i know this crazy life can be a bitter pill to swallow, so forget about tomorrow

[cons]

CHARACTERS: Wichita & VARIOUS
LOCATION: ..various.
WARNINGS: mostly language, but there's nothing hideous planned so far.
SUMMARY: takes place over the next week, so the 16th to the 22nd
NOTES: I'll be adding threads to this base post, so. no cut. right. if you want a thread with Wichita! ping me here by leaving a starter comment, or! catch me on plurk so we can plannn. pickpockets

Comments

[handelaar]

[So. Clippers.

Netherlands is standing in the 002 restrooms, in front of the line of mirrored sinks, looking at an innocuous pair of hair clippers like they might just come to life and buzz his eyebrows right off. On - bzzzt - off. On, off. There's a row of guards laid out across the counter like so many points on a map and he can't seem to figure out which one should should be perched atop the thing he's holding.

The fuck are these space measurements, man. For that matter, the fuck are clippers and how does he use them.

He's not about to try it out, untested, on his precious but way-too-long hair, which means... Yeah, he's got his shirt off and is trying out the different guards on his chest hair. Probably something he should be doing in the privacy of his room, but since when did he give a fuck about decorum.

It's all organized, of course, each stripe corresponding to the placement of its guard upon the counter. No use if he can't remember which guard is the one he wants to use.]

[cons]

[ this is probably a dick move. ..okay it definitely is. but Wichita's currently waiting in one of the stalls of the bathroom, after facing that moment when she's all done with her business, and she's about to open the stall door and go wash her hands and go on her merry way, but then someone comes in and breaks the norm by not going straight into a stall. so she avoids the awkward "hello, I just peed" greeting that comes with bathroom interactions by deciding to wait it out. like a ninja, she waits, silently, watching through the crack in the door to see what he's doing, judge when he'll leave.

but now it's been literally five minutes, maybe six. she's been waiting way too long. it's too awkward to come out and make herself known because he's going to know that she's been standing there waiting that whole time and just the thought of that makes her laugh, more than anything she's stood there watching this whole time. it's just one burst of a laugh, and then she's lifting her arm to she can press her smile into the crook of her elbow, trying to muffle the sound. her eyes squeeze shut, oh god you idiot, she can't pull herself together.

but she's not coming out of the stall yet either.

maybe he'll be embarrassed and leave.

which is mean ( dick move, like I said ) but it's better than trying to explain no I was not laughing at your chest hair ]

[handelaar]

[That... is a laugh. He blinks and jerks his head up to the mirror - the way this place echoes it's impossible to tell where it came from and for all he knows it could be from right behind him - sees that it didn't. Or if it did it's from below the line of the mirror, which is the next place his eyes snap to and unfortunately he nearly shaves off his nipple in the process.]

Fuck - !

[And the trimmer falls into the sink with a clatter, buzzes and chatters around and makes a horrible racket that is ten times worse with the echo. Who the hell thought that making cathedral-like restrooms was a good idea, anyway. After a remarkably pissy scowl sent the way of the clippers he cautiously makes a grab for them, snatches them up, turns them off with a huff.]

Who's there.

[The tail end of it comes out as more of a question than he'd like. He's not sure if someone is actually there or if he's hearing things - while he doesn't have access to his mask any longer, he wouldn't put it past the damn thing to do some fucked up things down the line.]

sdkfjdbfg omg

[cons]

[ noooo none of that is making it any easier for Wichita to stop laughing, although it isn't really getting any louder at least. at first. just muffled chuckles into her sleeve. and she's not sure why she thought opening her eyes again to look through the crack in the door was going to make it any better, because now she can see him scrambling to try and get the clipper out of the sink, and once the sound is cut short, she's already completely given up on hiding her laugh.

but alright, alright. she has to face this like a big girl. right. just come out of the stall and explain.

because really, she's not the one that was just man-scaping in a public bathroom, so. who's worse off here?

the door creeks as she unlocks it and pushes it open, and she holds both hands up like he's got a deadly weapon, a bright smirk on her face. at least she's not laughing now?? ]

I'm sorry. [ so much for not laughing ] I mean it. God, I'm sorry I freaked you out. I was just in here and then- I heard you, but then you didn't leave and I didn't want to make it awkward but- just- [ sighs! and gestures at the clipper in his hand ] What the hell are you doing? Like, what- what's going on here? I only ask because I can help, if you want. ..Not if you're just trying to shave your chest, that's- [ WICHITA STOP LAUGHING ] -that's not something I'm going to help with. But are you thinking about giving yourself a trim? Cause that I can do. It'll be penance for hiding out like a creep.

already a disaster wow

[handelaar]

[Someone is actually there, and fuck him that someone talks more than Denmark. What starts out as a huffy glare when she steps out smirking at him slides into stright-up unamused, then a little confused because goddamn who even talks this much - every time he opens his mouth to answer something he has to snap it shut again - and then. Uh.

