ikissdhimbck | OOM: Mineral City, 1888 -- That's why I hang my hat... -- for Rachel

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OOM: Mineral City, 1888 -- That's why I hang my hat... -- for Rachel

Kate doesn't try to draw attention to herself, but it's kind of hard to sneak through the bar leading a 15-hand pony. Beaut's not fond of hardwood, truth be told, but convenient doors to Texas aren't always to be found from the forest outside.

"Come along, sugar. Not far now an' there'll be dirt under your hooves again."

Beaut issues a dubious snort, sidestepping when a waitrat ventures a little too close. Kate swings around to steady her, arm brushing a piece of yellowed paper she's got tucked into her britches. She knocks it loose, and it flutters to the floor behind her.

"He ain't botherin' you. C'mon."

She moves a little faster. The quicker she gets Beaut outside, the better. Opening her door, she grins as Beaut's ears twitch forward in recognition, and lets her mosey out first.

"No, no. By all means, let me hold the door for you."

The two disappear.

But the yellowed map remains.

As does the door.

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Oh.

Well, that makes a good deal more sense. She dismounts, more at ease with her own sanity now.

"Miss Rachel! How did you — why?"

<Trust me.>

When she does not immediately act, Rachel sighs in Kate's head. <Look, if I didn't like you, I'd want you to see me demorph. I'm trying to save you some screaming nightmares.>

She could ask what exactly a 'demorph' entails.

She could also point out that she's got enough 'screaming nightmares' to feel pretty secure nothing Rachel could do would be worse than what she's already seen.

Instead, she chooses to focus on Rachel admitting she likes her.

Pardon the smug grin on her face just before she obediently turns around.

Yeah well-

She can just-

That is, it's-

Shut up.

Rachel waits until Kate has fully turned before focusing. Kate's horse will really not like what she's about to do, but it'll calm down when she's done.

Probably.

Morphing has nothing to do with pain, usually. But that doesn't negate the sound of cracking bones, the slosh of moving organs, and the way her tail shoots inside her body at the same time blonde hair sprouts from her head.

Yeah. It's a really good thing Kate turned. Rachel has horse teeth up to the last second of that demorph.

Beaut nickers, pinning her ears and taking a few steps back before Kate steadies her. Those aren't exactly pleasant sounds coming from behind her. She considers turning around for a moment, just to make sure Rachel's all right, but she holds steady.

"Is — is everythin' all right?"

Huge horse teeth in her mouth. Oh man, Kate has no idea how lucky she is that Rachel looks out for her.

She take the map out of her mouth and runs her tongue over her own teeth. That was a weird sensation.

Nose wrinkled, she glances at the map again and nods. "Yeah, fine. You can turn around now."

Well, that's more like the Rachel she knows.

"You're in your drawers."

... Just slightly less covered.

Giving Beaut one last soothing pat, she moves closer to see the paper Rachel carried all this way.

"Does it hurt when y'do that?"

Rachel blinks and looks down at herself. There's nothing especially scandalous about her morphing outfit, other than it being a two piece. Her actual underwear - most girls' underwear, in her age group and time period - would be considerably less.

So Kate gets frowned at for a moment.

"No, it doesn't. It just sounds horrible."

Rachel should be glad Kate knows enough about some future clothing not to be shocked by things like that anymore.

"This — ah, it must'a come outta my pocket. Thank you, I'd of literally been lost without it."

She frowns at the girl.

"I don't know how I'm gonna get you back, though. There ain't exactly a number'a doors 'round here."

Rachel does not have a crafty little smirk at all. She is doing her level best to keep it purely in her mind as she shrugs.

"Don't worry about it. It's not your job to get me back anyway, I knew that when I picked up the map. Besides, I'm supposed to just snap back at some point, I guess."

"That's what I'm worried about. Y'could 'snap back', or y'could also fade away."

Three days. It's all they've got, and Kate's heard of it going either way.

"An' bringin' you t'town like that... You'd either be very popular, or very unpopular, an' I don't think you'd like it either way."

Rachel hasn't even heard that limit - just 'eventually,' she'll go back.

"Why is that worrying?" she asks, frowning a little with her hands on her hips. Her clothes are still in a pile by her feet, but?

It's hot.

Even when Kate's words have her wincing, glancing down at herself again. "It's that bad?"

