Sandy Jameson (hearseverything) wrote in commandhq, @ 2018-06-01 17:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | kathryn dalley, p: lindsey, p: mena, sandy jameson |
Who: Sandy Jameson & Kathryn Dalley
What: Make Up Lessons
When: May 30th
Where: Communal bathroom, Rachel's floor
Rating: Low
Sandy frowned at her reflection for the tenth time and then lifted the make up wipes, rubbing viciously at her face. Around her, in some kind of makeup graveyard, were tubes of mascara, eyeliner pencils, foundation, eyeshadow, lipstick and gloss and around them in a bizarre sacrifice was dozens of makeup wipes where she’d rubbed them across her face, taking off her attempts at make up over and over again.
She was just messing up and all she wanted was to try. Her conversation with Cassidy had thrown her for a loop, he’d called her beautiful and she knew that wasn’t the truth, but it had made her think that maybe she did want someone to look at her like that, that maybe she wanted someone to think she was pretty. She saw the other women in the facility all the time looking like they’d stepped off the cover of a magazine and she knew that she’d never be able to compete with that, and who would want to be with someone who read their mind all the time by accident anyway? She knew that she wasn’t… dateable. That she wasn’t that kind of material and Cassidy was just confused.
That had to be it. That had to be. Because they were family and she didn’t feel that way about him. She didn’t want to even though he wanted her to. He wanted her to feel the same way, and he wanted to kiss her and she didn’t want that. But it made her feel so guilty, that she didn’t feel that way, because he did and she didn’t. And that… that was her fault?
She threw the mascara at the mirror in frustration and it bounced off and then onto the floor with a plop, rolling toward the door. It was followed a split second later by a makeup wipe.
“This is so stupid.”
---
Although on her way to Grey’s bedroom, Kathryn came to a halt outside the communal bathroom. She didn’t have to use it, but it was uncommon for her to pass an opportunity to check her appearance in the mirror and do some quick work before resuming whatever she’d been up to before.
Kathryn emerged into the bathroom to watch a blonde-haired girl with dull, pink ends throwing a tube of mascara at the mirror in frustration. Surrounding the sink was a Sephora dumping ground of products, brushes and stained makeup wipes that would make any seasoned artist weep at the waste.
Her first, and most prominent instinct was to turn right back around and get out of that bathroom. The girl was such a mess and creating such a mess that Kathryn naturally wanted nothing to do with any of it.
Then she noticed the tube of mascara and makeup wipe right under her heel and sighed.
She could not, in any good conscience, allow this to continue.
“Okay, first of all, stop everything you’re doing,” Kathryn bent over and picked up the mascara and approached the counter. “This may only be Maybelline, but it deserves more respect than you’re showing it. This stuff and your bathroom deserves better right now.”
---
Sandy visibly bristled at the order, feeling the prickles of her more aggressive personality rising in response to the stranger’s words. Only she wasn’t a stranger, Sandy recognised her face from the time she was in Grey’s head; Kathryn. She knew the face, but she hadn’t ever spoken to her before. And now here she was throwing makeup at her, the first time properly meeting going spectacularly well.
“What’s wrong with it?” she asked, referencing the Maybelline comment; she didn’t know anything about make up outside what she found in some of the old magazines that were lying around, and she’d been trying to recreate that stuff, along with trying to use the guidelines on the eyeshadow she’d purchased. “Can’t show respect for it if it- I mean, it’s stupid,” she settled on, frustration clear on her face.
But to her credit, she did start picking up the dirtied wipes and balling them together, throwing them in the bin. It wasn’t like she’d missed that Kat had impeccable makeup, she was absolutely beautiful. Sandy sort of hated her a little bit.
---
“What’s wrong with it is that it’s Maybelline,” Kathryn scoffed, as though something about that was common knowledge. Though, to girls from her high school – that was essentially quite true. “And it’s not stupid. It’s a tool; it’s neutral. You just don’t know what you’re doing.” There was no point in sugar-coating or anything like that, not that Kathryn was particularly good at that to begin with.
As Sandy began balling up her used makeup wipes, Kathryn scoffed again and stepped up to the mirror to admire her own reflection. She smoothed down her dark curls, trying to tame a bit of the frizz.
She cast a sideways glance at Sandy again and felt a sudden lash of familiarity with the girl—they had never spoken and Kathryn didn’t owe her anything, but there was something about Sandy that reminded her, however slightly, of Clara. Just a lot surlier.
“Has anyone ever showed you how to use this stuff?”
