforts of both brothers Odinson and their efforts to keep our spirits lit while we waited to hear if the rumors of the world's return was true. I was very pleased with my dress." Reaching into her pocket, Sif pulls out her cellphone and brings up a photograph of the dress in question to show Caitlin.

Fairchild has posed:
"Oh, golly," Caitlin frets. "Okay. A duet. But not in front of anyone! I'm not ready to perform for people yet," she hastens to add. Her neck cranes to examine Sif's cell phone, and she tucks a stray tendril of red locks behind her ear to keep it from her face. A grin splits Caitlin's smooth features. "Oh, WOW! You look like a million bucks!" she lauds Sif. "Holy moly. I could never pull off a look like that," she says with an envious tone. "I bet all the boys were starin' at ya the whole time." Cheekbones flush at the very notion!

"Since Asgard's back, let's do a trip up there." Caitlin continues walking, the two of them moving at a comparatively sedate pace despite their sheer height letting them cover ground quite quickly. They come up on the Mrs. Fields and Caitlin starts stacking cookies on a napkin, and reaches into her back pocket for a few credit cards clipped to a plastic billfold. "D'you want anything?" she offers, before purchasing snacks for both of them.

Sif has posed:
"Thank you, Lady Caitlin." Sif is admittedly pleased as pie to find her fellow team member agrees with her own thoughts on matters. The phone is slid away and she continues walking alongside the red-head, her poise perfectly balanced between the swan-glide of court and the powerful stride of the warrior. "I was informed that many found the dress quite stirring."

Ahem.

When they return to the cookie ship, Sif picks out four chocolate and macadamia nut cookies, their dough also chocolate. "These, please," she tells Caitlin. Once they've been paid for, the Valkyrie exhales happily. "I could have an entire larder of these and never grow bored of them. But yes, absolutely, Lady Caitlin. I intend to bring you as well as others to see the World, if they are so inclined. I needed to consider the settling of our people first, but now that the Homebringer's Feast is concluded, I feel it is appropriate to extend invitations. I think you might like the waterfalls in particular -- the vistas as a whole, actually. Our poets write of them regularly despite living their long lives in perpetual sight of them."

Fairchild has posed:
"I'll *bake* you cookies anytime you like, Lady Sif," Caitlin informs her friend with a grin. Wrinkles lift on her nose. "Ooh! I'll bring some to Queen Frigga," she says, impulsively. Immediately Caitlin thinks better of it. "Or is that dumb? It's dumb," she frets, correcting herself immediately. "I know I need to bring something though, since I'm visiting the court. I think. Someoene mentioned that to me last time? But what do I get a Queen? Anyone else I'd say 'Amazon Gift Card' but I don't think Prime reaches the Golden City."

A hand twists a few locks of red hair into a stressy plait on her collarbone. Unconsciously Cait's pace picks up a bit as if trying to outrun a sudden flood of anxiety about how precisely one should present a gift to an immortal alien space queen.

"Holy smokes, what should I *wear*?!" she demands of Sif, eyes going with with panicked alarm.

Sif has posed:
"I would not worry as to gifts, Lady Caitlin. They will not be required during our visit. We may visit the palace as you like, but know that the royal family may not be within during the time. Their duties take them beyond our border and our world many a time," Sif explains to her young friend. A gesture of her fingers in a gentle curling wave encourages Caitlin to follow her after they leave the cookie shop. The outfitting store in question is far at the end of the mall and still a walk's worth of distance yet.

"Would you be reassured to know that we have had Midgardians visit in naught but sweatpants and tee shirts before to no form of mockery?" Her smile is gentle. "Wear what you wish -- though, would your mind be more at rest if I were to suggest an outfit? Or a mode of fashion?" She nibbles on her cookie as they walk.

Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin's nose wrinkles at Sif's reassurances. "I'd still feel better if I brought something," she says, reluctantly. "But I just don't wanna be rude. I'm /definitely/ not wearing sweats." Her voice takes on a note of firm resolution. "I can't even imagine. Asgard's amazing. I was nervous as heck when Diana invited me to meet Queen Hippolyta. I had no idea what to pack. Diana just gave me a toga to wear and that settled things."

She starts in on her second cookie.

"How often /do/ you get Midgardians on Asgard?" she inquires. "I didn't think a whole lotta people attended the court there. King Odin's been pretty firm about how much he dislikes tourists, right?"

Sif has posed:
Sif ponders as they continue on past shoes and hat stores within the mall, her two remaining Mrs Field's cookies in her hand yet. It's the glitter and shine of the Swarovski window display that catches her eye and brings her to slow before the glass wall. She hums a soft sigh to see the delicate crystal animals in their faceted gleamings.

