Let's Play Dress Up


gillian2_icon.gif magnes_icon.gif

Scene Title Let's Play Dress Up
Synopsis While dressing up does occur, there's a lot of serious discussions between Magnes and Gillian.
Date September 3, 2009

Magnes' Apartment

Early in the afternoon, no shoes on, just a pair of baggy blue jeans and his favorite shirt to wear in the house, the white t-shirt with 9th Wonders Claire on it and the caption:


Fuck Yeah.

He's got his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling with a Batman: The Animated Series DVD playing. He left the two doors unlocked for Gillian, Someone'll let Gillian into the back door when she arrives, and when she walks up to Magnes' room, he'll have instructed her that he left it unlocked, but to lock it when she got in. He didn't give her any particular reason to come over, so, who knows.

When the door opens, closes and locks, there's no question who it is. Gillian looks very much like herself. A short sleeved shirt even shows off the mangled tattoos showing for a fact the woman locking the door is the one he knew for the longest. Not Stef. Stef's tattoos weren't mangled at all. She'd not experienced the radioactive point blank death which burnt off chunks of her skin and blew off one of her legs entirely. That doesn't mean she looks like she's having the best day. Pale, a little on the jittery side, she looks as if she's had one too many cups of coffee.

"Hey," she says once the door's closed, moving far enough in to peek over at the DVD playing. "Cartoons," she says with a smile, not surprised by the look of her. "So what's going on? You didn't get shot again, did you?"

"No, but you're wanted by the police. And don't go running away, you know I wouldn't arrest you." Magnes assures as he sits, holding his stomach and groaning when the stitches pull. "So, where's Else?"

"I— fuck," Gillian says, hearing the words and looking at first surprised and then immediately worried. Despite his assurances, she backs up a bit from him, glancing toward the locked door, the windows. There's obvious paranoia, but that's something he's seen from her before. It just looks a little more high strung this time. "I can't tell you that. She's— she's okay. It'll be up to her if she opts to come up with a story and go back to her singing. I haven't seen her since I dropped her off somewhere safe."

"You're jumpy today, come sit down or something." Magnes pats the spot on the bed, next to him, legs crossed as he waits to see if she'll come. "So, I guess the next question is what're we gonna do about you? We need a story to get you off the hook."

"I know I forgot the damn gun I fired— probably got my fingerprints, huh?" Gillian mutters as she makes her way over to the bed. There's still something very jumpy about the way she sits, fidgetty, but she just found out she's wanted by the police. Even if this one isn't going to take her in, who knows what'll happen the next time she walks down the street? "I've been missing since October. I just assumed it would continue on. Do you think I should look into getting my face changed?"

"You haven't committed a crime." Magnes points out, taking note of her fidgettiness, but mostly writing it off as being nervous from the situation. "I say turn yourself in, I can go with you, and you just tell them what they wanna hear. There's nothing for them to hold you on, so the sooner you get this out of the way, the better."

"I'm Unregistered. That's a crime in the law's eyes, at least, whether you disagree with Registration or not," Gillian says with a shrug of her shoulders. "I'm an associate of Pheonix. They probably have footage of me on multiple occassions, anyway. You really honestly think that turning myself in would make anything better?"

"Well, ever thought about faking your own death? Some illusions or good telepathy could handle that, I imagine, and you'd have a police witness." Magnes suggests, moving a hand over to her's. "I guess I'm just a bit, I don't know, weird about face changing. I met Stef, she's working with Shard, still feels like I'm talking to you, except she got a pretty crappy deal, so I'm watching one of my best friends kind of suffer."

"I should've faked my death a few months ago. I died enough times it could've looked real," Gillian mutters softly, wrinkling her nose. There's that fidgeting again, but it stops as she processes the last things that were said there. "Stef? Who is Stef?" This is the second time in a handful of days she's heard mention of Shard too. And not in the Save Staten Island ways.

