Shards

Brush It Off

As Octavia wakes, she feels something in her face. She opens her eyes to see nothing but Shard's eyes.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" Shard chimes.

Octavia shouts and flies back in surprise. Her body slams against the wall.

Shard falls over laughing.

"Your face," he says in between laughs, "was so priceless."

On the floor, he reenacts her wide eyes, yelp, and jump back. Highly amused by his performance, he curls up in laughter.

His laughs bring a gnarled, twitching smile on Octavia's face. Shard begins to calm but sees Octavia's face and starts laughing all over again. Octavia's face presses into a scowl. This calms Shard's laughs.

Breathless on the floor and wiping tears from his eyes, Shard says, "That...was good."

"You are so childish," Octavia says under her breath with crossed arms.

Shard sits up.

"And ya looked like a terrified bridge monster. Have ya seen what you looked like lately?"

Octavia had not taken much care to look at herself since she cried the other day, and she did not look great then. Now, she can feel the grease in her hair fluffed up on one side from bedhead. Unpleasant, slightly odorous oil has accumulated on her body, especially on her face that has a special sticky feeling where the abundance of makeup she had put on for the party had not been washed off. Bitter-tasting grime has built up on her teeth, and she can taste the foulness of her breath. Smallest hints of whatever chemical she inhaled is mixed with peanut butter, jelly, and plaque.

The thought of showering and grooming hadn't crossed her mind. Even if it had, she had no brush for her hair or teeth nor had toiletries to wash or dry herself with.

Shard sits himself in a chair, crosses his legs, and places folded hands in his lap.

"And this brings us to today's meeting." He mocks a professional, posh voice. "Put simply, you look and are beginning to reek like a rat. This must change if you are to become one of our next top models."

"What?" Octavia says.

Shard stands and puts a finger over her lips. "Shush, Darling."

With cutting eyes, Octavia instinctually swats his hand off her face. Her chest and arms tense up when she realizes what she's done. She waits for Shard to react or lash out against her.

His eyes crinkle in a smile. He resumes his character.

Octavia's tension releases, but she stays on guard.

"We must fix," Shard waves his hand in a circle in front of Octavia, "this. And the first step to fixing," he waves his hand again, "this, is this!"

Shard shoves his hand in the faux-leather jacket he wears. Octavia presses her back against the wall. He is going to draw his weapon on her. This is her punishment for hitting him.

He whips something out. Octavia squeezes her eyes shut and draws her arms and legs to herself to protect her face and abdomen.

"Darling," Shard says, "if you're afraid of things such as this, I fear your modeling career and my contract are at stake."

Octavia peeks between her arms. "A hairbrush?"

"Yes, Deary," Shard says. "Catch."

Octavia uncurls to catch the round hairbrush but reaches too far to the left. It clatters against the metal bed. The guards outside jump and snap around with their weapons ready.