The liner was on in seconds. So was some darkly shaped eyeshadow, mascara, foundation (paler than he would have liked but it was Syn he was talking about here) and some gloss to go over his lips. His hair was toussled so it didn't look like he'd just rolled out of a dung heap and then he put the make up bag back on the front seat of the car. He could tell just by Syn's energy that he wasn't feeling it tonight, he didn't need Ikon's little pick-me-up words to get it noticed.
Turning to Syn Will's icy persona dropped slightly. "What?" he asked; to Ikon it might sound challenging but Will hoped that, to Syn, it was an invitation to speak his mind or forever hold his peace.