"Sweetheart, not even a doxie shows their midriff."

She glances at her map, and then at the pile of clothes. Sighing, there's really nothing to be done but let her stay. They'll just have to figure things out as they go along.

"'Fade away' implies not comin' back. Ever. Let's try an' avoid that, all right? What didja bring?"

Blue eyes narrow and Rachel frowns. Her intention was to pick up her clothes and at least get something on before heading into town. Now she's considering staying just as she is, out of spite.

One of the last things she's going to do is admit she doesn't know what a doxie is.

"No, when I 'fade' I just go back to Milliways. That's all."

Or at least, it's what she's been told.

What she brought gets a glance and a little more of a frown. "I didn't 'bring' anything, that's what I was wearing when I found your map. The one you left behind. In the bar."

She softens.

"Thank you. Honestly. It's just that — I'm — "

Not being chased right now, Kate. And even if you were, you've seen the way she fights.

"Jus' wanna make sure you ain't stuck out here with me," she says, going for self-deprecating humor instead. "I meant your clothes, yes. I ain't got a hat, but I got a blouse an' a neckerchief y'could borrow."

The scowl doesn't fade. Stuck out here, it's still better than stuck in there. For now.

"If you're worried about me getting in your way, I can take care of myself. I don't know if you noticed this, but I was a horse."

"I think I remember somethin' like that."

She manages a straight face. Honestly, the only answer to dealing with Rachel is to keep calm, unless it's funnier to mess with her.

"Y'can be a horse, if y'want. There's plenty of desert for you t'run around in without ever runnin' into another body or town. But, if you'd rather, y'can head t'Mineral City with me."

Beat.

"They'll have booze there."

Rachel's still getting used to the lack of fear. And it doesn't help that she avoids people, refuses to adapt to Milliways.

Still thinks in the world she no longer lives in.

Booze isn't much of an enticement.

A city, with a name, really is.

"...is it going to freak out the world if I put my jeans back on?"

She didn't just get pulled over by a talking horse. Kate wishes there was whiskey in her canteen.

"We got denim 'round these parts. I'd call it unusual, but it shouldn't 'freak' anybody out. A t-shirt, on the other hand, might raise some eyebrows."

Oh please, like Rachel hasn't gotten pulled over by a talking horse before. Kate should be lucky she didn't get a grizzly or a tiger.

Rachel keeps her frown as she glances over at her pile of clothing. Somehow, she'd thought jeans would be more spectacular than a regular t-shirt. It doesn't seem as scandalous, somehow.

"...okay. Well... tell me how not to ruin your world, then."

She laughs softly.

"Ruin? Sugar, if y'turn this world on its ear, it's nothin' less than it deserves. Let's see what I've got."

After a few minutes spent fishing through her saddle bags, she comes up with a Somerset blouse and a woman's twill vest. And, barring combustion from one of Rachel's withering looks, she'll hold out a matching skirt and petticoat, too.

She's certainly in danger of it, especially when Rachel doesn't immediately realize what all the items are. And when she does - well.

It's basically dress-up. Perhaps not the most fashionable, for her time or maybe even Kate's, but dress-up.

"I could use a mirror," she points out, holding out her hands for the items. At least they match.

"Lemme jus' reach into my magical bottomless bag an' fetch you one."

She doesn't actually have a magical bottomless bag. That being the case, every inch of space is packed up carefully with the things she needs. A mirror isn't one such thing.

Her lips twitch — she's fairly certain she already knows what the answer to this will be.

"I'm happy t'help, if y'like?"

"I should have asked Bar for one," Rachel replies, frowning as she shakes out the blouse and examines it, critical.

And equally as calm: "Bite me."

It is quite possibly the roughest, cheapest cloth she'll ever have put on her body. But she blundered into someone else's world. If she wants to stay, she better play by the rules.

Even if the rules are low thread count cotton.

Not a synthetic strand to be found in these clothes.

Kate's face practically collapses in on itself. Bite me? What a curious request! She reckons she couldn't have predicted that answer after all.

In an endeavor to translate the two words into something she'd understand, her features shift to contrition.

"I think y'may have misunderstood my meanin'. I meant only t'help in the most friendly-like way possible. Not — I wouldn't, certainly — that is, menfolk are what I..."

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