> Une autre transformation d'anniversaire > by The Blue EM2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Hat Store Shenanigans... > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Does anybody remember what happened this very day one year ago? I imagine many of you do remember what happened this day one year ago, as today one year ago was the day that Jimmy Hook (the two always go together) turned 23. That wasn't the only thing that turned, as he can testify. Being dumped into the body of a Changeling Queen is hardly the most entertaining of experiences for everybody, so he took the situation oddly well in that regard of regardingness. But now it was a year later. An entire 365 days of things had happened, and the world was a very different place. This year, for instance, the world was still locked down and unable to travel about the world. This meant that Jimmy's friends could not travel over to celebrate with him, and he was stuck in his home for who knows how long. Until the signs changed? Until the sun fell into the sea? It was all frustratingly unclear, especially given the upsurge in coronavirus cases around Memorial Day that had forced the R number back up. Jimmy sighed sadly as he sat in his chair. He was sad, and bored. Maybe a skype or zoom call would help cheer him up, but as he went to his PC (most certainly not his OC) to get the call lined up, a flyer suddenly came through the door. "What's this?" he asked. He read the flyer (whilst standing up and looking at it, as he didn't want to risk infection from plague mail), but it was in some foreign language he didn't really understand. He had never been massively good with languages in school, which was now awkward. "It's something to do with hats," he said, and got up and looked at his hat stand. He had a few hats, but many of them were now old and wearing out (and barely fitted onto that giant mop of hair he had anyways). Tom had many hats, but Jimmy considered whether he himself needed a haircut to allow most headgear to fit. So, he decided to give it a shot. As barbers were not yet open, he settled upon going to the local hat store and finding something new. As he walked through his door, resulting in a massive repair bill he really could do without, he went off down the street, demolishing fences and flattening lawns. And as he went on his way, he seemed to forget that he had had a run in with weirdness at this place before. The hat store was unseasonably busy, packed to the brim with people. An absolute nightmare for crowd control, but many people seemingly didn't care about the virus. Not least the proprietor, who was nowhere to be seen. Jimmy entered through the door, having left a trail of destruction behind him, and shook his head. "Six foot separation distance, people!" he called. "Do you want to catch the virus?" "We can't escape death," said another person. "All we can do is enjoy the lives we have." Jimmy sighed. "Maybe you should apply for Totally Withdraw All Treatment," he muttered, and went on his way. There was one section of the store that matched with the advertisement he had got, labelled chapeaux de France. "Sounds good!" he said, and took a close look. Bastille Day had been a few days earlier, and they had some leftover French items to sell (he'd scored some good brioche that way, and some baguette too). As he looked through the items, he suddenly saw something he liked the look of. It was a green beret (ha ha), sitting on top of a stack. He picked it up and looked closely at it, before pulling the had onto his head and checking it fitted in place. "Fits well." He then felt something a little off around his foot area, and he quickly looked down. His socks stayed as normal, but his boots were starting to do weird things. Why he had worn hiking boots was a mystery, but the boots suddenly covered over and became closer to something a woman would wear, with laces, frontplate, and other bits either attaching together or vanishing into the ether. The top part turned a sickly green, and the base turned black as a heel pushed out of both of them, changing his centre of gravity. Next, his socks grew up his legs and up into his shorts, stopping next to his undearwear. They merged at the top into a pair of tights, and the legs suddenly gained several holes, as if a mouse had gotten to work on them. Leaving him no time to react, the legs of his cream shorts merged into a skirt, with the zip and button vanishing and being replaced by elastic to hold it on. The garment grew slightly longer, but changed colour. It was turquoise around his waist, but the colour gradually shifted to green the further down it went. He retained his polo shirt, but the bulk of it turned dark green, with the exception of the shoulders, collar, and sleeves. As it grew in size in the chest area in anticipation of what was to come, a pair of rings appeared on his left arm, followed by his glasses changing to half rimmed ones with dark gunmetal frames and green lenses. It seemed to have stopped. Jimmy looked at himself in surprise. "C'est terrible! Je ressemble à une sorte de travesti ... Je parle français?" ("This is terrible! I look like some sort of cross dresser...I speak French?") Suddenly, it started up again as he looked in confusion, as his skin turned a dark grey, followed by his eyebrows turning black and his hair somehow growing even longer than it already was, turning a rather odd shade of blue as it did so, all the while still hanging under the beret. His eyes turned turquoise, followed not long after by his ears gaining ear rings and reducing in size slightly. His shoulders contracted inwards, and it was a good thing the shirt had gained extra fabric, as the front began to fill up with Jimmy's currently expanding chest, both nipples growing into a pair of breasts (held in place by something else). His hips widened and his legs slimmed down, followed not long after that by his manhood vanishing to elsewhere. Her shrunken feet were matched by the now smaller boots she had on her feet. It was also complemented by all the stares she was getting. "Sacre bleu! Cette situation ne pouvait pas être pire. Non seulement je suis une Chrysalide, mais je semble être une Chrysalide française!" ("Sacre bleu! This situation couldn't be worse. Not only am I Chrysalis, I seem to be a French Chrysalis!") Chrysalis should've known better than to tempt fate, as moments later a warp portal opened below her and she fell through. "Où va ce tunnel? Cette journée ne fait qu'empirer et empirer!" ("Where does this tunnel go? This day keeps getting worser and worse!") Chrysalis fell through a kaleidoscope of light and sound before she hit a street in a city. There was a river before her, and a metro train rattled over a nearby bridge. "Je pense que je sais où je suis! C'est la Tour Eiffel là-bas! Et le Louvre!" ("I think I know where I am! That's the Eiffel Tower over there! And the Louvre!") Chrysalis was very happy to be back in her home city, and then remembered she had an appointment at the Cheval D'or, the finest cafe in all of town. She set off down the side of the Seine, her skirt billowing gently in the breeze. She had the look of a Beatnik to her, a look she honestly liked. So, on her way she went, the hot weather apparently not having much of an affect on her. Everybody was happy. After all, Bastille Day had been a few days earlier. She arrived at her destination and took her seat. Her contact, a Mr Thorax, was already waiting for her. "Bonjour, Chrysalis! J'espère que votre voyage depuis Marseille n'était pas trop mal," the big green man greeted. ("Good afternoon, Chrysalis! I hope your journey up from Marseilles wasn't too bad.") "Le TGV est le seul moyen de voyager. Je n'ai jamais aimé les compagnies aériennes à bas prix," Chrysalis replied. ("TGV is the only way to travel. I've never liked the cheap short haul airlines.") "Maintenant, que dois-je avoir aujourd'hui?" ("Now then, what shall I have today?") "Selon le serveur, ils ont une belle sélection de vins. Peut-être un de ceux-là?" ("According to the waiter, they have a fine selection of wines. Maybe one of those?") "Dans cette chaleur? Ne sois pas stupide." ("In this heat? Don't be silly.") Chrysalis had very specific tastes for specific weather, and knew what she was about. And so another day in the City of Lights continued.