thisavrou_log | (OPEN) - Beneath the make up and behind the smile I'm just a girl

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(OPEN) - Beneath the make up and behind the smile I'm just a girl

Who: J and everyone else!
When: Backdated from 1st of April to 13th. Before the trials + event log ~~because i can~~
Where: J's makeup studio + bar !
What: Catch all log for this month
Warnings: Some out-dated slurs? Closed thread with Sans contains talk about the past sexual abuse and death. Will update if/when needed!

Make up

At first, way back on the January, J had only eye rolled at the job that the captains had assigned to her. Sure, go ahead and give the nelly a makeup studio, of course she'll know what to do. But it hadn't taken long from her to see the bright sides of the job. Really, having a roomful of beauty products had pretty sweet perks. The equipment they had first given to her hadn't been too great, but thanks to their stops at Eris and Emiri, she has been able to gather and add more products and items to it. Plus, she was rather lucky not to have that many customers, so her working hours were very flexible, making it possible for her to come and go just as she pleased-- which suited her better than well.

However, despite being more interested in playing hooky than keeping the shop open for potential customers, it's not too rare to find J loitering around her workshop. After all, it was perfect place for her to go and hide whenever she needed some privacy (somewhat a rarity nowadays that she has to share her bedroom with three other people). And it was good to at least let the captains think that she's doing her job.

The door's always closed but one can always tell whether she's in or not from the jazz music, more specifically: music by Marilyn Monroe -- her often singing along with it, that keeps playing whenever she's present. If someone were to open the door, they'd find J either laying on the couch while reading different kind of magazines that she's collected from the library, or then fixing her own make up.

BAR

While J loves her little 'beauty salon', and wouldn't want to trade it for anything, there was no denying that she was in her true element when working at the bar. She had been only little over 14 years old when she had gotten her first job at the shady, local pub near her school, where she had used to sneak in secret from the teachers and rest of the school staff. The only downside to this job was that it's not nearly as easy just to ditch the work now that she has a co-worker, who's more than strict when it comes to showing up to shifts.

Oh well. Good thing that she loves this job and while she's not exactly the best bartender around, as it's her first time working on this side of the counter, but at least she has some kind of clue what to do. Although, that still doesn't mean that J takes this job too seriously either. As she can most of time be found poking her MID, playing certain romance game in it, not caring whether it was a busy night or not.

She's also rather lenient about giving alcohol to people who haven't reached the legal drinking age because hey. She started using alcohol at age of 14 and she's not one to deny it from other kids.

WILDCARD!:

create your own adventures!

[prose and action tags are both welcomed!]

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That's the joke. [He winks, stretching out his arms over his head. His smile holds steady -- as if his jaw would let him do anything else -- but it's quieter than usual.] And I could always eat. It's you I'm worried about.

C'mon. [He decides for them both, nodding for her to follow.] I know a shortcut to the mess storeroom. Y'know, where Loki keeps all the good shit.

Wanna come?

[J opens her eyes and turns her head to take a look at him, attempting to keep her own expression as neutral as possible-- wanting to hide the devastation away. Then, with slow and uneasy movements, she straightens herself and follows him.

While eating something could do her some good, even though she's not completely sure if she's able to keep anything down at this state, it's not the reason why she decides to come with him. It's the promise of a quiet and isolated room that makes her to take up on his offer.]

[Upon taking her first step in his direction, J would feel the sensation of falling -- not off a cliff, no, but that peculiar sensation when one overestimates how many steps there are at the top of the stair. When her foot does hit solid ground again, their surroundings are replaced by the shelf lined walls of the mess pantry.

Sans, for his part, is already elbow deep in one of the bins.]

Here. [He hands her a chunk of something dark and heavy.] That's bitter chocolate. It'll settle your nerves.

[A silent, surprised whine gets caught in J's throat as she's suddenly hit with the abrupt sense of falling, first believing to have taken misstep. Out of reflex, she flings her arm to her side, attempting to take support from the wall so that her face wouldn't end up hitting the floor.

But then it was over just as soon as it had started. Feeling a little disoriented, J blinks her eyes few times and runs her hand through her curls, breathing out heavily.]

You know that night eating makes you fat. [She hums to Sans but still accepts the offered chocolate, sitting on top of the closest box.]

I'm already fat. [Sans explains simply, taking another chunk of chocolate for himself before settling beside her.] I chalk-a-lot of it up to living well.

