[Marlene Lovechild]

Click, clack, click, clack.

The sounds of heels stabbing into the pavement, nearly muffled by the rain outside. It poured, but Shibuya's drainage system worked wonders, as it often did in Japan. Removing most of the water, preventing puddles. All you needed to travel in this weather was an umbrella. Still, there was plenty of water to go around. Most people stayed inside, during this kind of weather, if they could. Rains were cozy and lulling when watching them form inside a nice dry building, with a cup of hot tea, while leaning against the windowsill. 

A lonely figure traveled down the street, stirring clear from the edge of the pavement, lest a car would drive by and drench her dress with water. It was a black, frilly dress. Very pretty, but well-worn, too. A distance semblance to a maid outfit, especially with that white shirt and second skirt underneath. A big black umbrella covering a dainty frame of a young girl, who was making her way past the shining vitrines of various shops in Shibuya.

Marlene disliked the rain. It made her feel so metal. It was almost as if the machinery underneath her silicone skin was allergic to water, so much so as to give her an almost present urge to stay home, today. But almost a feeling was not a feeling at all, was it? No, not enough. Certainly not enough to stay, when there was an appointment. She was going to visit a beauty salon, today. Why would a machine care for beauty? There were reasons. Remaining in pristine condition, Marlene thought, would make her mission easier. 

But, maybe, just maybe, it was that, just like any machine, she enjoyed the thought of being tended and cared for. The girl briefly looked at her hand. Most would not notice it at a glance, but the tips of her fingers on her right hand were slightly blemished from firing a weapon. Most people would give it no heed, their skin would replace the blemishes on its own. Marlene had no such options. There were other things she wanted a professional to see and deal with. Hair, nails, other stuff. Perhaps, make her prettier somehow. People liked pretty things. Maybe, if she were prettier, they would like her more, too.

There it was. The beauty salon. There weren't any people inside, it seemed. Perhaps some customers were worried about the paint being washed off their face. Marlene felt no fear. She rarely felt much of anything. Instead, the petite automaton pushed the door open, closed her umbrella, and walked inside. 

"Good day." - she said with a neutral tone, which was not too dissimilar to that of an telephone auto-responder. "My name is Marlene Lovechild. I have a 3 PM appointment."

Her head slowly moved left, then right, scanning for people for present. She soon found one. It was hard to miss. She head to tilt her head up. And wait for a responce to her quarry. 

[Enda Finnegan]

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"Oh yeah, like I totally understand you'd want to cancel your appointment for a perm, Meiji-san........mmmmmhhhhhmmmm guuuuuuuuurl, you'd have to be like totally nuts to get a perm with it raining like this! ................HEH, LIKE, I KNOW, RIGHT?!" Tapping his pen and scratching out yet another name...all he had was one name left, Marlene Lovegood. Sounded American as hell, whether she was born and raised here or what, some parents were absolute weirdos who tossed around names that sounded exotic...but whatever, he wasn't out here judging. "Reschedule? Oh yeah like we can totally do that! What days and times are good for you in the next two weeks, hm?"

[break][break]

Flipping through pages as he scribbled down a few things and nodded "Mmhm, mmmmm yup! That day's totally open! ....before your mahjong tournament? GUUUUUUUUUUUURL! You're aiming to SLAY! ................yeah, yeah, I'll see you on Saturday at about seven a.m!" Clicking off the phone, he lightly tapped his finger upon the table, half expecting the last appointment left to get cancelled due to poor weather conditions or some other such thing. It wasn't like he had the best luck in the world, so honestly? Things rolling downhill as often as they did stopped surprising him with what felt like forever ago...

[break][break]

....well, whatever.

[break][break]

The time of reckoning in whether or not the last of his appointments would show up was just around the corner.

[break][break]

Just like clockwork, the door opened up as the large, grandfather clock behind his desk chimed out in perfect sync...

[break][break]

Damn, uh, well, that definitely wasn't something you get to see everyday...!

[break][break]

Pushing himself up from his seat as he walked around the desk and gestured towards a large vase beside the door, "Welcome to Hauntingly Beautiful! You can leave your umbrella in there~" Honestly, he was dressed cozily for this weather since...well...ya know, he was almost sure this would be a dud of a day. Checking in further, the young lady had eyes dead as a doll and a voice to match. The outfit wasn't all bad, it was actually pretty complimentary to her over all look...but...when he got a glance over of her...there were burn marks on her hands...?

