fandomhighdorms | 3rd Floor Girls Bathroom, Sunday Night

Current Mood: artistic

Entry tags:

3rd Floor Girls Bathroom, Sunday Night

After the brunch, Quinn had taken a page she'd torn out of Cosmo to Theodoric's of York, handed it to a stylist, and watched in satisfaction as the long hair fell away from her face. It was therapeutic; she looked like an adult now, not like some little girl who'd spent all weekend halfway waiting for Mommy and Daddy to show up.

And now she was standing in front of the girls' room mirror, tub in gloved hand. It would wash out soon, but was she really daring enough to streak her hair with pink, even for a week or so? It was just -- she needed something to distract her from the fact she didn't really have a family anymore. Hair worked. She was 17; there was practically a law mandating she have pink hair at some point.

She drew a deep breath and started dabbing the dye into the front part of her hair.

[OOC: Open bathroom post. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Kenzi was getting ready for bed, so wandered in with her toothbrush in hand, pajamas already on. She stopped to stare, then got closer. To stare.

"Are you... dying your hair?"

"Does it look like I'm building a birdhouse?" Quinn asked, and rubbed some more dye into her locks. "Yes. I am dying my hair. Just like you and Ramona do every other week or something."

"Hunh. I didn't think you'd ever do that," Kenzi said, putting toothpaste on her brush. "Shows what I know." She tilted her head to watch, scrubbing her back teeth.

"It's been highlighted since I was fourteen," Quinn said absently. Probably it was an overshare, but fuck it, if she was dying her hair like a delinquent she could do that. "I'm annoyed neither of my parents came. This is me acting out."

She was sarcastic, but she also wasn't.

Quinn tilted her head at the mirror, trying to see if it looked like she'd gotten the dye gel all the way to her roots.

Blink. Wow. Another thing she'd never think Quinn would say. But... hey. Kenzi spit out her mouthful of toothpaste and said, "And I'm relieved mine didn't, so this is me, acting normal. For me." She rinsed out her mouth, then came over to watch, clinical. "Think they'll be appropriately horrified if it looks good on you?"

"You didn't hatch from an egg?" Quinn asked, almost interested. "And -- my mom will be horrified until she's convinced this doesn't mean I'm going to start taking off my clothes in public and won't keep me from getting into her sorority. My dad's barely noticed me in months, so who can say?"

She took her eyes off the mirror, glanced to Kenzi. "It felt like a very long weekend."

"Oh yeah." In a good way, in parts, like meeting Ray, and Agent Burke, and even, yeah, Tatya Ludmilla. But still. It had brought up a lot of... stuff. "I have parents. Well. A mom. And a stepdad." Kenzi shrugged, then smirked. "And a huge network of cousins and aunts who managed to track me down and send a representative to give me the 'you never call, you never write, are you scamming the idiots' speech." She leaned against the wall, watching Quinn in the mirror. "So your mom really is uptight, hunh?"

The missing dad thing... felt a little too raw to touch.

"Popularity is huge with her. She was prom queen every single year, high school and college," Quinn explained. "My sister, too. If I'm not...."

She let the sentence drop as she found an old comb and started combing the dye through her hair. The truth was, she did want prom queen; she just figured she could have pink hair for a while and then pick her life back up. She'd plead temporary insanity.

"So your whole family seriously rips people off? Like, as a job?"

Edited 2011-10-03 02:37 (UTC)

"That sounds like so much work," Kenzi said in disbelief. "For something that won't last. Or that you'd have to just-- do again." She tried to picture that, and shook her head. "If you're not, what?"

"And not the whole family." She shrugged. "The ones who remember Russia, they do it more. You can't trust the system. It's better to be prepared, do stuff off the books, even if it's legit." She climbed up and perched on one sink, watching Quinn and considering. "The cut's cute."

"I love the cut," Quinn acknowledged, with an easy smile. "Oh, nothing horrible will happen, she'll just be -- disappointed. She still brings up that I quit cheering. Like, a year ago."

"It's important," she added defensively. "Popular people smile more. Smiling more makes you healthier. I read it in Cosmo."

"So... being popular makes you happy, and happy makes you healthy?" Cosmo?? Quinn, Quinn, Quinn... The next time they were at loggerheads, Cosmo was getting quoted. But not the stuff about the parents. "Whatever works for you, I guess. Although your mom needs to lighten up." Kenzi smirked. A lot. "The hair should help."

