wiedzminka | ❧ IC INBOX: Abraxas

[ 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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