[break][break]

Instinctively adjusting his own gloves, as though he was worried about someone seeing what was beneath, he didn't give too many shits about being rude, "Did...like...anything happen on the way here?" Partially because he was a Pro-Hero, the other part because he was a nosy guy who'd like to have a national supply of hot, gossip tea! Either way, tea to spill or not, he needed to make sure this lady wasn't in harm's way or something. What sort of burn marks they were, he wasn't too sure...but he head a keen enough eye to know it wasn't normal.

[break][break]

"Your hands look kinda...burnt?" It wasn't a normal people burn, maybe she had a quirk of some kind, possibly even just built different. He'd heard about literal androids being a thing, as uncommon as they were...they existed. What if he was actually talking to one right now? ....he didn't even think about that being a possibility out the gate, but it would make her whole...dead eyed and flat-soda tone...uh...make more sense? The tall, slender, lanky Pro-Hero with blonde and dark brown locks wore a black hoodie with yellow stitching and draw strings, skinny jeans and a pair of yellow sneakers accented with black triangles. Those golden optics of his didn't quite see anything on her clothes that meant she was attacked on the way here, at least...

[break][break]

...maybe it was just an old wound or...damage...or something.

[break][break]

As nosy as he was, though, at least his tone made it clear enough that he wasn't just baffled, but genuinely concerned for her well-being. If someone did hurt her, he'd try to weasel that information out of her so he could handle that issue right away. After all, he became a Pro-Hero to serve, protect and defend the masses with his quirk...legally.

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CHAOTIC GOOD

CHAOS GREMLIN

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[Marlene Lovechild]

Marlene would leave the umbrella in the vase as instructed, before taking a look around.

This place was ... different. It looked like an old house of some kind. Very fancy, but also very ... European. Especially that big clock. The automaton girl looked at it, with a long stare, as if listening to it tick and tock. She used to see these kinds of clocks all the time, back when her mother still owned her own clock shop. She was only distracted from listening to its mechanical heartbeat, when the tall man that appeared to be owning the place approached. Marlene assumed he owned the place. Doubtful that anyone else would be dressed so... casually.

And he noticed the singes on the tips of her fingers, too.

"Nothing has happened on the way here, no. The burnt marks are from a weapons handling class, from several days ago. I was careless to pick up hot casings with my bare hands. It is a mistake I will not make in the future."

Her voice had a metallic reverb at the last sentence, which one could charitably interpret as a degree of annoyance. Not with the person in front of her, mind you. With oneself. Something her mother chewed her out on too, before giving her some money to attend this place. Though, the automaton suspected this was done to not interrupt the woman's date with a few cans of beers.

She made an assertive step towards the man, and looked up.

"This place was recommended to me by an acquaintance. They said you are an excellent artist..." - the machine paused, searching for the name in the memory. "... Mr. Finnegan. I am interested in procuring your services." - she spoke very articulately, very politely. She also lacked any kind of micro-motions that humans tended to express. A doll, truly. And the more one looked at her, the more obvious it became. From the artificialness of hair to the colorless paleness of skin. A facsimile. 

"I would like for you to help remove the blemishes from my hands. I would also like a new manicure. And a makeover, to make myself look more approachable and ... alive." - Marlene paused a bit at that last word, briefly looking to the side.

"Are you capable of doing that?"

[Enda Finnegan]

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Okay there were a lot of options for what the whole grain hell weapon handling class this young woman was attending to bring it up with such a casual air. Hell, it sounded like something he recalled partaking in during his probationary period with the Sands of Time agency...plus she wasn't giving officer of the law vibes. Good gravy, there were a lot of sorts who went into U.A.U these days to become a Pro-Hero, maybe she was one of em?

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Not like he worked there, nor did he keep track of that kinda stuff since it wasn't like he found it necessary...or maybe he should...?

[break][break]

Well, he could get answers by asking more questions through out their time together...though that still didn't answer why the gluten-free fuck her skin retained those sorts of burns. "Good call on that one."Since you know...touching hot, metal anything sounded like a terrible idea. Though Jimminy Crispies on a crutch...how did it end up burning her like that?! Sure, the easy answer would be a quirk of some kind, but the crazy thing is that normally burns didn't look like...well...that. Such a weird thing to get hung up on, yet the more she spoke with vocal chords sounding rather metallic and steps that had a certain weight to them despite her petite package...iiiiiit was starting to seem like something to keep in mind.

