1964-07-22 - Get in the car, losers, we're going shopping
Summary: Folks be shopping
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
bucky gwen-stacy kaleb harper lorna remy-lebeau 

Lorna and Remy have come down to the city to do all sorts of stuff like hang out, eat, shop. Currently they're at Macy's. Lorna is probably looking for something stylish. Remy is probably looking for something to steal. They're currently in the shoes section and Remy is trying on a new pair of boots. Out of the corner of his eye he thinks he sees something, but it disappears almost as quickly as it arrived. He looks to Lorna to gauge if she saw it.

Lorna had been, well, she had been very much a teenaged girl. She was now 'officially' kinda sorta dating yet another rich boy mutant, pretty boy. And as a result, was back to wanting all things girly and expensive. Fretting over shoes and lace applique and other assorted hair ties and ribbons. She had several would be purchases stacked on the chair beside her as she shoved her foot into yet another pair of heels that were clearly too tall for the girl.

It wasn't like she actually wore anything very tall anyways. "Hey Remy, do you think that I could spend a whole evenin levitating to keep my feet from hurting if I got these?" She shifted, the pair of black heels were severe but on the instep were painted an electric green, matching her hair.

Shoes. Left to her own devices, Harper will wear converse sneakers just about everywhere. But sometimes work requires wearing something a little more formal, and that means purchasing heels. Heels are the worst possible decision in any situation where you may be required to do more than sit at a table, but sometimes blending in means doing something that isn't entirely practical. So it is with great reluctance that she approaches the shoe department, stepping up to the displays with an eye for something both attractive and practical.

"Iffen de desire was dere, you could probably do whatever de hell you wantin, chere." The cajun kneels in the boots to make sure they have the certain ankle support, yet flexibility he needs. Running from the police teaches you a few things about what is important in footwear. Noticing Harper, Remy gives an upwards nod. "I'm tinkin' dose would look mighty fine on you, I do declah," he announces to the newcomer.

Lorna pouted slightly and kicked off the heels, taking his words as something less than ideal. The shoes she'd been trying on were quickly replaced back on the rack. She shifted about, and continued to pick another pair of shoes, and glanced up at Remy's words. Her first thought being they were about the new purple toned shoes she'd picked up.. but no. A strange.

A huff followed that and she returned this pair of shoes as well to the rack.

"These?" Harper smirks, holding up a pair of white sandals with a huge flower on the ankle strap. "A little bit more than I was looking for." There's a soft lilt to her words, familiar no doubt to Remy - that distinctive patois of southern and cajun that comes from New Orleans. "By which I mean if I wanted to be a flower show, they'd be great." She takes a step back, taking a look at a few less attention-grabbing pairs.

"Well, ah meant dose ones. Or mebbe dese ones," Remy kneels down to pull out a pair of simple black heels whose upper is made from a criss crossing of straps. "White be so passe, mon ami." He looks back toward Lorna and chuckles as she is huffing about, "Ahm tinkin' your beau will be liking either of dose, chere. Y'must really dig 'im t'be so tangled up in knots over dis." He smiles in an aside to Harper. "New boyfriend," he says quietly as if that's all that needs to be said.

Lorna glanced at the floral white shoes and looked about ready to make a similar grab herself, only halting the movement as Remy commented on them. Instead she grabbed a pair of strappy looking red shoes, polished to a shine. "It's less that and the fact that Kaleb actually takes me out to really fancy places and I am not going to get laughed at because I look like I got everything at the thrift store Remy! It's bad enough all the society types just mutter and stare at my hair, but at least I can look nice." She muttered, shoving her foot into the shoe to try it on. Her lips thinning as she shook her head and cast these aside too. Too tight in the toes.

The joys of shoe shopping. Her gaze lifted back toward Harper briefly and back to the rack.

Remy LeBeau checks Harps for pulse

"Ah," Harper nods to Remy with a sympathetic smile, stepping over to take a look at the heels he's picked out. "Classy," she muses, measuring the heel against her thumb, checking where the straps are all attached and interwoven. "I've got disappointing news for you, sugar," she laughs softly to Lorna. "The boys are never looking at the shoes. The women might be, though," she allows with a tilt of her head.

