PHD #290: A Different Color
PHD #290: A Different Color
Summary: Andrea shocks Khloe with her new hair color. The two talk about R&R and how Khloe doesn't.
Date: 13 Dec 2041 AE
Related Logs: None
Andrea Khloe 
Pilot Berths - Naval Deck - Battlestar Cerberus
The battlestar's pilots call this place home. Bunks line the walls with grey curtains to cover their sleeping areas. Lockers sit between each pair of bunks and a round metal table sits in the center, furnished with simple but comfortable steel chairs. A hatch at the rear of the room leads to a communal head.
Post-Holocaust Day: #290

It's been a relatively quiet day, and things are calming down in the berthings as Andrea walks in from the head, wrapped in a towel and… surprisingly, red hair. Now, her roots had made it clear for awhile that she wasn't a true blond, but fiery red? It can't be said it doesn't fit her personality. She walks over to her locker, and looks in the mirror hung in it, turning her head this way and that to see how she likes it.

The Knights SL has several days of catching up to do, and getting caught up on CAP rotation certainly doesn't make things any easier. Having pulled a double shift, Khloe walks in, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, her helmet being carried in the other. She makes a straight line for her locker, and by the time she gets it open, she stands up straight and has that look of concern. Scowling, she looks around, until she sees Andrea. Blink. "Hosedown, what the frak happened to your hair?"

Andrea hears the exclamation and smiles, not yet turning away from the mirror. "Rare disorder, Poppy. Turns out my body makes melanin in a wierd way that turns my hair red. Damndest thing, looks like it all caught up with me at once." She turns to her SL with a bit of flair in her spin. "So how do I look?"

Khloe takes a few steps away from her open locker, eyeing Andrea critically. "I saw you this morning. You had blonde hair. Sure, you were showing roots, but… it's not like I really pay attention to these things. Comes with the territory of having rat-brown hair. And where did you get dye?"

Andrea laughs, then turns back to her locker to get some clothes. "They have a huge stash over at the quartermasters, got it planetside. For the civvies, technically, but a batted eyelash here, some Aerlionian whiskey there…" she smiles at Khloe in the mirror. "I've always been red, but had some dyes in my folks house when I was hiding out. Thought It was gonna be a slow change back, when we found that stash and I figured, do it all at once, you know?" Pulling her sweats on, she turns back. "So, seriously. What do you think?"

"It's… a good color on you." And that's all Khloe says, instead turning to her locker and beginning to peel out of her flight suit. "If you wanted to hide out, you may have chosen a hair color closer to earth tones. Brown, maybe auburn. Blonde stands out nearly as much as red does, but I suppose if it's dirtied up it can blend in." Always the practical one.

Andrea smiles as she walks over to Khloe's locker, leaning against the neighbor. "Probably, but blonde was all I had. Been blonde for years. Besides, an hour or so dying it was an hour or so I wasn't sitting around doing nothing." Andrea looks up at Khloe's head, appraisingly. "You know… your hair is always tied back, but I've seen you getting out of the shower and it has some decent body. It's a very pretty brunette."

Khloe frowns a little, staying busy with dismantling her flight garb. "Thanks?" Uncertainty, not snippish. "I keep it tied up to keep it out of the way. You know, so I really don't have to do much with it. I chopped it all off, when I was stationed at Tau Garrison. Too hot for long hair." She succeeds in peeling out of the jacket, and crouches down to work on her boots next. "I got some unflattering things said, so I stopped going that route."

Andrea chuckles, then steps away to give Khloe some room. "Yeah, well, the guys always have their own ideas, right? I bet your hair could hold a mean curl, though. You should do it, next time they have a party of some kind. You'd floor all the guys… and probably some of the gals."

"Curl? Party? Oh, no no no," Khloe protests, shaking her head. "Parties are for people who don't have enough work to do, or are slacking off. I'm neither. Thanks, but I'll pass. Besides, looking professional is all that really matters to me. Looking pretty? That's… no." She shakes her head again. Boots come off. She doesn't strip out of her pants yet. Instead, she turns to regard the now-and-once-again redhead. "If this is your idea of getting me to 'open up' you're barking up the wrong tree."