[break][break]

More so when it came to how she was referred here, had a whole ass appointment that he probably should have asked more questions about since the assumption was something with makeup artistry. Thoughtfully bringing his gloved hand up to rest upon his chin...lightly tapping his lower lip as he listened intently. Like he wondered if she just sounded the way she did by default, or if her situation was upsetting her? Like to be totally fair, he'd have his panties in a bunch if he got funky burns that stuck around like that, too!

[break][break]

Though she did seem a little more...calm? Well-mannered? He really hadn't met someone like this lady before, so it was hard getting a proper gauge on her. "Mmmmkay, I see..." Thoughtfully muttering those words beneath his breath, he was actually glad someone would have such a positive experience here that they'd go out of their way to refer him. Maybe things were really starting to turn around...ey?

[break][break]

In a way, he sounded confidently lost in thought while coolly allowing his words to slip past his lips, "Oh like yeah no I can totally make you look more alive than you do now--- Then he had a moment of pause and plopped his hand over his mouth, the conspiracy theory seeker part of his brain wondering if this was actually a zombie, but he quickly dismissed it in favor of asking the more rational conspiracy theory going on, "Wait wait wait hold up...more alive...? Like I don't mean to be that guy, but are you some kinda like artificial human? Y'know, like an android?" Part of his tone seemed a bit concerned, but also a bit excited since...well! It wasn't like he had the chance to meet many androids?

[break][break]

Not like a lot of them were around, but... "Cause like gurl, uh like Ms. Lovechild? Yeah gonna have to get some special stuff out for the blemishes ya got goin' on if that's the case." Bringing his hand off his face, he lightly fluttered his fingers at the air in the direction of the well that would explain that burn marks upon her hands. Thankfully, he did repairs and had paints that would stick to her skin after mixing it with some make-up to properly stain it for the long term. Probably fiiiiiiiiinally get some tattooing under his belt for more permanent makeup solutions which would actually come in handy for artificial skin if this woman became a regular.

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CHAOTIC GOOD

CHAOS GREMLIN

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[Marlene Lovechild]

Marlene patiently waited for her specialist to process the request, in regards to what it was about, and who she actually was.

It was curious to observe. And, when the question about whether or not she was artificial came up, a brief, foxy smile appeared on the automaton's features. She pondered if she should tell. Surely, mr. Finnegan would figure it out for sure on his own. And yet, at the same time, him needing to ask about it meant that the appearance made him uncertain if she was human or not. That was good. That was ... progress. Being mistaken for a human at first glance was preferable to being ousted as a machine from a mile away. 

"I am an automaton, yes. Would that be a deal-breaker?"

She hoped not. The look she gave this tall, lanky man was now that of a faint worry. Which was volumes of emotion, for something as stunted as a machine, to express. She did not want to be going home with nothing, after going through all this trouble to get here. And ... she did want all those things she came here for. A part of her wanted the artistry performed by this man on her body and her face to impress even her mother back home. And gift her with the brief, fleeting moments of being mistaken for her daughter, at least at the first glance. 

Just a few moments. Oh yes. She would kill for that. 

Opening her small purse, the automaton dug in it for a little while, and soon fished out a photograph. It was old, the paper was starting to become yellow. And yet, on it, one could clearly see ... Marlene. A different Marlene, though. Gentle, and full of life. The photo exuded warmth and kindness, to anyone looking at it. It was a stark contrast to mrs. Lovechild right now. Cold and emotionless. She passed the photo to Enda.

"This is how I wish to look like. Do you think you can help me? I will pay whatever it is you require." 

The same neutral droll. With a barely perceptible hint of desperation underneath. 

[Enda Finnegan]

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Well, this was like dealing with someone who had this air of I know something you don't know when it came to the moment his gaze rest upon that fox-ish smile across her lips. He'd only known her for a few moments at best, but there was something about it that made it seem like there was more than meets the eye. Sort of an air of liveliness in her own way...? After all, she seemed about as expressive as a cardboard box on a good day or somethin' as a first impression, so seeing that change was pretty neat. Though she did give a very human feeling of worry after confessing to being a...uh...automaton, huh. Well, he never thought he'd ever meet one, let alone have one stroll into his salon for help...so he figured now would be as good of a time as any to quell her fears on being turned away.

