Participants:
| Scene Title | A Brand New Hue |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Raquelle's salon is the place to get a fresh new look, as well as the latest gossip. Gillian finds out why Peyton thinks he's the best at both. |
| Date | August 21, 2010 |
Cambria Salon
Just two nights before, Peyton had mentioned the possibility of bringing Gillian in to visit Raquelle for much needed R and R from the esteemed stylist. If anyone deserves some me-time and looking after, it's certainly Peyton's former roommate. She finally touched base with the former Institute inmate on Friday, deciding to make the offhand comment to Raquelle a reality.
The door to the Cambria Salon opens, and the taller of the two brunettes ushers the other in, a light hand on Gillian's shoulder to help reassure and comfort her. The two haven't spoken about all the atrocities that Gillian has been through — Peyton knows, having seen some of them through the eyes of others, and that silent understanding might be enough. If it's not, if Gillian needs something other than tacit empathy, she's been told that Peyton will listen.
Today, however, is probably not that day. Today is about getting hair done and nails polished. About feeling pretty and feminine and relaxed and cared for.
It's really too bad that Gillian's got something else on her mind entirely, when they walk through the door. It's not pampering, or caring, or relaxation that brought her here. It's one thing in particular. A kind of quiet safety, in the form of a new identity. A new person. The woman who will leave the spa won't be the same one that walked in.
That's the plan.
"Do you know this guy well?" she has to ask, a bit leery even as she looks around the spa, wary and paranoid, but if you'd just spent two months in a holding cell, you might too. She needs a tan, her hair looks like it's seen abuse. She's washed it sense then, but two months of overgrowing and no showers or washing still had it's effect. And it wasn't a good one.
The owner of the shop happens to be sitting at the front desk for once, he wears a black turtleneck with no sleeves, tight black jeans and a pair of black docs, a bright fedora perched on his head matching a red silver studded wrist band. Raquelle recognizes Peyton, starting to rise from his seat. "Peybaby…" But he pauses in mid-standing up to stare at Gillian, lashes fluttering and expression unreadable before it softens and he stands up fully, coming out from around the desk and not approaching the two women as enthusiastically as he usually does, just smiling softly. "Well well well, who's your beautiful lil' friend here…hey sweetie." He blows a kiss to Peyton and watches Gillian with quiet concern.
"Yeah, he's wonderful, both style wise and otherwise," Peyton says softly just as Raquelle greets her. She lets go of Gillian to step toward Raquelle, hands going to his shoulders and near-kissing each of his cheeks, not quite air-kiss style, but more of cheek-bump style, so that she doesn't get lip gloss all over his exquisite cheekbones.
"Hey, Raquelle darling. I told you I had a friend who could use a little of your magic. I should have called, but it was a little last minute. Can you squeeze her in? I could go for a bang trim but otherwise, spend all your attention on Gillian here," she says softly. Her own dark eyes have dark circles beneath suggesting some rough nights since he's seen her last, but over all she looks healthier than Gillian. It'd be hard not to.
After getting out of that cell, Gillian went through withdrawal, too, which didn't help her skin-tone or hair. Or the dark circles under her eyes. Or the haunted and tired look that's still there. A rough couple of years would be a good description, but especially the last few months. "It's— nice to meet you. Um…" She glances over at Peyton, and then looks back at the tall man, who is obviously fab with his fashion sense. "If you have time, I actually want a color change, too. I'm thinking red, like, really red. As red as you can get with your professional coloring, stuff. I mean, I can probably do it out of a bottle, but I don't think my hair would appreciate it." Or her scalp, for thar matter…
Raquelle looks thoughtful as he returns the smooches to the cheeks, eyeing Gillian and nodding before pointing to the office, sighing softly. "Ya'll want Chinese too? Or sushi? I was about to order." He keeps his voice softly, smiling and chuckling softly and just shaking his head from time to time. "Oh honey, I'm going to hook you up…don't worry, go on in the back office won't you? I have some cheesecake in the mini-fridge and some drinks and my personal stations back there. I need to get some towels." Then he looks back to Peyton with his concern face.
"Thank you, Kelly," Peyton says, reaching to squeeze his hand with a grateful smile. She points to the door. "Um, whatever you want, get triple, and I'll pay?" she says, nodding to Gillian to head on back. "Head on back and I'll be right there."
Once Gillian's on her way through the salon to the back room, Peyton turns to bring her own dark worried gaze to Raquelle's. "She's been through hell. Worse than I had, when you first met me. I can't tell you the details, but… she definitely can use as many friends as she can get, and you're one of the best I can think of," she whispers. "And I know you, you'll probably try to tell her it's on the house, but I'll pay, okay? And I'll get your lunch, too. This is a huge favor, and I owe you more than just some money and lunch for it." She tilts her chin up to give another quick kiss to his cheek, this time not worrying about leaving marks.