[He winks, giving her a quiet nudge. Silence reigns after from him, quietly nibbling his chocolate and staring thoughtfully at nothing at all.

It's a few moments before he speaks again, voice casual. As if he's addressing something that happened to someone else entirely.]

So what happened up there?

[Like always, the joke doesn't get any reaction from her. J bites down on the chocolate, taking a big chunk of it to her mouth. It might not be the most dignified manner to eat but it's not like Sans' cares.

She chews the chocolate, enjoying from the silent and still moment between them, the fear from earlier slowly calming down. There's something about Sans' company that she finds soothing and comforting.

When he speaks again J's chewing slows down for a bit, thinking about the question and how to answer.Giving him a small shrug, she swallows the last pieces of the chocolate and sighs.]

A nightmare. [She keeps her voice distant as she speaks and shoves the last pieces of the chocolate into her mouth.] About something that happened a long time ago.

Edited 2016-04-27 10:16 (UTC)

Oh yeah? I get those sometimes. [Sans tears off another hunk of his own chocolate. Where it goes is anyone's guess, but smart money's on somewhere down his uniform pant leg. His tone remains casual, despite all odds.] What're yours about?

[She's stopped questioning how does the Skeleton anatomy worked a long time ago. Just like she's done with... pretty much everything on Moira. It's just easier to accept that's how things are.

There's another quiet pause when she just eats the chocolate.]

I heard there were no other skeletons back at your place. Didn't you guys have parents or family?

[Evasion isn't that hard to spot when you use it daily yourself, but something about this line of questioning makes Sans wonder if it's leading somewhere.

Regardless, J will give answers when she wants to and not a second earlier -- of that, Sans is certain. Playing along is the least he can do.]

We probably came from somewhere, but wherever it was stopped being a thing a long time ago. It's always been just me and Pap, for as long as I can remember.

[Now there was something in his answer that hit close to home with her: the isolation, being part of the crowd yet sticking out like a sore thumb. She knows that Sans and Papyrus are pretty well liked on Moira it's still not the same as being with someone who's like you-- someone who'll really understand you.]

How come you guys are extinct? Don't bone anymore? [She says with a distant voice, making the attempted joke come out flat.]

[She's trying. It earns her a smile at the very least, though those aren't exactly rare when it comes to him.]

Probably has more to do with humans not liking us very much. [Sans explains, keeping his tone light despite the subject matter.] Being different's a bitch, huh?

[It doesn't take a genius to guess that J might be able to relate.]

It's not like we like anyone, not even ourselves. Back home there's this war that's going on in another country but there's still lot of guys from my place that are just dying to volunteer to go there. [J can't really claim that she understands the conflict and whatever's going on in Vietnam but it really goes over her head that there are so many young men eager to go there. There's a brief memory of the friend she used to have not too many years ago, the troublemaking young man who tried to volunteer just to rebel against his family-- all prepared to die in the battlefield.

She licks the melted chocolate off from her fingers, really wishing now that she'd have more it. Or something else to keep her mouth busy.]

But you know. It's not like we need wars to kill others. Those who are different.

Don't I know it. [Sans manages, vaguely, eye lights dimming at the memory. He wishes he had more chocolate, too. Or a drink.

But the moment is fleeting, replaced by something much warmer. Dwelling on what can't be undone isn't why Sans brought J here. At least, not directly.]

How about you, you got family?

[Ah. There it is. The question that she had been anxious (and maybe even hopeful) to hear.]

No. [She says without a hesitation. The short and sweet answer that she always gave to those few who asked about her family. It's always difficult to talk about family with anyone else, as she had been alone for so long and distanced herself away from the concept of it that even the whole word felt alien to her.

However, no matter how much she lied to others, and herself, that she's fine with things as they are, deep down she missed her parents ever so horribly. She misses the content and safety that her mother's strict and unyielding faith in God brought. She misses father's warm, loving and understanding smiles and kisses on forehead. She missed them so much that it made her sick in her stomach. But all those feelings have been hidden and bottle up for time that feels like an eternity to her, that the thought of opening the lid scares her because she's not sure if she can keep them all from pouring out.]

My dad's dead. [She continues after a heavy pause, eyes focusing now on her knees.] Mom is--- I don't even know. Probably still at the hospital.

[There's no outward reaction from Sans outside a nod, processing that information against all he already knows about J. It doesn't fill in the whole puzzle, not by a long shot, but a few gaps are starting to fill in.