"I shall think on what fashion might be most appropriate for your visit," she says with a glance over at Caitlin. "A long dress and boots could potentially be 'acceptable', if that is your concern. Do not wear sweatpants, yes -- I believe the poor man was not intending to arrive as he did in the gardens. Either it was Midgardian magic beyond control or one of our mages...sneezed in mid-incantation or something of the like. Chadwick. Er, no, Chad." Sif nods, her expression solemn. "He was most startled."

"But you asked after Midgardian visitors. No, not as often as one might expect," the Valkyrie continues, giving the red-head beside her a small smile. "The All-Father and his Queen do have their limits. We try not to gain their attention overmuch with our choice of visitations. You and any other I bring would be the first in some time to be escorted in my shadow. Given both the All-Father and Queen are not present at this time, the rule of Asgard has fallen to Lord Thor."

Captain Marvel (Danvers) has posed:
Carol was never much of a clotheshorse to begin with, but when she figured out how to manipulate matter to be just about anything, she wanted it to be she barely went to the store at all. Nevertheless, the invitation was there and after the chaos of the last year she felt she could have done with the rest.

She did her best to land surreptitiously outside, and made sure her clothing looked like something not easily recognizable. Big, reflective aviators that covered most of her face, a red leather jacket over a plain black tee, jeans, boots, and her hair tucked up under a Gotham Knights ball cap. Fortunately, it doesn't take her very long to spot Caitlin and Sif after wandering the mall for a few minutes in search of them.

"Hey," she calls out, waving a hand and quick-stepping to catch up with the pair, "I made it."

Fairchild has posed:
"Oh, in that case, I'm totally bringing cookies," Caitlin assures Sif. "I've never known Thor to turn down baked goods."

The sound of a familiar voice gets her attention and the towering redhead twists to follow it. It's not like she and Sif blend in with the crowd, after all. A brilliant smile splits her features. "Carol! You made it!" she exclaims. A quick, affectionate handclasp is offered the blonde as she closes the distance with the duo. "We're headed to the western outfitter's store to find something that fits," she explains.

Caitlin glances down at the contents of her other hand, and picks up a cookie to offer to Carol. "Want a cookie? It's Mrs. Fields."

Sif has posed:
"I think cookies would be a fine gift, Lady Caitlin. We are rarely treated with Midgardian fare there. Sometimes the most simple pastries are far more delightful than..." The Vanir Princess pauses, eyes downcast to one side in thought. "At the Homebringer's Feast, there were many delightful desserts, but I should make a point to speak with the kitchen staff of these."

Carol will see Sif lifting up one of the chocolate macadamia nut cookies with a broad smile of glee. The Valkyrie hears the greeting and turns, lifting her un-cookied hand in greeting. "Lady Carol! Yes, to acquire pants that can withstand acrobatic motions and not tear at their seams. Forever 21 did not have what we hunt." When able to do so, she'll offer the free hand with the goal of a forearm clasp, traditional Asgardian greeting from those within the caste of Einherjar and the guardians of the royal family.

"I was telling Lady Caitlin that these cookies would have been received well at the feast hosted recently at the palace in Asgard. Now that it has concluded, I am able to bring visitors. Would you like to join us?"

Captain Marvel (Danvers) has posed:
"Visit Asgard?" Carol asks, eyebrows raising, "You know, after Thor cut such a rug at my birthday party maybe I should come along just to return the favor. How do you think the good folk of Asgard would like the Macarena?"

The blonde Avenger extends her hands half-heartedly and does the little flipping motions characteristic of the dance. She does not know her audience.

Saved by the offer of cookies, Carol takes the offered one gratefully and crunches a big bite out of it. Holding up a hand as if to say 'one moment, I have a thought' while she chews and swallows, she finally speaks through a faint carpet of crumbs on her lips: "Sure, I'll help you look. Thought I think the pair of you together might give some poor sales assistant a heart attack."

Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin looks hesitantly back and forth between Carol and Sif. "The Maca... i-is that like some traditional Norwegian dance?" she inquires, quite hesitantly.

Off they go to Western Outfitters, though, and she pulls a face at Carol's quip. "Look there are like, zero stores that sell clothes that fit me," Caitlin protests. "I'm still gonna have to get them fitted afterwards. The only jeans I can find that fit are either six inches too short or they're baggy as a parachute. We can't all just... manifest clothing out of thin air," she says, giving Carol's attire an envious sidelong look.

Sif has posed:
Sif watches their blonde friend enact the dreaded Macarena and tilts her head to one side, watching it with a mild squint -- as if she'd seen it once before, but couldn't put her finger on the social significance of the dance.

