wiedzminka | ❧ IC INBOX: Abraxas

It isn't. They're a completely different species. [ She doesn't have any context for the rest of what Julie is saying, haven't never heard the word "Chinese" before in her life, but it's not too important. The idea is Julie has some context for a dragon (itty bitty legs, though?) so even if they're just stories where she's from, they can communicate well enough. About monsters. It's the little things.

Ciri's here to discuss costumes, though, not compare bestiaries. She follows along, peering at the garment Julie's showing off now, including the antler accessories and all. She laughs, clapping her hands once in front of her. ]

How cute! Can I see you wear it? I want to try on the vampire one.

Sounds like splittin' hairs, if you ask me. [ Not that anyone did or ever should, particularly when the subject is dragons. She will eventually show Ciri a Chinese dragon though, because they're cool.

Julie beams at her and nods, lying the costume out before she slides the antlers on her head. She then does not hesitate at all to just strip out of her dress (which, in fairness, revealed basically everything anyway) and let it fall to the floor with a soft clink. She answers as she begins to wiggle her way into her bodysuit. ]

Oh definitely, you're gonna look amazin'. And you gotta let me do your makeup!

[ Considering baths and swimming are usually done in public and with others where she's from, obviously sans clothes, Ciri doesn't even bat an eye as Julie strips to change. She's seen plenty of semi- and fully-naked women (though she'd admit, Julie is certainly a shapely one).

That brilliant smile is contagious, and Ciri immediately smiles back. ]

You think so? And-- oh, my makeup? All right, if you'd like to. Thanks.

[ Ciri ducks away only briefly to go back for the costume she'd chosen, following suit. The clothing is a bit strange to her, but she figures it's easy enough to tell where to put her arms and legs go. The material is still... a mystery. ]

Say... what is this made out of, anyway? It's not any leather I've seen. Or smelled.

[ It also takes her a minute to figure out how the fuck to unclasp the bodice part. This woman has never seen a zipper before. But she tugs, and it comes undone, and it's self-explanatory from there.

She doesn't realize it, but the pleather goes on a lot easier in the Horizon than it would in the real world, mostly because she doesn't expect it to cling and stick the way it should. She's not wriggling or hopping around nearly as much as the tight, shiny material probably warrants. Ciri slides the trousers up her legs -- strong and leanly-muscled, as covered in scars as her arms, and there's a flash of something colorful tattooed on her inner thigh before it's hidden -- and then tries to figure out how to get the top on. ]

Do I think so? Girl, look at yourself in the mirror. If you lived where I come from, you'd be rich just from postin' selfies. That's when you take a picture of yourself.

[ Julie pulls on spike-heeled black ankle boots, which she then goes to look at in the mirror, still trying to decide if she want to wear them with this costume. She goes over to help Ciri after a moment, adjusting the collar and helping her find the right holes for the arms. ]

This is called pleather. It's like an artificial version of leather. It's cheaper and a lotta people care about not killing animals for their skin. I ain't one of them, but pleather has some other good stuff. It's usually shinier, which is good for a look like this.

[ Good thing Julie explains. Even if it only sort of makes sense. It honestly doesn't matter what the details mean because she takes Julie's point -- and blushes, looking away suddenly flustered as Julie approaches to help her into the attached bodice. It's tight, but not structured, clinging but not constricting. Actually, it's quite comfortable. ]

That's sweet of you to say.

[ It makes her self-conscious, but also... a bit happy. ]

Pleather...? What's the "p" for?

[ Artificial leather sounds so strange to her. As does the sentiment Julie describes. It does remind her a little of how Julie was unwilling to unmake her Horizon constructs. It speaks of a world far less used to death than her own. ]

It does look nice. And it's lighter, too.

It's the truth. I don't lie about who looks good, you know.

[ Just say the word, and Julie will manifest Instagram for you, Ciri. Think of the filters!

Straightening out the cape, Julie plunks the shoes down in front of Ciri, reaching her hand out to help balance if needed. She's starting to get the vibe that heels might be pretty new for Ciri too. But she will learn. Oh, she will learn. ]

The "p"'s for plastic. You can make basically anything out of plastic, and it doesn't cost a lot, so it's used in pretty much everything. And you don't have to keep thousands of cows to get the skins. Besides, it's thinner so it's easier to dance in.

What do you think?

