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JP Lt Corliss Fortune & Lt(jg) Loxley - Hair Day


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Just a lovely, quiet sim for shore leave that made me smile.

Caution: Sweetness overdose risk!

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((Corliss and Loxley’s Quarters, Deck 5, USS Gorkon))
 
 
Large bristle brush. Styling scissors (the nice ones with a gold trim). Fine-tooth comb. Tea tree oil. A small red candle that smelled of Revann, bringing her mind to a forest, fresh air and nature abounding. She inhaled, grinning. Amongst all other ways, this truly was her favorite of stress relief.
 
Trimming her hair.
 
Which, astoundingly, seemed to have grown the last time she had undone her braid (or perhaps it had always been this long, and she was just now able to take the time to notice). It appeared to reach just below her waist in long blonde strands, curling just a little at the ends. One hand brushed through from the top of her head towards her shoulder with a sigh. Fiddling with her wigs always gave her a sense of calm, but nomoreso than her own hair did. 
 
But it needed a little TLC to get back in the ring!
 
Today she wore just a simple tank top and shorts, a far cry from her normal exuberant outfits. But one had to be comfortable when sitting for a long period of time! She hummed, picking up some of the oil and coating her fingers in it.
 
Fortune: Computer. Play The Waltz of Tours.
 
A grand string of instruments started to swell, and she hummed along. She had once seen a band play it as a child, and had adored the song ever since. It was slow and comforting, with a swell of music towards the end. She clicked her tongue, stroking her fingers through her hair, pulling a section from over her shoulder to in front of her. Ah, her bangs were a sight as well, honestly. She took up the brush, slowly combing the oil through the strands of hair, her fingers riding along the waves made by it.
 
The door opened just as she was mid-brush, her head tilted to the side as if weighted down by it, one leg balanced on the chair as the other tapped the tune on the floor. She perked up, waving the brush after pulling it from her hair.
 
Fortune: Loxley!
 
Loxley: Corliss! ::He waved back in mock over-enthusiasm:: What am I walking into here?
 
Fortune: Little bit of a hair day. Salon. Something. I had some nail polish out but I may not do that. ::she ran her fingers through her hair, ruffling over the top of her head with a tut before grinning at him.:: Would you like to experience the teachings of the Corliss School for Hair?
 
Lox smiled back. He’d never gotten around to asking Corliss about her wigs. He knew they weren’t for vanity. They might be purely for fun, though. But it was only an idle curiosity on his part - he knew that if it was something important, she’d tell him. That’s how these things worked.
 
Loxley: The Corliss School for Hair? ::he lifted his cap off and tousled his own tangled mess:: I don’t think mine is anything like as luxurient as yours. Or as long… wow, that IS long!
 
Fortune: Hah! I’ve been growing it since I was a child. ::she held up a lock, the ends curling slightly at her touch.:: I’ve yet to really cut it in its entirety, and I’d loathe to do it now.
 
Loxley: By all means, m’lday, do your worst. Wait, no, your best. I mean do your best. 
 
Fortune: Best, worst, same same. ::she wiggled her scissors in the air before vacating her chair, patting the headrest.:: Sit, sit! Anything in mind specifically?
 
Loxley: I used to have hairstyles when I was younger. Always trying to find the one that would actually make me look ‘cool’. But none of them did, so now when I go to the barbers I just settle for coming out with shorter hair.
 
Fortune: ‘Cool’ you say? Very subjective. ::she pointed her scissors at him, a hand on her hip with a grin.:: I shall do my utmost best. Plus, you can see it in the mirror and judge as you please.
 
She waved her scissors at the seat again, before leaning to grab up the comb, mumbling to herself a moment and trading out instruments before straightening up with a small spritz bottle and a see-through cape.
 
Fortune: Wetting the hair makes it all flat and easy to handle. Ready?
 
Loxley: No, but when has that ever stopped me?
 
Lox took the seat, mildly worried that the scissor gesture could turn into a threat if he didn’t. The smell of tea tree oil still hung in the air, pleasantly refreshing.
 
Loxley: So, just a short back and sides, right? Or am I not going to escape that easily?
 
Fortune: Oh no! We’re going to do this intricately. ::she snipped at the air, grinning.:: May take a bit longer than just that.
 
Loxley: Just as long as I don’t end up with a perm. And watch out for the ears - they’re bigger than you think.
 
She hid a chuckle, nodding for now as she pulled a crinkly plastic bib around his shoulders, humming along. With a spritz of water to his hair, it was time to begin. Lox squinted as the spray bottle created a fine mist around his head, his bright ginger hair turning a much darker, duller shade with the damp.
 
Fortune: Hmm...let’s see.
 
With a simple twist of the comb, she started running it through the wet strands easily. A few here and there were unevenly grown, but with a simple snip it took care of those. She hummed along to the music, her mouth moving as if talking to herself for a moment before clicking her tongue along with another snip, a small bit of hair falling prey to her scissors once more.
 