"I haven't had sushi or Chinese in forever, that'd be wonderful," Gillian admits with a smile, though it seems a little forced, and only just makes dimples appear on her cheeks, as she moves toward the back room as ordered. As she moves, she leans in close to Peyton to whisper in a quiet voice, "He's kinda cute, but I'm guessing we're not his type." She's guessing. "Why are all the good looking ones gay, stupid, or complete assholes." And at least Kelly's the endearing one of the three. "Well, except Card, but he doesn't count."
Raquelle chuckles softly and tilts his head back a bit, smiling a bit at whatever Peyton says before tilting his head to the side and just giving a small nod. "Okay baby." He returns the cheek kiss and then turns smoothly to head for his office, gesturing for the wimmen folk to follow or head that way with a extra sway of his hips. "Now now now…I shall be making you both look gorgeous right? Hair, nails…the whole shebang?"
"Yeah, he is the most endearing of the most endearing," Peyton says more loudly once they catch up to Gillian. Whether either Raquelle or Gillian noticed her eyes drop and her jaw tighten a touch at the mention of Cardinal, Peyton isn't sure. "Well. More gorgeous. We're already gorgeous," she says more cheerfully, entering the private back room which serves as Raquelle's work station as well as office.
"I just need a trim, unless you have anything spectacular in mind, for me, but hair and nails and the works for Gillian."
"God, I don't even want to think of how you'll deal with these," Gillian admits, looking down at her nails, which have seen better days. Some are chewed off, she didn't have much to eat in those last few days, when the power went out and the door was locked, but others look as if they scratched against walls trying to get out, broken and bent backwards, causing damaged areas along the nail. And there's also a strong sign of a writer's callous on one finger, where her pencil rested. No matter how much she likes computers, nothing beats a good pencil on paper for her.
"Just hair really is all I need, though, but whatever you want to do to me, go ahead." Enough's been done to her lately, but at least this time it should be pleasant.
There is very little that escapes Raquelle's notice when it comes to people and watching, reading, dealing with the. So he tilts his head to the other side and has his towels and his cape and he's pushing the dye cart along. "Of course, ya'll are just drop dead sexy." He points towards the custom made styling chair, pointing Peyton to one of the office chairs. He juggles materials to select a book that has all the hair dye shades and colors to offer to Gillian with a soft smile. "You have beautiful hands…things sometimes just need to be polished and cleaned up, okay?" He did take time to study those nails. "I won't do anything you don't want me to do."
The youngest of the three watches, a sad and reminiscent smile on her face. This is how she met Raquelle, just days after her ordeal at the hands of Humanis First, a year ago now. He had looked at her chipped nails and the scratches on her hands caused by her escape effort. Now Gillian's here to be pampered, though her reason is more utilitarian.
"He's a miracle worker," Peyton says, peering over at the shade book and tilting her head. "You'll look great as a redhead," she adds encouragingly. "I would go red, but I'm too something for it. The best I can do is a reddish brown."
Gillian has partially disconnected.
"I've never gone full red, just red highlights, but I think it'll work better than blonde," Gillian admits, not wanting to really think of herself as a blonde. Even if it seems like some guys like blonde's better. A red head would be more her she thinks— and it reminds her of her sister. The sister that was never really her sister by blood. "Thanks, Kel. I— I'm really not that sexy right now, but I have a feeling I'll be closer to it when I leave."
If she can manage to relax enough to get the worry and haunted look out of her eyes. Peyton understands, and better than she even knows. They hadn't really been friends during her crisis. That came later. But the eye contact shows she's grateful for this. Even if she's using it to force a change when she can't change what she wishes she could.
Gillian has reconnected.
Raquelle mmhms softly as he bustles around. "This is very Deja Vuish, I hope ya'll realize that." He chuckles softly. "Only Miss Peybaby over there looked a hot mess and enhanced it with the most glamorous running from the Paparazzi look I have ever seen." He starts mixing the dyes, squinting. "You want more red or…orange tints to this like…more fiery red head or Anne of Green Gables?" He has on plastic gloves however, working quickly and efficiently as he chatters away. "You /are/ beautiful honey, sexy is just a state of mind and Peyton you could go redhead but you'd have to change your entire look. Look in my desk drawer if you want and pick out a polish color for yourself." He hmms thoughtfully as he mixes. "Soooo…how about them mets?" He doesn't even know what a met is.
Peyton snorts a little and opens the drawer to start finding polish colors for herself and for Gillian. "I don't know. How about them Arics?" she teases the man back. "When are you going on your little date, and does your smoking hot midget know about this?" she asks playfully. Gossip might help set Gillian at ease, rather than discussing Gillian and their crises. "He's pretty cute. My puppy likes him, so you know, that's a pretty good gauge of character, no?"