[ Ciri has... no idea what to do with such sincerity for no apparent reason. Or the way it makes her face feel hot and her heartbeat flutter, confused. It's not like Julie has any need to want anything from her or flatter her. And she doesn't seem put off by the scars. Nor does she seem to be saying any of this with an amorous motive. She's just bright and cheerful and eager to show Ciri this little piece of her world.

And it's so charming and kind, it actually makes Ciri's throat feel a little tight. ]

I don't know what plastic is, but if it's cheaper and easier to make clothing with it and doesn't cost the famers their livestock, that's certainly a clever solution.

[ But Julie is probably asking more about the costume. Ciri's balance is excellent, but she takes the other woman's hand even so, letting herself be helped into the ridiculously tall shoes. They force her to walk on the balls of her feet, and Ciri briefly considers these contraptions might be useful for rigorous balance training. But they are apparently for dancing.

Still holding Julie's hand, she takes a few steps toward the mirror, not nearly as wobbly as someone who's never worn high heels might otherwise be. Her steps are light as a ballerina's, her body instantly compensating for the change in posture to keep her light on her toes. The flush still brightens her cheeks, green eyes wide as she stares at herself in the full-length mirror. Between the sleek black of the shiny pleather and the tiptoe-shoes adding a good five inches of height, she's got legs for days. ]

It- it looks good.

[ She sounds. A bit shocked. ]

[ Julie is, underneath it all, eager to make connections with people. Oh, sure, she's a heinous bitch to people she deems beneath herself, but she's finding those people fewer and further between now. Life gets a little more bearable when you find yourself resurrected from the dead. Besides, she really has been longing for a real girlfriend since she got to hang out with that spy Dayna. All the lying and blasphemous subterfuge aside, it had been nice to hang out and connect with another woman.

It reminds her of the friends she had before the world fell apart, how they used to get ready to go out on Saturday nights together, how they would go out to late night diners while still drunk and 80 miles from home. The only part of her old life that she ever really enjoyed.

Giggling, Julie releases Ciri's hand and goes to the table filled with jewelry; she looks over the drawers for a moment before having a thought and manifesting something totally different. Thanks, Pinterest, for creating an endless repository of covetable items in Julie's brain. Coming back, she drapes a pearl necklace around Ciri's neck, reaching up to fasten it -- even in her own heels, she's nearly half a foot shorter than Ciri. ]

Of course it does. Honey, even if you didn't look like a supermodel on your own, I wouldn't let you put on anythin' that would look bad. But this is it, if I do say so myself.

[ Once again, Ciri doesn't really have the context to understand what supermodel means, and she finds Julie's terms of endearment a little odd, but-- she doesn't need to have the full meaning of each word to understand the sentiment. Or appreciate it.

Ciri fidgets slightly, subconsciously twitching her fingers over her bangs, sliding a few strands of hair in place over her cheek to obscure the pink, puckered line of the scar on habit. Her other hand reaches back when she realizes what Julie is doing, pulling her messy bun higher off the nape of her neck, allowing the pearls to be clasped around her throat. It's a very clever and interesting design, the rubies spilling across her collar bone and the top of her breast like glittering drops of blood. Ciri stares at it. For a princess, she is not particularly used to feeling pretty.

She licks her lips, heart racing, feeling a little out of sorts.

But-- it's a costume. And suddenly, she thinks of a way to complete it. It's just for fun.

This time, when she grins back at Julie, she's got pointed little fangs to complete the ensemble. ]

You were right. This is fun. Thank you, Julie.

[ Julie doesn't really register any confusion from those so far behind herself, culturally. She has learned to quickly explain technological things, or very specific references, but it's difficult to change the way you've always expressed yourself, and Julie is a pop culture fiend. Frankly, everyone is lucky that she hasn't forced them into learning TikTok dances.

Smiling at Ciri in the mirror, Julie pats her elbow as if to say See, look at you. Then Ciri shows her the fangs, and she laughs and claps, delighted. ] Oh, doll, you don't hafta thank me! I love doin' makeovers.

Now hold on a minute. [ She holds up one finger, then jogs off, only to return a few moments later with arms and hands full -- palettes and lipsticks and brushes, all manner of cosmetics. Sitting crossed-legged in front of the mirror, she puts it all down and pats the floor, signaling for Ciri to sit too. ] You need the makeup too, or you'll only look half-done.

[ Julie's exuberance is... adorable. Ciri doesn't even find it annoying she keeps calling her weird things like "doll" and "honey" when they've only just met. Something about the way she says it. Maybe her odd accent, too. She's from a very different place and culture, obviously, and it's clear none of it is meant to be offensive or belittling. It's kind of nice, honestly, how immediately Julie has warmed up to her, invited her over, welcomed her so graciously into her domain to show Ciri all these little parts of her own world.