"Well less not be so assumin, chere. Men, at least d'ones worth a lady's time be wise enough to check all parts of d'attire for dat bit o'class," Remy says with a bit of a grin. "You tell ole Remy your name and I'll buy one of dose black shoes for you chere. Tinkin' bout both if you tell me where you come from. Reckon it ain't too far from where I came from." He lolls his head over towards Lorna, "He gunna like whatevah you wearin and if he care bout what dem othas sayin he ain't worth yo' time."

Lorna rolled her eyes, and muttered under her breath as another pair of heels she tried on were just too long in the back. A frown marring her expression as she glanced toward the strange woman and then toward Remy. "Kaleb doesn't care what they're going to say," She chewed her lower lip. "I care what they say because it's about me." She shook her head and shifted to reach for a pair of shoes on the top shelf and bring them down to try on.

Never mind that said boy had powers of sound manipulation and purposefully tried to keep said whispers from ever reaching her ears, but it still bothered her. Like all teenagers, she assumed everyone noticed everything.

"Oh? Generous of you," Harper smiles faintly back at Remy, setting the shoe back down and taking a few steps away to inspect another pair. "Turns out I can buy my own shoes, though. I grew up in New Orleans," she adds before looking back to Lorna, amusement mingled with an odd sort of detachment, like she understands the feelings intellectually but can't quite identify. "Shoes don't much change the conversation, but if they make you feel more confident, then confidence can change the conversation."

"Tinkin dat you be worried too much, but ahm guessin' you be disagreein' on dat front, chere," Remy says to Lorna before he holds his heart in mocking. "You won't even tell ole Remy your name? Either way, Nawlins is where I come from too. Iss a small world, non?"

Lorna shot Remy a dry look, her lips twisting together as she continued to try on shoes here and there. Only casting her gaze back at the two every so often. "Well I'd feel better if I had a pair of shoes that looked decent, and a new dress, and accessories.." She muttered, she wanted a new clutch too but that likely wasn't in the budget for today. Not that she was actually spending her own money for this shopping trip, but still. She felt bad for spending anything and that went to war with her inner need to have something new.

"Besides Remy, you only ever wear jeans.."

"Small world, big city," Harper replies to Remy, setting down a shoe and coming back over toward Lorna. "Do you have the dress picked out yet?" she asks the girl with a small smile. "I always like to start with the dress. There are so many more ways a dress can go wrong than shoes. It's easier to find shoes to go with the perfect dress than a dress to go with perfect shoes."

Remy's hand waves up in front of his face as if he's said all he can say to Lorna. Sometimes getting her to listen to anything is like hitting yourself in the head with a hammer: futile and you should probably stop if you've started already. He's been that age, he knows how they are. And how he was. "Guess so, Tex."

Loran exhaled a breath, glancing upwards as Harper came over and offered her advice. "No, I mean, I picked up a few maybes, but I don't really love them, you know? Like they're nice, but they're not exactly what I'm looking for." She gestured to a few different colored dresses she'd stacked on the bench beside her.

"And I was just thinking, maybe if I found a pair of shoes that I loved it would be easier.."

"See, I've found that finding the perfect pair of shoes before I've picked a dress only helps if I've got a few choices of dresses that I love that I can't decide between. Then you find the shoes you love and pick the dress that goes best with them." Harper steps back to pick up the shoes Remy had pointed out, settling onto a bench and pulling off her sneakers and socks to trade them out for the strappy heels. "Uncle?" she asks Remy with a wry smile, pointing between him and Lorna.

"Relationship advisor," Remy shoots back before looking back to Lorna. "All things advisor," he adds, looking back to Harper. He leans against one of the racks, immediately getting a dirty look from a salesperson who is a good judge of character. Remy notices it, but doesn't care.