"Mmm," Quinn confirmed. She was occupied setting a timer for how long it'd be before she could rinse the dye out; she'd never thought to doubt the reliability of Cosmo. "Either she'll lighten up, or she'll have a heart attack. I hope it's the first one."

"Good luck with that." Kenzi looked amused. "It's only fair. If she's not here to see the hair, you get to do what you want with it."

"Not to mention, it's attached to my head," Quinn pointed out. "I'm not making her dye hers."

"'Xactly." Kenzi hopped off the sink. "Hope for you yet, Quinn." She flashed her a wicked grin and a devil's horns as she headed for the door. "Next step, vandalism!"

Petra wasn't sure how she'd gotten whatever this grossness was on her cardigan, but she didn't want it to set, so she was popping into the next bathroom she came to...to find Quinn having what appeared to be a Hair Crisis.

Well. At least this one didn't involve a machete?

"Trying out a new look?" she asked, deliberately super-casual, as she took off her sweater to inspect the stain a little closer.

Edited 2011-10-03 02:45 (UTC)

"It's temporary dye," she promised. Quinn didn't really care what Kenzi thought of her, so she felt free to be honest; Petra's opinion actually mattered. "I was just ... sick of the length."

She studied her reflection some more. "I'm calling it stress relief."

"My best friend hacked hers off with a machete," Petra told her. "I totally do not judge. It's a cute cut." She wasn't sure the pink was going to work with Quinn's skin tone, but now was so very not the time to point things like that out.

While examining the spot on her sweater, she asked, "You want to talk about whatever brought this on? Aaaand this is ketchup. Great." Petra turned the water on so she could hopefully rinse the stain out.

"Sometimes vinegar works," Quinn suggested helpfully. "On ketchup, I mean."

She smiled wanly. "It's not that interesting. My parents split up over the summer. Neither of them made it this weekend -- which bit. And I've been stressed. There's the sorority, there's council, there's my classes, there's senior year stuff, there's living on an insane island ... everything. I needed to do something radical."

Pink hair counted.

"I know," Petra said. "But if you rinse it from the back with cold water sometimes it'll get most of it out so you're not having to go through the entire bag of tricks. That sucks about your parents. Mine didn't make it either, but that was a money thing." She decided not mentioning that her best friend had made it might be a good idea. "And if you can't have pink hair in high school, when can you, really?"

"I'm betting on never," Quinn said thoughtfully. "Which would be sad, right? A whole life with no funny hair."

"Well, I guess there's always college," Petra said. "If you go. But that's sort of the same principle as boarding school."

"I'm going," Quinn told her. "Unless I blow my SATs or something, anyhow."

Which she had no intention of doing. She picked up a gloppy strand of hair, held it away from her head to catch the light. "This is going to be really pink, isn't it?"

She sounded half thrilled and half terrified.

"Yeah, it kind of is," Petra told her, her voice more than her words saying 'don't freak out.' "It's just hair, right? It'll grow out. Or you can dye it again."

"The package says this washes off," Quinn said, squinting at the tub just in case the words might have changed while she wasn't looking. "In ... four to six weeks. Okay. So I might end up dying over it before that."

[OOC: The mun must note that when she Manic Paniced her hair purple it was gone in more like two weeks, but I'm not as blonde as Quinn so whatever.]

"If your hair's already been bleached it lasts longer," Petra told her. As Billy discovered after a music video shoot for Boyz Will B Boyz. There had been emergency stylists. It was hilarious. "So like if you do highlights they might stay pink. Which would be a cool effect, actually. But if you decide you're done with it," or came to her senses and freaked out, "I'll be happy to help if I can."

"It was highlighted," Quinn said in a small voice.

She drew three deep breaths. "I ... think I should quit staring at it in the mirror. It has to sit for a while. After I wash it out, I'll leave it for a couple days and see how I feel."

"Yeah, don't decide anything--" else "--about it too quickly," Petra said. "You always need a couple of days to get used to a new haircut, right? Or at least I do."

Edited 2011-10-03 20:07 (UTC)

"No, you're right," Quinn decided. she moved to wrap her hair in a towel. "I am going to go, read, and let this sit for a while. But I'll come bug you if I hate it in a couple days."

"I'm in 511 if you need me," Petra agreed. "I'm going to...continue trying to save this sweater." Stupid ketchup.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

3rd Floor Girls Bathroom, Sunday Night

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject