Participants:
| Scene Title | Bye Bye Blonde |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Claire needs to dye her hair, and calls on one of the closest members of Cardinal's ragtag group for help, Gillian. |
| Date | April 1, 2010 |
With a new life, comes change.
And change is what Claire plans to accomplish today, with the help of a 'former' teammate, Gillian Childs. Once she got up that morning, the young regenerator went out and pieced back her cellphone, away from the Garden and made a call. A request made and promise of an explanation, or at least as much as she could afford to tell.
Much later, chores are done and Claire sits in her room, on her bed, leg bouncing slightly as she waits, eyes distant lost in thoughts of yesterday. So much had happened lately. It was overwhelming. The break that Liz thought would happen, never came about though it was a close thing.
She's dressed simply a black tanktop, a pair of ratty jeans, things that wouldn't be ruined by what she planned to do today. Though in a place like the Garden, it would be a challenge.
No hot water.
Hot water or no, there's always ways around these many things, including the lack of warm water. Though notably, they would be easier with it.
After a few moments of stripping down coat and scarf, Gillian finds the young woman who called her, carrying a shopping bag in hand, with a bit of snow still melting in her hair. The boots were left at the door, to avoid dragging water through the entire house, meaning she's clad in socks that her toes wiggle in, jeans, and a heavier sweater. Though this is no Antarctica, it's still fucking cold outside.
"I had to go all the way to Jersey to get what you asked for," she says, dropping the bag onto the bed. "Oh, and hi. I was surprised to get a call, honestly, but it was good to hear from you. Especially after the sounds of trouble whirling down from high." Shooting her pardon in the face— or whatever body part she actually hit.
"Hey, Gillian. I do appreciate it though, since I couldn't just go out myself." Claire says, a small smile sent the augumentors way, the bag drawn closer. "When I went blonde from Delphine I had planned to go back to brunette, I remember that. Not sure why I didn't." Brows dropping down into a frown as she pulls out the box of color, turning it over in her hand.
"Yeah… this whole thing is a major cluster… and don't believe the media. I didn't shoot first. He killed me first." Eyes lift from the box to the dark haired woman, fingers moving to push blonde hair out of her own face, as she climbs to her feet. "Not to mention, Rebel was suppose to be watching for trouble."
"Some people say blondes have more fun, but I never really agreed," Gillian says, looking the smaller woman over for a few moments, though there's something a little bitter about the comment. Just a little. No need to go into that, though. "From what little I remember you looked pretty good with dark hair. I used to dye my hair all the time, but it's more difficult to go from dark to light— and my colors were usually pretty crazy. Like red streaks and stuff."
A hand goes up to her hair, to push at the damp spots where the snow melted. "I guess Rebel's not all knowing. Or at least I hope it's just a case of not being all knowing. Unless he was trying to screw you over. It's not like you'd actually have died. Even a shotgun to the head didn't do you in."
"Yeah, I was the best choice to go in, but he didn't even tell me the guy was in the building doing his laundry." There is a wrinkle of her nose, taking the box with her, Claire moves out of the bedroom. "What is worse, the man was ex-company, which explains how they knew it was me."
There is a soft sigh as she heads for the bathroom, Claire's eyes on the floor in front of her. "I think he was positioning me to have to hide with the Ferrymen." Her voice drops, she holds up enough so that she can add softly, "He wants me to look for someone." Not looking happy she adds. "I asked Knox about it and he said they don't know anything about it, so it's a Rebel alone move."
There's a silent moment before Gillian follows towards the bathroom, pulling the sweater over her head to drop on the bed. It leaves her dressed in a thinner t-shirt that she won't run around outside in. There's paint smears on it already. "Company, government, can't seem to get away from them at all." Yes, she's staying away from the topic of what Rebel may want. Some things are better not discussed, and she's a little leery on the technopath already.
"You know there's a kid in the Lighthouse— Little Eric. Not like big Eric, but he's kind of a bully sometimes— he has the ability to change the color of things, kind of like what Cardinals friend is supposed to be able to do. He's mostly good at making people think they have chicken pox, but maybe in a few years he can dye my hair without needing to go through all this."
"That would be nice. Not having to keep it up." Claire says with a touch of amusement, stepping into the bathroom, a chair already sitting there. Lifting the box, Claire gives it a little wiggle, items inside giving a little rattle. "You okay with helping me with this?" Brows lifting slightly.
Then she's tearing the box open, eyes seeking herself in the mirror, a last look at the blonde woman. Seems only fitting that this version of herself is going away. How would some of the others take it?
"You — won't be seeing me around the Library anymore." She starts softly, glancing down from her image. "Part of the deal when I agreed to join Knox and West, was I had to leave EndGame." The words murmured softly. "Don't spread it around… but the new group is called MESSIAH. I — was suppose to meet the leader, but Rebel kind of screwed that up royally."
"I'm fine with helping. I know what it's like to be on the run and have to dye your hair by yourself. I did it a few times when I thought the Company was after me," Gillian says, moving closer to glance at the young woman's reflection. Hair can create a state of mind, and reflection a persona. There's one person who hangs out at the Lighthouse sometimes she thinks would take it bad.
"I'm almost never at the Library either, so we'll probably actually see more of each other. I drop off supplies every so often here. If the dog attacks weren't happening right now, I'd even bring the kids every few days for math lessons. Cause I suck at math." And they have to be homeschooled, for now, but at least she can say all of them are getting their history and their english in. They are all learning how to read.
"MESSIAH… well, between Phoenix and PARIAH and Endgame and the Ferrymen— And Rebel for that matter, it's not really as pretentious as it sounds in my head. Sucks you have to leave, though. Liz seemed to be relying on you a lot for a while there."
There is a grimace and Claire busies herself mixing the color. "Yeah I know, but they wouldn't budge on the fact and I needed to do this. Joining that is." Dropping to sit in the chair, she offers the bottle up, with a tight lipped smile. "In fact, when I get done here I have to go meet with some of them, we're going to try and stop the government from picking up some of the sick here on Staten. Hopefully we can keep some of them out the hands of the Institute."
"Sometimes you have to do strange things— No one really wanted me in Argentina. They kept making sounds of evacing me. Magnes was on 'Get Gillian the hell out' watch half the time," Gillian says with a shake of her head, having half liked that they were protective of her, but not in that situation. "Turns out they're probably glad I didn't or we wouldn't have made it to Antarctica." Without the combo flight of the metal crab thing with her and Magnes behind the sudden levitation.
"Good luck with that. I heard down the wire that they might be doing that, and since the Lighthouse is close to the south— I had the option to move the kids, but with everything that's going on the one stable thing they have right now is the house. We legally own it, and none of the kids are sick, but I did tell a few people to avoid the house until it blows over."
"Yeah. One of the things I recovered from that guys place was a timetable for the sweep." Her eyes watch Gillian in the mirror as she settles back to let the woman work. "The Institute is involved and from what I've heard from Richard, there is experimenting going on. So anyone that is taken, that is probably where they are going to be taken."
Lips press into a firm line, "Hey Gillian?" Her head tilts back some so she can look up at the darker haired woman. "Do you know who the Ferry go too for new ID?" A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Figure I need one and that the Ferrymen might have a good one with all the people they Ferry."
"Teo helped get me an alternate ID once, but I'm not sure who actually did it. If it was Teo or that Wireless lady," Gillian says, slapping some plastic gloves on so she doesn't have to clean under her nails for hours before moving to get to work on the dye and get it into the other girl's hair. It will take some time, but it'll go faster if they talk. Over the smell. "Why don't you just punch Rebel in the cellphone and tell him to help you out. He got you in this mess, after all." There's a laugh, even as she kneeds and works the dye in. "Or you can try calling Teo, or asking around the house. Getting people new ids are kinda what they do, so I'm sure someone knows something."
"Yeah…" Blue eyes focus on the ceiling briefly, before straightening her head again, looking thoughtful. "Good point. I should make that bastard get me a new ID. I need to talk to him anyhow, get some answers if I can." Hand fold and rest in her lap, eyes squinting against the noxious smell. "I'll see what Rebel can do for me, then ask around."
"Did — did Knox ever call you?" The soon to be not blonde, asks curiously. "He seemed glad to get the number you handed me to give him."
"You certainly do, if you think he set you up like that. Is Rebel even a he? The voice he used in that recording sounded guy-ish, but also creepy," Gillian says curiously, kneeding the dye into the roots near the scalp, but trying to be careful not to get the gunk everywhere. It's not so bad to get off skin, most the time, but better to avoid the shirts. Even if they both dressed for this event.
"And no he didn't. I'm sure he's really busy, but there's actually a kid in the Lighthouse that is like his exact opposite. Cute little girl, with super strength, just like him, but she seems to be fueled by happiness and good emotions, where he draws on fear. I thought it was really cute when Mala first explained her ability to me. Reminded me of him. And Stef." Her hands stop for a moment at the mention of her clone, before she continues. "Hopefully he didn't go and lose the number or something. But I'm sure he's just busy. Being all MESSIAH-y."
There is a sot chuckle from the Regenerator. "Strength through happy thoughts. That…" Claire sounds somewhat amused. "That is a new one. But, yeah. From what Liz was saying it's a mix of three technopaths, which explains the crazy." Her head moving slightly as the dye is worked in, her eyes kind of stares at the sink before her, hands still folded there.
There is a moment of silence. "When I see Knox next, I'll make sure to thump him upside the head and remind him." A touch of humor in her words, eyes lifting to look at the woman, via the mirror.
"She's great fun at parties. Can lift furnature when people laugh enough. She'd probably fit in just great at a circus," Gillian says with a grin, glancing away from the world and toward the mirror to make brief eye contact. People enjoy the circus, generally, so she could do great acts of strength for show, not that she would ever recommend such a thing, unless that's what the girl wanted.
"But good. He probably deserves a pop in the nose or two. I didn't know him very well, honestly, not as well as you guys who were in PARIAH or Moab with him. But he helped me when I really needed it, and I probably wouldn't have been as useful at Pinehearst without that. Learning to switch between abilities in combat wasn't easy, and him and Rickham both helped me with that. And I never really got to say thanks."