Lorna listened to Harper, nodding along with her advice, her lips forming a small 'o' of thought. "That makes sense." She bit her lower lip, considering. "I guess I gotta go back to the dress department and see."

A pause followed before she broke out into laughter at the thought of Remy being her uncle. She shook her head, grinning. "Nope, he's a friend." At Remy's description of himself she snorted, rolling her eyes. "Hey, I advised plenty of good ideas back."

Harper buckles both shoes on, standing up and taking a few steps to test them out. Despite her casual attire, the shift in her posture looks very much like someone who knows exactly what she's doing, entirely comfortable in the tall stilettos. "Harper," she finally introduces herself to Remy, walking over to offer a hand. "Must be a good friend to go shopping for a whole outfit. Something tells me this isn't your usual sort of place."

"Tell me one," Remy says to Lorna with a raised eyebrow and a slow grin. "Good 'nuff," he responds before peering at Harper. "What sort of place you imagine would be my usual?" he asks.

"Hey I advised not breaking down the door when we went down south." She arched a brow, settling her hands on her hips, her gaze swinging back toward Harper and she gaped as the woman walked smoothly in a pair of heels.

"Woah, cool. Any chance you could teach me how to walk like that? Cause uhm. I can't. Heels hurt too much." She mumbled, biting her lower lip and glancing back toward Remy. Judging. Oh so much judging.

"Somewhere a whole lot less well-lit," Harper smirks at Remy, winking and turning back toward Lorna with an arch of her brow. "I could give you a few pointers, sure," she nods. "But most of it's practice. And being willing to hurt a little bit. Pick up a pair and put them on, I can walk you a few steps."

"I dun get paid enough for dis mess," Remy says as Harper rips on his looks. That's when he notices the look that Lorna's giving him. "What." It's a statement, not a question.

"I'm pretty sure you don't get paid at all, Remy." Lorna shot back, moving to grab a pair of heels that she'd liked but had been hurting her feet the way that they curved upwards and back. They gave her several inches more of height and she wobbled slightly as she put them on. A glance was spared back toward Harper and she grinned.

"Thanks. So.. now what?"

"Oh, now, sugar, no one said dimly lit places were a bad thing," Harper laughs to Remy as she waits for Lorna to get the shoes on. "All right, then. So step one is lean yourself back just a little bit. Push your hips forward, shoulders back, and don't stick your neck out. You're going to think that sounds funny, until you realize that hunching when you feel uncomfortable and off-balance is completely normal. So. Posture first."

"Dats right and I'm severely underpaid," the Cajun calls out to Lorna, but keeps his eyes on Harper. "Yeah, ah got d'implication," Remy says with a jokingly irritated look and a wave of the hand. He looks at her, and looks at her /again/. A sudden recognition comes to him as he looks at her anew. "Wait. You're not…." He tilts his head, "You're lot little Harper. De one who used to hang around Pierre's bar down in de Quarter." His head cocks back in a wait a minute sort of a way.

Lorna seemed to listen to Harper with all the intensity that she did with her training and her school work. She nodded, attempting to do each of the things that Harper suggested in turn, looking more than a little awkward as she attempted it with a few steps. It was comical, as after the first three steps she was starting to hunch forward just as Harper had said was likely to do.

"Ow. Okay. Maybe not heels this high." She paused, glancing back to Remy.

"You could say it's downright criminal Remy, how little you get paid." Pun? Oh yes.

Harper casts a swift, sidelong glance toward Remy at his question, but she doesn't answer it just yet, instead stepping forward to lightly adjust Lorna's posture. "You want to step heel to toe, which is also going to feel strange, since you've got a tiny heel. But the rocking helps it look natural instead of like stomping. Let yourself take smaller steps - it suits the heels. And pick a focus point in front of you to walk in a straight line toward, so you don't end up staring down at the ground in front of you."

"Very funny," says in reply to Lorna at her jibe. "Only criminal ting bout me dese days is how much time I spend talkin' to a wall." Nevertheless he gives a nod towards the mutant and smiles. "Tinkin' your boy gun love dose, chere."