[break][break]

Flipping his hair and offering a confident grin, flashing off his sharper than normal chompers as he spoke with a delightful air of confidence, "Oh heeeeeeellllllll no, that's not a deal-breaker! A challenge, maybe, but deeeeeeeeeeeefinitely not a deal breaker~!" Though he dialed it back as he saw her fishing through her purse, the look painting itself upon his features was one of confusion. Those slit-like pupils widening like an ever curious cat watching for a mouse, "Oh..." Long lashes fluttering into a couple of slow blinks as he reached out to take the photo, leaning ever so slightly in that moment before adjusting his posture, leaning back as he handled the old photo with care..

[break][break]

Although he was a bit of a himbo at times, his mind had a way of connecting the dots when it was right in front of him, "...this is who you were made to be, isn't it...?" His words were soft, gentle, thoughtful and kind as though he was speaking to someone coming to him about the loss of a loved one. In his mind, he was already piecing together what he needed to do to help this robotic woman achieve the look she hoped for. It didn't take him long to make those mental notes, his mind was quick as a whip when it came to the world of fashion as a whole.

[break][break]

So with the same care he used to take the photo, he handed it back to her with a thoughtful smile, quietly giving her the floor to elaborate if she wanted to. This customer in his presence was definitely breaking the mold of just another day so far, that's for sure.

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CHAOTIC GOOD

CHAOS GREMLIN

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[Marlene Lovechild]

"I am sorry to be a challenge. But I have faith in your abilities."

The machine girl sounded a bit upbeat when she heard that the makeup artist would take her as a customer after all. There was, of course, the last resort - to ask the support students back at the academy for help. But they were about fixing things, not make them pretty. Her condition needed a bit of a ... special touch. One that Mr. Finnegan could provide. He seemed like a very lively individual himself, being loud, chatty, and very attention-grabbing. Marlene attempted to imagine herself behaving in a similar way. She failed. Her behavior was already far enough from the original. This example was something akin to peering to another galaxy with an amateur telescope.

He is very different...

A bit of an awkward pause followed after she passed the photo. The automaton girl observed the expression that the tall fellow she came to visit, had. The smile he had turned from boisterous to something more gentle and wistful. Was it pity, or sympathy? Or both? Neither? It was a favorable reaction, nonetheless. There were instances when people were turned off by what they learned. That Marlene was not just a machine seeking to emulate being human. But that her purpose was that of a replacement instead. An emulation. A copy. She took the photo back, and nodded.

"Yes, that is one of the reasons I was made for. Your assistance will help me infiltrate human society. They will never see it coming, until it is too late."

A long pause would likely hang in the air after that line, with Marlene making eye contact with Enda, looking at him with her glassy, unblinking stare. Followed by small spark, and a smirk she's been practicing in front of a mirror, for a while. 

"That was a joke."

[Enda Finnegan]

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Life was boring with out challenges, wasn't it?

[break][break]

Sure, okaaaaaaaaay, it was easier without em', but he welcomed at the very least this challenge and it showed in the way he carried himself. Especially since it was looking like he had to help her at the very least visually fill the shoes of a deceased daughter. As morbid as it was, he couldn't help but have a moment of feeling like today he volunteered to be some brand of mortuary cosmetologist...but it was an automaton instead of an actual corpse. Not like he'd mind if she ended up being a zombie looking for help to blend in, but daaaaamn...he always remembered some shit better left forgotten when it came to corpses.

[break][break]

Watching Ms. Lovechild take the old photo back, she had more dashes of humanity than she initially let on...

[break][break]

Just the way she handed it over and took it back spoke volumes about how important she saw that slice of the past, hopefully her mother was one to appreciate the little things. There was no telling what sort of expectations were actually held over her head and which ones were self-imposed out of some sense of duty. Either way, he was going to put his best foot forward and try to help her as much as he could and continue to do so if she decided to be a regular customer.

[break][break]

....and the answer she served on a silver platter was enough to get him to crack a bemused grin. Remembering the one time he gaslit some dude into thinking he had to be nice to his microwave, otherwise it would straight up murder him first when the inevitable robot uprising came to be. Dude was a crazy jerk, so EHHHHHH, no guilt to be had, here! "I better do a damn good job to appease at least one of our future robo-overlords, eyyyy?" Pivoting to stand next to her while chuckling over their little exchange, he nudged her arm lightly with his elbow before lightly tapping her upon the shoulder. Motioning his hand for her to follow him, "C'mere Ms. Lovechild, time for me to be your fairy godmother~!"

