WE’RE GONNA BE FRIENDS | OPEN, DYING FUR

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    ”Oh, shoot,” Pierce mumbled as he dropped his brush covered in hair dye, which landed unceremoniously on the newspapers beneath his paws with a small splat. He’d been planning this for a while, but was only just getting around to it - dying his fur pink. Not all of it, of course, since that would look silly, but he’d picked out one chunk of fur on his cheek to dye a pastel shade of pink. He wasn’t too sure what had inspired him to finally do it- maybe his insecurities about the rest of his body, which had been worse since his body switch, but, of course, he didn’t realize it. It’d be cute, right? He hoped so. Although the dye was pretty similar to paint, and the brush vaguey resembled some of his own, he was very clearly struggling, gazing into his cracked mirror that he had dragged out to the little clearing right outside his home. Something about the consistency of the dye, or maybe the shape of the brush’s handle must be why he was having so much trouble, right? He was only a short distance from camp, but he hoped no one would stumble across him struggling to smear his fur with watery, paint-looking dye. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?


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    ( rushed )


    Jersey could recall a time- no, several times when the vice-leader had painted himself. From face-painting to his own claws, you name it. He, on the other hand, had no desire whatsoever to get paint all over his fur. That shit took a long time to get out and he would rather not deal with it.


    The tuxedo tom took a drag from his cigarette as he sat up against the stony wall. He glanced over at Pierce, clear judgement displayed from his features although it wasn't strong or harsh. He was used to this stuff by now, especially with Pierce. "You got a thing for paintin' yourself or somethin'?" Jers grunted. He added, "'n why pink?" Pierce seemed more like a light blue or yellow kind of guy, anyways.

    Coming across the scene of Pierce with what appeared to be a very watery looking paint Angeldust supposed they should think more strangely of it, but didn't considering how common of a scene this might have been in Sunclan. Many took to face painting for various festivals and raids to express their nationality, and honestly Angeldust missed the feeling of blue paints adorning their face as they thrust themselves into battle - their status as a medic emblazoned upon their cheeks in a beautiful array of blue hues. "Face paints? Ooh, I haven't seen those since Sunclan, we used to paint our faces all the time for different events. Very pretty." Enthusiastically Ang mused about the paint now before the kitsune as they followed in Jersey's steps and came to observe Pierce's behaviours, not really taking note that the major difference in paint was that Sunclan's face paints easily came off. While this particular shade of pink - wouldn't.


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    I'VE FALLEN AND I CHOOSE NOT TO GET UP —

    Hmph. Now that just seemed like something some youngster would do. Nicklaus had never heard of dying your fur or using paint like that, but it seemed messy and wouldn't it feel funny on your fur? Padding over with his nose wrinkled in disgust, the Medic scoffed, "Why would ya wanna paint yer fur sonny?" He looked just fine to Nick. Why would someone want to paint their fur? Couldn't they just switch bodies or whatever? Ugh, there were too many new powers these days... Nicklaus yearned for the simpler days.

    London had never really messed around with paint. She'd drawn pictures, made flower crowns, but never had she actually done something artistic requiring paint. She wasn't apposed to trying it though. Actually quite the opposite. Maybe if she got some pink paint on her cheek, it would make those weird lightning scars become less noticeable. Overhearing the conversation, the young girl would make her way over as well. Seeing as everyone else had already decided to disturb Pierce, she didn't believe her own presence would make too much of a difference. "Could you paint me, too? If there's enough paint left over?" the paladin would ask, her British accented voice sounding ever so hopeful.

    *:･ﾟ✦ Anything that had to do with color, she was in. Her favorite things to do were colorful, indeed. Painting in general was definitely in the top 10 list. Along with paint balling, sidewalk chalk, and painting herself. Which was definitely something she never did, of course. Her little paws carried her over to them and she smiled. "Ooooohhhh! Paint! Paint those lines under my eyes and I can pretend I'm going to war or something!" She exclaimed in complete joy.



    The stench of a cigarette caused Pierce to wrinkle his nose slightly, the smell of stale beer that floated on the wind with it telling him exactly who it was that approached. He could sense the other’s judging stare, but unlike it might have in the past, it didn’t really bother him. Though why Jerseyboy always had to show up when he was around, he didn’t know. Even still, he didn’t let his expression turn dark at the other’s arrival. Rather, he offered the tuxedo a small smile, though he eyed his cigarette warily. If Clementine were to come over, the smoke definitely wouldn’t be good for her lungs. She was probably playing with Hana or Antigone, though, so he wouldn’t comment on it unless she showed up. Instead, he glanced up, listening quietly to the former deputy’s words. “It’s not pa-“ he cut himself off at the next inquiry, cocking his head slightly to the side as his wet fur sat stickily against his cheek. It was a fair question, really, one he was quick to answer. “Well, yellow’s my favorite color, but that would kind of blend in with my fur, so I decided to go for pink instead- I love pink, too.” Then again, he loved every color.


    His gaze then turned to Angeldust, his smile feeling far more genuine at the sight of them - he didn’t know them super well, but they were nice -, though it probably didn’t visibly change. They referred to his dye as paint - or, face paints - too, and while they weren’t quite wrong, it was at this point that he realized most of his clanmates probably didn’t know what hair dye was. It was more of a human thing, wasn’t it? He was just lucky to find some mostly-empty bottles of bleach and dye whilst searching for some CDs last time he was in a human town, and actually know about it. “Oh, really? Yeah, they are, I love face paints, too, but these aren-“ one more arrival, Nicklaus, and Pierce couldn’t help but giggle slightly, both at the way he was addressed and the fact that he had yet to have a chance to finish explaining himself.


    “Well, ‘cause it’s pretty, Nick, but this isn’t paint- it’s hair dye! I’m just doing this little streak here, but, I don’t know, I thought it’d be cool. It’s not super permanent, either; before summer’s up, I’m sure I’ll have shed enough fur for it to disappear.” He’d been sitting here for only five or so minutes now, since he’d had to sit around with bleach in his fur for about a half hour, but he’d have to wait longer for this to soak- at least, that’s what the bottle had said, he was pretty sure-, so it was a bit of a shame it’d be gone so soon, but that was okay. If he really liked it, he could just do it again.


    Next to come ambling over was London, and then... Ayana, right? They, too, seemed to think he was messing around with some sort of runny paint, but that was understandable, at this point. “Oh, I’m not sure you wanna use this stuff,” he murmured softly. “It’ll turn your hair pink for months! I can pull out some better paints for face painting, though, if you want.” He’d love to help these girls out, of course.


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    *:･ﾟ✦ Ayana wrinkled her nose a bit at Jerseyboy but quickly dismissed it, as she didn't want to inquire why he smelled faintly of something unfamiliar and pungent. Her mind was off somewhere else and she seemed a bit distant. "That would be nice." She purred and nodded.



    I'VE FALLEN AND I CHOOSE NOT TO GET UP —

    Hmph. Well Nicklaus would never admit he didn't know that. While he was thinking, he looked down towards little Ayana and he tried his damned hardest to show that his cold, old heart wasn't melting. Just in the slightest. Those young youngsters always did that to him. He liked them right up until they got stupid. This internal struggle surfaced as a huff, a sour look, and narrowed eyes as he grumbled, "Hmph. Well. If it doesn't cause any lasting effects I suppose that's fine. Might look nice I suppose." He purposely avoided looking at the little kitten so his situation didn't get any worse.