Lorna nodded to Harper's words, swinging her step more and moving with smaller steps. She only made the mistake of slowing down and looking down as she turned back at the end of the aisle and back. Her gaze swinging back toward Remy as she doesn't look completely awkward. She grinned, "I dunno. He doesn't really notice anything unless it's a building, actually." She colored and then glanced back toward Harper.

"Thanks for the advice, I really actually never got it for 'How to Walk in Heels' thing."

"Happy to help," Harper nods to Lorna with a small smile - one that fades a bit as she turns back to Remy and trusts the heels to distract Lorna for a moment. "For extra impact, put one foot directly in front of the other as you step. Gives your hips that nice sway." Only then does she look to Remy, head tilting in consideration. "Hang around would be an overstatement, I think. But I've been there."

Remy tilts his head farther back and he's looking at her with a bit of a grin and his mutant eyes are mere slits. "You ain't still mad 'bout when we tole that boy who barbacked dere you had a crush on him are ya? Dat wasn't even my idea."

Remy looks over toward Lorna with raised eyebrows, "You sure you're wit de right guy, Lorna? I hope he notices lil more den dat."

Lorna attempted to pull off what Harper suggested, and surprise of surprises she had hips! The green haired mutant however, faltered as Remy spoke and shifted back to standing awkwardly. She blinked, and bit her lower lip, pushing green locks of hair back behind her ears. "Uhm.. I'm really .. I dunno! No? Yes? I've only gone on like two dates with him! Gosh, Remy don't give me deep psychological questions when I'm trying to walk in heels." She pouted, and shook her head.

"It's not easy. Okay?"

"More about telling my uncle when I'd run in to hide," Harper snorts. Granted, it wasn't her uncle - it was a handler for the program. And the punishment for getting caught was a little bit stricter than a grounding. But there's nothing to be gained from sharing those tidbits. Now that Lorna's had some practice, she settles back onto the bench, unbuckling the shoes.

"Yeah yeah yeah, you know enough. He a rich pretty boy. Dats how you like em. We all got our types," Remy calls out with a chuckle before winking at Harper. "Yeah, I shouldn't have done dat neither. Sorry."

Lorna started peeling off the heels she'd worn grimacing as she rubbed the back of her heels, the skin pink already from the pressure the shoe had put on it. "He didn't run away knowing who my father was and he knows everything about my family." She pursed her lips, "Which really is more than I can say for most." She exhaled a breath, glancing toward Harper and back to Remy.

"And he's not like Julian."

"You can fix that with a bandaid and some baby powder," Harper adds to Lorna as she notes the rubbing, smile faint. "Though I'd recommend picking a pair that fits better to begin with. Also, if you arch your foot a bit when you step, it helps the shoe stay put better, so it's less likely to move and rub." She sets the shoes back into place, putting her own socks and shoes back on with a wiggle of her toes. "What brought you out of New Orleans?" she asks Remy, speculative.

"Tings got a little hot for me down dere. Plus, it went to shit after Belladonna and I got married. Den when we got divorced," Remy says with a shrug of his shoulders. "You musta met Bell down dere, too, huh? Been up here a few times. Got ta likin' it." He leaves out that whole mutant freedom fighter thing. People hate that cop attacking stuff. "One guy runs from yo daddy and you tink all guys do."

Lorna glanced gratefully up at Harper flashing her a smile at the advice on how to deal with heels scraping her skin off. "Thanks, I'll have to pick some up before we head back home." Her gaze settled back on Remy and she made a huff of a breath.

"Two guys, two. One took off as soon as his back was turned and fled. The other just waited until dinner was over. One is unlucky, two is a pattern."

Harper passes the heels to a salesperson with a nod that says she'll take them, then looks back to Remy and Lorna, amused. "Nothing wrong with having a type. Or family, for that matter. Besides, you look old enough not to be living at home. How soon are you introducing a boy to your father?"