[break][break]

Spinning on his heel, he spun one of the chairs that looked pretty dang fancy and cozy to match the whole motif surrounding them. The chair itself was red with a diamond pattern stitched into it, a low enough dip in the back to make fussing with hair a lot easier on folks when need-be. Of course, he'd wait for her to take a seat and make sure she was as comfortable as an automaton could be. Granted, he still needed to get some stuff...but he felt it was important to take care of his customer first and foremost!

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CHAOS GREMLIN

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[Marlene Lovechild]

"Your assistance will be remembered in the upcoming Empire."

Mr. Finnegan was not like Mr. Browning. The latter was creeped out by the jokes Marlene made. This one seemed to take it in strive. Though she was not able to gauge the levels of nervousness behind that smirk of his, if there were any. Still, the machine was satisfied that her personal brand of humor was finding at least some positive feedback with this one. 'He is nice.' - the artificial girl made a conclusion about the man, remembering to raise the relationship counter by one point. 

With that in mind, Marlene approached the chair she was invited to. It was a very nice chair, expensive-looking. She took her time getting to sit on it. She inspected it with her eyes for a few long moments. She then reached out for it with both hands, and gave it some slight downward nudges. Testing how sturdy and stable it was. She then got to place her tush on it, though very carefully, and very slowly. The whole process took about a minute, and one could hear the barely audible creak of the chair underneath when she was finished. Shifting a little bit to see if everything was alright, the machine finally came as close as it can to seeming relaxed. Or, at least, a little bit less rigid.

The automaton girl was able to see herself in the mirror now. Her pale face contrasting with reddish hair, and her dark eyes. She drew a smile. It was too long, too creepy. She dropped it. The next smile was too wiry and dishonest, it looked like someone forced to smile. It was also dropped. The third one looked pleasant and neutral, though not very emotional. This one stayed. 

"What is a fairy godmother?" - Marlene asked, earnestly, indicating her lack of knowledge in children's stories and books.

Her head moved at an uncomfortable angle, turning backwards to look at mortuary cosmetologist.

"I am settled in. You may proceed when ready. I will comply with whatever instructions you give me."

[Enda Finnegan]

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HAH!

[break][break]

If there was ever a vibe check to be passed, automaton girl over here SLAAAAAAAAAAAAYED it!

[break][break]

Gotta love a good robot overlords pending joke!

[break][break]

When she was aiming to get seated, though? The tall fella built like a twiggy tree with light bits of toning here and there simply watched the gal go over her inspection with genuine intrigue. Like those golden cat like optics watched with the utmost curiosity if this chair would stand the test of weight limitations. Sure, he made sure to get the good shit when it came to his salon despite having to deal with some repairs here and there, but that was besides the point! The furniture was pretty damn solid!

[break][break]

Sliding his hands into his pockets as he leaned slightly back, tilting his head ever so slightly before the sloooooowwwwwwwww creeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak chipped throughout the air. Well, if the chair died, it died he guessed....sometimes it isn't the Titanic hitting the iceberg...instead, the iceberg parking its butt on the Titanic. Though this time, it didn't sink and it would continue to serve many customers in years to come!

[break][break]

Once the metallic gal settled into her seat as best as she could, he took a moment to observer her testing expressions in the mirror...like really trying to find ways to blend in. A soft sigh escaped his breath...it wasn't so much frustrated or tired as it was a little effort to ease frustrating memories of the past. The things a person will do to be accepted and cherished weren't so different from a robot, crazy how they had that much in common. Heading off for a moment to get his supplies, they weren't very far off at least, but when he came back, he saw she'd settled on something a little more neutral.

[break][break]

That would definitely make working on her a whoooooole lot easier, but he wasn't about to bark at her about how to carry herself in the slightest. Plopping the cosmetics bag upon the counter, he glanced towards her and tried to figure out what coloration combos would be most suitable for a soft, natural look. Thankfully, the girl she was made to look like was pretty pale, herself...but just had more life to her complexion...

[break][break]

...a girl who didn't know what a fairy godmother was.

[break][break]

Ooooh chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiild, he had his work cut out for him in more ways than one!