Just. Wat. He stands there like a startled deer, mouth pursed open, blinking, with the clippers still held out from him like they're going to bite him, as the rest of that washes over him and he attempts to absorb everything at once and line up his answers and keep up all at the same time. She finally stops and immediately he spits out the first thing that comes to mind just in case she starts up again.]

You talk too damn much. [Huff. He shifts his weight to his other foot and glances down at the clippers, offer only just sinking in.] I'm, uh - ya cut hair?

[There's still some of that startled-deer look going on, edging into apprehension as he chews on his lip. Because, yeah, that's what he was testing, but the idea of someone touching his hair... on the other hand, free cut.]

b e a u t i f u l disaster

[cons]

[ she's perfectly aware of the way she keeps cutting him off, but she's sure if she lets him get a word in before she's gotten this all out, she'll end up bursting with laughter again which is even worse than rambling, on a scale of Things That Are Awkward. however, him just telling her that she talks too much makes her roll her eyes and shake her head. okay, enough, enough. she walks over to stand in front of the sink beside his, washing her hands and looking in the mirror to see how her own hair is holding up, even as she continues talking to him. ]

I do, in fact, cut hair. Well, I've cut a few heads of hair in my day. [ she trimmed her sister's bangs back home, then cut Neal's hair here, then Brendan's, then- well, more than enough people to get her some haircutting street cred, if he's truly concerned here ] Don't ask me to restyle it, I just cut along the same thing you had going before it.. grew out. [ now she'll look over, as she's flicking the water off her hands in the opposite direction ] Up to you.

UGH WOW SORRY HOLIDAYS GOT NUTS

[handelaar]

With - [Here he waves the clippers around, still like they're going to come to life and bite him. Dude might look like he's late-20's but he is actually a grumpy old man all stuck in his straight-razor and scissors ways and what is this newfangled technology.]

With these. Things. [Aaaaand a huff.] I don't want ya to style it. At all.

[Of course now he's pursing his lips like a high school freshman who doesn't particularly like this homework assignment, except for the fact that he's looking at her like she's the homework assignment.]

Or grab it. Or, uh. Touch it too much.

[Can she tell he's neurotic about his hair yet? Because he's neurotic about his hair. And neurotic over everything else too, but especially the hair.]

[cons]

So you want me to cut it, but I'm not allowed to touch it. Too much.

[ AMUSED!! ]

I'm not sure how well that's going to work out.

[handelaar]

[HUFF. Again.]

Yeah. It'd work out fine if ya stopped laughing long enough to think about it.

[... so maybe he's sulking, what of it.]

scREAM I'M SO SORRY

[cons]

Okay, okay, okay. Let's just do this before you have some sort of conniption.

[ she's reaching for the buzzer now, sirrrr-- no wait. wait. ]

... You should probably rinse the blade off first.

IT'S FINE

[handelaar]

... right.

[With that he nods and rinses the clippers in the sink, efficient but maybe taking too much care to ensure that they're perfectly clean. He's not familiar with clippers okay. But with that done he frowns at it in his hand, approves, and wipes it off with a nearby towel before handing them over and throwing the towel over his shoulders.

Yeah he needs to sit somewhere, he's too tall for this. He casts around for a chair, and, not seeing one immediately points to the floor and raises his brow. Should he just - sit?]

[cons]

Uhh.

[ sitting on the floor doesn't seem appealing at all. and she wouldn't be able to stand over him, he'd be too low. hn. ]

I- Let me go grab a chair from the kitchen, I'll be two minutes.

[ this is her way of feeling better after laughing at him ok. she holds up a finger, then leaves, making straight for the kitchen so she can grab another chair. ( another because she already has one in her room heh. a few minutes later she's hobbling back into the bathroom, and plunks it down in front of the mirror ]

There! Sit. ..Please.