"Harper here gotta point," Remy says with a shrug. He reaches for his wallet and raises an eyebrow. "Good ting you got yoself money to cover it, Harps. Ole Remy spent more money at the ice cream shop den he thought."

Lorna heaved a sigh, "Uhm. Introducing him to my father? Uhh… dunno… My father doesn't even know I've been on a date yet." She winced, and pushed her hair back from her face. Her gaze swung back to Remy and she shrugged at the mention of the ice cream shop.

"Hey that's not my fault. I only got an ice cream sundae."

Speaking of 'the boy' there he was looking like a high fashion Mod poster boy. slacks and sleeves had a cease, and the best was tailored to fit. He wrote a tow and sunglasses indoors on a Sunday and the brown wingtips on his feet had a shine to them. He made no sound including any footfall as he walked over observing them. "Yeah, I heard he's a total pill." He tsked and greeted Lorna, "What are you thinking?" He shook his head and greeted her, "Ms. Dane." the others got a vague nod. Of course he heard everything. Its what he did.

"Ole Remy has a tendency to take the five finger discount," Harper snorts softly, though there's a flicker of amusement in her features. Apparently she does remember him more than she admitted just a few moments ago. As Kaleb approaches, she arches a brow, looking between him and Lorna as the amusement in her features deepens. Clearly this just got interesting.

"Well, you can take de boy outta de guild but can't take de guild outta de boy," Remy replies. He's about to say something to Lorna as a guy right out of Glamour magazine walks up. Remy says nothing, just raises his eyebrow at Lorna.

Lorna blinked repeatedly in surprise as Kaleb came walking up, and she quickly turned an interesting shade of pink. "Kaleb!" She stood in her barefeet, a pair of bright red heels in her hand and a stack of would be purchases on a bench beside her. She bit her lower lip, and set the heels down.

"Uhm Remy, this is Kaleb. Kaleb this is Remy." She mumbled, "You didn't tell me you'd be shopping today..?" She offered lamely.

Kaleb seemed to glance the group over with a causal detachment. If he noticed her turning a splendid shade of vermilion he made no indication. Instead he extended a hand to Remy, "Hey." At Lorna's exclaim a faint grin of amusement warmed his expression. He chuckled, "I do my own shopping you know. And I was notified that I will be attending a thing for world's fair next week and I can't meet Mr. Stark in the shoes that I had, pay tense." not even a name drop, just things on his to do . list

"Mmmhmm," Harper hums to Remy, unconvinced. Besides, Kaleb and Lorna look like they're just ripe for poking with sticks. But that would be imprudent, especially around someone who's recognized her. "Well. I should probably finish up here," she says, clearing her throat. "Looks like things are well in hand here."

Remy slowly lifts his arms off the rack to shake Kaleb's hand. "Dis de boy we dun heard all about, huh?" He gives a whistle. "Sure ole poppa told you 'bout what happens should you not treat her right. And den you get to deal wit me after." There's a bit of an awkward silence and Remy slaps Kaleb on the arm. "I'm just shittin ya, kid." He looks to Harper and looks genuinely sad, "You leavin' already?"

Lorna was still pink in the face as she crossed her arms her gaze swinging between the two men and back to Harper. "Thanks for the advice." She offered lamely, and then her gaze was turning back toward Kaleb, and she bit her lower lip once more. "Uhm.. thanks for the flowers this morning." She mumbled and toed the ground. Then she was glowering at Remy.

"Remy! You know he hasn't met my father yet, I just told you. Gosh. And you might see Kaleb around.. The Professor already talked to him." She mumbled, rubbing her upper arm, before she turned around to slide her old flip flops back on.

Kaleb seemed, for better or worse, unphased by the question. Although to be fair fear was an emotion and Kaleb might have too have some of those first. He rocked slightly from the slap to the shoulder but answered Remy all the same with the same casual cadence he addressed everything else, "That the man is a war hero aside? Shouldn't Lorna's disappointment be motivation enough?" An eyebrow arched and his head looked to Harper with a faint shake of his head, "No need to leave on my account." At the thank you for the flowers his entire attention swiveled to Lorna. An eyebrow arched over the frame of the sunglasses. His head tilted a bit in agreement to her, "Eh yesterday was a little harrowing. I thought i'd help." Okay, he was terrible, but not entirely dreadful.

