maskormenacelogs | things just happen so much don't they

Oh, sure. [that gentle talking-kindly-to-crazies voice.

beat.]

Alright, fine. [she plops onto the couch.] I’ll just borrow your arm then.

My arm?

[Darin scoots closer and holds an arm out for her.]

You put makeup on your arm??

Is this to hide like...dry elbows?

[she makes a face.]

That's what lotion and sleeves are for. No--I'm just. Using your arm to avoid having to use your face. It's less annoying for you and I'm being considerate, alright?

Oh...alright.

[He holds both arms out for her to start doing her tests.]

So...what exactly is it you're trying to figure out?

[she dumps the array of tubes and little bottles into her lap, picking through a handful.]

I'm trying to match the base ones up with a secondary application. It's what the advice magazines said to do.

[with a slight note of irritation as she arranges on the table atop his notebook:] Honestly, if things are so technologically superior here, why not just make one that works on its own enough? Besides ripping people off for more money, that is...

Secondary? What do you need a secondary application for? What was the advice even for?

...You're really into this cosmetic stuff, aren't you.

Acne, Darin. And other egregious blemishes. Like excessive freckling. Which, you know-- [she points at her face while wearing a sardonic look before picking up a pair and squinting at them. they seem close enough, but who knows. they're named really stupid, pretentious things. so elvish! let's try.

she dabs some of the cream onto two fingers and drags it along his forearm, leaving a pale streak, then grabs a tissue before doing likewise with the second.]

I hope you're at least somewhat aware that lots of girls spend lots of time making sure they look presentable, compared to just rolling out of bed face-first and trudging through the day.

...You want to cover up your freckles? You don't like them?

And yeah, trust me, I know girls make an appoint to put on make-up but I always thought it was meant to...well...

Enhance rather than mask.

It can be both, you know. [she picks up the next two, making streaks alongside the first.] Masks can be improvements, after all.

Besides, when's the last time heaps of freckles was considered ideal at all? Not really often or ever, thank you. I read enough to know that. I bet you watch enough TV to know that, too.

Well, yeah masks can be improvements but they’re improvements based on a lie. You’re just showing the world what they want to see, not who you really are.

[He knows a thing or two about masks.]

If you don’t see a lot of people with freckles, isn’t that just a sign that you’re unique though? I mean, I don’t see people with blue hair on television and I’m not running off to dye it.

Yeah, well! Well, good for you. [she smears some of the streaks together, scowling. some of these don't blend at all!!! shocking! being different brands and such.]

Didn't sticking out mean getting rocks thrown at you? Unique isn't always a good thing. You know that.

[Darin chuckles.]

You’re right! Kids threw rocks at me. And I hated it. When I was ten I tried to cut all of my hair off only to realize I would have to shave my eyebrows too and I’d look even weirder.

Also, trying to cut your own hair at ten years old?

Wouldn’t recommend it.

But after my old man found me and got a good laugh, he told me something that’s stuck with me all my life.

He told me [Darin puffs out his chest and takes on a gruff accent. Cecelia might inadvertently mistake it for dwarven] “If’n the gods saw fit t’bless ye with something only you have, make it so th’world remembers ye for it.”

[she at least stops what she's doing so he can do his little mimic, her eyebrow quirked. her eyes quickly flicker back down when the display is over.]

While I can appreciate the sentiment, I'd rather not be remembered as looking like someone spilled pepper on a potato. I'm sure you understand. [from her tone, she's sure he doesn't.]

That isn't how you look, Cecelia.

[mutter mumble:] Yeah, tell that to half of homeroom. [she huffs a little, wiping her fingers off again.]

...People at school are making fun of you?

That's what people at school do, Darin. That's what happens when people are confined to the same space to do repetitive things when they'd rather be somewhere else. It's just a thing! [smear smear.] It's irritating, of course, but not exactly, like, a unique situation to be in. Even the dramas on the TV cover that!

Sorry, but if it was "just a thing" then you wouldn't have instantly recalled something so specific that they said about you.

[He's silent for a few minutes and watches Cecelia smear more and more product up and down his arms.]

...Is it a few people in particular? Calling you these things?

[with a dry laugh:] What, are you gonna show up at the school and rattle a few collars? Defend my honor or whatever? I don't think that'll go the way you'd want.

No, because first off, that's just more bullying just with a bigger dog, and second off, maybe there's more to this.

I'm not trying to be your hero, Cece. Just...a friend who cares about you.

[nbhrghthmhngh. she keeps her eyes fixed down.

mumble:] Yeah, well. I. Guess I appreciate that.

...Listen, I know it's not easy. You're locked in a weird sort of...blank space. Stand your ground and you risk being a bigger target. Speak up and give them the acknowledgement that they're winning. Say nothing and that's akin to just...accepting what they say and do.

I can help. Or...at least...give you some advice. But if you don't want to hear it, I understand. Believe me, I've been there.

[head dipping down a bit more:] I just wanna look nice, alright? [huff.] Here, I'm done--see? Those two. They blend enough to suit. The rest are garbage. [she grabs a handful of tissues and scrubs at his arm.] Just garbage, honestly. What a racket...

[For some reason, Darin can't help but feel like every time she says 'garbage' she isn't referring to the make up. But he can tell her agitation is beginning to spike, and pressing the issue now would just cause her to retreat into her room in a huff.]

[So he looks at the two she mentioned on his arm as she scrubs away the make up.]

You know, I wish I had an option like this when I was younger for the scar across my back. But it's not exactly practical to put make up on your back, is it.

Nnnno...I mean, there's shirts, so? Why would you? It'd just get messy and--

[she stops, blinking.]

Is this a rash? I'm not scrubbing hard, am I?

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