"Your clone, she says that's what you were originally supposed to be named, so she went with it." Magnes explains, casually floating off the bed toward the mini-fridge, taking out a can of Game Fuel to toss it to her in a rather slow gravitiless manner, also getting a can for himself. "But I can help you fake your death, if you give me enough time to set it up."

"My— my clone," Gillian repeats quietly. From the way her shoulders sink as she looks at him, this is not something she'd known about at all, but everything might begin clicking into place. That's why Cat saw someone that looked like her with Shard. "Fuck. Son of a— " She stands up, rubbing hands over her face. The bag she'd carried in remains against the bed as she paces a few steps away. "I thought all the clones I had died— what— how the hell did she survive? How— Jesus Christ."

"It's really hard, she's trying to be tough about it, acting like it's nothing at all, but it bugs the crap out of her that she can't merge with you again. She said something happened, like she got zapped or something, can't remember, but she said it made her lose the connection to you." Magnes explains the situation as he floats back over to her, sitting next to her on the bed with his legs crossed. He reaches for a notepad from the night stand, offering it and a pen. "She has my email and IM names and my number, if you give me the one you want me to use, I can forward her emails to you if she sends anything. She knows how to find me too, I told her that being a clone doesn't change anything, she's still you, she's still one of my best friends."

When she makes it back to the edge of the bed, Gillian doesn't just sit down, she lays back and puts hands over her face. Of all the things she thought she had to worry about, a second her that really is her running around wasn't one of them. "She has super strength, doesn't she? Cat said she saw me— thought that I'd been lying about losing Peter's power. That I'd been pretending the whole time to just have one… But when I told her she was wrong, she thought someone might have stole my appearance, disguised themselves as me and— fuck."

The hands falls down, but she doesn't sit up, putting her eyes up on the ceiling. "I guess knowing it's me— piece of me— is fucking better than someone stealing my face and walking around, but this…" Her raspy voice trails off, before she shifts her eyes to look at him. "I almost died trying to save Else. I got shot. I would've died if Peter hadn't saved me."

"And it bothers you that she would've been alive in your place?" Magnes asks, just taking a shot in the dark, offering a comforting hand again. "She had super strength, yeah. And what were you trying to save Else from?" he asks, before quickly adding, "And I met Peter around two nights ago."

"I don't really know," Gillian says quietly, sounding rather confused, really. Would she have been upset that a piece of her would have survived if Peter hadn't been able to save her? It reminds her of how it must feel for Winters now that Brian Fulk died— a piece of himself, his original self… forever lost. "It's hard to explain. But if we hadn't been there… if we hadn't interfered— Else would have been found dead. No one died, though. And…" she trails off. "How did you meet Peter?"

"All I can say is, and I really want you to consider this, find a way to merge with her. I hate seeing you in pain, even if it's not the real you." Magnes suggests, staring down at his unopened soda can. "I was at the Village Renaissance and saw a guy watching the building, so I flew over to see what he was doing. I didn't want some Humanis First person doing something. He said he was actually watching someone else who was watching the building, or something. After a while, he said he was Peter Petrelli, and well, I freaked out, pointed a gun at him, and asked him why he blew up Manhattan. Probably not the best control I've ever shown. He told me the truth about everything, stuff I can't tell you, so now I'm here wondering what's the point in anything."

"Really— he's watching the Village," Gillian repeats quietly, looking back up at the ceiling. There's a thoughtful look in her eyes, curiousity, but she seems to accept the whole— can't tell her well enough. There's a lot she's leaving out. All's fair. "I'm not sure how we'd get back together. If— if she's the clone I think she is… those were always far more independant. There were two types. One was pretty much… me. An extension of me. The other type it was… different. More seperate. Could still communicate, and when we merged I got everything that she did, but while we were seperate it was— she was on her own. Completely. Only small messages back and forth. Nothing else." She remembers one such message that the likely clone passed along— the last message… "I don't think there's any way at all to just… go back together."