So Ciri only smiles and nods, and waits patiently. When she's bidden to sit down, she folds her legs and sits, eyeing the boxes and brushes curiously. ]

I think if you can show me how it looks in the end, I can recreate it myself before the party. I don't have all these... things. But in the Horizon, a thought is enough.

[ She has never much been a woman who understood the need to do a weird dance of gradual closeness -- what's the point? If you want to be friends with someone, be friends. If you want to fuck them, fuck them. And if their first impression made you want to fight them, well, then break their fucking nose. Arbitrary timelines and artificial distance in the name of taking it slow is just nonsense dictated by people who are more afraid of being hurt than caring of what they might gain by connecting.

Julie sets everything in an array between them, opening several of the palettes before coating a brush in crimson shadow and leaning forward to begin sweeping it over Ciri's eyelids. ]

Oh, sure, but learning how to do it is the part that's best. It's like art, and it's somethin' you're doin' just for yourself. It's like the Horizon except real, makin' the thing in your head come true.

[ Ciri closes her eyes obediently when Julie starts brushing colors on her lids, not quite sure what the end result will be but eager to find out. ]

Why, yes... that's true. It's a sort of magic all its own. I know what you mean. I always admired the way some women can use lip paints and rouge and enhance their beauty with a few simple strokes of a brush. I admit I like to play at it sometimes.

[ She laughs, a little self-conscious, like admitting she actually likes makeup is weird. ]

That's the great thing about it. You can put on the outside whatever you feel on the inside. You can change how your whole face looks just by knowin' the right place to put the right color. Some men say it's like tellin' a lie, to do that, but it ain't for them anyway. I'll be damned if some man thinks he's gonna tell me how sparkly my face is allowed to be.

[ Julie has spent many hours of her life learning how to do makeup, and the way she delicately begins to blend out eyeshadow in red and white and black. There's a sense of purpose in how she switches between brushes, dabs glitter in the corners of Ciri's eyes to make them wider and shinier.

She eventually switches to a larger brush and shifts to Ciri's cheeks, creating the appearance of even sharper cheekbones with dark, severe blush, like she's carving the shape into Ciri's skin. ]

I can teach you, if you want.

[ Ciri's trying to keep from laughing so it doesn't ruin whatever Julie's doing to her face, but she smirks, pleased with that assessment. Fuck what men have to say about a woman's appearance -- unless the woman is doing it specifically to get something from some idiot because that's definitely one use of makeup Ciri is familiar with. ]

Men are stupid. [ she agrees wholeheartedly, letting out the laugh at last when Julie moves away to grab another brush or color. ]

Oh... yes, I would like that. I'm not used to it looking the way your supplies do, but I'm sure I can find something similar in the city. I have a small brush and charcoal liner already.

[ Using her looks to get what she wants is kind of Julie's bread and butter; Ciri will, at some point, meet Julie's idiot, who she initially snared because he was powerful, and who she keeps because she's afraid to be alone. He also worships her -- she would never bother stringing him along if he were any trouble. But he's good people all the same, for the most part. ]

Men are only good for a handful of things, and we already got substitutes for about half of 'em. Even the amazing ones do stupid shit all the time. [ See examples: continuously choosing the wrong disciples, combining insane people with nuclear warfare, not just fucking killing spies instead of turning them into a spectacle. ] They should just be thankful we ain't figured out how to breed without 'em.

[ She waits for Ciri to finish speaking, then leans in to begin painting her lips dark burgundy, carefully defining the cupid's bow, the corners. Satisfied, she sits back and offers Ciri an ornate hand mirror to examine herself. ]

So, whatcha think?

Oh, definitely. [ Ciri snorts, eyebrows rising in amusement, but she tries to hold still for Julie's brushes as well as she can. She opens or closes her eyes as bidden, looking up or down in some mysterious pattern whenever Julie asks her.

Ciri is a very good model; she's not twitchy and doesn't startle even with her eyes closed, though it's also clear she's not used to having someone else do her makeup. The lip paint is next, apparently. Ciri keeps her eyes open for it, eyeing the color uncertainly. It looks very striking. It's all... a lot more than she would ever put on her face, though it's less because she thinks it's bad objectively and more that she's not confident she could pull it off. Not the way a woman like Yennefer could.

When Julie hands her the mirror, Ciri takes a tentative look in it and gasps. ]

It's... It makes me look so different. Isn't it too...?