Puppy. A child of one of the dogs that tried to eat her alive. Gillian has the good nature just to nod and smile. It's not the children's fault what the parents do, after all. "I'm thinking more fiery red," she admits, not wanting to go into sports she knows nothing about, anyway. "Some orange wouldn't hurt, but definitely more red. I want to stand out, but not like— glow or anything." She glows enough all on her own, anyway.
Closing her eyes, she settles back into the chair, and tries to relax, waiting for fingers to rub through her hair, and make her feel human again. "You know, a massage wouldn't be a bad idea, either." She may have to buy time with one.
Screeeeeeetch, Raquelle's brain hits the mental wall of idle conversation and he quickly looks over to Peyton. "…ahaha…ha…oh boy." He takes a deep breath. "You're talking about the cutie patutie who purchased me at the auction? Oooh, I have to get that set up still. And no, I haven't told my honey bunches of joy and love and doggies about this yet." He's honest at least as he finishes mixing up the dye, catching his bottom lip between his teeth before removing the gloves for the time being as he moves behind the woman, running his fingers through her hair to test a few things, fingers finding her scalp as he massages gently and sighs softly. "We'll get you a fiery red look then. Don't worry, you're in Raquelle's hands sweetie, I take good care of people."
"Oops," Peyton says, and smirks a little. "I have too many dates and none with the one I want. Guess that auction put us both in a bad place. Aric's nice though — if you tell him it's just for friendship and all, I'm sure he'll understand. I mean, it's all for charity and fun. No one should expect a lifelong relationship out of it." She actually won a date with the person she wanted, but somehow she knows that date isn't going to happen. Just like the last one didn't really happen.
She finds a fierce orange-red nail polish and hands it to Gillian. "Like this color!" she says. "But for her hair." And then an odd gun-metal blue for her own nails.
"Hold on," Gillian says, opening her eyes to see the nail polish that Peyton is indicating, but also to look her in the eye, "That color is great, but— what guy you want to date? You haven't told me about any guy you want to date. Cause if you had I would totally try to help you get him." Maybe for a favor or two. But Peyton's totally dug herself into a hole with that one.
Cause Gillian loves a mystery that needs to be solved.
"I dunno if it is /bad/ or not yet." Raquelle grins. "I do hope to be a bad enough boy to keep him distracted enough not to shoot anything however!" He gives a little roll of his hips and winks before putting back on his gloves and starting to get to work on the dye job. "Right then, that color…" He drawls softly, eyebrow raising. "Yes, there's a guy you wish to date and you haven't let me make you up for it yet? I feel neglected has a stylist…"
"No. There's no one," Peyton says quickly, shaking her head and crossing her legs as she watches Raquelle work on Gillian. "I just mean… I have too many dates, and none of them are anyone I'm particularly interested in or who is particularly interested in me, so it's fine." She turns the polish bottle in her hands, watching the tiny little metal bead inside carve its way through the polish beneath the glass. "No helping hook me up with anyone," she adds, a finger pointing to Gillian, and then Raquelle.
"Oh, well, I understand that," Gillian admits, closing her eyes again to try and relax. It's not going to be easy, to trust the stylist, even if he seems far more harmless than any of the monsters who had her in their hands the last few months… It's a good change of pace. "If you do find a guy, you better let him make you up at least. My help probably would suck. All the guys I really want to be with end up telling me to get out of their lives." And the last person she kissed, well, that's complicated.
Raquelle smirks as he works on his dying with the brush and all like the artist that he is, lashes fluttering. "…hmm." That's all he has to say about that for now, working the color through the woman's hair. "You know…the one you're meant to be with you usually don't know until you are with 'em. I mean my boyfriend and I got into a huge name calling horrible argument yelling at each other when we first met…"
"Really? I can't picture that," Peyton says with eyes wide, and then she shakes her head at Gillian. "That guy is an asshole, and you deserve better. Even if it's not the one I think I know? If they said that, they're assholes, period. We'll find you someone better." She gives a little nod. "Meanwhile I have that weird kid who bought me. The one who said he knew you," Peyton says with a nod toward Raquelle. "And then there's the guy who fainted. Because you know, I like a guy that makes me feel like I'm the more masculine of the two of us. And then there's… well, Cardinal, but that doesn't count. I should sell someone my date with him, maybe that will make him happier." She sighs a little and then spins back in the chair to examine more nail polish colors.
"Yeah, they're assholes," Gillian says, but there's a quiet tone to her voice that shows it doesn't matter quite as much to her how much they're assholes. They made at impression, some more literal than others, and it's hard just to— stop wondering. A mystery that will never be solved is like a book that cuts off halfway through. It's not right. "I'd take a date with Card," she adds, raising a hand up as the color is worked into her hair and she keeps her eyes closed. "But I don't think I could pay you for it."
