flavour of the day and hot fudge with fresh peaches and pineapple
Story: Timeless { backstory | index }
Title: Lipstick And Hair Dye
Rating: G
Challenge: FOTD: doppelganger
Toppings/Extras: hot fudge, fresh peaches, fresh pineapple
Wordcount: 386
Summary: Blackledge WK-03 undergoes a transformation.
Notes: Casey totally reminded me of Scarlet’s existence, and today’s flavour of the day fits her eerily well. Doppelganger: A ghostly double or counterpart of a living person. Alter ego; double. Peaches: People know exactly what buttons to push when Venus conjuncts Pluto. As they say, “Then it’s time to grow new buttons.” Pineapples: Somebody killed me/ They tore out my heart, my love […] And there’s nothing I can do/ The media made you.
She was stood in front of the mirror, staring critically into it, arms straight and palms tight against the small ledge under it. The harsh light glaring from one side reflected in her tiny black pupils, made the milky-white of her skin glow. Blackledge WK-03 tilted her head in the opposite direction, watching the plasticky waves of her hair slip and slide smoothly over her shoulder, gleaming a vibrant red.
“Scarlet,” she said, voice echoing hollowly from the interior of the tiled room. “You look beautiful.”
There was a large bruise on her left cheekbone, polished to a vicious violet under the halogen lights. It looked like a smear on the chalkiness of her skin. The young woman touched a hand to it softly. Then she pressed harder.
“You’re better than them,” she said, smiling suddenly. Her teeth were white and frightening.
Her hand roved across the cold stone of the ledge and finally closed around a tube of lipstick. Red, of course. She opened her mouth into a small ‘O’ and flicked the lid off with her thumb, taking no heed as it rattled to the floor. With practised smoothness, she glided the tip against her lips, swathing on a sheen of bright, bright red.
Rubies, she thought when she was finished, pressing her lips together and opening them again with a light pop. Passion. Death.
She dropped the lipstick to the floor carelessly and began scrunching her hands through her hair, combing them with slender fingers, letting the shiny sheet of blazing locks slide over her shoulders. Everything had to be in place. It looked so smooth, so sleek that it might as well have been a wig, her fringe a straight line just above her eyes.
“You look beautiful, Scarlet,” she repeated with a proud glimmer in her eye. Blackledges all looked the same, but not her. She would be remembered. People would see how much better she was than all of them.
Still smiling, she hummed brokenly into the cavernous silence. A few notes of a tune she didn’t recognise.
“Things will be better now,” she promised her reflection. Her image gazed back at her, mouthing the same words, the same unfulfilled smile haunting the corners of her lips. Scarlet giggled. “You look so beautiful,” she said. “I wish you were real.”
Title: Lipstick And Hair Dye
Rating: G
Challenge: FOTD: doppelganger
Toppings/Extras: hot fudge, fresh peaches, fresh pineapple
Wordcount: 386
Summary: Blackledge WK-03 undergoes a transformation.
Notes: Casey totally reminded me of Scarlet’s existence, and today’s flavour of the day fits her eerily well. Doppelganger: A ghostly double or counterpart of a living person. Alter ego; double. Peaches: People know exactly what buttons to push when Venus conjuncts Pluto. As they say, “Then it’s time to grow new buttons.” Pineapples: Somebody killed me/ They tore out my heart, my love […] And there’s nothing I can do/ The media made you.
She was stood in front of the mirror, staring critically into it, arms straight and palms tight against the small ledge under it. The harsh light glaring from one side reflected in her tiny black pupils, made the milky-white of her skin glow. Blackledge WK-03 tilted her head in the opposite direction, watching the plasticky waves of her hair slip and slide smoothly over her shoulder, gleaming a vibrant red.
“Scarlet,” she said, voice echoing hollowly from the interior of the tiled room. “You look beautiful.”
There was a large bruise on her left cheekbone, polished to a vicious violet under the halogen lights. It looked like a smear on the chalkiness of her skin. The young woman touched a hand to it softly. Then she pressed harder.
“You’re better than them,” she said, smiling suddenly. Her teeth were white and frightening.
Her hand roved across the cold stone of the ledge and finally closed around a tube of lipstick. Red, of course. She opened her mouth into a small ‘O’ and flicked the lid off with her thumb, taking no heed as it rattled to the floor. With practised smoothness, she glided the tip against her lips, swathing on a sheen of bright, bright red.
Rubies, she thought when she was finished, pressing her lips together and opening them again with a light pop. Passion. Death.
She dropped the lipstick to the floor carelessly and began scrunching her hands through her hair, combing them with slender fingers, letting the shiny sheet of blazing locks slide over her shoulders. Everything had to be in place. It looked so smooth, so sleek that it might as well have been a wig, her fringe a straight line just above her eyes.
“You look beautiful, Scarlet,” she repeated with a proud glimmer in her eye. Blackledges all looked the same, but not her. She would be remembered. People would see how much better she was than all of them.
Still smiling, she hummed brokenly into the cavernous silence. A few notes of a tune she didn’t recognise.
“Things will be better now,” she promised her reflection. Her image gazed back at her, mouthing the same words, the same unfulfilled smile haunting the corners of her lips. Scarlet giggled. “You look so beautiful,” she said. “I wish you were real.”