maskormenacelogs | ( closed ) London calling to the zombies of death

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( closed ) London calling to the zombies of death

WHO: Sarissa & Sarah.
WHERE: Casa de Chaos, Heropa.
WHEN: Halloween
WHAT: super amazing and awesome costume preparations
WARNINGS: default language warning, anything else to be added.

( Sarissa's only just made it out of the shower when she hears the door opening - cause for a alarm, potentially, except that she'd fully anticipate the sound of the door swinging open to be accompanied by Sarah's voice about eighty percent of the time even if she didn't have a key. Call it chaos twin intuition.

She's wrapped up in a towel and ruffling her hair - falling in heavy, wet waves instead of its normal tamed straightness - with another towel as she pads across the wooden floors and in Sarah's direction. )

Hey hey.

( Mendel is sitting in his aviary, one claw grasping the perch as he holds onto some apple with the other, and Sarissa pauses to make clicky sounds at him before resuming her wander towards Sarah. He may or may not be wearing a pirate hat, and Sarissa may think it's simultaneously adorable and terrible. )

Ready for the most pointless holiday of them all? ( Ah, yes. The Scrooge of Halloween is afoot. Just as well Cosima is the one organising things - or any clone, for that matter - otherwise she'd probably refuse to comply at all. )

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[ Sarah's got her costume on already, which is to say that her hair is straightened and instead of wearing an ensemble mostly made of leather and ripped fabric, she's got on a button up and regular jeans. Very respectable. It's making her feel weird, to be honest, like she's gone back to pretending to be Beth. All that's missing is the badge and gun.

She laughs when she sees Mendel's little hat, though, and even harder when she sees how unenthusiastic Sarissa is about this whole thing. ]

Shit, I thought hating this kinda thing was my job. [ Because Cosima had seemed pretty convinced that Sarah would try to get out of coming to this party, and because she knows she gives off that general vibe of not being agreeable to most "fun" things, even if it's not really the truth. ] Come on, Halloween's just as pointless as any other holiday.

I'm in character, ( Sarissa replies very flatly before actually... registering what Sarah's wearing. And laughing. ) Holy shit, Sarah.

( No, just give her a minute, she's going to circle her for a second, reaching out so that her fingers trail through the ends of Sarah's hair. ) Listen, my only real memories of Halloween involve breaking up parties of adults binge drinking with their make up melting off their faces. This, though, I'll admit is pretty good.

( The towel she's been using to ruffle her hair dry - and wilder, at the same time - is slung over her shoulder so she can set on hand on her hip and pensively rub her jaw. ) I didn't know you owned jeans without holes. Is it a weird experience for you, or are you coping okay?

I dressed like this when I was pretending to be Beth. I'm pretty used to it. [ As soon as the words are out, she regrets them, but she tries to cover up her apprehension with a joke. There's no need to make things heavy on a night like tonight. ] Are the boring clothes a standard cop thing, or what?

[ She sits down near Mendel's aviary and wiggles her fingers at him, speaking over her shoulder to Sarissa. ] Come on, Halloween's fun. Let's hear your Sarah accent, yeah?

( It's a strange kind of sting, mention of Beth, the way it wasn't the first time she heard about her. When Sarah called her Beth, it had been... complicated. Difficult, yeah, especially learning what Sarah did, but it hadn't hurt. Now there's an odd kind of pain to it. Beth had been a clone. She'd been their cop, their protection. She'd been real and important, enough for Sarah to be bloody haunted by her.

And Sarissa? She didn't even belong in that world, did she?

She smiles, though, and ignores the feeling of Doom. ) Lulling people into a false sense of security. Button down shirts in the streets, corsetry in the sheets. Except without any corsets. Or dressing up— you know what, just forget that, pretend I said something witty.

( Someone, help her. Sarissa rolls her shoulders, and tries to get in the zone. ) Uh, okay, Sarah accent. Blimey, pip pip, Mary Poppins. Cosima, stop being so science. Union Jack. The Clash. Knock knock jokes aren't punk.

( I mean, it could be worse, accent wise. It could also be... better. )

Could use some work.

