Shopping for clothes was complicated when you were a gargoyle. Sometimes—and these times were very few and far between—you could pluck something right off of the rack and wriggle into it. Most of these were shirts with open backs or dresses. Other times, you might find a shirt that could be easily modified, but the craftsmanship on the shirt had to be good enough to withstand the pricking of a seam-ripper. If its knit was too lose, or if the fabric was too thin, it was a waste of time. For the most part, Gina came to shopping malls to shop for ideas. She liked to stay on the up-and-up with what was fashionable. Not just for herself, but for any potential clients. It was thus that she found herself at the mall now.

This method of shopping was much slower-pace than a standard shopping trip and, as such, Gina was shopping alone. Sure, she went-out with her friends all the time, but like—the point of shopping with friends wasn’t to shop, it was to have fun! This was more of a business venture. Not a friend outing.

That did not, however, mean that the gargoyle would shirk any opportunity to chill with a friend. Even now, as she was exiting a store with young, bohemian demographic, she spied what she believed to be a familiar head of brunette hair. Gina’s wings fluttered inquiringly as she strode closer, leaning to get a peripheral view of the young woman’s face. She had her own sketchbook open upon her lap, and was diligently at-work. Gina stood back, following their line of vision towards the unsuspecting subject.

Then, with a practiced stealth, she meandered around behind them.

“You got the nose all wrong,” she said in low tones, a smirk seeping into her voice. The nose was, of course, just fine—immaculate even—but Gina was looking for a reaction. As soon as the brunette would turn to face her, reception of the critique aside, the gargoyle would cock a cheeky grin and say, “Heya, stranger. Long time, no see.”

There Gina stood, in all of her dappled-grey glory. Her hair had been wrangled into a sloppy bun, and her sunglasses were presently tucked atop her head but behind her horns. She wore a pair of cut-off jean shorts, a billowing tie-dyed tank top, and the biggest sh**-eating grin as she peered down at none other than Vanessa, the girl who'd fallen off the face of the earth after their last (and only) sleepover.

In the grand scheme of introverts, Vanessa could be a lot worse. She put herself into social situations willingly (on occasion,) and her distaste for crowds did not stop her from enjoying a night of dancing. It was all about creating intimate situations amidst the group settings. Finding close friends at a party to gravitate toward or a reliable partner on the dance floor was a must to keep from overexerting herself and interacting with a bevy of new people. On any given night, Vanessa could add one or two people to her friend circle, at maximum. The last time she was at a bar, it was April. The last time she was dancing… it was Gina.

Most of Vanessa’s time after her breakup was spent sulking and thinking about Rebecca. It was a pathetic, depressing time that she was already lamenting. Letting her life get swept away in sadness was unproductive. Rebecca was a cool, cute girl, but she was a cheater. At least, she cheated on Vanessa, so that’s what she would be to the mind-reader going forward. It was tragic, but not worth all the pain or the tears. They were never meant to be; she could see that now, even if it still stung anyway.

The further her mind was allowed to drift from Rebecca, the more a new figure occasionally crossed her thoughts. Gina was sweet, and unlike certain redheaded vixens, she seemed sincere and honest. She saved Vanessa by just being there for her the night of the party. The next morning, she worried her thoughts of Gina were motivated by a frayed emotional state and a need for intimacy and affection the grey girl was willing to fulfill.

Over a month later, though, Gina was still flying through her mind. Sure, she was not obsessing over Gina, but she would occasionally wonder how the college girl was spending her days and nights. She considered calling Gina, because seeing her again sounded enjoyable, and she could use some more enjoyment in her life. Any time she considered making the call, (or even knocking on the Co-op door,) she remembered why she was keeping to herself.

Gina was Rebecca’s friend. Vanessa had her own friend circle, however small, and it could be inappropriate in the wake of a breakup to add a friend she met through Rebecca. When they were in bed, Gina did seem sympathetic to Vanessa’s situation, but they knew each other for all of one night. It seemed pointless to build a friendship from such a complicated experience. What was she going to do? Tell Rebecca, “We’re over. Also, I’m taking custody of Gina.” Messy.

Vanessa was just going to move on with her life. The thoughts of dappled stone-colored skin and sweet, amber-flecked eyes were growing fewer and farther between. Gina could become an occasional, happy memory she kept from a less-than-happy time in her life.