"Yeah, he's watching, thinks they're all a bunch of murdering terrorists though, and that I shouldn't be like them. But I don't really see that staying on the agenda long… The only thing I have to say about your clone is to at least talk to her, she doesn't deserve to be on her own like that. I can take you to her when you want." Magnes sits up straight, his tone going deathly serious now. "I have a question. If there might be a way to stop whatever China is planning with their massive draft of Evolved, would you help me? I'd need you, you're essential."

"He thinks who is a bunch of murdering terrorists?" Gillian asks, finally sitting herself up and looking over at him with a surprised look. One that shows no sign of ending. Talk to her clone. Talk to herself… But not only that, stop China. China. A country of a billion people. "Are you insane, Magnes?" she finally outright asks. "I don't know anything about that. You want me to talk to myself, you want me to— I don't even know, fuck with another fucking nation?"

"The people who live in the Village building. I don't know, maybe he was trying to scare me away from that life." Magnes shrugs, but promptly focuses his attention on the subject of China again. "I know there's a billion people, it's their Evolved we need to worry about. I'm gonna ask around and see if there's any plans on the table, this needs to be nipped in the butt as soon as possible. If we just ignore it, then forget Humanis First in a year's time, maybe even a few month's time, we'll have an entire country's Evolved to deal with. This is another reason I have to get used to using my ability while augmented as soon as possible. I'm not sure what we'll end up having to do, but we'll need as many weapons as possible…"

"This is insane," Gillian says, standing up from the bed, even bending down and picking up her bag. "I don't want any of this. Why the hell can't I just have a normal fucking life? Why can't I just— god damnit," she mutters as she pulls her bag back up over her shoulder. "I'm not out to save the fucking god damn world, Magnes. I'm not a super hero. This isn't a comic book. I actually felt good about saving one person's life. And now you're making me feel like it wasn't enough, that it's all fucking worthless if I can't save the whole fucking country— the whole god damn world. Why the hell are you putting all of this on me?"

"I'm sorry, Gillian, I don't mean to, it's just…" Taking a breath, Magnes stands up to walk in front of her. "I feel like it's all on me again. Humanis First seems like it's being handled by Phoenix, eventually I'll track down the source of Refrain, but no one at all seems concerned about China amassing a freakin' army. I'm sorry Gillian, I didn' mean to make you feel obligated or something, you're not, you're really not, I don't even know why I think I am since all it does is stress me out. Can you forget I said anything? From now on when you come here, we can just chill out, no stressful stuff."

"No, it's— it's fine. I just… It feels like every other month it's just something else. The world's in danger. There's only so many times I can save the world— and I rarely feel like I even did anything good." Gillian shakes her head as she lets out a tired sigh. "I won't forget about that. There's really no way I can. I just don't know if I can keep doing all of this… I'll help you try to figure out how to use your ability with my augmentation— I might even help you out in whatever the fuck you want to do about China… but I don't— I just wish it didn't keep happening." Then she shakes her head. Refrain. Humanis First. Why doesn't anything just… "I should go. I'll come back later and… and then we can— I don't know. Fake my death, practice, meet my clone, talk about a Chinese army of Evolved, or whatever other shit you want. Cause it's never going to stop, is it?" She doesn't wait for the answer to that as she makes her way to the door, intent on leaving.

"No, wait, this is stupid, I shouldn't have dumped this all on you, I shouldn't be dumping this all on me, but especially not you. You don't deserve that, I'm sorry Gillian. Let me put on my shoes and get some things. Can you come in so I can do your makeup? I'm gonna take you somewhere special today." Magnes decides, having the sudden revelation that his friends need a break, especially Gillian at the moment. He heads to one of the bookcases and carefully slides it to the side, revealing a door behind it, which for some reason he was hiding. "Please stay and see what I'm gonna do?"
There's a sudden stop and Gillian looks back over, eyebrows pressing together. "Maybe you do put too much onto yourself," she manages after a moment, before selfconsciously touching her face. "You want to put make up on me? Are you serious? Cause I know you're not gay, so you don't seem like the make up type of guy, but…" What the hell is he even talking about. But she lets the bag drop, and she's stopped moving toward the door.