"Any Midgardian dance is a novelty to the court," she allows after a moment. A glance over at Caitlin is amused. "Though as Lady Caitlin mentioned, we must have the clothing altered. We are here to shop, not to send unsuspecting shopkeepers into a state of cardiac distress."

Though let's be honest here, any one of the three ladies present is perfectly capable of engendering such a state in any store manager in their individual manner if they so chose.

"I have never learned a spell to manifest clothing out of thin air. I have seen our mages do it. Lord Loki does such a thing with great ease. I might ask him..." the Valkyrie muses as she gets to walking again, momentarily leading the small group with her stride.

Captain Marvel (Danvers) has posed:
"I'd share if I could," Carol says earnestly, the baseball cap on her head shifting from a muted grey to a more eye-catching blue - and now the logo is the Metropolis Meteors instead of the Knights. Fairweather fan indeed.

She eagerly buries any further consideration of the Macarena. She wasn't the sort to dance for crowds anyway, let along dredging up fads from the nineties. As the clothing conundrum is explained, she nods her head and pulls a look of genuine commiseration.

"I need a new blender," she posits, shrugging her shoulders, "After we get your new outfits sorted, you can come watch me fuss over RPMs?"

Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin offers Carol her second-to-last cookie while they walk in Sif's wake. The subtle change in Carol's clothing is missed, unfortunately. "I'd love to know how to do it, too. It took me *ages* to program a basic outfit into my bodysuit," she says, and meaningfully taps her left hipbone where her portable heroic attire is stored out of the way. "I did my work gear, some workout clothing, and one nice dress. And it still won't do shoes," she grimaces. "Heels are expensive when you need titanium inserts."

She digs in her back pocket for her phone and offers it to Carol. Search results for blenders. "Looks like the Hamilton Beach 1000 is the way to go. Best blender for the money. They say it'll process an entire coconut," she informs Carol.

Ah, youth.

Sif has posed:
"An entire coconut? The fruit of the tropical regions here on Midgard?" Even Sif knows enough about blender to want to lean in and peer at the phone's screen. "I have used those as weaponry in my past. I cannot imagine such a machine containing the power and blading to blend such a thing. My vote is for this model due to its claim alone." A firm nod accents her point.

"I think it wise that you included multiple types of fashion in your outfit's programming, Lady Caitlin." She gestures towards the red-head with a crescent of cookie. "Should we come to blows during this foray into the Western outfitters store, I expect that we will be well-prepared to subdue whatever we encounter."

Captain Marvel (Danvers) has posed:
"Oh, really?" Carol asks, peering at the phone skeptically, although her eyes do light up at the sight of it, "A whole coconut? That's wicked."

She is still looking at the phone when Sif speaks, and it takes a moment for what was said to fully sink in. Her brow furrows and she looks up as the Asgardian, mouth slightly open.

"I admit I haven't been to the mall in a wild," she offers tentatively, "But since when do we fight in clothes stores? I mean, not that I'm against this idea - I love a good scrap."

Fairchild has posed:
"Yeah, I don't-- I don't think we're gonna get in a fight over boot-cut jeans," Caitlin agrees, tentatively taking Carol's side. "I mean, stranger things have happened, of course. I got attacked by ghosts at a bus stop once. Which is why I added at least one nice office outfit to my suit, so I could run through the shower at work and not have to walk all the way to my office in workout shorts and a sports top." A grimace crosses her face. "I don't ever wanna trend on Instagram again because of a wardrobe malfunction."

They enter the outfitter's and head to the women's clothing section. Sure enough, they attract no small amount of goggling from the customers-- but with the authoritative stride Sif sets, no one comes up to ask if any of the women are looking for something in particular!

Sif has posed:
"I believe it would be of great issue should a simple errand for battle-worthy jeans come to blows. I would wonder at these ghosts of Lady Caitlin's past, Lady Carol."

Sif's glacially-blue eyes twinkle more brightly than her staid and courty smile. "I tease, of course. One should never allow the undead to cause unnecessary public appearances. Should you cross paths with these ghosts again, do let us know, Lady Caitlin." It is as if Sif were parting the shoppers themselves in the outfitters store in her travels. Hers in a confident stride; all that's lacking is her mystical sword at her hip.

"Though remind me again, either of you: the premise of the loosely-fitted jeans is extra fabric in order to aid in greater degrees of rotation of the leg, yes?" The question is asked even as she holds up a pair of jeans dubiously before herself. "I defer to your expertise in matters."

And doesn't she! In the end, jeans are found for those who cannot manifest their outfits and it's a grand time had by all...even if the cookie shop ended up closing early due to lack of product!