In an effort to break out of her shell, Vanessa was moving more of her personal activities out into the open. Drawing and sketching always ended up being different based on where she was and what could inspire her. Sitting cross-legged on a mall bench, people passed by around her, leaving her be as their chatter became the comfortable white noise in her ears as she drew in the pages of her sketchbook. She was wearing hip-hugging jeans, (not that they had much to hug,) and a cropped tee that exposed just enough of her midriff to inspire curiosity.

She had been looking at a mannequin in an open-backed dress standing across from her in a window display. Her original intention was probably to add angelic wings to her creation, but as her mind drifted off, the wings she apparently settled on were more bat-like… familiar.

Familiar like the wings that belonged to the evil woman who had snuck up behind Vanessa to give a surprise critique. Vanessa’s butt cleared the seat as she bounced up on the bench, her sketchbook snapping shut.

Vanessa turned to face Gina, and had to face the facts: she was not just a figment of her imagination crafted to cope with the bad Becca news. Gina was real, and she was cute as ever in her tie-dye tank top, living up to her hippy west coast persona. ”Gina! I’ve been meaning to call you,” she lied. ”It’s been too long and I missed your face.” That part was true, both as a turn of phrase, and a literal statement.

It was such a lovely face.

”What are you doing here?” She asked, ignoring how dumb the question was in a mall.

Gina could suppress the giggle as Vanessa jumped up. She stepped back a few paces, covering her mouth apologetically, slightly startled by the hastily closed sketchbook.

“Ah, sorry,” she breathed, “Sorry, sorry—I couldn’t help myself.”

She’d been so focused, after all. And the gargoyle was filled with the slightest bit of regret for interrupting. Laughing brown eyes flickered over Vanessa, her smile quieting to a toothless smirk as Vanessa found her words.

>> ”Gina! I’ve been meaning to call you. It’s been too long and I missed your face.”

Ah, there it was—the toothy smirk was back again. It's really good to see you. You look great.

“My face has also missed you dearly!” the gargoyle all-but sang, “Same with the rest of me, too!”

>> ”What are you doing here?”

Gina cast her friend a furtive glance, and held-up her own sketchbook and waggled it, “Pirating clothing designs.”

Which was Gina-code for “shopping”. The gargoyle tucked the book under her arm, and went-on to explain, “Options for things to try-on are pretty narrow when you have wings and such. So I tend to shop for ideas more than actual clothes?”

Dude, don't info-dump. Be cool. The gargoyle drank in Nessa’s appearance, finally locking eyes with her, wearing a searching look, “How have you been?”

How are things with you and Becca, her mind specified, colored with concern? It's not my business... i haven't heard anything from anyone else, though... Not that it was the gargoyle’s business. There was some idle hope in the back of her mind, that maybe the night at Gina’s house had been a singularity, that maybe Nessa and Becca had been able to work it out.

You look great. Gina’s thought bounced around Vanessa’s head like an echo chamber, because she loved the way it sounded. It was silly, because it was the kind of thing you told anyone you had not seen in a while. “You look great; I’m glad between our last meeting and now you didn’t contract the plague!” It was such a casual compliment.

Then again, if that was true, why did she only think it? This was the reason telepaths went insane.

When asked about her mall activities, Gina pulled out a sketchbook of her own, which prompted a sparkle in Vanessa’s eyes. God, how awesome was she? The intersection of drawing and clothing was a spot she could relate to, so it was great to be around someone who could relate. Nessa held in a laugh when Gina chastised herself for explaining her hobby, but she did choose to reply with some general, honest reassurance. ”That’s so awesome. You come here, get ideas, and make this stuff, but way more awesome. I can dig that,” she nodded, grinning.

Even when people were not meeting Vanessa’s eyes, she worked to know what she could from their gaze anyway. Gina’s gaze was definitely looking her over, which prompted a wave of goosebumps across her skin.

Then the question was asked, with helpful, but unnecessary subtextual thoughts. It would have been clear what Gina wanted to know based on her tone. Vanessa had to choose: did she play oblivious, or face things head on?