Andrea doesn't realize it, but she has settled into a posture of 'the Look' which she often recieved from her mother when the old woman thought her daughter was being unreasonable. Hip out, arms crossed below the breasts, eyebrow raised. To her Captain, no less. "Well, I suppose I COULD talk to you about finding new regulations to follow, but I'm pretty sure all we'd find is something about how R+R is more than a suggestion, and we'd be right back to square one." She shrugs. "Throw me a bone, here, Poppy."

Khloe shrugs her shoulders, hands out. "What the frak do you want me to tell you? I don't do parties. I don't 'do' pretty. It's not in the playbook." She looks as if she's about to start digging around in her locker as a distraction but she just ends up scratching her left arm scars, instead. "I can't even remember the last time I wore make-up. Seems like a lifetime ago." And she gives Andrea a pointed look. "And that's not an invitation."

"Well, you do Triad. You do sparring. You do Raptorball, if ordered." Andrea counts of the options as she looks Khloe over. "I was on a bit of a streak, earlier, but I lost it, apparently, around the time I started playing with your socks. So… what DO you do, Poppy?"

"I only did Triad once, becuase you practically twisted my arm," Khloe corrects her. "Sparring is good to keep the body and mind working together. Endless exercise just makes you tough but not know how to use what you have." She considers the question. "If you're asking what I do in my downtime, I don't let myself have any downtime. Athletics area, or studying, or sim time, on my off hours. Sometimes I draw. And that's about it."

"You'll play Triad if I call you out. You'll spar if I give you a reason to want to hit me. You'll even think about hairstyle if people give you enough grief." Andrea shrugs. "There has to be a way to get you to partake in some activity that doesn't involve gross manipulation. You NEED R+R, Khloe, and it's actually something that you're supposed to do, as well. It's not just a recommendation, you know."

Khloe sighs in frustration. "Gross manipulation? What about my exercising? That's relaxing! Nobody manipulates me into doing that, I do it myself. Just because it's not something you would do, doesn't make it R&R for me. Ever think about that?" She reaches into her locker and tugs out her shower bag, and then starts to kick off her flight suit pants. Annoyed Khloe is annoyed.

Andrea holds up her hands. "You said yourself that it wasn't downtime, Poppy. It's work, with a goal. I do it to, for crying out loud, you know you're as likely to find me in the Athletics Area as anywhere. When was the last time you actually TRIED any of this stuff? That Triad game? I noticed you enjoyed the hands where you beat ME…"

"As we've found out, I enjoy beating you, Hosedown," comes Poppy's droll response. Pants finally get kicked off, leaving her in tanks and skivvies. "The only reason why I'm not telling you to go screw is because the CAG…" She lowers her voice, frowning at herself for her indiscretion, and leans closer to Andrea. "The CAG has personally asked me to relax. It's not easy for me. All right? Is that what you want me to do? Admit that I am weak and I need rules and regs and strict adherence to them in order to be functional? The whole incident with Shiner on the deck just goes to show I was wound too tight."

"No," Andrea says with a sigh. "What I want is to be your friend, your wingmate, and to HELP. And I'm not gonna just frak off and leave you hanging, Poppy. I'm not." She reaches up and puts a hand on the SL's shoulder. "We can spar later, if you're comfortable with it. Whatever you need. Or if you're ready to talk, when you're ready to talk."

It's clear that her first instinct is to shrug away from Hosedown's hand on her shoulder, but she forces herself to stand still. Stiffening, in fact. Almost as if personal contact were painful for her. "All right, whatever. I'm going to go shower. Eight hours of CAP and I feel pretty nasty." That's when she finally breaks contact with Andrea, stepping away and heading for the head.

Andrea watches her walk away, then shakes her head and goes back to her locker. Maybe a late night dying while the SL was asleep? Nah, Poppy'd KILL her for that.

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