[ She trails off. Too what, exactly? Colorful? Intense? Too pretty or too sexy? But she turns her head this way and that in the mirror, feeling her cheeks heating up beneath the layer of powder. ]

Oh, no. It's perfect. Remember, this is the night you ain't gonna be yourself -- you're a sexy vampire. You're gonna find someone, get 'em all hot for you, and then suck 'em dry. [ She does not specify which meaning she is using.

She crawls on her knees to kneel behind Ciri, looking over her shoulder and meeting her eyes in the mirror. ] I can do an everyday look for you later, but this is Halloween. Now, you look at yourself and make yourself believe that you're the baddest vampire bitch of all and you're gonna do whatever the fuck you want.

[ Vampires are not inherently sexy in Ciri's world, but she takes Julie's meaning. The whole point of all these ridiculously tight and/or revealing costumes, even if they are based on monsters and, for some reason, certain professions. Is it supposed to be seductive? Not necessarily for someone else's sake, but the idea of just feeling like she could embody this idea of someone effortlessly beautiful and confident-- not quite like a sorceress, but maybe along those lines. Like the way Yennefer always turns heads the moment she walks into a room, her beauty a weapon as sharp as Ciri's sword, commanding attention and awe.

--but that's not her. That's not Ciri.

Julie's gaze meets her eyes in the mirror. Against the dark makeup, they're startlingly bright, a green so vivid it looks almost eerie. For a moment, she stares, from Julie behind her to her own unfamiliar-looking face in the mirror.

Find someone, get them all hot for you--

Ciri blinks and looks away, setting the mirror aside. Her heart is beating very fast. ]

I don't know about all that.

But thank you. For the costume and the face paints, and explaining your traditions. You've been very kind.

[ Julie's not sure what's happened here, doesn't understand Ciri's sudden shift. She doesn't particularly like such abrupt switches in mood; they remind her of terrible things, and it makes her want to lash out, fight it away.

She doesn't.

Instead, she just cocks her head and allows it to go, and when Ciri looks back up at her, the deer costume is gone. She's in the gold dress again, just sort of curiously watching. ]

You all right?

[ It's all a lot to think about, for Ciri. She's not used to seeing herself like this, thinking about how she might be desirable-- in a way that she also desires, in a way that makes her feel confident and attractive, not disgusted and small.

When she turns back to Julie, she is smiling again, faintly, a little uncertain but not unhappy. ]

Yes. You've earned my admiration, Julie Lawry. It takes strength of character to command such confidence so easily.

You've given me some things to think about.

[ Since Julie has changed back -- easy as a thought -- Ciri follows her lead. She'll come back for the borrowed items before the party, but for now, she's back to just being... Ciri. Even in the Horizon, her clothes are always a little worn, a little dusty. It happens naturally. She travels a lot.

She could conjure up anything at all, fine silks and jewels aplenty, clothing fit for her birthright, but she doesn't. And she won't. That is not who she is, or has wanted to be for a long time now (Witcher girl, they called her, derogatory and scornful; it is the least of any insult for her). Instead, she manifests her false Wolf School medallion. And the silver dagger Geralt gave her, replicated on her belt just as it is in the real world, with its snarling wolf's head on the pommel, where she rests her hand automatically in subconscious reassurance to stay her scattering thoughts. ]

Thank you for your hospitality.

[ Julie rises to her feet, still bare, and offers her hands to Ciri to pull her up too. There's still an element of uncertainty in her face, a wariness of sudden change even when it's just about something as small as a slutty Halloween costume.

Such swift mood swings herald calamity, she has learned. Or far, far worse.

Crossing the room to the door, she walks slow to let Ciri follow her, to not make it seem as though she's trying to rush her out. Julie's mother may have raised a manipulative brat, but she's a manipulative brat with decent manners to houseguests. ]

It's nothin', hon. I'm real glad you came, I had a great time. You can come back whenever you want. Even if I'm not here, you can always have a drink.

[ For her part, Ciri doesn't feel rushed out. She's taken up enough of Julie's time, and Julie has been nothing but kind and welcoming, patient in explaining and enthusiastic about sharing her world's culture. Ciri genuinely appreciates it.

She beams, all traces of that uncertainty gone now, as she stops at the doorway to say goodbye. ]

I had a great time too! I'm looking forward to the festival. See you soon, Julie!

❧ IC INBOX: Abraxas

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oh my god i'm screaming JULIE NO

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