» nocturnal vacation, unnecessary sedation

[quiescence]

Who: Felicia and YOU.
What: Come get your hair done or come talk to her or come be stared at her funnily because she dreamed about you and you did bad things (SUP WOLFGANG)
Where: The Best Little Hair House, other locations as you please
When: Misdi-Sukkardi at the salon, any other time anywhere else
Warnings: Bubbly personality? Language? TBA

For as much as she fakes it until she makes it, there are just some days where Felicia honestly doesn't have the energy to act like she has the energy to do anything. The dreams have been especially vivid since she's arrived in Baedal, more so than usual, and they all bother her. None of them are nice dreams, dreams about love and living life to the fullest. They're all filled with unspeakable horrors of faces both familiar and unfamiliar to her. She doesn't know where her subconscious stops and other people's start.

It exhausts her, and Felicia would give anything for an uninterrupted night's sleep. But sleeping bodies don't get fed and neither do angry landlords, so she manages to train herself into swallowing coffee strong enough that a spoon can stand easily upright in until she can make it out of the house and down to the salon. Maybe some bright sunshine or a chilly breeze will wake her up on the way over while she picks up some groceries. Maybe it won't. Maybe the cow will be happy to see her today. Maybe it won't.

No, it definitely won't. Mentos just wants its hay. Greedy cow.

Comments

@a coffee shop somewhere?

[controlledvariable]

Coffee is a helpful tool for Steph, when she spends the day at the library or doing undercover stuff, and then the evenings patrolling. One of the first things she invested in was a coffee machine, but right now she's on her way home from a shift at the library and it feels way too long before she'll actually be able to put more caffeine into her body, so she stops at a little hole-in-the-wall cafe and orders a double shot latte.

She's a little surprised when she sees Felicia, but it's a pleasant one, and Steph is waving before she really processes that she shouldn't waste time chatting with people.

"Felicia!" She can always excuse herself after a little while.

[quiescence]

She hates coffee. She absolutely hates it. The color, the smell, the fact that no amount of sugar or milk makes it palatable enough to be drinking it on a daily basis. And is Baedal's coffee even fair trade? Felicia was too tired to think of asking the barista; her only thought was to get a jolt of energy from something since Red Bull seems to be non-existent here.

Stuck at a corner table, watching the steam vapors rise from her cup that she's willing to quickly cool off enough so she can down it in one shot, Felicia turns slowly at the voice calling her name. Oh, a client. Time to put on the fully awake and paying attention act. "Steph, hi!"

That practically hurt.

[controlledvariable]

"Hey," Steph makes her way over, but won't take a seat unless Felicia offers; she doesn't want to impose. Before the fully awake act came on, Steph noticed she was looking a little worn out.

"Rough night?" She's knows a lot of people take advantage of the party atmosphere in Baedal, and she's assuming that Felicia is currently one of those people.

[quiescence]

"Something like that." If only she had the excuse of partying hard. She hasn't been to one club since she's gotten here. What a shame.

From underneath the table, Felicia pushes the chair opposite to her with her foot, an offer to sit. She isn't feeling very talkative today, but Steph is a client. Being nice does help with return customers.

[controlledvariable]

Steph takes the offered seat with a smile, looking Felicia over a little more carefully as she takes a sip of her coffee.

"You okay?" It's kind of a natural instinct for Steph to make sure everyone's doing alright.

[quiescence]

"Mmhmm." The fact that Felicia looks down and doesn't actually form full words in an answer is a clear sign that she's lying to anybody who knows her well enough. Good thing Steph isn't one of those people, but it's probably obvious enough anyway. Still, she can't tell people about those dreams, about how she deals with dreams. Jae knows. He's the only one, but he seemed weird about it. Naturally, that's how people are. God, she wishes Alicia was here. She was good about accepting Felicia the way she was.

"How can you drink this stuff?" Felicia points at Steph's cup as if what'sin there is so much different than what's in hers. (With the amount of sugar and milk she's added, it probably is.)

[controlledvariable]

Steph lets it go, even though it's pretty clear Felicia isn't feeling great. It's not like Steph hasn't had long nights before, and she doesn't know Felicia well enough to press for a real answer.

"I actually like it," she says it like it's some awful admission, "Or maybe I've just taught myself to, 'cause I'd die otherwise."

[quiescence]

"I think I'll die if I drink it," Felicia retorts as she pulls her cup close and grimacing when the smell of the coffee hits her nose. It's not like she hasn't tried other drinks before hitting up the java, but tea just wasn't cutting it at all. "It's so gross."

[controlledvariable]

"It's not that bad," she does remember hating the smell of it when she was little, but she'd eventually started liking it, "Have you tried a mocha? The chocolate takes away the bitterness a little."

She is super helpful.

[quiescence]

"Yes, it is. It's terrible. It's crap-soaked water." Or so she says as she takes a hesitant sip. "And yes, and not even chocolate can save this. In fact, it ruins chocolate. It should be arrested."

[controlledvariable]

"That's just unecessarily harsh, crap-soaked water tastes much worse," Or at least smells worse; Steph has so many great life experiences, such as trudging through Gotham's sewers.

"Why don't you get some energy drinks or something? If you're only drinking coffee for the caffeine?"

[quiescence]

Felicia shakes her head, but its unclear whether it's because of Steph's statement or that she just took another sip of the foul beverage.

"None of them are strong enough. I don't know why they don't sell Red Bull here. I would buy it all." Her precious Red Bull...so far away back home.