[break][break]

Not like he minded, honestly, it was just a little disappointing that she didn't get introduced to whimsical fairy tales in the slightest. While he carefully applied a little bit of blush tinted paint upon her face, he went on a thoughtful little ramble, occasionally tilting her chin carefully as needed during the whole application process, "Okay so like, in short? A fairy godmother is this really nice, awesome lady who makes wishes come true...liiiike one in a story called Cinderalla is the best example of what we're goin' for here...she was like bippity boppity boo, you're a pretty princess and Cinderella was pretty for the ball she really wanted to go to. Like her step sisteres were huuuuuuuuuuuuuge bitches like gurl, they wrecked her pretty dress and tried to stop her! Then her fairy godmother stepped in to make it better, so like yeah...! I'm kinda like your fairy godmother in the whole sense of making your wish come true to look like the girl you're meant to be... In a way, he sounded a bit lost in the sauce of his thoughts..

[break][break]

...though he was very focused and being one hell of a perfectionist in trying to at least make her skin look less manufactured and more of a natural air to it.

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CHAOS GREMLIN

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[Marlene Lovechild]

Marlene watched, and listened. 

Her eyes were focused on the motions that Enda was doing. For someone so tall, he had such ... dainty, careful fingers. She could hardly register when his brush came into contact with her silicon skin. She wanted to learn it, and be able to maintain his work on her own, extending its life. She came to view the procedure as maintenance, of a sort. Maintenance was always ... pleasant. Or something close to it. Any machine liked being taken care of. Maintenance meant better performance. Maintenance meant that ... a machine was needed. 

'Maybe that is why mother allowed me to visit here. She needs me...'

A pleasant, if self-placating thought.

The automaton girl's mind focused on the story that Mr. Finnegan told her in short. A lady who grants wishes, makes people pretty, and stands firm against meanness and property damage. It sounded like a story told to children indeed. These kinds of books Marlene neglected in her studies. She was barely two years old, there was so much to learn and so many blanks to fill out. This part she simply did not have the time for. But when sitting in this chair, there was little she could do. Just watch... and listen.

"I have the time." - Marlene said, in case the tall man decided to tell her a more elaborate version of the tale. If he wanted to. All while he worked hard to make sure to turn her into a real girl. She could see some of his magic right now. The pink-ish tint around her cheeks, pretending to be blood flowing to them. A very warm color.

"You are painting a blush." - the automaton noted. "What does a blush feel like? When is it appropriate to have one, do you know?"

Of course he does, silly robot. He is the human. Not you.

[Enda Finnegan]

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It wasn't every day that someone wanted to hear him blabber on about much of anything, you know aside from general conversational cues, like fairy tales. Not like he knew any by heart when it came to a word for word retelling...though the automaton had a point...there was a lot of time to spare, a story like Cinderella in his retelling would probably be long enough to fill in the gaps as he carefully made her look more alive... "Oh, like...if you wanna hear it, I'll tell you more about it...it's a cute story..."

[break][break]

The man was thorough when it came to his work, he wasn't a slouch and would make damn sure that it matched the vision he had in his head. Of all his clients that came to his doorstep and made it far enough to take a seat...? This one deserved the utmost care in attention to detail. After all, it wasn't every day---or at all until today that he had to help someone fill the visual shoes of being someone's deceased child. A tall order that he wanted to fill as perfectly as he could...

[break][break]

...someone who hardly had a clue what it was like to be human.

[break][break]

He couldn't help but have a moment of pause with the gentle strokes of his blush, a soft laughter escaping him as if a child asked him about breathing air. It was an innocent question from someone who presented themselves as someone who, at a glance, should understand the very topic they asked about. At least he wasn't mocking her, it was just wholesome to encounter someone like this is all. The chance to educate when he wasn't even sure whether or not he'd make a good teacher, not something he really expected..."Well..." That was the thoughtfully spoken word that passed his lips just before he continued to paint her face, the tone carrying on as he spoke, "...like traditionally, a blush happens when someone is embarrassed, mad or like happy? Though what I'm goin' for is just using the color to make you look a bit more alive...like even if a living person puts on foundation and doesn't use blush, they'll look lifeless as hell..."

[break][break]

Gently tilting her face, he hummed softly...