”You mean after the Becca thing,” she said knowingly, following it with a sigh. If Rebecca and Agnes really had kept their mouths shut, even to Gina, then it was on Vanessa to fill her in. It was the gamer girl who dumped the whole affair onto her new friend in the first place. ”Why don’t we walk and talk? I can accompany you on your quest for fashion espionage.” Her legs were overdue for a stretch anyway.

Taking strides alongside the shorter woman, Vanessa made sure to walk close enough to talk, but far enough to avoid stray touching. The sleepover was a one-time thing, and it was on Vanessa to behave herself now that there were rules. ”So…” How to begin? Well, with the most burning logical question. ”Rebecca and I are over. Have been over. Since… well, the day after the party.” She looked away from Gina; as curious as she was, it would be respectful to let her process that news privately.

Plus, it was hard to make full-on eye contact while walking. But the respect reason was definitely mixed in there, too.

Gina blushed as Nessa commended the gargoyle’s process for shopping, timidly rubbing the back of her neck.

“Thanks,” the gargoyle said simply, “I do what I have to.”

It was true. This way of “shopping” was more out of necessity than by choice, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t enjoy it. It became a secret mission, to steal top secret designs—rather than a laborious process that she had to endure every now and again.

The gargoyle didn’t have to pry too diligently—Nessa folded quickly, asking about “after the Becca thing” and offering a “walk and talk”. Uh-oh. It didn’t even take a walk-and-talk to see where this was going.

“Sure,” the gargoyle agreed, shoving her sketchbook into her satchel. She trotted after Nessa, before slowing to match her stride. It felt weird—stilted—to walk like this. Gina felt untethered, walking with a friend but not arm-in-arm. She fought the reflex to anchor herself, however. She was here to listen.

>> ”So… Rebecca and I are over. Have been over. Since… well, the day after the party.”

“Damn…” the gargoyle murmured, almost reflexively, “So that really was ‘The End’, huh?”

Gina painted a broad, imaginary arch with her outside hand to emphasize “the end”. A frown tugged at her lips.

“I had no idea,” the gargoyle breathed, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

And really, she was sorry. Break-ups were no fun. She’d been in a couple of serious relationships, and that was always her least favorite part. It was easy to commiserate, in that regard. Beyond that, there wasn’t much to process. She knew Becca before she knew Becca and Nessa as a couple, so there wasn’t some mental schema in need of readjusting.

Gina lifted her gaze towards Nessa, whose gaze was pointed elsewhere—which, you know, was reasonable. She lightly elbowed her short-haired companion, “But, like, how’ve you been in general? Not just like, post-Becca. But you. Personally. Honestly and truly?”

You didn’t interrupt someone’s drawing sesh in the mall just to get dirt on their failed relationships. If Nessa happened to glance the gargoyle’s direction, she would catch a reassuring smile and a gentle I want to hear about you too, you goob.

“The End” felt like it provided the right amount of consequence and gravity to Vanessa’s breakup, particularly when accompanied by the sweeping hand motion accompaniment. ”Yep. ‘The End,’ with all the bells and whistles and shouting and crying.” It felt so distant, but the last night at Rebecca’s was emotionally raw. There was not a lot of shouting, but Vanessa knew she broke that decibel barrier at least once. ”She admitted to what happened with her and Agnes, and that just had to be the be all, end all for me.”

There might have been women out in the world who had the emotional fortitude and confidence to give things another chance after a cheating incident, but Vanessa was not counted among them. Not everyone earned Vanessa’s trust. Her experiences growing up left her defensive, and having someone she confided in betray her left serious damage. Once Rebecca made her choice, it was clear that neither of them could stay; the redhead had a “true love” to return to, and Vanessa needed to defend her pride and her self-worth.

Gina showed empathy, but also made it a point to remind Vanessa that her interests in the native New Yorker were not limited to breakup damage assessment. Nessa’s eyes even glimpsed a peek at Gina mentally reprimanding her for being so one-track minded. Truthfully, she did assume the checkup was purely to assess Rebecca’s wreckage. ”I’ve been… better. Good, even. Catching up on some games, and just getting back out into the social world. Kicking and screaming sometimes, but I’m working on it,” she admitted with a smile.

”I guess I realize I need to stop blocking out my friends when I get mopey.” Letting people in would always be Nessa’s first step to recovery, but Gina was different. She knew why she had not called Gina. It was the same reason why she felt apprehensive walking with the woman through the mall. It would be appropriate to cut their conversation short and part ways.