Lox smiled up at Corliss’s reflection as she bustled about, a look of extreme concentration on her face. The brows furrowed just so, the eyes wide and bright, the mouth in a little pout. It was one of the many things about Corliss that Lox found endearing.
 
Loxley: This is… strangely relaxing.
 
Fortune: Mmhmm...everyone likes a good haircut now and again. ::her hand grazed the back of his ear, then she playfully tugged the edge of it before carefully snipping some ends of hair.:: I’ve had a lot of practice with my mannequins over there, but do speak up if I pull you around somewhere too harshly. They have no pain receptors, as it were.
 
Loxley: That’s not the most reassuring thing I’ve heard from someone waving scissors over my head. ::he glanced over to the mannequins:: What do they say about your hairdressing abilities?
 
Fortune: I think they’d have some good opinions about the styling I give the wigs. ::she grinned at him in the mirror, slipping a hand into his hair and ruffling it a little before combing it back down, foot tapping to the beat.:: We can chat, nothing’s really loud and I don’t like using a blow dryer.
 
Loxley: That’s part of the ritual, isn’t it? Talk about the weather, where you’re going on your holidays? Well, there’s no weather in space but shoreleave is as much of a holiday as anything else. So, anywhere you want to visit at the station?
 
Fortune: If it snows, I’ll remember who caused it then. ::she grinned.:: Hm, not in any particular fashion, no, but I’m open to exploring around.
 
Loxley: I was thinking some shopping to start, get these quarters decorated. Well, the parts that aren’t already covered in wigs. I hear they have some antique shops and a place that specialises in old Earth music. And then we treat ourselves to an excellent, fulfilling meal followed by partying until we fall over and can’t stand back up.
 
Fortune: Oh that sounds lovely! ::she laughed, combing over his hair again slowly.:: I daresay we’ll have all the bits and bobs to last us until the next shore leave, eh?
 
The quiet snip snip of the scissors and some more ginger locks fell away. Looking in the mirror, Lox was convinced that his hair was certainly shorter - as to being ‘cool’, he’d have to wait until Corliss had finished her handiwork. Another random thought struck him and he gave a little frown.
 
Loxley: Corliss, do you have secret stashes of stuff around the ship?
 
Fortune: ...hm? What do you mean?
 
Loxley: I just don’t know anyone else who has so many accoutrements readily available. ::he gestured to the semi-professional salon setup:: And I thought maybe you had some smuggler training, things hidden in vents and piled up in Jeffries tubes.
 
Fortune: Oh! ::she chuckled, trading out the scissors for the brush and sweeping his hair in grand gestures to make it stand up.:: I’ve always been one for managing to have something always on hand. I’d say it’s a talent, my dad was one to tap your shoulder, ask if you’d like to see a plant, and then just...pull one in a pot from seemingly nowhere! I’ve still to wonder how he did it...
 
Loxley: Oh, that reminds me, who is Captain Marisol?
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((Corliss and Loxley’s Quarters, Deck 5, USS Gorkon))
 
 
Loxley: Oh, that reminds me, who is Captain Marisol?
 
Good thing she wasn’t holding the scissors right then, she might have taken off a good chunk of curls or two. Instead she flushed brightly, stumbling over her words before catching herself laughing, having to bend over to get her breath back.
 
Fortune: W-Where did you hear that one?!
 
Loxley: A couple of crewmen were talking about her in sickbay earlier. I was sure I’d heard your name mentioned, too, I wondered if it was someone you knew? 
 
Fortune: Oh stars above...Marisol’s the name I chose on our mission! ::she kept wheezing, hiding her face against the back of the chair.:: Someone wrote a book, can you even believe…! ::she let out a long sigh, shaking her head.:: Got caught off guard with that one, I’ll tell you what.
 
Loxley: Someone wrote a book about your alias?! Ha! I was sure the crewmen were talking about a real person, not a character. But I guess if she’s you, then she’s kind of both.
 
Fortune: Well, she was a person at one time, I suppose. A friend of my grandmother’s but there’s not a way to link anything to her, much less piracy.
 
Loxley: Nobody ever writes books about me. ::he mock-sulked:: So who is the secret author? Someone on your away team?
 
Fortune: I don’t know! ::she waved the comb in the air, puffing up her cheeks.:: We’re on a mission to find out, and then! Well! I don’t know! Then we’ll know.
 
Loxley: Intriguing. 
 
Fortune: If what Lena says is true, you’re in them too. ::she snipped a stray lock quickly, brushing out everything with a hum.::
 
Loxley: Oh? That’s… ::he blinked:: ...Actually, that’s pretty worrying! And how does Lena know?
 
Fortune: Uhh….::she blinked, frowning.:: Hm..maybe she made it up? We were trying to distract someone, after all.
 
Loxley: Well maybe she wrote it. She’s got access to the intelligence files. And she’s always watching people, I bet nothing escapes her notice.
 
