deadlyjuliet | ♥5 [action -> audio]

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♥5 [action -> audio]

[Action]

[For those in the town square this fine day, they may find a red blur falling out of the sky and straight into the fountain with a loud scream and a crash. Grell is back in Luceti, looking like a drowned rat, and none too pleased to be here.]

WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME SOMEWHERE RATIONAL?!

[Voice]

...Does anyone know where I can find a good hair product? That bloody fountain seems to have ruined my beautiful locks and since I can't blow that thing up, I may as well take care of this.

And for those who are wondering? Yes, the parlour is still going up. Even if kills me. Or one of you.

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But not the Death Killer.

[Just pointing that out. Grell gives Smoker a look and goes back to trying to smooth her hair out with one hand.]

I'm afraid the "afro" doesn't come into style. Ever.

[/sob]

Someone has to pay for this, don't you agree? And if I can't reach the Malnosso, I may as well-- [Ugh, sigh.] It was hypothetical anyway.

Probably. [But he'd hate to have her prove to be the first one.]

[... She's not going to understand this but it's a man's code in One Piece.]

[He shakes his head.] Don't question the power of afro.

[Sigh, whateva' man. Power don't mean style. /z-snap]

Fiiiiine, but it isn't a style for me and it isn't one I wish to try anytime soon.

Is there even a product to help that?

[He knows so much about hair. Clearly. I mean you remember his spiky days right? And now... Well some might argue it's an improvement but not all, definitely.]

There's a product to help with everything.

[And yup, she accepts you as you are, Smoker, crazy hair and all. Grell leans over and musses Smoker's hair up in revenge. If her hair can't look nice, neither can his. 8( ]

I just have to find it.

[It's seen worse.]

Where would it be? Item shop or something? Or at you hoping someone has it?

[Looks up at that hand like a grumpy bull mastiff at someone playing with his ears.]

[Probably, yes. She looks down at him bemused and sips her tea again.]

It's there. Someone spoke to me earlier about it and threatened my life should I take it all. I'm almost tempted to try it. He had the most amazing red locks.

[His ears just flick.] Oh? Who's that? He can't have that good of hair if he's that desperate.

[ gods? he quirks a brow as he offers an arm. ]

I meant by the villagers back here, ma'am. It stands to reason that our captors couldn't be kind.

[And some wonder why he hates talking to people.]

It's not supposed to be exciting.

I don't know if anyone has to pay. It's just water, isn't it? I'm glad to hear that you were speaking hypothetically, though.

[Clove is silent.

As Grell speaks of love and loss and death, she's back in the Arena.

She hears the gong. The bloodbath is a blur. Boy Seven has a stave. He swings at her. She dives low, still running. Down to her knees. A vest. Knives. One out, thrown. Sinks into Boy Seven's chest. First cannon of the Games. A melee all around. Another boy -- distracted. Knife in his back. District Twelve. Knife. She blocks it, runs with the pack it's buried in. More blood, more death. The last non-Career -- Girl Ten -- dies at Cato's sword. Rest are scattered. The cornucopia is secured.

Others died, but the blood only came back when the tracker-jackers attacked. The hallucinogenics in their venom made her see blood everywhere, nearly choke on it.

Cato had been by her side through it all.

She would have killed Cato to win -- to live. BUt not... what she's talking about. Somehow, three distracted words escape.]

I died first.

Oh, how disappointing. I was hoping you would have survived a little longer.

Perhaps it's simply time to broaden our horizons then, hm? The parade of eligible bachelors here is never-ending after all.

Water, when your hair is having a bad day, is no longer just water.

Ooh, but it is. Nothing is more enticing than such a prickly and devilishly handsome unobtainable prize.

[She takes said arm with a smile.]

Captors have the capacity for kindness, but they often fail to see the necessity of exercising it.

A flaw I've seen far too often for my tastes, to be honest. But less about that and more about you. What name shall I call you by?

[Uhuhuhuhu. /trolls]

Oh, but it was gorgeous. It's obvious he takes care of it. [Sigh] Hair red as blood. You know how I adore the colour.

[Slight huff.] Your own hair's better though, I'm sure.

Normally, I would agree with you. [She fingers the ends of her still damp hair.] But since coming back, it seems to be misbehaving terribly.

I see. So that stuff will help?

So I'm hoping. [She sighs and lets the strands drop from her fingertips before sliding off the sofa arm and onto the couch next to him.]

But if not, I don't see how I can show myself to the village.

[Plays with her hair slightly.]

I really still think it's quite pretty. Same color as before, and that's what's important, right?

[She leans into the touch and up against him.]

Oh, if they had changed my colour? I would have been furious.

As it is, the style is important as well. I may simply need to hide away from everyone but you until it goes away.

Then you'd still be beautiful, because you are when you're angry. [And he will insist... every other time too. Just to make that clear, he is 100% biased here.]

And hats or braiding it are out of the question?

[Twirls a lock around his finger and runs it along her jaw and neck.]

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