Instead, they stopped in front of a storefront. Vanessa could see selections of “hip” clothing, and appropriate mellow tones accompanying the scene within. ”Whatcha think?” she asked her fellow fashion hunter.

Nessa confirmed that, after Gina’s birthday, it really had ended between the two of them—and it sounded messy. The gargoyle had uttered her condolences and now just chewed on the brunette’s summary. Becca had confessed to what had happened between her and Agnes, and that was the nail in the coffin, for Nessa.

“Good for you,” the gargoyle sighed, nodding her head. In her mind, she lauded Nessa for having the guts to end it. Though Gina had never been in that situation, she was enough of a bleeding heart to try and make things work, even if it flew in the face of what was reasonable. It took strength to end it. Deeper down, Gina was also troubled—Becca and Nessa had been together, just as Agnes was engaged to River. For a moment, the smile flickered off of her face, and she rolled her lips together. It was a pensive look. She loved Agnes deeply, thought highly of her, couldn’t fathom her sister ruining an engagement for her high school girlfriend. Agnes was better than that. Except, if she wasn’t… like, really wasn’t…

River didn’t deserve that. Did that make Gina the avenging angel of cheated-on girlfriends? The gargoyle sighed. She’d work on that puzzle later. Gina jogged to keep pace with Nessa.

>> ”I’ve been… better. Good, even. Catching up on some games, and just getting back out into the social world. Kicking and screaming sometimes, but I’m working on it.”

This brought the smile back to the gargoyle’s face. She couldn’t stand the feeling of being adrift in the walkway anymore, the gargoyle anchored herself to Nessa’s arm. She liked the feeling of walking arm-in-arm with friends, for one thing, and it helped her keep-pace (given her short legs). Furthermore…
Reassuring Nessa like this just felt right!

“Better is good,” the gargoyle said reassuringly, “And keeping busy probably helps.”

Gina was definitely one of the types to work her way through issues by keeping herself busy. This was only after, however, a day of moping and drowning her sorrows in ice cream.

>> ”I guess I realize I need to stop blocking out my friends when I get mopey.”

“People take energy,” the gargoyle said understandingly, “It’s okay to mope a little bit. My last break-up, the only people I was sharing my woes with were my two good friends, Ben & Jerry. At least at first, anyways.”

Ice cream fixes all problems. The two slowed in front of a store front—oh, yeah, shopping. The gargoyle appraised the store. It would be worth peeking in there, perhaps, but most of their clothes were cheaply-made. A definite design-stealing or wear-as-is store. Not a buy-and-modify.

>> ”Whatcha think?”

“Worth a shot,” the gargoyle grinned, releasing her friend’s arm to trot through the entrance, “Is this your style? What size do you wear?”

Of course the gargoyle would shop for herself, too, but the likelihood of finding something for her companion was much higher. Gina turned to face her friend, her wings a-flutter with the thrill of the hunt. Shopping with friends means shopping for friends. Dun-dun-DUN!

Gina was so understanding, it was hard to understand how Rebecca would choose not to go to her for comfort after the breakup. Then again, what reason did Rebecca have to feel bad, when she could reunite with her—

She needed to stop. Vanessa was past Rebecca and what she did, and getting mad at her now was a waste of energy and emotion. She could be a little jealous that Rebecca was hogging a friend like Gina, but the redhead never forbade the two from hanging out. The hiatus from their promising friendship was entirely self-imposed, and probably still for the best.

That was what logic told her. Logic crumbled when an arm looped around her own, sending a ripple through her like static. Keeping distance failed because Gina was not going to let it succeed. How did she not realize that they were not supposed to be friends? They met the night Vanessa’s relationship with Gina’s friend fell apart! That was the sign that they just met at the wrong time.

Still, Vanessa noticed she was not pulling away. Gina had such a positive energy. She had a talent for saying, and even thinking, the right thing to get a smile out of her. What would Rebecca think of it? Knowing Gina was becoming the kind of friend her ex-girlfriend could confide in?

And why did she care? Maybe it was finally time to start asking that question.