---
Sandy pressed her teeth together again, thinking about her own responses to conflict - or perceived conflict. She didn’t know Kat, not really, other than through Grey, so whatever she was saying might not be the direct attack it felt like, and if Sandy responded like it was an attack she’d never get anywhere. Especially since everyone else seemed to be making friends; Cal was on the network talking to people, Cassidy had others. Frankie was talking to people on the network too… Tammy… was Tammy. Scotty was doing his own thing too and she- she wasn’t, not really. She’d pulled away from everyone else that hadn’t been part of their group and she wondered why she’d done that now.
She chewed the inside of her lower lip and twisted her fingers together as she shook her head. “No, I- I saw some pictures in a magazine,” she admitted, cheeks burning. “I’ve never worn it before.”
---
I’ve never worn it before.
Kathryn’s eyebrows raised high into her forehead and she turned her neck to regard Sandy somewhat skeptically. Though, given the hot mess around the blonde-and-pink-haired girl, and the way her cheeks were suddenly burning red, Kathryn figured she should probably take the statement seriously.
“God, okay,” Kathryn gave herself one last look-over in the mirror before she spun towards Sandy. “First of all, trying to copy the look in a magazine? Rookie mistake, but we all do it. That’s how we learn not to pile on blue eyeshadow, since it’s not 1972. Right, look,” without asking permission, Kathryn began swatting at some of the products in on the counter, trying to find something to get Sandy working on the basics.
“You’ve got some good stuff here, but no wonder you’re frustrated. If you want to learn to use this stuff, you have to work in sections. Primer, eyebrows, eyes, liner, skin, contour—it’ll make the big picture seem less daunting. If you finish wiping off your face, I’ll show you.”
---
Sandy did as she was told, in equal parts curious and eager to learn more as she was intimidated by Kat. After the final wipe came off clean, Sandy stood in front of the other agent, baby-faced and wide eyed.
She was trying this whole...approaching things differently and it was hard, she could feel herself bristling a little but Kat seemed like she was at least willing to help and she wasn’t being too mean about it. Sandy could work with that.
“And… do you do all that too?” She asked, looking at the makeup and then at Kat. It was so tempting to reach into the other girl’s mind and get to know her better but she wanted to try this… friend thing the right way. Besides, Kat’s mind had the air of another telepath around it, like Grey’s did. “How long does it take to learn?”
—-
Kathryn cocked her head to the side and stared incredulously when Sandy asked if those were all the things that she herself did with makeup. Wasn’t it obvious? “I’m naturally very pretty, but honey, don’t let the final result fool you – this is an hour of hard labour in front of a mirror every morning.”
She shrugged. “I dunno. Started playing with makeup when I was, like, twelve or something? Didn’t get really good at it until I was sixteen, and after that I didn’t exactly have access to my Rouge Member card.”
Sandy’s face was fresh and clean which, at least, gave Kathryn something of a blank canvas to work on.
With gloved fingers, she flicked through some of the products until she found a double-ended tool with a comb and thin-sketch brush. “It’s easiest if you start with your brows—though, honestly, if you’re going to insist at keeping at this, you’re going to need to have yours plucked and tidied.” But Kathryn did what she could, brushing the fine hairs and then filling the brows out with a powder that dramatized the shape and colour of Sandy’s natural eyebrows.
“What’s your name, anyway?”
---
“It looks effortless,” Sandy praised, hoping that maybe she’d be able to look like that. If she did, maybe other people would look at her like she was pretty, and not just an angry ball of hate that did nothing but cause trouble.
She chewed her lower lip, tipping her head up as Kat started on her eyebrows, though she did scrunch them up. “What’s wrong with my eyebrows?” She asked, “I didn’t- I mean, is it fixable?”
Though the sound of plucking anything, let alone on her face was sort of unappealing.
“Sandy,” she said, tugging at her ear, trying not to fidget too much. “And you’re Kathryn, right? Grey’s Kathryn?”
—-
“Honey, that’s the point.” Of course, Kathryn still smirked at herself in the mirror and flicked her hair, pleased and preening at the compliment. Nobody would ever be able to claim with a straight face that she was beyond shallow vanity.
She scoffed. “It’s fixable, it’s just going to take some work. And don’t scrunch your face—unless you want me to mess this up.”
Kathryn couldn’t fathom why this girl was suddenly demonstrating such concern in her appearance or why she’d loaded up on products she had no clue how to use.
When Sandy correctly guessed who she was, Kathryn rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s me,” she sighed. “Let me guess—telepath?” After years of Victor, it was difficult not to pick up on the cues. “You’re friends with Grey, huh?”
Kathryn set the brush down and directed Sandy to look into the mirror. “See how they pop? It might look a little weird now, but you’ll get used to them and then you’ll hate it when they’re not filled in.”
---
“How much work?” Sandy asked, eyes moving from Kat to herself in the mirror, leaning forward and staring at herself. They looked weird. She didn’t touch them, though her hand did lift in a move to poke at herself she refrained and instead placed both on the sink, using it as leverage to lean forward.