Her hands start to work on applying the stuff evenly on hairs she's missed, which requires a little bit of tugging to get under, but— such is the way of things.
Claire can't help but smile, "Yeah, well… It is going to be weird siding with people we were fighting against recently… well, what I've been told. That whole thing with Norman White I just don't remember at all." Brow crease as her head is pulled back, giving only a small amount of resistance.
"Knox was on White's side, I guess some of the others were too." Her head shakes slightly, trying not to hinder Gillian too much. "I'm worried their following another like him. I — hope not at least."
"I heard about that, Knox being on their side," Gillian says, grabbing into the girl's head a bit in a 'stay still' gesture, but it's lighthearted, from the smile. "I missed some of it cause I was stressing over a bunch of stuff, and then I got myself arrested and shipped off to Argentina, but the person I heard it from…" Was her? More or less. Though apparently this girl doesn't remember her. There's few people who probably do.
"Anyway, she mentioned Knox was working with White, which she thought made him a fucking moron. But— maybe he was already working for this MESSIAH guy at that point. You never know. He could've been doing a recruiting thing while waiting for White to collapse in on himself." There's a lot of options. "Though Knox is hardly a saint. I wouldn't put it past him to run around with the guys with the biggest kaboom. And White packed quite a kaboom, from what I heard."
"That is what I heard too… that he packed quite a punch." There is a small frown as she tries to remember something but there is nothing there, so Claire sighs softly. "Even if I was supposedly there through all of it." She starts to shake her head, but stops herself, an apologetic look shot to the mirror image of Gillian.
Then a smile slowly replaces it, "I'm sorry I never really said much to you… Well, you or Peyton. I dunno." Eyes shift away, a look of uncertainty on her face, fingers lifting to scratch an itch on her cheek. "I want to blame it on everything that happened overseas, but I felt… I don't know how I feel actually."
"It's fine. I never exactly went out of my way to get to know you either," Gillian says, smoothing the dye over the last of the ends and roots, lifting and dropping the locks to make sure she got all sides. It's coming toward the end. "You went through a lot overseas— all of us did." But few people went through quite as much. "Dying is traumatic. Dying and living through it is probably one of the worst things there is." She knows it was for her, every time it happened. And every time it nearly happened.
"Peyton might be a bit more difficult to meet up with, but anytime you want to stop by the Lighthouse, you can. Noriko's staying there right now. Neither of you remember each other, probably… And Magnes is helping out there too." Which from her tone she suspects is a negative.
Lidded drop slightly at the mention of Magnes. "Last thing I need him knowing is that I am here."There is a touch of sadness to her features, "He is one of the ones I feel guilty about. I think it effected him the most, beyond me." There is a soft sigh and she shakes her head this time. "Anyhow, dying stopped being a big deal long before Madagascar. I — use to kill myself many time, video taped it to document it." Brows quirk upwards as th memories, as least she has those.
"It's the not remembering and remembering some really bad stuff." Glancing up, when Gillian is done spreading it out, Claire stands, looking at the thick ropes of dye gooped hair. "The next part I can do, Since it's just washing it out." Her head turns, followed shortly by a twist of her body to look at the other woman. "I really appreciate you taking the time to help.
Dying, over and over, in fact documenting it. Gillian has one comment for that. "Even I was never that goth." It was meant as a joke, whether it really was or not. Dying is something she's not sure she could ever get used to, much less killing herself to document it. "I won't tell him you're here. He's not in the network or anything, so he won't have to know. If you want to stop by— you can call first. I'll let you know if it's a day he's introducing the kids to comic books or not."
Oh, she knows avoiding ex-boyfriends well enough. Even if— her situation is especially unique. As she steps back, the gloves are pulled off, left inside out, and dropped into the trash. The rest of the clean up will go there too.
"Goodbye, blonde. Hello, rocking brunette. I'll let you handle the rest. If you need anything, just let me know. Even if you can't be in EndGame anymore, it doesn't mean you can't straddle the fence as much as you can, in secret." As she moves out of the bathroom, she finds her sweater and pulls it back ontop of her shirt, smeared a bit with dye. But she'd expected that. "Good luck with stopping the Institute Round Up."
"Yeah, I'll be in touch, or as best I can." Claire says, with a more genuine smile. "Don't let Liz get too over her head. Or let Richard… Well, not much you can stop him from doing." Ther is a small chuckles for that last. Moving to the bathroom, doorway, hair greasy with dye, her smile fades away some. "Yeah, I think MESSIAH is going to need all the luck it ca get. And hopefully they won't do too much, too quickly."
She raises her hand in farewell and steps backwards into the small bathroom. "Take care, Gillian."
Really, what could she keep Cardinal from doing? There's very few things, especially when he can come and go as he pleases. She can't even throw things at him anymore— and she wouldn't use his one weakness against him. Not in this case. Laser pointers would just be mean.
"And try not to get yourself killed too many times," Gillian says with a wave, which is the same as telling her to take care, as she moves through the bedroom door and downstairs to get all her layers back on before she braves the cold.