"I hadn't actually planned on running into anyone here," Harper replies to Remy, pushing a hand through her hair and half-turning to look around the store for a moment. "Really, nothing personal," she assures Kaleb with a small smile. Maybe a little bit personal, in the sense that she can only resist the urge to be difficult for so long, after all. "Although I could use a run through the makeup counter."

Oh god, please don't let him be the third wheel. "I'll join ya," Remy says as he hops into action rather quickly. "We'll let de two lovebirds to demselves, n'est ce-pas?" he says with an upwards nod towards Harper.

Lorna glanced back at Kaleb and colored faintly again, pink remaining on her cheeks as she stood there awkwardly. When Harper and then Remy in turn start to leave, she makes a suddenly very deer in the headlights manner of a look. "Uhm.. I.. I guess I'll see you back at the car Remy?" She had driven over after all. Though she didn't doubt for a second that Remy could just as easily get back to the school without her.

Her gaze slid back toward Kaleb and she chewed her lower lip. "The gift was .. it was really nice." She mumbled softly.

Kaleb sighed and was about to have too much fun with this afternoon. With a level of Deadpan the British would deem laudable he replied regrettably to Lorna, "First they question my moral fiber and then they abandon you with said person of questionable merit?" He was too amused watching Remy try to tiptoe back out of this situation. "I might call their qualifications to make that call into question were I you." She was nervous, he wasn't. He should have several reasons to be but that'd also require him giving a fig about the opinion of others. Presently there seemed to be exception to this in the minute, which he addressed. "You think I make a habit of half-assing anything important?" Blunt and frank but point made. Leaving them alone though did seem to confuse him just a hair though.

"Actually, I was trying to shake this one," Harper calls over her shoulder to Kaleb and Lorna with a smirk, pointing her thumb toward Remy. "But he's not very good at taking no for an answer." She pauses at a shoe display a short distance away, crossing her arms and leaning on the edge of it with a playful arch of her brow in Remy's direction. "You know, your eagerness to shop for shoes and make up is making me wonder what you're in this for."

"Ah was just doin' de kid a favor, but bein' third wheel wit her and her boyfriend is one step too far," Remy replies. "Ain't had sometin dat much saccharine since Cafe du Monde." He tilts his head at Harper and shrugs his shoulders, "You wanna bug outta here, dun worry to much 'bout me, child. Ole Remy be okay."

Gwen steps carefully into Macy's. She's trying to do a LOT of things carefully, after what happened at home. And on the subway. And in the park. She was REAL torn up over the park thing.
She blinks at the lights, looking furtively at the people. She takes a breath, rubbing her temples, then starts heading for women's wear, her hands in her jacket pockets.

Lorna made a face, "Remy isn't going to actually question your moral fiber. Trust me. He needs more in his diet." Lame attempt of a joke? Entirely, but Lorna was on a role it would seem with puns. She bent, picking up the dresses that she'd liked but not loved, and she turned her attention back toward the other two as Harper called back over her shoulder.

"Hey I don't judge if Remy wants to hang out in the lady's department all the time. Thought I already question his style choices as they default to 'jeans'."

Kaleb was more acerbic wit with saccharine anything. That was all Lorna. The jibe at him from here actually managed to get a snicker out of the generally stoic young man. He eyes her and the choices in hand and it was not an easy thing to decide if the kid was judging her or just the dresses or her for choosing those. "So are you way overthinking this or are you just not happy with…" His hand waved vaguely at the selection. His interests went back to the pair she came with curiously and then Ms. Stacey. Under his breath he noted to Lorna curiously, "I think I know her. We ran from the cops. Terrible at it." He shook his head and wet back to the important discussion, "If you can't decide shoot for the shoes and see what they tell you."