"Remember how I always say I'm putting on a costume when I go to a convention? Well, I'm really serious about costumes. And after what I told Claire the other day, I'd hope I'm not gay." Magnes laughs and opens the secret door, which is actually just a rather nicely sized storage room he's turned into… something else. There's a computer desk in the very end of the room, which a pretty large flat screen and various Refrain related websites all over it. The wall behind the computer area has lots of news reports about Refrain, and a little map of New York in the middle of it all with thumbtacks pressed into various locations and a mess of sticky notes. Clearly that back area is his little crime hub, but the really strange things are the left and right walls of the area, which is essentially two long rows of costumes. It ranges from superhero stuff, to various styles like punk, goth, weeaboo, and other sorts of things. For a guy he seems to own quite a few pairs of shoes under the costumes too, and there's makeup kits and wigs on the shelves above the clothing. "Welcome to my secret. I've been meaning to tell Claire, but we sort've get to the making out quickly and I forget completely."

As she moves to follow, Gillian looks at the computer for a long moment, the Refrain references, before moving on to the costumes, and then laughing a bit. "Welcome to the Magscave, huh?" she says softly, voice sounding amused. The gittery isn't completely gone, but at least she doesn't sound as completely distraught as she did for a moment at the idea of going against all of China. "Good to know you're not gay— but I knew you weren't. You're just— wanting to dress me up?" It surprises her in a completely different way than the stresses of moments ago. "What exactly do you want to dress me up as?"

"Harley Quinn, issue 9. I'll change you just enough so people won't get suspicious seeing you in public, and since it's Vegas and this isn't exactly a nationwide manhunt, you'll be fine." Magnes assures, reaching into the clothes to pull out a red dress with an imitation leopard skin jacket. There's a baggy with white gloves and a pair of glasses, but the dress is quite skimpy. He offers it up, and a photocopy of the comic is attached to the dress as well, mostly for reference. "You put that on and I'll do your wig and makeup, then I'll get ready."

There's a long look at the outfit, the dress especially, then the comic for reference. Gillian continues to be surprised, but she doesn't look entirely like she's going to say no. Until more things are processed, "Wait, did you say Vegas?"

"I'm taking you to Vegas, just for today. I want you to have fun and relax, you need it, Gillian." Magnes smiles and moves to place a free hand on her shoulder, looking down at her. "If not Vegas, I'll take you anywhere else, just name it. Forget all the world saving stuff just for today, and think about what you want."

"Magnes, it isn't that the idea isn't nice, I just— I have other things I need to do today," Gillian says with a glance toward the dress again. After a moment she puts everything down. "Small things, not saving the world things. I have animals that I still need to feed, a friend who is in a hospital bed… I can't just drop everything and run off to Vegas. That's a bit far for a day trip. You don't teleport, and there's no way we're going to fly there with a make up and a wig on and have it be completely intact." There's another pause, before she adds, "And it isn't what I want. I don't think there's any way you could give me what I want. Fuck, I'm not sure I'd even know how to get it for myself these days."

"Don't worry about it, Gillian, this hopefully isn't the last day of Earth, we can do this some other time." Magnes, attempting to assure her that he is indeed not upset, reaches up for a rather large makeup kit and a styrofoam head with the blonde wig on it. "I'm still gonna dress you up." he adds a bit mischiviously.

There's a moment's pause, before Gillian lets out a small laugh and nods quietly, "All right, all right. Nothing says I can walk around New York like this. I definitely do not want to dress like that on Staten Island unless you're wanting me to end up in a brothel somewhere." Cause she's pretty sure that's what would end up happening if she did. "Dress me up. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hold onto the wig for a bit either— especially if the cops are actually looking for me." Better than changing her whole face.