Fortune: Hmmm…::she clicked her tongue in thought, taking the comb to thread over Loxley’s hair before ruffling her fingers through it.:: Fuzzy! Good question...I haven’t seen her around lately. I hope she’s okay.
 
Loxley: She’s probably right here right now, watching us from the shadows, making notes for her next novel.
 
Fortune: Ah, hang on…
 
She took up some of the oil, scrubbing it between her hands before running her fingers through his hair again, plucking at it to force the hair to stand up, while also causing the quarters to smell very, very good in full force.
 
Fortune: Aaaaand there! Look at your new fuzzy hair!
 
Lox leaned forward to look in the mirror, turning his head this way and that to get a good look. He raised one hand and gingerly prodded his new do.
 
Loxley: That’s amazing. I think you’ve actually made me look good. ::he stood up and brushed himself off, a few ginger strands falling to the floor:: I mean, it’s a shame I’m just going to stick my hat back on and ruin it…
 
Fortune: Heeeey! ::she pouted, grabbing up the bottle to clean off her scissors.:: You’ll hide all my handiwork!
 
Loxley: I was joking! Don’t make me report you for assaulting a junior officer with a spritz bottle!
 
Fortune: ::she wiggled it at him with a grin.:: Then don’t make me use this on you!
 
Lox picked up a brush from the table and waved it in her direction.
 
Loxley: So, does this mean I get to do yours?
 
Fortune: Oh not to cut my hair, you don’t. But, ::she tapped the comb against the brush, setting her implements back in their places.:: I wouldn’t mind you brushing my hair. It’s very relaxing, as you said, to have someone do it for you now and again.
 
Loxley: Shame. I did have some amazing hair styles in mind for you. Another day perhaps… I mean, you have to sleep sometime. ::he chuckled:: But I’ll settle for just brushing for now.
 
She plunked into the seat, her head leaning back with one leg crossed over the other. Lox ran his hands softly through her hair to dislodge any significant knots before he applied the brush. His technique was gentle and probably completely ineffective, but pleasant. 
 
Fortune: How’s the project with Smog coming along? Any interesting data yet? 
 
Loxley: She burps fire when she’s full and she enjoys flying on the holodeck. She’s less keen on Andorians, though. Or one Andorian with an ion mallet in particular.
 
Fortune: I’m very concerned, but at least she’s got a little fire? Dragons need that, from what I’ve read in all the little tales and things.
 
Loxley: Yep, exactly. The only ‘science’ bit I’ve done so far is observing her while the ship is at warp. As far as I can tell, she doesn’t much care. I’m going to try her out in zero-g at some point, once she’s more settled in.
 
Fortune: Well, she’s probably having the time of her life. Or perhaps she’s like a little lizard, where not much disturbs them. I saw a few in a book once!
 
Lox picked up a couple of bottles from the table, given them an experimental sniff before using one of them. It didn’t smell like bleach so he figured it would be fine. As he continued to brush her long hair, he could feel a familiar tingle in his mind, that empathic bond that had first appeared on Giang Sinh and they still seemed to share. It was the same contented comforted feeling from their night walk on the beach, hand in hand, last shoreleave.
 
Loxley: We should do this more often. Well, not the cutting part, otherwise I’d have nothing left. Just… ::he gestured vaguely:: ...this.
 
Fortune: I wouldn’t make you bald, dear. Your curls are too pretty. ::she grinned, peeking an eye up at him as one leg bounced lightly.:: You’re right though! This was a blast. We could do something simple together. Chess or reading, play around with Smog…
 
Loxley: Book club sounds good. Or music club? Take it in turns to play each other music we like. Speaking of which, what are we listening to right now?
 
Fortune: Ah! It’s called the Waltz of Tours. The story goes that one afternoon, one of the heads of the Houses was going on a walk about town, and heard a small child playing the tune on a lap harp. So they decided to support the child’s musical knowledge and thus the Waltz of Tours came to be. Or, so the story goes. ::she shrugged.:: I heard it at a festival when I was little. What about you? What do you like?
 
Loxley: I think you find out a lot about a person by their music tastes. On Earth, the magic age seems to be 15. That’s when everyone seems to find the type of music that fits them. For me, it was rockabilly, classical music from centuries ago. But it’s seriously catchy.
 
Fortune: Rockabilly? ::the word sounded odd to her, a mishmash of others it seemed.:: You’ll have to show me sometime, yes?
 
Lox paused mid-brush, a faraway look in his eyes for a moment.
 
Loxley: Actually, that gives me an idea for a holoprogram… 
 
Fortune: Does it now? ::she seemed amused at that, shifting in the chair as she watched him.:: You’re winding up my curiosity moment by moment.
 
Loxley: Just an idea… I might need your help, though. You do have a lot more style than I do. ::he smiled:: Out of interest, what are your holodeck programming skills like..?
 
 
 
 
 
Lieutenant Corliss Fortune
Highest Quality Counsellor Brain
USS Gorkon
G239510CF0
&
Lt (jg) Loxley
Medical Officer
USS Gorkon
R238401JT0
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