So now that he's got a real job, he's got enough money to buy the clothes that go with it, instead of washing and pressing the same few shirts and suits over and over again. And could do with a set of boots that're a bit classier than the battered steeltoes that got him the job in the first place. Bucky's in a white dress shirt and jeans, glove on the left hand….and under one arm, several new shirts and a box with the new boots in. As if that'll be enough of a disguise to hide him from the Russians. Heading past as if in search of more mens' clothes.

Ohhh, all the signals. Like tiny lights, all over the place.
Gwen couldn't suppress a soft moan of pain at the headache she was dealing with, but unless you were three feet away or had super-hearing, you wouldn't know anything. She began checking jeans, frowning at the sizes. What size was she now?
Deep breaths. Process. Focus.
She looks over at the small group chatting, and she frowned in puzzlement. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath again, then impulsively grabbed three pairs of jeans and began heading to the dressing rooms.

"Saccharine was not the word I was going for," Harper muses to Remy, though it's evident she has another word in mind. "But it sounds like you volunteered," she smirks, reaching over to clap a hand to his shoulder. As Bucky passes, she perks up a bit, suddenly very interested.

"Well, what can I say?" Remy says with an exhaled grin. "I'm a volunteering sort." He notices Harper take interest in the young man over that way. He raises his eyebrow. "Friend of yours?" Man, he's getting third wheeled everywhere he damn well goes. Time to head to the bar.

Lorna glanced back to Kaleb from her armload of dresses and blushed once more. "I'm not happy with them, I thought maybe I could find a shoe that works. But I didn't. Got some practice wearing heels though. So there's that." She glanced down at the pile of dresses and made a face. "They don't look bad, but I don't love them either." She grumbled.

Then her focus shifted toward Gwen when Kaleb murmured toward her. Her brows furrowing as she considered the woman's swift movement toward the dressing room. Her response cut off however at Bucky's entrance. Her head snapped up, and her lips fell into an 'o' as she stared at him. Or more likely, his arm. She stepped down the racks of shoes, trailing along distractedly, and in obvious, curiousity.

Kaleb offered to Lorna, "Eh you're one step ahead of me there." Not that he had any interest in wearingheels, but hey, minor victory for her and short women everywhere. He eyed her arm full of things and shook his head, "Nah, if you don't love em don't get em. Never compromise. You'll feel worse for it later." Says the clothes horse from experience. As for her reaction to Gwen he murmured, "It was after that guy tried to hit Jay. Long story. it's …fine." The haughty young man had to stop though watching Bucky move through that space and Lorna was off like a chipmunk seeking things that were likely not her business or she just developed a new power in fashion detection.

He's got an odd near-swagger to his stride, not quite a limp. An old injury, perhaps, or something else that's thrown off his balance. Harper's lucky….Lorna's obvious interest is enough to draw Bucky's attention in return. He turns, deliberately, and looks at her. "You know it's rude to stare, right?" he asks, more Brooklyn than ever in his speech. To her senses….yeah, he's utterly bizarre. That one arm is a weird alloy, articulated in ways far beyond the average prosthesis. What *is* this guy? ….and then there's the weaponry he's carrying. At least three knives - one stowed in each boot, one little one hidden behind his belt.

The girl ducks into the dressing room, but a plainclothes security person begins approaching the dressing rooms, watching the entrance without actually going in. Maybe it's the motorcycle jacket.
There is some shifting around in the dressing room, then an aggrieved groan. "…Really?"
Then the sound of ripping denim. "…crud."

Lorna was on a mission, Kaleb forgotten, Gwen unnoted as she made a beeline for Bucky. When he spoke to her, she drew to a halt near him, blinking owlishly with wide green eyes and she rocked her weight back onto her heels. "You've got a metal arm, you know that right? I mean technically it goes into your bone structure to reinforce the joints, but woah.." She whistled, bending this way and that.

Bucky himself might feel a light pressure as she reached out with her powers, almost like a million little pokes and prods from little fingers all at once.

