[Theatrical Muse: Write a ficlette inspired by the word blue]
Mel doesn't look in mirrors all that often.
This surprises many people when they notice it. They see her dyed hair, multiple piercings, tattooed lips and upper arm, and peg her down as vain. And they'd be right, to an extent: she is vain. She does care about her appearance. But not in the way they believe.
It's a disguise, really. She dyes her hair and stains her lips because each time she does it, the face in the mirror becomes that bit less recognisable.
And she does it because she's afraid.
When she can, she puts money aside. It's not very often she has money to spare, but occasionally she'll run for something particularly valuable and she'll get paid extra. And she'll put it aside. She's saving up for another act of vanity. One that costs more than tattoos or dye jobs or hair cuts or having holes punched in her body.
Mel wants to change the colour of her eyes.
She has beautiful eyes: she's been told this enough times to know that they're her best feature. Large, and pale blue, but rich in colour nevertheless, many people have asked her if she's already had the procedure done. Just as many people accuse her of being a pump, although neither is true. But her eyes, she knows, aren't because she's the Slayer. This is pure, old fashioned genetics. She inherited them from her father, and they're the only physical similarity she has with her taller, curvier, blonde sister.
And with Harth.
Mel was fifteen when her twin brother died. And she will always blame herself for leading him into the jaws of the vampire that killed him. For all her strength, and speed, she couldn't protect the most important person in her life. She couldn't Slay at the one time she most needed to. She failed the first and most important test of the Slayer, before she even knew that's what she was. Since then, every time she's let herself linger at a mirror, every time she's let herself make eye contact with the girl she sees there, those eyes fill up her vision. Those large, azure spheres become all she can see, and they cease to become hers.
They're his. Staring back at her accusingly. Reminding her that she got him killed. Asking her why she couldn't have protected him. Pleading with her to come back to him. And, lately, telling her that everyone she loves is in danger and that, too, is her fault. She often expects them to turn yellow and beast-like, but they never do.
So Mel wants to get rid of them. She wants to look into the mirror and see brown eyes. Or green ones. Or, hell, if she's going to do it, why not get red or purple or cat slits? Anything but blue. Or yellow, for that matter.
But every so often, she changes her mind. She wants to keep them. The last connection she has to the brother she loved. Still loves. The other half of the Slayer. The other half of herself. So she takes what she's saved up and gets something else. Another tattoo, a hole in her ears or nose, a new hair colour or style. Anything that takes the attention away from her eyes.
But one day, she'll do it. And they won't be blue any more. And she'll severe the last connection she has with the dead.
But maybe not today.
Muse: Melaka Fray
Fandom: Joss Whedon's Fray
Word count: 577
This surprises many people when they notice it. They see her dyed hair, multiple piercings, tattooed lips and upper arm, and peg her down as vain. And they'd be right, to an extent: she is vain. She does care about her appearance. But not in the way they believe.
It's a disguise, really. She dyes her hair and stains her lips because each time she does it, the face in the mirror becomes that bit less recognisable.
And she does it because she's afraid.
When she can, she puts money aside. It's not very often she has money to spare, but occasionally she'll run for something particularly valuable and she'll get paid extra. And she'll put it aside. She's saving up for another act of vanity. One that costs more than tattoos or dye jobs or hair cuts or having holes punched in her body.
Mel wants to change the colour of her eyes.
She has beautiful eyes: she's been told this enough times to know that they're her best feature. Large, and pale blue, but rich in colour nevertheless, many people have asked her if she's already had the procedure done. Just as many people accuse her of being a pump, although neither is true. But her eyes, she knows, aren't because she's the Slayer. This is pure, old fashioned genetics. She inherited them from her father, and they're the only physical similarity she has with her taller, curvier, blonde sister.
And with Harth.
Mel was fifteen when her twin brother died. And she will always blame herself for leading him into the jaws of the vampire that killed him. For all her strength, and speed, she couldn't protect the most important person in her life. She couldn't Slay at the one time she most needed to. She failed the first and most important test of the Slayer, before she even knew that's what she was. Since then, every time she's let herself linger at a mirror, every time she's let herself make eye contact with the girl she sees there, those eyes fill up her vision. Those large, azure spheres become all she can see, and they cease to become hers.
They're his. Staring back at her accusingly. Reminding her that she got him killed. Asking her why she couldn't have protected him. Pleading with her to come back to him. And, lately, telling her that everyone she loves is in danger and that, too, is her fault. She often expects them to turn yellow and beast-like, but they never do.
So Mel wants to get rid of them. She wants to look into the mirror and see brown eyes. Or green ones. Or, hell, if she's going to do it, why not get red or purple or cat slits? Anything but blue. Or yellow, for that matter.
But every so often, she changes her mind. She wants to keep them. The last connection she has to the brother she loved. Still loves. The other half of the Slayer. The other half of herself. So she takes what she's saved up and gets something else. Another tattoo, a hole in her ears or nose, a new hair colour or style. Anything that takes the attention away from her eyes.
But one day, she'll do it. And they won't be blue any more. And she'll severe the last connection she has with the dead.
But maybe not today.
Muse: Melaka Fray
Fandom: Joss Whedon's Fray
Word count: 577