[controlledvariable]

"I could give you a shot of adrenaline if you're getting desperate," It sounds like a joke, but Steph does actually have a syringe full of adrenaline in her utility belt. She also has some caffeine pills, but those are sort of her emergency stash.

[gramarye]

Wolfgang normally takes care of his hair himself -- which includes trimming it, he stopped going to salons in his early teens because the pressure to cut it all off made him uncomfortable ("but you'd be so handsome!") -- but lately it's becoming An Ordeal. Every so often you need a little professional help anyway, and he's got somewhere to be later tonight with explicit instructions about his hair.

(His latest friends are awfully bossy.)

Not able to afford any of the fancy salons that were recommended to him, he thought about Felicia -- she's in his cohort, she's perfectly nice, her prices are reasonable and her hair looked fine when he met her, so obviously she has to know what she's doing, right? Right.

So that's where he is this Sukkardi afternoon, dressed all in white with pink shoes. He called earlier to be sure she could fit him in and he shows up exactly on time despite the long trip. "Hi," he says when he's within range, smiling sleepily.

[quiescence]

Felicia is lazily feeding Mentos bits of hay as she sits on the steps of the trailer, noticing the pink shoes before looking up to see the the rest of the person attached to them. She frowns for a second or two once she reaches his face; something about him is bugging her but she can't place it right now. Maybe it's just her tired brain making things up, so she smiles at him in the polite way she smiles at all her clients.

"About time you let me play in your hair," Felicia greets him, standing up and brushing off the back of her pants. "What can I do you for today?"

[gramarye]

"I'm kind of a mess," he admits. He runs his hand through his hair and makes a face; it's in a bit of a state, dried out and slowly approaching a state that can be called frizzy (dun dun dun). Normally Wolfgang would never let his hair get in this shape, but circumstances have been conspiring against him. "And I've got somewhere to be tonight and I'm pretty sure he's going to murder me if I don't do exactly what he wants, but I've got no idea what I'm doing. Can you help?"

Help him, Obi-Wan Felicia, you're his only hope.

[quiescence]

Oh God. Not frizzy. No, no, no. We cannot have frizzy in these parts. That is it. Felicia to the rescue.

She reaches out and touches his hair to see what particular kind of conditioner he needs, but when she touches him, her expression changes to one of confusion and Felicia yanks her hand back as if she's been shocked. She has, but it's a different kind of shock. A shock of realization that now there is a clear reason why that little boy in the dream looked so familiar to her.

"I had a dream about you the other day." The words come spilling out before Felicia can push them down. Damn it.

[gramarye]

He looks surprised by her reaction -- static electricity? maybe? sure -- and then interested. "Really! What was it about?"

If he remembers that particular dream, it's not apparent in his face or his tone -- although maybe in the back of his head he feels like he's seen her more recently than he has, but Wolfgang's memory is a little... shaky, so he doesn't trust it.

He has so many nightmares, he can't keep track of them all.

[quiescence]

She wishes she kept her mouth shut, wishes she never had that stupid dream. What Felicia doesn't wish is that she never had the dreamwalking ability, but still, sometimes it's more trouble than it's worth. How could she ever tell him that a child version of him murdered grown men without even touching them? And then about that little girl? It was too horrific to even put into words.

It's better just to ignore his interested question. She waves a hand as she opens the door to the trailer, hoping he will leave well enough alone. "Let's get your in the chair."

[gramarye]

Felicia's reaction there is doubly confusing and he frowns for a moment before shrugging it off. Okay. Maybe it was a bad dream. It happens, especially in Baedal. The fog tends to mess people up, and Howl Barrow is pretty close to the city borders.

"Okay." He has to duck to get in the door, then sits down obediently.

[quiescence]

It was a bad dream. No, there is no word that describes how terrible that dream was. It felt so real, realer than all the other dreams she's ever had. It scared her.

It's because of pure muscle memory that Felicia manages to cape Wolfgang without choking him, even as her hands shake uncontrollably. It had to be just her overactive imagination. This gentle looking guy couldn't possible be able to do what he did.

[gramarye]

Certified space cadet he might be, but Wolfgang is not, like... blind, he can see that something is clearly bothering her enough so that her hands are shaking. And that troubles him. "Hey," he says, turning around to look at her; he really does look concerned. "Are you okay?"

[quiescence]

"Who's Safiya?"

For some reason, Felicia finds herself asking who the girl is rather than if he knows somebody by that name. She can't even look at him as she asks. It's like her mind is telling her what she already suspects but didn't want to be true. She's walking while she's sleeping, with no permission or preparation. No wonder she's been so sick and tired more so than usual.

[gramarye]

"I... don't know." He sounds genuinely confused as he wracks his brain for anyone he might know by that name -- an Arabic name, and he doesn't know a lot of Arabs. Not here, certainly, and not from home. It does sound familiar, but in the sort of vague way one recalls names from newspaper articles or friends' Twitter feeds, and again, when he goes back far enough in his memory, it's just -- a wall. Utter blankness. "Should I?" he asks, tentatively, wondering if it's someone he was introduced to whose name he promptly forgot -- it happens sometimes.

[quiescence]

"In the dream..."

In the dream, what? She was dead? She was dead, tied to a chair, and still able to move? Nothing makes sense here. If he doesn't remember, it had to be Felicia's dream, her own brain's creation. But why? It's never been like this, so vivid and real.

Felicia shakes her head to clear her thoughts, but it doesn't do much but add more questions. "In the dream, she was your friend."