[ Sarah looks at her, managing to keep a straight face, for all of three seconds before she bursts out laughing. She knows that Felix trained Alison to speak like her, that time Alison had to trick Mrs. S, but she doesn't have any idea about how he managed it. Accents—acting—comes more naturally to her than to most people, she knows. ]

Try—uh... shit, like, you've gotta sound more aggressive. Does that makes sense? Less Mary Poppins.

I'd like to see you trying to sound Australian, ( she notes, huffing out a breath. Sarissa takes a second to ruffle her hair some more, so it's starting to look pretty wild even against Sarah's usual lion mane.

Inhale; exhale. ) Oi. Gimme that beer or... I'll stab your kidney? ( Okay, no, she can't do this at all, Sarissa just starts laughing, slipping out of the attempt at an accent. )

Come on, want a beer? I should put some clothes on, otherwise you'll have to just go dressed in a towel to pull off being like me at all.

Closer. [ Sarah sprawls out on the couch, relaxing. She's trying out Sarissa's accent, easing herself into it a little at a time. She's never had to do an Australian accent before, or bothered to try and fake one. Her natural inclination is to clip her words, not draw them out. ] Yeah, I'll have a beer. Beer. I'll have a beer.

[ It could be better, but it's not terrible for one she's never practiced before. She makes a face, embarrassed anyway. ] I'm better at doing a Canadian one. Or, like, German. Or a posh English.

German, really?

( Thinking for a second, she tilts her head as she grabs a couple of bottles and lets the fridge slam shut a little dramatically. )

I got your broader accent, yeah? I mean, there's like three types. Doesn't break up so much by region, more like your class? If Cosima was Aussie she'd probably sound general Aussie, Alison'd be cultivated. I'm a working class mongrel, so I'm your stereotypical Crocodile Dundee sort. Like, uh— like might or bite. Your cultivated Aussie'd make it sound more like the back-half of "buy." Me, it'd be more like "boy."

( And, now at the sofa, she hands a bottle - cap removed - to Sarah. )

In beer you gotta put more on the 'e' than the 'r'. Beeehhr.

Ja.

[ Sarah takes the beer and drinks, watching Mendel as he eats his apple slice. ] Yeah, alright. Beer. [ She makes a "meh" face, then shrugs her shoulders a bit. ]

Well, maybe I can fool the kid. [ She sounds resigned to her mediocre Australian accent. A big part of her, though, is looking forward to Cosima's look of disappointment when they walk in not wearing costumes, and then her happiness when she realizes they are. Even if it's just for a minute, the joke will be worth it. ]

I reckon we can hold it together long enough to make her do that pouty thing. You know, the raised eyebrows with the head tilt when she looks like you took away a chocolate bar that you promised her? A science chocolate bar.

( A swig of her beer, and she very gently taps Sarah's shoulder with a backwards snap of her hand. )

Gimme five. I'll be right back. Might need your help with the eyeliner, though, otherwise I'll go too far and look like a panda or something.

Yeah, and I won't let you out of this flat if you do.

[ Sarah waves with her beer as Sarissa disappears into the other room. Sarissa seems, if not eager, at least less resigned to the concept of this Halloween party, and that's good. ]

Crushing my hopes and dreams, Champion.

( Called out, as she disappears for a few minutes. There's the sound of a blow dryer, possibly very loud swearing as Sarissa stubs her toe, and then a short time later, she emerges. The jeans are messy, torn up things, and the black boots are battered - ones she wears for work, more often than not. Possibly the top half looks a little... bulky and stiff, though, Sarissa holding her arms slightly awkwardly. The leather jacket isn't sitting quite right - more on that, later. Her hair is just a little wavier than Sarah's would normally be, but she seems at least passably Sarah. )

Oi, what d'you think? ( And the accent has improved, fractionally, as she tosses a make up bag towards Sarah. )

You look pretty hot, actually. [ Sarah grins as she catches the bag, sits up straighter, and pats the spot next to her. ] Relax your arms, though, you look like you don't know what to do with 'em.

[ She opens the makeup bag and digs around until she finds some black eyeliner and eye shadow. She's debating forcing Sarissa to put on some lip gloss, but she doesn't want to overdo it. Then again, they are going to a party, even if it's a family-only party. ]

( The look she gives Sarah is along the lines of Sarah, please. )

I always look hot.