Kaleb arched an eyebrow as Lorna took off leaving him standing there. He had no explanation for it, nor did she seem to offer one. Checking his watch he still had the things he came here to accomplish today again returned to his own devices abruptly. Then, with little fanfare as his shopping trip began he turned without making a sound and left.

Those're the magic words. His expression flattens out into near-nothing…but the pale eyes are suddenly blazing with anger. "Kid, shut up," he hisses. "I'm trying to do my shopping here, for Pete's sake. Didn't your mom ever tell you not to make fun of someone's disability?" Like he's some veteran with a fiberglass prosthesis. Then she's touching his arm with her abilities….and he hastily sets down what he'd been planning to buy and looks for the nearest exit.

Kaleb goes home.

Lorna flushed and tooka step back, her eyes still wide. "Sorry," She mumbled, cheeks burning her arms still filled with dresses. "I just thought.. I thought uhm. maybe you were like me too. I know a lot of powered people, a lot mutants, who have metal parts." She bit her lower lip. And looked very much like a wounded puppy. Her brows furrowing as she kept looking over Bucky's arm.


The security guy peers in slightly as there is another ripping sound. "Dammit…" comes from the dressing room, and then Gwen comes out again, holding two pairs of pants, one with a visible rip. She spots the guard, then says, "I'm PAYING for this, allright? Geez." She puts them down on a bench as she looks at the rather snug jeans, frowning slightly. They tend to be very snug, highlighting her athletic shape, but she seems troubled.

She's just a girl….and for a moment, Bucky's taken aback. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," he says, gruffly. "And…..do you?" he asks, more slowly. Clearly, an idea's just come to him. "I'm…so far's I know I'm not a mutant…"

Lorna glanced toward the dressing room curiously, but a girl ripping jeans wasn't that big a deal. Nor that odd. However the man before her was a curiousity and she nodded, biting her lower lip. "It's okay. And yeah, I have a few friends that have metal skeletons. And they've got a healing factor." She considered him, and tilted her head.

"I can sense metal, so, judging by the weight alone, I'm shocked that you can lift it. You might not be a mutant, but you gotta be pretty strong, right?"

The girl frowns. "They're too tight,"

The girl frowns. "They're too tight," she mutters to herself, then goes back to the stacks to look for other pairs, picking up two more and heading back into the dressing room.
"I'm watching you," the security guy says. "Oh, go piss up a rope," she says irritably, and shuts the door.

Of course he's keeping an eye on the security guard….praying he's distracted. Then, one of those ideas that looks good at first glance comes to him….and Bucky shouts to him, "I saw her taking some in there and leaving 'em. Some of the lingerie first. She's gotta have stashed 'em." Poor Gwen - surely what she needs is some guard busting in on her. He leaves his own goods on that counter - no stealing, himself. To Lorna, he says, "Sorry, but I gotta go. We can talk about this some other place. A'right?"

Lorna blinked and then nodded, hefting her own pile of purchases in her arms. "Okay. Good bye mister." She murmured, stepping off to get lost in the dress department again.

The guard looks at Bucky, and apparently considers him more credible than her. He knocks on the door. "Hey! What are you doing in there?"
"Can you…hold on a minute? I'm…CHANGING." Her voice sounds strained.
"If you're not out in 30 seconds, I'm calling the cops!"

Exit, stage left. He doesn't run - running'll call the attention of the store's detectives, let alone security. So, with the satisfied air of a man who knows he's done his civic duty, Bucky's more or less strolling out, hands in his pockets.

The guard frowns, then uses a tool to open the turning latch from the outside, opening the door. He stops, staring for a long moment, then looks around. He stops the dressing room attendant.
"Did you see some gang girl leave?"
"Uh, no sir…"
"Well, keep an eye out. I think we got a shoplifter and she just gave me the slip."
"…from a DRESSING ROOM?"
"Don't give me any lip, just LOOK."

That last exchange he overhears….and Bucky pauses for just a moment, looking back. Where'd she go?…..and where is she now? Then he's slipping out the door, back on to the busy sidewalk.

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