The pair of women walked into the store, and Gina was immediately asking questions about Vanessa’s style. A side-glance at Gina’s eyes made it clear she was looking to find something for her companion. Rolling her eyes, she answered, ”I like to experiment with different styles. At work, I am usually just wearing graphic tees, so I guess playing with clothes and styles is just fun for me. And I’m a medium in womens.”

Immediately, Vanessa winced, surprised at herself for slipping into a bad habit. Early in her transition, she would add that clarifier because her comfort was slightly less important than finding clothes that fit correctly. Now, it just sounded awkward and unnecessary. ”I wouldn’t mind seeing what you think would work on me,” she said, hoping to skim by her minor faux pas. It would be insignificant to anyone who did not know, so the best choice was to make no big deal of it.

Also, she really did want to know what Gina did when offered Vanessa’s body at her mercy.

…For clothing. Clothing.

Vanessa liked to experiment but wore a lot of graphic tees for work, and wore a medium in women’s. The gargoyle thought very little of her friend’s response, just nodded and progressed into the store. Though Gina did not personally wear too many graphic tees, a nerdier university friend once explained to her the tribulations of finding the perfect graphic tee, “Junior’s sizes sometimes carry graphic tee’s, but they try too hard to be cute. If you want the good stuff, you gotta go to the Young Men’s section. Don’t even waste your time on Misses.”

The gargoyle ventured into the first section of the store, waving to the associate that greeted her, idly perusing the racks and displays towards the front of the store. She had to be careful of shear or loose-knit fabrics… it’d be horrible to get a run in something she didn’t plan-on buying. Gina spied a white, tunic-styled graphic tee hanging on the wall, and gave a humored “pfffft”.

She plucked one down and showed it to her friend. In slightly-faded blue font, it read “That’s” and below, a picture of a bunch of bananas.

“That’s bananas,” the gargoyle chuckled, searching Nessa for a reaction. What kinds of graphic tee’s? Puns? Nerd-shirts? ? The only way to find-out was to offer her things and see what she went for.

>> ”I wouldn’t mind seeing what you think would work on me,”

Gina started appraising her friend again, measuring Nessa with her eyes, assessing what would look good on her.

“You’d probably look great in just about anything, honestly,” the gargoyle said offhandedly, “You’re so nice and slim.”

Maybe some maroon, Gina thought, her eyes lingering on Nessa and, specifically, her rich auburn hair. Maroon would be pretty on her. Her eyes swam back towards the store. She’d have to look for maroon. Her attention returned to the racks.

“Maybe some warm colors,” the gargoyle offered, “They’d be really nice with your complexion.”

The “That’s Bananas” graphic tee went back on the rack, and the gargoyle resumed perusing. Maroon was a very specific shade, more typical in the autumn—they’d be hard pressed to find it during this time of year. But maybe, maaaaaybe they could find something else warm-colored.

“I’d be damned if maybe they have something with an open back… a skirt or a dress or… something?” the gargoyle mused. Those were the only things she could really try on, honestly. The real challenge was finding something that accommodated her boobs. Ugh.

Walking through the store, Gina and Vanessa were getting acclimated with what was offered on the racks and shelves. There was plenty of trendy fare to examine, but trendy was not always a bad thing. Some trends had staying power, while others were meant to wait through until they died a peaceful death.

A “pffft” caught her attention, returning her eyes to Gina, who was proudly holding up a silly pun shirt. Vanessa shook her head, but she was grinning like a fool. ”Be careful not to rip that shirt, because it’s really terrible.” Booker was rubbing off on her. ”Besides, I think I get enough silly, nerdy tees from work at this point. Nice start, though,” she joked, taking the shirt and returning it to its place on the rack.

Gina took an opportunity to look her over closely, and Vanessa was holding her breath through the whole experience. She was being assessed, and she wanted nothing about her to be out of place as those stunning eyes traveled up and down her body. There was a moment of relief when Gina complimented her matter-of-factly, but it was followed by the reminder that she had no reason to get so excited about her words. It was a common compliment from a kind, complimentary person. Her cheeks had no reason to pinken.

One problem with Gina looking her up and down was the inability to catch her eyes for any length of time. She caught “roon” on one pass-through, and “maru” on the next, so she must have been settling on something maroon. Vanessa could see herself rocking that, between her skin tone and hair color. It should have been no surprise the blossoming fashionista would have an eye for colors.