She huffed out a breath again. “Telepath, but I’ve not gone in your head,” she explained quickly. “I- I’m trying this new thing where I use words. Because it’s not- people don’t like-” she waved a hand. She was friends with Vic, she knew what it was like to know a telepath. “I like Grey a lot, she’s on my team. When Cal got put in solitary,” and that still stung, the memory making her wrinkle her nose, “she helped me quieten down the world to something that was a little less noisy.”
The urge to poke her eyebrows came back and she stared at herself once more before she did just that. Nope, still her face. “Does it look less weird when you get used to it?” she asked, lifting up the brush that Kat had used and turning it over in her fingers. “Will it look the same when they get fixed up?”
She tilted her head, having picked up on the idly curious thought about why she was caring about her appearance now and her cheeks flushed a little. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she worried at her lower lip.
“Is it always just gonna be like that?” she asked, “Making them look like a different shape?”
---
“It’s not like I can quantify it,” she said tersely. “It’ll just take me, some tweezers and some clippers a few minutes. Since you don’t have any of that yet, we’ll just have to make due.”
Kathryn folded her arms over her chest and watched Sandy as she regarded herself in the mirror, clearly finding even the slight difference in her appearance somewhat alien.
Just wait until she got a load of it when Kathryn was done.
“Well, I appreciate it. I don’t much care for it when people get in my head.” Or under her skin, for that matter. She smirked at Sandy’s story—that Grey had been helpful, protective, even. “Of course you like Grey. She’s incredible.”
An actual, genuine smile flickered across Kathryn’s face when Sandy poked at her eyebrows, curious whether or not it would ever look natural. She gently swatted Sandy’s hand away from her face. “You’ll get used to it. Don’t touch your face when you’ve got makeup applied, especially if it’s the cheaper-end stuff. You’ll smudge it.”
She shrugged. “If you ever want them shaped, that will help. You won’t feel like you’re trying to stencil your brows on. You’ll just use the natural outline. If you want me to shape them sometime, I will.”
Kathryn huffed and put her hands on her hips. “So. Do you want me to do the rest of your face or not?”
---
Grey was incredible. Sandy had spoken to her a few times since then, made sure that she let the other agent know that she’d appreciated her help. And hearing someone sort of thank her for staying out of their head was novel; she liked it. Even if it was making conversation much harder than it had any right to be. The thoughts were there, somewhere in the hum, and Sandy just had to reach out and get them but she wasn’t.
It was making the world a little louder, if she were honest, but it was something that she wanted to try and make work. Maybe friends. Friends were a good start, right? Then maybe mind-reading would come later.
She scowled when her hand was slapped, biting her tongue again because there was a reason but Kat could have been nicer about it. She folded her arms then, but unfolded them a second later and stuffed them into the pockets of her baggy jeans. She took a deep breath, tried to wipe the scowl off her face and nodded.
“Yes.” She responded. “Please. To, uh, the face. And the shaping. And stuff.” She bit her lower lip. “Thank you.”
---
“Alright, well,” Kathryn sighed. Although she left her gloves on, she did roll up the black sleeves of her sweater. “Might as well get this show on the road.”
Before she began, Kathryn cast a quick glance down at Sandy’s hands, shoved into the pockets of her too-big jeans. “Though if you really want this whole transformation thing to dazzle, we might also need to look at some different clothes—or at least different ways to wear what you already have.”
Sandy’s demonstration of gratitude was responded to with a curt nod. “You’re welcome,” she replied quietly, and then, without further distraction, Kathryn got to work.
Kathryn was relatively quiet as she did the work – first the eyes with mostly neutral colours and a good eyeliner wing (which was tricky to do with Sandy’s less-than-stellar eyeliner) and some mascara, followed by some concealer to blend out the skin-tone, blush, and bronzer in the hollow of Sandy’s cheekbones. It wasn’t an intense improvement, but all of Kathryn’s choices suited Sandy’s complexion, eye and hair colours, and made her features pop.
Although she was loath to say it, Sandy was pretty without makeup, but with some of it splashed on with some artistry, she looked very pretty.
It was just a shame about the silly pink in her hair.
“You can’t wear a red lip,” Kathryn commented as she picked out a neutral-pink shade that would be a rather nice ‘nude’ lip on Sandy, “Because of…,” she gestured to the ends of Sandy’s hair. “That. It’ll clash. But this should look nice. Here—this should be an easy enough one to apply.” She handed the tube over to Sandy and turned the girl around by the shoulders so that, finally, she had to look at herself in the mirror.