( Now that's been clarified, she decides to take off the jacket. Or— well.

She unzips it, and somehow shrugs it off when her movements are limited, only to reveal... another leather jacket. ) Yeah, well, I might have to save this punchline for later.

( But she flops onto the sofa next to Sarah, once she's dropped it over the back of the sofa. ) How do you feel about some fake tan lines? For authenticity?

[ Sarah doesn't say anything as Sarissa takes off the first jacket. She only squints, wrinkling her nose as if to convey how offended she is by expression alone. ] Very funny, [ she says finally, deadpan, and goes back to digging through the makeup.

Actually, it is pretty funny, but she'll never admit to it. Sarissa's ego is already big enough. ] Yeah, authentic tan lines, go for it.

( Excuse you, her ego is perfectly fine. She beams at Sarah, obnoxious as always, and catches her left wrist to start drawing on the tragic lines left by Sarissa's extant watch. RIP, portable wrist clock, you served her well. )

Probably we should pick up some beers for you to walk in with. ( Well. )

Or wine, since it's at Tiger's. ( She likes to take gifts when people invite her over for things, don't judge her. )

We'll pass a place on the way over. [ Sarah, on the other hand, isn't too concerned about bringing gifts when she visits somebody. Usually it's because she's broke, and why the hell would she bring someone a gift when she can't even buy herself one, but she's not opposed now that she can afford it. It's still not her first instinct, though.

Once Sarissa's got the tan line painted on, Sarah uncaps some charcoal eye shadow. ] Close your eyes.

( Sarissa eyes the eyeshadow cautiously. )

Right. Okay, yeah.

( Ready to take a bullet for Sarah, possibly not ready to let her do her eyeshadow. She scoots a little closer, and shuts her eyes somewhat obediently. )

Just remember that I love and respect you and that if I look terrible it'll reflect badly on both of us.

Oh, shut up.

[ Sarah starts to apply the eye shadow, lightly and making sure it's a bit smudged. ] The trick is not to be too neat. You wanna make it look like you just rolled out of someone else's bed, yeah?

What.

( Somehow she just managed to make that into a two syllable word. )

Sleeping in someone else's bed? I've no idea what you mean.

Scandalous, I know.

[ She finishes up one eye and moves to the other one. Her voice is quiet in that half-relaxed, half-concentrating way as she spreads the eye shadow. ]

Me and Felix used to do each other's makeup like this.

I need some pearls so I can clutch them. I might need some bleedin' smelling salts.

( She smiles at the mention of Felix. Sure, she'd not known him long, but she liked him a lot from what she did get to know. )

Hope that means he gave you glittery eyeshadow. I bet you'd rock it.

You know he did.

[ Sarah's smile is a little sad, not that Sarissa can see it. She misses Felix. He should be here, helping them get ready. She places the eye shadow back into the bag and takes out the eyeliner. ] Almost done.

Oh, yeah. ( All ridiculous teasing and smugness, somehow, in those two syllables. There's a beat of silence, and then Sarissa reviews, tone a lot gentler. ) I'm sorry I didn't get to know him better.

( Flawless Felix. Ridiculous crocodile argument aside - included, really - he seemed like a really great guy. And even if she'd not met him, anyone who meant that much to Sarah was someone she wanted to know. )

I hope I'm dazzlingly attractive.

Well, you look like me, so yeah, I'd say you're dazzlingly attractive.

[ Sarah does some quick eyeliner smudges on both of Sarissa's eyes, and then caps the pen and puts it back in the makeup bag. It's weird, seeing her own face, makeup and all, on someone else. Every time she thinks she's gotten used to the clone thing (or... the clone-ish thing, in Sarissa's case), something proves her wrong. ] Check it out.

Course. Stupid question.

( Wasn't even a question, but she pushes herself up off the sofa, and wanders to the mirror in the hall, before laughing. ) Holy shite.

( See, she has picked up something over the past eight months. ) Fine, I admit it. You're the hot one. Jesus Christ.

( Wandering back to the sofa, she leans over the back of it to press a ridiculous kiss to Sarah's temple. ) Thanks, Champ.

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( closed ) London calling to the zombies of death

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