She also had the sense to realize that maroon was not easy to come across in the summer months. Vanessa was ready for some warm, summer colors anyway. As they perused the racks individually, she could not resist offhandedly saying, ”It’s a shame fall’s still so far off. I think I could see myself killing it in maroon.” Vanessa had to be careful about showing off. It was cheating to use her mind-control like that, but it was not like she disagreed with the thought. ”But I totally agree; warm colors.”

Gina mused aloud, thinking about what they could find in the store that she could try on. Vanessa caught her eye just long enough to hear a mental concern that had less to do with her wings and tail and more to do with facilitating her chest. For a moment, Vanessa accidentally caught herself staring, because they were, indeed, accommodation-worthy. She eventually realized how rude she was being and turned her head away hard enough to almost give herself whiplash.

Finding a top for Gina would be presumptuous, with the wings and… yeah. Unless she came across something perfect, maybe a skirt was the best bet. Vanessa switched to a rack where bottoms and skirts were hanging, looking through the options. Gina was such a California sunbeam, warm and flowy and free. Shuffling through bohemian skirts. Her eyes scanned through lace and silk, patterns and colors, trying to figure out what might suit her unique complexion. ”You know, shopping for you is a fun experience. You have such unique, gorgeous skin, I’m thinking in new ways just to picture what could work.” It was a casual compliment. Vanessa had no problems flirting in most situations, but with Gina, the idea made her more nervous.

Silly, nerdy tees from work?

“What do you do for work?” Gina inquired, sounding envious. She didn’t think Rebecca had mentioned Nessa’s professional endeavors, but the fact that she got nerdy shirts as part of her job was really cool, and not something that you heard of very often. The gargoyle beamed as Nessa commented about the maroon.

“You’d look really pretty in maroon,” the gargoyle agreed, grinning, “I was just thinking that.”

Gina was the kind of person who, honestly, telepathy wasn’t necessary to know what was on her mind. She was an open book, for the most part, one needed only ask the right questions. Wings and tails were constant, niggling concerns, but the chest was another layer of difficulty. It was like trying to juggle on roller-skates, and then adding a blindfold for kicks.

>> ”You know, shopping for you is a fun experience. You have such unique, gorgeous skin, I’m thinking in new ways just to picture what could work.”

Gina gave a soft, humble laugh, touching a hand to her cheek.

“Oh, thank you,” the gargoyle sighed, “I’m rather fond of my dappled-grey, too. I find myself drawn to a lot of pastel colors… especially pinks. I love pink—ooh!” Speaking of…

The gargoyle hurried towards a rack, rubbing the fabric of a jersey-knit dress between thumb and forefinger.

“Thank God for stretch knits,” she breathed, plucking floral-print dress off of the rack. It was predominantly pink and red, with little blue flowers against a white background. The gargoyle flipped the dress around.

“Low cut back,” she breathed, looking to Nessa for her opinion. She flashed the dress to her, an eager glimmer in her eyes. Whatcha think?

“I mean, it might fit me like a tank-top, but daaaamn it looks comfy,” the gargoyle commented, “What do you think? It’ll probably sit just beneath the wings, too.”

And it came in pink, and was only ten bucks. Something else snagged her eye, an off-white, off-the-shoulder dress, and Gina held that one up, too, surveying Nessa again. Her skin’s so lovely and warm… this white’d be great.

“What about this? For you?” Gina asked, proffering it for inspection, “You’d look like a fairy princess in this!”

Evidently Rebecca never filled Gina in on the intricate details of her girlfriend’s life. Considering her ex was conflicted the entire time they were together, it made sense that she might not have spent her time gushing and bragging about Vanessa. It would have been flattering, but maybe Agnes was the only one who warranted that treatment. It could be worse; if Rebecca told Gina everything about her, Vanessa would have had nothing to share on her side of the “get to know each other” conversation.

”I’m actually a ViewTuber, kinda. My brother and I have a little gaming channel, but my main job is with an online production company. Gaming videos, animated web shows, general shenanigans.” The POW Block Party was one of the best things to happen to Vanessa after her transition and emancipation. ”It’s my job to play video games and draw, so I kinda lucked out. Oh, and we have a merch line. Hence the clothes.”