---
Sandy, to her credit - as difficult as it was - was quiet while Kat finished off her makeup. What was wrong with her clothes? She was so used to hand-me-downs and whatever they could salvage that the comment confused her. She didn’t want to dress like Kat, because as much as she looked beautiful, she was pretty sure she’d look stupid dressed like that. And she couldn’t walk in shoes that had heels on them. As much as she might like to.
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” she asked, as Kat was finally done, taking the lipstick and then looking at herself in the mirror for the first time since she’d poked at her eyebrows. “I thought the-”
She trailed off as she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked so different. So grown up. So pretty. She didn’t look like herself, except she did, just a better version of her, like the women in movies and on the posters that she used to see Cal and Cas looking at when they were looking for something to eat. Like the women she saw flashes of in Cal’s memory from his nights out, the ones that turned his heads had eyeliner like this.
“...wow.”
---
“I know, right?” For the first time since she’d entered the bathroom, Kathryn was actually beaming. Something about Sandy’s response actually made her feel a flash of pride – mostly for herself – but also for the girl who clearly had never had any proper guidance with this stuff. “Sometimes, I amaze even myself. Fortunately, the blank canvas wasn’t too hard to work with. You’ve got nice skin—didn’t even have to use full foundation. If you can avoid using it, you probably ought to – this cheap stuff will just eat your skin.”
Regarding Sandy’s questions about the clothes, Kathryn shook her head and scoffed. “What’s wrong with them? First of all,” she put her gloved finger into the waistband of Sandy’s jeans and tugged, “They don’t fit. Boyfriend jeans are okay, but they’re not doing anything for your figure. It works better if—,” she scoffed yet again, “Here.”
Without waiting for a go-ahead or a response, she took the hem of Sandy’s long and baggy t-shirt, so she could knot the excess fabric at the side. It made the hemline of the shirt asymmetrical, and exposed just a bit of bare skin along the midriff. “See? Now people can tell you have a body.” It made her look considerably trendier, at any rate; and while it didn’t age Sandy, it at least made her look more like a real young adult, rather than a teenager wearing someone else’s clothes.
---
Sandy listened, paying rapt attention to Kat and once again having to fight back that response when the other woman leaned forward and started playing with her shirt. She drew in a breath and held it, not entirely sure what to expect but having her shirt tied in a knot wasn’t it.
She looked at herself in the mirror again and turned a little to look at the way the shirt sort of hugged her body now instead of hanging loose on her and making her look small and skinny.
Her eyes were bright when she looked back at Kat, away from her own reflection. “Thank you,” she enthused, twirling on the spot. It might not have been that much, but it had clearly meant a lot to Sandy. “Maybe… um, maybe you could help me pick some new clothes?”
The moment she asked, she felt a twist in her stomach that she was quickly learning was something called ‘anxiety’. She’d felt it before, but never knew the name.
“I mean- if you don’t mind, that is. I’d appreciate the help.” Because she wanted to learn. She wanted to look beautiful. Like a real girl.
---
That was quite the enthusiastic response. A literal twirl? Well, that was a good sign. Apparently, she’d done good work with what she’d had to work with. “You’re welcome,” Kathryn replied. “I just couldn’t, in good conscience, let this—,” she gestured to the mess that had, moments before, been across the counter, “Continue without intervention.”
The way that Sandy asked if Kathryn would help her find some new clothes – and the anxious look fixed on her face afterwards – once again reminded Kathryn of Clara. That alone would have made it virtually impossible to say no, but there was something else; something about being able to fashion this girl up and send her back out into the world (well, the Limbo-world) a little more in command of her own femininity.
It was an appealing project.
Kathryn removed one of her gloves to wash off the excess makeup, her blackened fingertips on full display underneath the overhead lights in the bathroom. “Hmm, yeah, I suppose I have an idea of what we could look at for you,” she finished cleaning off the glove and tugged it snugly back onto her hand. “Though if you want to start wearing a heel, we’ll have to start you off on a wedge or a kitten heel. Whatever—we’ll get there when we get there.”
Fists on her hips, Kathryn glanced one last time—up and down—the young blonde girl. “Let me know. I’m always around, usually in the greenhouse.”
---
Sandy twirled again and looked at herself in the mirror once more, watching as Kat rinsed off her glove, seeing the discolouration on the other woman’s fingers but saying nothing of it. She just nodded her head and smiled, making sure not to chew on her lip now that she had some lipstick on it because it didn’t smell like it would taste very nice.
“I’ll come find you,” she promised, “I just… I’m gonna pack this stuff up.” She offered Kat a shy smile and started - more carefully than she’d dumped them out - packing the things she’d bought into the bag they came in. Maybe she’d get a special carrier for them.
She met Kat’s eyes in the mirror. “Thanks, again.”