[break][break]

"...oh and uh...a blush is usually a little warm...? Some people think they have a fever when they blush because they like...feel super warm? You know like from the blood rushing up to their face...not suuuper common, though..." Letting his gaze trace her features, he narrowed his eyes after the inspection. Goodness gravy on a pile of turkey...she had some hella dark circles... "...like oh my god, you look like you have a proper complexion...but now you just look sleep deprived..." Then he noticed his own dark circles, albeit a bit more subtle and less pronounced, "...kinda like me, pfffff! That was his playful way of finding something to relate to on a surface level of sorts, hopefully she wouldn't feel too bad about her own dark circles after he pointed them out!

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CHAOS GREMLIN

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[Marlene Lovechild]

"I see. I do not know what warmth is like, but I will pretend that I do."

There were many things Marlene did not know or experience. Like how food tastes, for example. It made her curious about how exactly that felt like. If only there was someone who could transfer feelings as well as memories into her, perhaps then the automaton would not be so clueless. But until then, all she had to do was endure. And do her best, in hopes of getting it right, sometime. The story of Cinderella was something she could not really relate to. After all, there was no magical being out there who could turn Marlene into a real girl. There was only this man, assisting her with the elaborate ruse she called life.

"I do not think fairy godmothers exist, mr. Finnegan." - Marlene said, before looking at herself in the mirror. With the blushes on, she really did appear more life-like. More like the person on the picture. Which was ... progress. Something the automaton girl had not seen in a long while. "But you appear to be the next best thing." - she complimented his work so far.

Ever the perfectionist, though, her make-up artist immediately spotted some issues with his own work. The eyes appeared to be tired and cold, when compared to the otherwise flourishing cheeks. When Enda mentioned him having the same bags under his eyes, Marlene looked at the reflection in the mirror. Indeed, he did have some. How strange this strangeness. 

"I do not sleep. Having bags under my eyes would be strange, yes. But is being tired not a human thing? Maybe if those are kept... I'd appear more human. It could also invite conversation..." - Marlene was seriously considering keeping those. While she did, her blink-less gaze kept focused on the tall man's face. Even though one could barely see it with how tall he was.

"Why do you have them, mr. Finnegan? What is keeping you up at night?"

[Enda Finnegan]

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tooth fairy

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i'm sorry, not sorry

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for what i said

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Live and learn, right?

[break][break]

Turns out Ms. Lovechild doesn't have a proper grasp of temperatures...which...riiiiiiiiiiiiight...the fact her hands had those burn marks were telling enough. If she was capable of feeling heat to any capacity, it would have been easy enough to feel the heat radiating from the metal shells without actually touching them...

[break][break]

In a way, she was really living it up in the department of faking it until you make it. Granted, her whole facade of being a human felt as though it was a never ending path of stumbling, but he'd happily argue that she had more humanity than some people he's known before. "Like damn, that's all you can really do..." Odd how such a cluster of words passed his lips with a sense of sentiment and a dash of thoughtfulness in the mix. It was true as could be, she lacked comprehension with touch and temperatures.

[break][break]

Part of him wanted to help her fix that, seek someone out who was competent enough to give her an update to take steps closer to replicating a human. With his current knowledge of machinery, there was no shot he could achieve that and...he didn't know anyone personally...yet he knew someone out there who could help her had to exist. Then again, it wasn't his place to overstep potential boundaries since it was essentially her body and choice as to what steps she takes to achieve manufactured humanity.

[break][break]

Plus, would it be unprofessional or rude to even make such a suggestion?

[break][break]

Even as a gossipy fella, he knew there were lines that shouldn't be crossed and...that seemed too personal to broach on. Maybe some folks out there didn't care about the boundaries of a robot, but he did. "That's a good start," those words idly passed his lips as he tried to inspect her face, trying to make sure everything was as even as he could possibly make it. Touching up here and there when he noticed even a minor imperfection, this girl was counting on him to make her seem alive...not a godawful botch job!

[break][break]

Though when she spoke of her disbelief in the existence of fiary godmothers? he was about to blurt out that fairy tales aren't based on reality...but maaaaaybe there was someone out there with a quirk that was similar to that fairy godmother stuff. Yet before those words could manifest into a coherent sentence, he paused for a moment as she saw him as someone who appeared to be the next best thing...

[break][break]

...it wasn't every day someone actually had something nice to say about him, let alone to him outside of like....what...two people? Then again, he didn't really allow himself to get super close to people...but he couldn't help but offer a grin, "Hell yeah I am!" Just because these sort of genuine interactions were such a rarity, it didn't mean he couldn't relish in these moments and own them for himself! SO HE TOTALLY DID!