Maroon was on Gina’s mind, but not because she thought it’d work for Vanessa. She specifically thought she would look pretty. That was a very specific word that made her feel a very specific way. ”Thanks,” she mumbled to herself, feeling warmth in her cheeks.

Looking over Gina, Vanessa could see pink pastels against that dappled grey skin. There was plenty of grey exposed, thanks to the blessing of cut-off jeans. The life of a physical mutant was not easy, even if they were beautiful. Vanessa knew all too well how close-minded people could be, yet Gina lived her life proudly and openly, and that could not be more admirable.

Also. Those legs. Damn.

Vanessa snapped out of her trance when Gina selected dresses for the both of them. Striding over, she grabbed the jersey dress and rubbed her thumbs against the fabric. ”I love it. Playful and cute, though you’re definitely going to have to try it. Make sure your boobs don’t pull it up so far you’re showing off that butt of yours.” That nice butt, from what she remembered of their sleepover.

Gina handed over a chiffon dress, and Vanessa appraised it. The fabric was almost sheer, and her fashion guru apparently thought the color would work with her skin. Hearing those thoughts… she could see it. Evidently, the dress would make her a walking, talking fairy princess. ”Ha, I didn’t know how much I wanted to pull off that look until right now. My dad would have flipped hearing that,” she admitted in her laughter.

Before that off-handed comment could be questioned, Vanessa linked an arm around Gina’s elbow. It was already established that personal space was not an issue between them, after all. ”Come on, it’s time to play dress-up. Your princess demands it!” She yanked her friend along toward the changing rooms in the back of the store.

As Nessa explained the details of her professional life, the gargoyle couldn't help but smile. So she's internet-famous like Becca? How crazy was it that someone like Gina knew two famous people?? She admittedly didn't watch too many gaming shows on ViewTube, (she was predominantly into vlogs and music videos) but she'd have to checkout Nessa's channel now that she had been made aware of it.

“That's so cool,” the gargoyle remarked wholeheartedly, “I'll have to check you out sometime.”

Or you know, checkout her channel. Gina did not catch that potential Freudian slip.

>> ”I love it. Playful and cute, though you’re definitely going to have to try it. Make sure your boobs don’t pull it up so far you’re showing off that butt of yours.”

The gargoyle gave a wry laugh, surveying the short Jersey dress and, more specifically, the torso panels. Sagely, the gargoyle remarked, “This'll probably fit more like a tunic than a dress.”

As such, if Gina had just tried to wear the dress as a dress, it likely would give a generous eye-full of butt. But the gargoyle had every intention of keeping her shorts on. That was the downfall of boobs, particularly when it came to junior’s sizes. Things had a habit of fitting differently when you weren't the cookie-cutter slim-figured sort. It’d still be a cute look though.

>> ”Ha, I didn’t know how much I wanted to pull off that look until right now. My dad would have flipped hearing that. Come on, it’s time to play dress-up. Your princess demands it!”

Gina found herself arm-in-arm with Nessa, the two of them proceeding towards the dressing room. In the event that she could find multiple articles of clothing, Gina often tried to make no more than two trips to the dressing room. Trying things in was such a process, after all, that the most pragmatic approach was to stockpile clothes before trying them on. Nessa, however, seemed ready to go, and thus Gina tagged along.

“After you, my liege,” the gargoyle remarked teasingly back. How much more could Gina possibly find, anyways? Maybe a couple of skirts. The point was to hangout with Nessa, not fill her wardrobe.

Cluelessly, she wondered why Nessa’s dad would take issue with fairies? Was he one of those “magic is the devil, so don't read fantasy books” types

The two of them strolled arm-in-arm towards the fitting rooms. An attendant was readily there to assist them, checking to see how many items the ladies had collected and unlocking two fitting rooms for their use.

“Shall we?” the gargoyle asked, gesturing to one of the open rooms.

Gina’s Freudian slip did not go unnoticed, and Vanessa did a double-take at the flubbed comment. She should have held her tongue, because Gina was so clearly unaware, but it felt like a rare chance to sound clever and smooth. ”I mean, I’m certainly not going to stop you,” she replied playfully.

