foolishmortals

Entry tags:

round 3,
week 5

Week 5

[...So that was a mess. All of it was a mess, and things don't look to be improving any time soon. With tensions at an all-time high and conditions worsened, it seems pretty safe to say that this whole week promises a great deal of foreboding atmosphere.

But, hey, things aren't entirely bad. Just as Randall promised, you're now able to leave the Manor!

Just don't stay out there for too long. There's still a lot of you, and you just can't afford to lose numbers.

24 guests remain]

[SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY WEDNESDAY THURSDAY]

[OOC: and don't forget to fill out this week's activity check!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Now, now. I think your touch is plenty soft enough. It's all in learning the patterns anyway.

[She reaches over, hesitating only for a moment, and places her small hand in his palm.]

If you wanted, you could practice on me first. I don't mind if you pull.

[Like tying knots, he thinks but doesn't say, because he doesn't want her to lose confidence in him.

He looks at her small hand in his palm, and then gives her a smile.]

You sure about this.

[Her shoulders shrug.]

Why wouldn't I be? It's just hair, Stanley.

[He shrugs.]

Fair enough, it's your head.

[He squeezes her hand.]

[She gives him a wink, and then turns and, with alarming ease considering how long she'd just spent on her hair, tugs enough pins out that the whole thing comes tumbling down. She runs it through with a hairbrush, and then turns so that the back of her head is facing Stan.]

First thing you want to do is just get a feel for how thick her hair is. How much you've got to work with, so you know what size pieces to start out with. Go on, practice on me.

[He is indeed somewhat startled at how easily she takes her hair back down, but he turns to face her back.

He's reminded all over again how beautiful her hair is, watching it spill over her shoulders in brown and silver waves. He reaches out and runs his hands through it when she tells him to, starting at her crown and letting it flow through his fingers all the way to the ends.]

...Like this?

[She's always so composed, but still Leia lets out a soft little sound when she feels Stan's fingers brush over her scalp, carding through the lengths of her hair. It falls almost to the middle of her back; she's always kept it long, the better to work with. She nods, just slightly.]

Mmhm. Just like that. Now you know what you're working with.

[She tilts her head backward, so he can see her demonstration, and pulls three separate strands from her hairline.]

Now, you're going to take three strands, just like this, just half an inch or so.

[She lets the strands drop.]

Go ahead, now.

[The soft sound she makes put a smile on his face, and he's almost tempted to do it again. But before he can, she tips her head back to show him how big of strands to use.

He carefully tries to pick up three similarly-sized strands, but one is too big and another is too small, and it takes some finagling to finally get three that are the same size.]

[She smiles to herself in the mirror, watching him copy her movements with varying degrees of success, and when he seems to have a handle on the first step, she goes on.]

Right. Now you're going to take the rightmost strand, and pull it underneath the middle one. But don't let go, you've got to keep hold of all of them!

[He looks up into the mirror and accidentally meets her eyes, his own widening and his ears burning a little at the smile on her face before he focuses back on her hair. He ends up holding one strand between his index and middle finger, another between his ring finger and pinky, and the rightmost strand in his right hand. He passes his right hand under his left and pauses, arms twisted and brows furrowing.

He puts his right hand back, and then tries again, this time taking the middle strand of hair between his thumb and index finger of his right hand, and then carefully sliding the right strand underneath. And then he parts his hands to try and gently tug the weave into the right place.]

[She'd never thought when she met Stan that she'd find the words 'adorable' and 'cute' crossing her mind so many times when she looked at him, but now look at her. She sees his ears turn a little red and it only makes that smile grow a little wider. A little fonder.

She watches him work out her instructions, and when it seems like he's got it, she moves onto the next step.]

Good. Now take the other side, the left side, and cross that under so it's the middle strand. And don't be afraid to pull a little tighter.

[wink!]

[The first step is to try turning his left hand. Then he gives up and carefully passes the left strand to his right hand.

He tugs a little harder to tighten it this time, eyes meeting hers in the mirror to make sure he isn't hurting her.]

...By the way, I dunno if you even noticed but I filched a couple of pins from your hair to get you in here when you were passed out.

Thought you'd mind that less than me goin' through your pockets.

[She doesn't even flinch; she grew up having her hair yanked at by two or three ladies at a time. This doesn't bother her in the slightest.

Her brow arches.]

I didn't notice, actually. But I appreciate your honesty. That's very gallant of you, Stanley.

[He blinks, and his hands stall.]

Maybe it'll be my lucky charm.

[He scoots up closer behind her, so he can lean around her and kiss her on the cheek.]

You think so?

[She watches him scoot a little closer, and helpfully angles her face toward him, feeling his whiskers scratch at her cheek.]

You can knock if you ever need to get into my room again, you know.

[She's absolutely teasing him.]

Alright, now pay attention, this is the tricky part.

[Leia talks him through the basics of a Dutch braid, patient as he figures out each step. Halfway through, she pauses to check his progress, feeling at the back of her own head.]

Would you look at that. You're either a natural or you've got a great teacher.

[It's a lot more like certain kinds of rope-tying than he thought it would be. After a somewhat rough start, he gets the hang of it, his big fingers weaving easily through her hair.

He holds his spot in his hands while she feels his handiwork, grinning proudly from ear to ear.]

A great teacher who's not tender-headed.

That does help, sure.

[Her hands retreat, fold themselves in her lap.]

Now, as far as Mabel goes, I think it'd be especially cute if you braided her hair in two, just like that. And then once you reach the end...

[She gestures for him to finish the braid, and waits patiently.]

Coil it up into a bun just above her ears. Just...like...this.

[Leia holds the braid in place so he can see what she means.]

A little less stiff than the way I wear my hair now, but still fancy and pretty.

[He finishes the braid and hands the end over so she can show him how he should do Mabel's.]

She'll look like a little princess.

[His knee pops a little as he pulls his leg up onto the bed, reaching out to wrap his strong arms around her waist and slide her back against him.]

She's gonna love it. It'll be just what the doctor ordered.

[Leia lets herself be pulled back against Stan, relaxing against his broad chest, his soft belly, head nestling back against his shoulder.]

I've been a princess, a senator, and a general, but never a doctor. But I think you're right.

[Everything about him is a little bit soft, now. Even if there's a lot more strength hidden in his chest and arms than in his core. He settles sort of. Around her, when she settles back against him, his hands clasped around her waist, his legs bracketing her hips, and his furry cheek resting against her head.]

That's a lot of hats.

I never had much of a choice either way.

[She'd worn each of those hats with grace and a sense of duty, of course, but it had never been her idea, exactly. It was just what she was born into, in all senses of the word.]

But it was what my people needed of me.

[His mood seems to drop a little, though he doesn't pull away.]

'Least you didn't let 'em down.

[She heaves a sigh, nuzzling her cheek into Stan's.]

I tried my damnedest.

[Leia reaches for Stan's hand, to hold it between both of her own. Trace the lines in his palms.]

Still trying. That's the best any of us can do.

...

[He accepts the nuzzling, and lets her pull one hand away from the other to hold, watching her trace the lines on his hands.]

You wanna hear about the time a witch stole my hands?

[Because that's less painful to talk about than this.]

[She blinks a couple of times, her finger pausing in his palm, and then laughs.]

Well, now I have to hear it.

[Especially if it eases some of the weird mood she can detect coming from Stan for the last little while.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject