The young vendor smiled at Jon and pointed to where one of the circle's six roads began. One of its corners had a distinctive pink light coming from its windows. "That road there, two doors down, on the right. They'll fix you right up!"
"Thank you," Alexis said with an exasperated breath. "C'mon." She snatched Jon's arm and tugged. Then she heard the sound of tearing clothing, and the sleeve of Jon's jacket came loose, sending her careening to the ground again. She gave a screech as she braced herself with her hands, then scoffed. She was getting very annoyed at hearing that almost inhuman sound coming from her. Almost as annoyed as she was at constantly getting thrown off balance.
Jon offered her a hand but she smacked it away. "I'm fine." Her sharp tone said otherwise. Regardless, she hobbled to her feet and without haste, started marching toward the pink building.
"You owe me a new jacket," Jon muttered as he caught up to her.
"Oh fuck you. That thing was a write-off after the boat." Alexis glanced at Jon to see him brushing the bare fur on his exposed left forearm. "Are you petting yourself?"
Jon grimaced. "It feels weird having all this hair going a bunch of different directions."
Alexis rolled her eyes and pressed on through the chaotic crowd. It barely seemed like they were making headway. She leaned forward, as if she could will herself to move faster and part the crowd if she lead with her shoulders. After a few seconds, she sensed Jon leaning in near her face. She tried to ignore him but eventually gave up and glanced at him. His face was definitely looking hairy, specifically around the outer edges of his cheeks, but his eyebrows looked thicker as well. His entire neck was covered in fur... at least it seemed that way in the lamplight. Even in shadow, she would have expected bare skin to reflect a little light.
Alexis shot her lurking boyfriend a glare. "What now?"
"You're slouching. It isn't doing your disposition any favors."
"Stop creeping, ass. Nobody asked your opinion."
"Fine," he shrugged. He stepped a little further away to the side, but he didn't retract his head.
"Seriously, stop that. This situation is frustrating enough as it is."
He gave Alexis a confused look. "What? I did."
"Don't be a dick. Stand up straight."
"I am!"
Alexis instantly stopped and turned to Jon, shoving her index finger into his chest. She ignored the fact that it sank into the fabric softly as it was doubtlessly cushioned by a layer of fur beneath. "I'm not fucking kidding. We have enough problems right now. Can you stop with the domineering-but-suave boyfriend bullshit?"
Jon looked very concerned. It was a face Alexis hardly ever saw. She recognized the authenticity of it immediately, but was too high on anger to admit to herself what she was seeing. "Lexi," he said, "I'm being serious. I'm not trying to rile you up. Please tell me, what's the problem?"
She took a more analytical look at Jon, who was still leaning toward her. Except, she realized, it wasn't so much a lean as it was a slight hunch. "Straighten your back," she ordered.
Jon pulled his head back slightly, but did not straighten up. "There. Happy?"
"Why are you still slouching?"
Now Jon tilted his head. "Why are you?"
"I'm not!" Alexis snapped, before realizing that she actually was. She could feel her spine crooking forward a little. She pulled her shoulders back and tried to raise her neck, but could tell that it wasn't fully working. It was like her body wasn't built to stand straight anymore. "The fuck...?"
"It's getting worse, I know," Jon said in a calmer tone. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Let's keep going."
"Oo-oo-okay," she said with a quiver. She hated how comforting his hand felt in that moment. Jon wasn't someone she wanted to rely on in a time of distress. She trusted her own judgment more than his. But things were becoming so unfamiliar, it was hard to keep her mind level. Part of her wanted to stay cool and work on a solution to this mess. Part of her wanted to stop and examine what changes her body had gone through. And a growing part of her was getting exhausted with all the worrying and thinking and just wanted to scream.
The pair resumed their push through the crowd toward the pink glow. Finally, they reached the place with the pink lights and noticed that, unlike most of the other buildings, the doors were shut and nobody was going in or out of the place. A buff man with a mullet and wearing a suit stood next to the door, hands folded.
"What is that place?" Jon asked.
Alexis pinched her brow. "Who cares? Two doors down, the guy said." They passed the building and went up the street, through more crowds, although these weren't so much the reveling party type, but the milling-around-on-a-Saturday type. They walked past a large window with some brazenly displayed sex toys.
"Well, they call it Pleasure Island," Jon shrugged his now odd-looking shoulders.
When her eyes fell on a large and elaborately textured toy, an errant thought jogged through Alexis' mind. A disturbingly enjoyable thought. She scratched her head and forced herself to look forward, continuing down the lane.
The next building was a similar shop. It had mannequins in the display windows wearing various outfits, from the tasteful to the borderline obscene... one had a normal, if oddly colored, three-piece suit, while one standing right next to it was decked out in belts, a gimp mask and stirrups.
"This is..." Alexis looked around. "This is the second on the right. ... Right?" She counted on her fuzzy fingers while looking back the way they came. One... three... no, one... two... Those fucking outfits were distracting.
Jon grabbed his head and shouted up into the night sky. "Uuuuoooughhh! What are we supposed to do here?!"
"Get some replacements for those rags, perhap!" a woman called out. Alexis spun around to see a woman with long, black curly hair leaning in the doorway of the shop. "Your appearance has recently changed, this one would guess."
Alexis sized her up. She was lavishly dressed, in a flowing multi-layered dress and a loose, wide-necked white top that looked like something from the Middle Ages. "Uh... yes. And--"
"And you want someone to fix you up," she smiled. "C'mon inside, dears."