The two women made their way to the back of the store, and an employee with a chipper expression helped them by unlocking two fitting rooms. Going clothes shopping and trying things on always gave Vanessa a thrill. When she started out with Shelby, the first of Booker’s three exes to complete “The Bookman Biathlon,” she was terrified. Attendants and salespeople who realized what she was doing and who she was shot her uncomfortable looks, and those sat uncomfortably in her stomach. The judgment was still not enough to push back the excitement of feeling pretty and comfortable for the first time. Those early trips were probably the start of Vanessa’s love of clothing.

Gina gestured to the rooms, and Vanessa nodded. ”We shall!” she replied regally, still living in her princess persona.

Closing the door to her changing room behind her, Vanessa quickly unbuttoned and shimmied out of her jeans. After pulling her cropped tee over her head, she looked at herself in the mirror, standing in her sky-blue bra and her blue and white polka dot hipster panties. It had been such a long journey for her to reach the point where she was happy looking into a mirror. Now that she was there, she knew she was seeing her ideal self, (more or less,) and that always made her heart flutter.

Vanessa slipped the chiffon dress over her head, adjusting the sleeves and smoothing out the body of the dress. She liked the seam at the waist, creating the illusion that her chest was larger than it was. Gina was right; she loved the way the color looked on her skin, and she felt like a fairy princess. Not a princess trapped in a tower; the kind of princess that longed for adventure and disobeyed her parents. She was a modern Disney Princess, chock full of good lessons for young girls.

The process of changing was quick for her, but she knew Gina might need a few extra minutes to carefully navigate around her wings. She would be patient, but it did give her time to think things over. She was loving her time with Gina, just as she did the first time they hung out. The memory of their first night reminded her of the Rebecca complication. She wanted to give Gina an out. Vanessa could survive without her friendship, and she did not want to be an obligation that made things strained between friends.

”Hey Gina?” she called timidly over the divider between fitting rooms. ”You don’t have to be my friend, you know. I mean, I love having you around, and you’re way fun and totally great,” and that was enough gushing. ”It’s just… I don’t want to make things weird. I know you and Rebecca are friends. I’d get it if it was easier to just be friends with one of us.”

If that was their last time hanging out, Vanessa could live with those dress-up memories.

Gina padded into the neighboring dressing room, the dress draped over her arm. She latched the door shut behind her, tossing the dress onto the bench. Changing clothes was much more procedural. She reached over her shoulders to unsnap the racer-back. The small snaps popped satisfyingly, and then the collar was lifted carefully over her head and horns…

>> ”Hey Gina?”

“Hm?” the gargoyle breathed, wriggling out of her tank top and pushing it past her tail and hips.

>> ”You don’t have to be my friend, you know. I mean, I love having you around, and you’re way fun and totally great.”

Gina paused, kicking the shirt free of her feet. What? What was she trying to get at? She surveyed the dress, bunching it into a donut of fabric. She stepped through the dress, wrapping her tail around her leg. Piece of cake—God bless stretch knits.

>> ”It’s just… I don’t want to make things weird. I know you and Rebecca are friends. I’d get it if it was easier to just be friends with one of us.”

Gina shimmied the dress the rest of the way up, pulling the straps up over her shoulder. She fixed the dress, carefully flattening the creases. Her intuition had been fairly accurate. The dress came down a few inches on her leg, the entirety of the dress’s torso encapsulating her bust. It was, however, incredibly cute, and the back dipped just below her wings. As the petite young woman twirled in the mirror, she chewed on her words. A silence settled between the two cubicles.

“Ready?” the gargoyle called softly, unlatching the door to her room. She stepped out, awaiting her friend, “I think I've got a keeper.”

Whether or not Nessa was ready to come out of the dressing room, Gina began to gently state her case.

“If it’s weird for you, I can respect that,” Gina explained, “But I think… I can be both of your friends. I mean, I didn't really know you as ‘Rebecca and Vanessa’, so it won't be, like, some weird dissonance to be friends with you separately.”

The gargoyle have a wry smile, “I mean, it's not like you’re the one doing wrong by Becca. If that were the case than I'd obviously banish you.”

Becca has the benefit of rapport working in her favor… she had been around long enough that even something as heinous as cheating could be forgiven in the interest of preserving a friendship.

The gargoyle twirled, her hands out, "Whatcha think?"