If there's one thing monsters love, after all, it's a puzzle.]

You close with her?

[Her lack of knowledge on her mom's whereabouts said no, but Sans was never one to assume. People had all sorts of reasons for keeping their distance.]

Hah! Not really. I was always more like a daddy's little girl than mom's darling little boy.

[She attempts to laugh but her voice falls flat, coming out as hollow and forced. There had always been this invisible wall between her and mother, as she could never quite see the same as father did. And who knows, maybe that's why things ended up the way they did.]

She shot him and lost her. Police took her away and said that they were taking her to get treatment somewhere faraway.

[For how placid he was before receiving the news, this does come as a surprise and it shows. Humans had an unmatched capacity for cruelty, Sans knew this to be true from experience, but still...

It's something he could rationalize away by the inherent differences between them. Humans hated monsters, or at least found them to be entertaining fodder for murder. No one would miss them, in humanity's eye, especially not when there were none of them left. He could see the root of that kind of violence, even if it made his bones rattle.

This? Killing your own family? The person you loved and married, and terrorizing your child in the process? It's not something Sans can understand. It goes against everything his people are made up of, on the SOUL level.]

Shit... [His voice comes out gravelly and thin, until he swallows again.] Sorry. I can't even imagine that.

I'm not the one who you should feel sorry for. I'm not the one who's dead.

[She answers hastily. J doesn't need to look up to Sans to see the shock and discomfort, the tone of his voice alone says enough. Things like these aren't uncommon, you could read about different kinds of tragedies from the paper every day but still, for some reason, no one wanted to hear them happening to someone they knew. It was ugly, unpleasant and too personal.

For a briefest moment, J grinds her teeth together and grimaces as her stomach twists and turns, signaling her to stay quiet about the rest. But her heart won't allow her to let Sans to blame mother for this, not when she was the real victim.]

And it wasn't her fault. I did something to her... and to father that made her do it.

Bullshit.

[Sans answers as soon as the words leave her mouth, not unkind but flat with disbelief. There were plenty of subjects in the world where complexity and nuance could paint a situation in any number of shades of gray.

This wasn't one of them.]

What could you have possibly done?

[The blatant and downright disbelief and rejection in his words are something that actually manages to rouse anger in her. He says the words so easily, making it sound so simple and certain even though he wasn't even there to see what was really happening.

She looks up from her knees and turns to face him, eyes hurt and offended. ]

I let him--, I mean. He had been sad and depressed for such a long time. I wanted to do something that would cheer him up so that he'd be happy again. Mom was very stressed, too. So I let him to-- [ A pause. The sick feeling in her stomach turns into nausea, making her shake a little]

I seduced him. Mom walked in and well.. You know the rest.

[Let him is all she has to say. The rest filters in slower, like sound through cotton.

Let him. There it is again, as if underlined in red ink. Two little words that flew in the face of everything that came after. How old could she have been then? She was practically a baby now, a little younger than Papyrus, and somehow even thinking about his brother in tandem with any of this is enough to set Sans' face like stone and douse his eyelights completely.

It's a frightening look on the man, though it's not J that needed to be scared.]

I see.

Edited 2016-05-02 13:15 (UTC)

[J stays quiet as she waits patiently for Sans to react. To show anger, disgust or pity-- any of the usual reactions she got from the people who knew about her family. The obvious discomfort and incapablity to deal with the news that she just told them, leaving her to feel lost and guilty for subjecting them to something so ugly.

But when the reaction she waits for doesn't come , J only looks away again, this time focusing on the empty wall in front of them, feeling just as empty as his eyes.

Well. At least he now knows.]

Hey, J, can I ask you something?

[The question comes after a long period of stony silence, made longer by how Sans empty sockets appear to stare both everywhere and nowhere. They were still empty now, the direction of his skull the only thing giving any indication where he was looking.

Right now, his skull was turned towards the far side of the pantry.]

[The question doesn't come to her as a surprise, not really-- but there's still something about it that makes her feel nervous, scared even.]

What? [She says after a beat, swallowing the air and bracing herself for whatever he has in his mind.]

When all this went down. [He begins, words carrying his usual friendly tone but with a shift to his cadence. The ease is gone, replaced by something pointed; as if each word is being carefully chosen.] Somebody must've talked to you, explained to you what happened. I mean, I don't know how old you were, kiddo, but I somehow doubt you tied seduced to what happened to you all by yourself.

Was it your mom? Or a cop or something?

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