Grabbing the dress, Gillian finds out where she can change and says, "Let's hope this fits." It's the last thing she says before she disappears into the bathroom. When she emerges, the dress is on, but with her mangled tattoos it may not look quite as attractive as it should. She has a dragon, or what's supposed to be a dragon, on one of her breasts. The top part of it is visible over the red dress. "Maybe better not to wear this out," she notes. It doesn't fit perfectly, but it fits well enough.

"These next few seconds are not me copping a feel, I'm measuring." Magnes hunches down, gently tugging on a few parts of the dress as he goes around her in a circle, then stands up in front of her again. "I think I can make a few changes some time. And um, if your tattoos bother you that much, I can cover them up. You shouldn't be ashamed of scars, but if you're hiding you don't want identifying marks."

"I not ashamed of them, they're just… ruined," Gillian says with a shrug of her shoulders as she tightens her lips and waits for him to finish touching at her. No, not coping a feel, but it comes off as a little awkward, either way. "And yeah, they are identifying marks. I'm sure the police are looking for someone with my tattoos. Probably be best if I get rid of them for a while."

"I know someone who can handle your tattoos, get rid of them completely and fix them later with no needles at all. Don't tell her I told you when you meet her, I need to talk to her about it first." Magnes starts heading out to the living room with the kit and the wig, motioning his head for her to follow. "You interested? In the tattoos, I mean."

"I've been pointed at people before. I just haven't had the time, and the few times I stopped into the place, they weren't open. I have bad timing," Gillian says, but the description rings bells. "Sounds like the woman Cardinal wanted me to meet, too. Said she was the best tattoo artist in the whole world." It's said as she follows after him, before she shrugs just a bit, one shoulder, head tilting to the side. "Course I am. I had thirteen of them." Not anymore.

"Proof." Magnes sits on the Superman bean bag, waiting for her to take a seat on the Batman one. The proof, of course, is shown when he lifts his shirt, showing the modest dragon tattoo swirling around his his belly button, IE: His Center… being a gravity manipulator and all. "She did this, no needles at all."

"If that's her, then if I ever manage to find her, I'll be glad to get some of my tattoos fixed. Until then, I'll just have to deal with it," Gillian says, sitting down on the Batman one with a sigh. There's a sudden grunt before she has to adjust her legs, and put her hands over the skirt. "This dress is not made for beanbags," she notes.

"Sorry, I don't exactly wear those things after I make them." Magnes opens the kit, which is pretty impressive for a guy to have. There's a shade of black lipstick, that seems to have just a hint of red, then he leans forward to carefully apply it to her lips. "You know, before I met Claire and really got a feel for it, I wasn't sure what kissable lips meant. But now, I have to say, you've got them."

There's a pause, before Gillian gives her head a bit of a shake. "Magnes, you don't want to flirt with me right now. It's not fair. This is this just— seriously, don't." Once again, she sounds and looks rather upset, even moving back from the black lipstick a bit. "Flirting is really not fair to me. You have a fucking girlfriend. I never let you pretend like we were anything except friends, so don't. If you're going to keep doing that, then I should get changed and leave."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. I mean, I thought it was harmless since you don't have an interest in me… I mean, you don't, right?" Magnes asks, suddenly unsure. He's certainly never been on the other side of a crush before, unless Delilah and Isabelle's declarations that they would 'teach' him count at all. "I won't do it again, don't worry. I wouldn't have in the beginning if I thought it made you uncomfortable."

"It's just… bad timing," Gillian admits quietly, glancing away for a moment, a bit of anger showing up on her forehead. "If you didn't have a girlfriend and wanted something one time and never again, then this would've been a great time to make with the flirting." The way she says it is pretty brutally honest, and without much real shame, except… "That wouldn't be fair to you. But— it's true. And since you got a girlfriend, it's better not to— do that." The price of being lonely. There's something rather vulnerable about her for a moment. "Do you think it'd be okay if I borrowed the wig?"

"I— well, god, Gillian. Trust me, if there's five women on Earth that I'd want to… but you deserve more than a one time thing, and I wouldn't take advantage of however bad you're feeling right now, even if I were single." Magnes explains quite sympathetically, but understanding. When her lips are done, he reaches for an eye liner brush and a bottle of temporary blonde dye. "Close your eyes, I'm gonna make your eyebrows match the wig, and sure, you can borrow it. I made the costume for someone I can't really remember, I think it's the person who gave me the weird burns on my arm."

"You really think you'd be the one taking advantage of me?" Gillian says with a hint of a laugh, before she closes her eyes to allow him to play with her eyebrows and push her closer to being a convincing blonde. "I'd be taking more advantage of you in that case. Cause I got enough experience to know the difference between a good fuck and something more than that." There's a hesitation before she adds on, "And right now I don't want anything more than that." The way her voice trails off there might mean there could be more behind those words, but they're still brutally honest. "I'm actually trying to spare you from fucking up whatever it is you got with your girlfriend." The burns on his arm… she touches the skirt and tugs at it. "Explains why the dress isn't quite the right size. I'm probably going to leave it here and just borrow the wig and make up. It's not something I want to walk around wearing."

"You don't have to worry about me screwing up, there's no way in hell I'd hurt Claire. It was hard enough telling Claire I wanted to sleep with her, I don't think I could do anything with a girl I'm not even dating. But, um, what is the difference?" Magnes starts to carefully apply the dye, the writer clearly knowing nothing about makeup, but a master of total bullshit. The eyeliner brush carefully glides through the strands of her eyebrows, then once he's done, he softly blows and slides his tools back into the box. "Alright, now we need dark eyeshadow, that'll take the attention away from your dark eyelashes, since I'm sure you don't wanna cut them off. They're there for a reason, y'know."

"If you're not even sure you can sleep with a girl you're dating, then… we're not having this conversation," Gillian says with a quiet laugh. She'll keep her eyes closed. "Even blonde women want dark eyelashes. That's why they wear mascara. No one will notice, but dark eyeshadow works great too," she explains on at the end, so he knows not to worry about that.

"Hey, I'm totally sure, I told her that, but it was the actually saying it that was hard. Took my therapist to actually convince me that saying it was a good idea." Magnes starts to lightly brush over her eyelids, trying to keep the distribution even, squinting in closely. "This is stupid, but, you actually find me attractive? I mean, that's just so hard to believe, you're, you."

"Right now I'd probably find anything with a penis attractive. The closest thing I'm getting to a good fuck is all in my head," Gillian says with a smile that makes dimples appear. Only when she's able to lean back a bit does she give her head a shake. "But for the record, even if I wasn't incredibly lonely and wanting something… you're attractive enough. Don't let it go to your head," she reaches over and pushes against his shoulder a bit. "Either of them."

"It's so weird hearing you talk like that, out loud. I think I'd die of shock if Claire did." Magnes laughs, pulling his hand back from her eyes, reviewing his work. "You can change to something other than the Batman DVD if you want, I'm sure you don't wanna watch that while I'm doing your tattoo makeup. I'll try and show you how to do it yourself, that way you can keep up a cover."

"Don't worry about the tattoo make up right now," Gillian says, moving to sit up, then pausing, as if thinking of something. "Actually, let me get changed back into my clothes, so you just have to do my arms. I think touching up my boob would probably be more than your girlfriend would like you to do. Especially since I do talk to dirty for you." It takes a few careful moments before she can get to her feet all the way, without flashing underwear at him. The dress isn't made for doing much, honestly. "But yeah, while I get changed, put on something a little less geeky, if you can. Something actiony. Can even be action geeky, just not too geeky." With that said, she'll disappear to get back into her quasi goth clothes, and then get make up applied to visible tattoos on her arms. Then a blonde Gillian will walk out of the apartment.

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