Res (reactionary) wrote in oblivionrp, @ 2009-03-09 22:09:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | keane, keane and res, res |
bleed for me.
Who: Res and Keane
When: Before the costume ball/parties
Where: Their rooms
Res and Keane were big costume people. Every year since they'd met they'd always thrown a monster Halloween party together, something that had become epic legend within their circle at home. They usually always ended with several guests in the hospital, and several more in jail, but it was always good fun. They were also the sort of nerds that went to geek conventions together whenever possible. So when they signed on to do the cruise, and found out there was going to be a costume party, there was never any doubt that they'd go all out.
Keane did cheat, slightly -- he was re-using an old favorite and going as Ash from the evil dead films. It was an easy thing to pull off -- ripped up khakis and a torn button-up blue shirt, all covered in dirt and blood. Fake blood, of course. He even had a chainsaw arm that he and Res had constructed out of paper machet. He hadn't been stupid enough to pack a fake 'boomstick' for the flight to Miami. After buttoning his shirt, he headed over to Res' room to check her progress.
"Oh hey, you're just in time. I need your help." Res called from the bathroom as she capped the stage make-up she had been using. She was going as a Silent Hill nurse, and she was almost ready. She had the slutty nurse dress, ragged and frayed and looking like someone had just rolled down a hill in it, as well as white gloves and heels. She'd covered every inch of revealed skin in body-makeup to look properly corpse-like and decomposed. She thought she made a pretty hot corpse.
Keane would have agreed, as sick and wrong as that was. At least he was willing to acknowledge that it was sick and wrong. "What do you need?" he asked, stepping in her bathroom and leaning against the wall. Did her dress really have to be so damn small?
Res held up a dixie cup, full of a thick, dark red liquid. After handing that to him, she pulled back the shower curtain and stepped into the tub. "Splash me. I'm going for the blood-splattery look of 'she just shanked a bitch, didn't she?'." she instructed.
"Of course you are." Keane agreed. "I suppose I should be glad you're going for make-up as opposed to actually finding a bitch to shank."
"The night is still young." Res responded, grinning widely. "Come on, I still have to put the bandages on."
Having to grin back, Keane obliged and doused her with the liquid, spraying it across her legs and torso. The effect worked well, and she did quite successfully look like she'd just slaughtered some poor sod. "It's pretty red, Res, it looks a little cheesy." he warned, realizing he had some on his hand.
"It'll turn browner when it dries." Res assured him, looking down at herself and examining the blood stains. She was pleased! She leaned back against the shower wall, waiting for it to stop dripping.
Keane raised an eyebrow at her. He couldn't think of a lot of things that would do that -- at least not things Res would have access to on a ship in the middle of the ocean. "What did you use?"
Res looked up at Keane and grinned again, the expression edging on devious. "Are you sure you want to know?" She was pretty sure he didn't. This was going to be one of those things she got yelled at for, she just knew it. But realism was important, dammit.
...Aw, fuck. Keane knew that look. He knew that look. And it always, always, always meant that he should just smile, nod, and walk away with sweet, blessed ignorance. "What did you use?" he asked again.
"My blood." Res answered, as if that should have been obvious by now. And really, it should have been. This was nowhere near the weirdest thing she'd done since they'd known each other, and he knew damn well she had a bit of a blood fetish.
Keane stared stupidly at her. Her blood. Of course she did. "How the bloody hell...?! What the fuck, Res!"
Res couldn't help but tilt back her head and laugh loudly, and she pointed to the waste bin. "I lifted a syringe from the med lab when we were there. Pretty brilliant, huh?"
Oh sweet Lord. He really should have known better than to leave her alone at the med station. Keane peered over the edge of the counter and found, sure enough, a used needle and syringe right on top. "...Okay, you've done it. I'm speechless."
"Oh come on, you can't say this is surprising." Res said, smirking at him. "And I didn't use that much, I still have plenty to spare." She knew him well, and she knew that would be what he was worried about.
She was correct. Keane sighed and set down the cup to sit at the edge of the counter. "As long as you realize you're deranged." he said, shaking his head. He was trying not to look at the dots of Res' blood on his hand. Rather than draw attention to it, he just rubbed it into his skin. Okay, so maybe they were both a little fucked up. He was okay with that.
"It wouldn't be any fun to be a well-balanced individual." Res replied, stepping out of the tub. "Let sane people treat their bodies like temples - I'll keep treating mine like a stolen car."
Sweet Christ, what a mental image. All the ideas and images that brought to mind. Keane kept his thoughts far away from his expression as he smirked at her. "You know, that probably just means you'll end up abandoned in a lake somewhere stripped and missing some of your parts."
Res grinned at him. "Smartass." she said, shoving him out of the way of the mirror so she could bandage her head. She'd put the bandages through the same weathering treatment as her dress, and now they looked quite successfully grungy. She wrapped her head, leaving them thin around her eyes so she could see through the gauze. That done, she pinned her grungy little nurses hat on top. "There. Am I a successful mix of terrifying and disturbingly hot?"
"Well, yes, but you usually are." Keane teased, knowing that would probably get him hit. He didn't mind Res shoving him around. Whatever she wanted to do, he'd just line up for more -- as always.
Res smirked at him, though the expression was hidden through the bandages at him. She mentally yelled at her stomach for flipping around when he said that, thoroughly disgusted with herself. It didn't take much. Half the damn time all he had to do was look at her and her insides went nuts. "Okay, I'm good. Let me do your make-up."
"Your bandages aren't bloody enough." Keane objected, turning her around to face him. She'd started this insanity -- might as well commit and do it right. He took the empty dixie cup and dipped his fingers in the residue, before scraping them along the side of her head a few times. It created a nice effect, like someone had tried to push her away and fight off their impending doom.
Of all the things to make her legs feel like jello, what the fuck did it say about her that that was what did it? Keane so casually dipping his fingers in her blood without thinking twice was just... fuck. She felt weak-kneed like a stupid little girl. She sat at the edge of the countertop and tried not to think about the way her temperature just spiked. "Thanks." she said. "Your turn."
Keane nodded and sat on the counter, pleased with his work. Not even thinking twice about any of it, he wiped his hand on his clothes. As many barfights as they had been in together, Res bleeding on him wasn't really a new thing.
Res didn't use real blood for Keane's makeup, she stuck to stage makeup. She still felt a little affected by the whole experience, but she found that having her face covered was a good thing right now. She helped him look successfully grim and blood, and stepped back with a triumphant (albeit hidden) smile. "Hail to the king, baby." This was going to be a fun night.