"Oooh, picture it mami, picture it. I almost beaned him with a box of lucky charms as well. But then I asked him out." Raquelle shrugs his shoulders, setting the brush aside when he's finally finished working the dye in before he starts tearing up for no damn reason but he's listening as he works and takes a step back. "We'll let it sit for a bit." He nods slowly and cleans up the dye station and etc. "Cardinal?" He asks softly. "How about you both go on a date with him…make it all special, and about you two. Totally get all dressed up and blow his mind? I think it could be fun for all."
Her head down for a moment as she examines the polishes, Peyton darts a glance up to the mirror to see Gillian raising a hand, volunteering for the date with Cardinal. Hair falling forward to cover her slightly flushed cheeks, she opens her mouth to respond, when Raquelle makes his own suggestion. She laughs a little huskily and shakes her head. "He bought me at the last one. Our date was lame. Tell you what. You deserve a night out, and so does he. My treat. I shouldn't have bid on him and taken away his chance at a nice night out, so let me make it up to him, and you can go show off your new look. Paint the town red." Her words come fast and lightly, but she doesn't turn her chair to look at either of them while she talks.
Eyes still closed, Gillian doesn't see much of the poor girl's reaction, and she's finally smiling at something again. Complete with dimples, and not as much sadness. "I wouldn't mind it— It could be fun. I haven't actually been on a date in a long time. Though it'd probably just be casual, no throwing things at each other or threats of violence. Cause that's what really makes a good first impression." And she actually opens an eye to look at Raquelle. Yes, she might actually think violence is a good way to meet a guy.
Raquelle does watch Peyton like a hawk, narrowing his eyes for a moment before sighing softly. "Yep, that's it. After Aric, I have to take you for a date too." He blows the woman a kiss before moving to his washing station to set things up for the rinsing and washing, checking the clock on the wall. "Hey! Throwing things and threats of violence doesn't usually work but…he's really really hot, honest."
"You already owe Melissa one, sweetie," Peyton murmurs, finally turning in the seat. "But we can hang out any time you want. I'll make sure you have my cell so it's not me always coming to you for love and affection." Her eyes glimmer just a touch more than they should, but she gives a warm look to Raquelle. "And throwing things can make quite an impression — if you throw hard enough. Maybe that's my problem. I throw like a girl."
"Man, what a stud you are, Kel. Dates with hot guys and girls alike," Gillian says with a laugh, trying her best not to move her head too much, even if the massaging part is done, and she can look across at him now. "I can teach you gow to throw, and punch— I learned pretty early. Crappy boyfriends." And she kept learning, even if it's less— something she can actual use in the real world to protect herself. "I think I want my hair shorter too, if that's cool, like— right around the shoulders. It kinda got longer than I like the last few months." Thanks to winter, followed by captivity.
"What? Is there a golden rule that hot guys can't go on dates with sweet chicks? More than one?" Raquelle bahs and rolls his eyes before winking to Peyton as he wipes his eyes and nods. "I'll call you then honey, now that you can legally drink lots of fun we can get up to." He winks, teasing of course before his attention turns back to Gillian. "Ooooh I think I like you." He grins. "We'll completely sexify your hair but still make it practical okay? Now c'mon, lets head over to the sink so that when we have to rinse, it isn't too late."
"Oh, I see, you were just waiting for me to be legal, huh?" Peyton says sassily back to Raquelle, laughing lightly. His words do put her in a better mood, and she feels selfish for thinking about herself at all after what Gillian's been through the past several months. "It's going to look great. I can't wait to see it," she says encouragingly, knowing that while a new look is a way of sweeping her past behind her, it's still a change that might be frightening, even as simple and superficial-seeming as it is. "I should do something drastic one day…" Peyton intones, teasingly watching Raquelle for his reaction. "What do you think…
"About fuchsia?"
As instructed, Gillian moves from her comfortable seat. There's a desire to scratch at her scalp, but she keeps from doing it. She had a dozen plus tattoos, so she can handle the itch of dye on her scalp for a few minutes while she settles down. "I think you'd look better with blue," she comments to Peyton, pointing to her fingernail polish. "Like that, maybe. But you look fine as you are. And Kel thinks so too." And Kel is a miracle worker, in a way. She came here expecting to just be all business, but she's actually smiling, as she settles back into the chair.
To get sexified.
And as the miracle worker is bending his newest client back a bit to start washing the dye out he only has ooonnneee thing to say. "Fuchsia? Blue? Tell you what, the day you come in to get your hair fruit loop candy colored is the day I get my winkie willie pierced." Then he snorts and shakes his head muttering something in Japanese. "…this is /so/ not Sailor Moon…" Then he flashes a sweet smile. "Alright baby, lets get to washing…" That's all he has to say.