[break][break]

Before he could get to work on her eyes, the automaton seemed to have this desire to keep her dark circles. Fluttering his long lashes a few times, those cat-like slits within his eyes seemed to widen then become narrow as he took a moment of pause to digest the thought. Someone wanting to keep their dark circles just....huh....?

[break][break]

"Oh...like I guess we could just like make them look more...natural? Cause like if you wanna keep em' you can..." So rather than getting rid of them, he got to work in making them more organic looking. Going so far as to accentuating the detail with care, occasionally looking into the mirror so it would actually match his own. What a good day to be sleep deprived....HAH....crazy how things work out like that, isn't it?

[break][break]

Honestly though...this chick was full of curve balls...asking things that...well...shit, he couldn't think of a single person who saw his tired eyes when he didn't hide them with make-up and actually asked what kept him up at night. Most folks would probably feel their skin crawl as though they were in a thriller or horror, getting asked by the inhuman creation what kept them up at night.... "Well...like, there's a lot of stuff, actually...?" Was he really going to spill such personal tea about himself to a total stranger of a client...?

[break][break]

....yes.

[break][break]

If only because part of him was wondering if maybe his therapist had a point about bottling things up being god awful. The other part...wanted to help her get closer to achieving her goal of being more human-like. It was damn near impossible to learn if no one was willing to share the knowledge they had, "...like...you know how Pro-Heroes save the day n' junk? The media paints em' in a light that they're physically and psychologically stronger than the average person. That they're able to rise above all the bullshit villainous monkeys toss at em'...they don't tell ya that they're talking to therapists n' psychologists about the families that will never be the same because they couldn't save everyone..." Letting out a soft sigh, he carried on, "Coulda been there faster, shoulda done something different, woulda skipped the negotiations with a fuckin' lunatic who's too far gone..."

[break][break]

Pausing for just a moment...like he was offering silence to the past that was behind him from the days he was roped into becoming a Pro-Hero all the way beyond that...so much of his past felt entangled by chain of shoulda, coulda, woulda-- "...but didn't. Didn't do things right enough...that shit keeps me up at night, if I'm bein' real with ya..." Rolling his shoulders into a shrug as he closed his eyes and sighed once more...reopening them, slightly narrowed, "...whaddaya gonna tell people if they ask? Studying? Working? An existential crisis?" Inspecting the black circles he defined to look a little more real as he awaited her response...genuinely curious what an automaton could cook up. After all...she seemed sentient enough to have her own reasons for why she would stay awake if sleep was a necessity in her life...

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CHAOTIC GOOD

CHAOS GREMLIN

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[Marlene Lovechild]

Marlene listened.

She was good at that, it involved her sitting tight and keeping her mouth shut. She also liked doing it, too. It allowed her to learn about people. Right now, she wanted to learn more about Mr. Finnegan. And he was kind enough to tell her something that sounded deeply personal. Was he just that kind of an outgoing person? Or was he trusting her with a secret, somehow? Whatever the reason was, Marlene felt that what he told her was very important, and something she should not be going about telling everyone. 

'He is regretful.'

The automaton girl identified the emotion. Or at least, she thought he did. Analyzing the information made her suspect that her hairdresser was, in fact, a formal hero. Otherwise, he wouldn't be having these thoughts to keep him up at night. 'I would be much more suited for this kind of work...' - Marlene thought to herself. 'I would likely not feel anything at all...' - she added in her mind. But then her mind raced to figure out what to say, once an awkward pause appeared at the end of that heart-felt eye-to-eye. The girl knew she was supposed to say something uplifting. Her eyes moved a bit left to right, as if she were reading. She was trying to find a similar situation in the memory of books she wrote. No dice. This was the first time being treated this way. 

'I want to make him feel better.'

Her chest rose and fell, as if she took a breath.

"In the Academy, we are told that, in the field, we operate on incomplete information." - she chose her words carefully. "It could lead to suboptimal results ... through no fault of the person taking action."

A roundabout way to say 'you're not to blame'. When the topic briefly changed towards the eyebags, Marlene blinked, as if realigning her mind to support a new conversation. It took her a second or two to consider the answer.

"I work nightshifts at a 7/11 store, in order to contribute to the family budget. It would explain the tired look." - she said, lifting her gaze, to meet the reflection of the taller man's eyes in the mirror.


"Are you a Hero, mr. Finnegan?"