Do the splits, thou milk-livered maggot pie!

[onteamdyson]

Who: Kenzi and Galen!
Where: House 20!
When: Day 47 - Afternoonish
What: Bad Russian lessons, band meeting, and makeovers!
Warnings: Swearing in two languages, sickeningly cute friendship junk, that's probably about it...

It's kind of ridiculous how totally horrible and shitty things got when Galen wasn't around and how much freaking better it was with him back. It definitely made it easier to smile and keep going despite the fact that this place was getting worse by the day. Why be broody, and pouty, and serious when you can joke around with your bff and be educational at the same time?

"Okay, okay, so this one seriously comes in handy sometimes. Etot mužčina platit za vsë." She speaks slowly and enunciates clearly so he can repeat after her. They have a system. If he gets it right, they move on and try the next random thing she can think of. If he fucks it up, he gets a pillow to the face! Actually, that's kind of how most things work in this house.

She grins at him encouragingly, pillow at the ready.

Comments

[gleans]

It's a good distraction. Galen's sure that otherwise, whether at home or here, he would be spending far too much time dwelling on what happened -- especially at home, with the uncomfortable state of his friends. They don't trust him. It's a miracle Jesse trusts him, again. But Kenzi hasn't stopped trusting him - probably only because she has no idea how bad it was - and the best part is, she doesn't seem to care. He wonders if maybe that's a lapse in judgement, but -- it doesn't matter. Because when he hangs out with her, he feels good, and that's what's important. He needs some time in the day to spend with someone who wasn't part of that mess.

Galen leans back against the headboard, nodding with a concentrated expression as she speaks, trying to remember the phrase. There's something musical about languages, which is why he's pretty good at memorizing things. And that's why, as he repeats it (and tries not to laugh), he gets it mostly right. Mostly. He needs a visual reference!

"-- Fuck!" Grinning, he braces for pillowy impact. "You better not be making me say crazy shit."

[onteamdyson]

It's only a light hit, since he got it mostly right. She's seriously considering moving this shit up to actual lessons the next time with how easily he's pronouncing and repeating. But no Cyrillic alphabet, oh god, she doesn't want to melt his brain. "Not crazy. Useful. You just said 'This gentleman will pay for everything.' Drop that line in a Soviet bar with an English-speaking mark and you just got free drinks for the night, babycakes!"

She's used it on more than one occasion. See? Useful.

"But if crazy is what you want," She smiles devilishly, "I got a lot of that stashed away. Oh! This was a fun one growing up. Got to hear it every time my aunt came over. Shluha vokzal'naja! I'm not even kidding you, it means train station whore. Totes common expression."

[gleans]

Even if it was phonetic! He slowly mouths it to himself again as she tells him what it means, and he grins. Somehow, he's not surprised that she's telling him how to sneak free drinks in Russian and not, you know, something useful.

He grabs for the pillow as she continues -- and snorts at the translation. Train station whore. "Shluha vokzal -- fuck, you know what, that'd make a great band name, I'm just saying."

[onteamdyson]

Hey! He can't have the discipline pillow-- woah, wait. Hang on, total epiphany here. "Dude. That is so cool. It totally would. CLAIMING IT! That's our band name. When we get out of here, we'll get uber famous and when we tour Russia, they'll think it's hilarious! But everywhere else will think it's so cutting edge and... ethnic."

Or, you know, they could just be stuck here forever with a stupid inside joke that no one will get except them with no fame, no fortune, and possibly die a gruesome death. But at least they'd die... as a BAND! Mental fistpump.

"It's either that or FACEPUNCH! Punching the faces of the masses with rock." Here, let her demonstrate by essentially tackling poor Galen and getting him in a headlock and softly mock-punching his face. This is friendship, people.

[gleans]

Oh no! The glasses! Galen cackles, one hand pushing at her face, but look: he's trying not to mess up the eyeliner. Real friendship.

"Okay -- okay, okay, no, not Facepunch. Shluha baks-whatever wins."

[onteamdyson]

If he had messed up her eyeliner, she would have seriously considered breaking his glasses before opting not to because that's just mean. Yes. Friendship. Facepunch would just have to be her intensely loud, metal side project with Kobra and Jesse.

Kenzi releases him and collapses back on the bed, carefully pulling her hair out from under her. "If you're gonna be on stage with me, we gotta work on your look. No way you're embarrassing me in front of the adoring public, dude."

[gleans]

"Uh, who's the rockstar here?" Raising his eyebrows, Galen reaches up and pushes at his hair, semi-fixing it. He leans on his arm, back on the bed. "I should at least do something about my fucking hair."

[onteamdyson]

"Self-proclaimed rockstar! Other than Stiles going starry-eyed whenever he sees you near a guitar, I don't have any concrete proof that you're totally uber famous and badass." But she believes him anyway, obviously. It's just more fun to give him a hard time about these things. She's keeping him grounded, okay? Humble pie in human form.

"What's wrong with your hair? Other than it being shorter. Why is it shorter. Did you get it cut when you went home? It was totes hot the way it was." Uh-- yeah, no, she means hot. It was hot. Still hot, but different. "The heck else can you even do to it now, anyway? Pretty sure dyeing it red is off the table."

[gleans]

He grins slowly when she talks about his hair, but -- okay. Yes. He snorts and runs his hand back through it again.

"Yeah, they cut it at the hospital, I guess it was part of cleaning me up." A shrug. "It's just driving me nuts, y'know? It's been the same forever." And he can't look in the mirror without seeing that. "... No way am I going red, dude, don't worry."

[onteamdyson]

Oooooh no, oops, not-- no hospital talk. Panic flashes across her face briefly, but she brushes it off and scrunches up her face instead. Concentrating. Hmmmm. She sits up again, definitely invading some personal space to stare. Can't have him going crazy, and she damn well knows that urge to change it up. Holy damn, she misses her wigs.

"Kobra gets me to touch up his roots sometimes. What if we bleached it?" It could work! He's got the complexion. And it's not like she has many other colour options lying around here. She bounces a bit, grinning, actually getting kind of excited at the prospect. "Bet you there's some shiz at the pharmacy... or we could check the bathrooms. What do you think!?"

[gleans]

Galen wants to tell her not to worry about the mention of hospital stuff - come on, he's not fragile - but she changes the subject quickly enough. Then he's grinning slowly, imagining the burn and imagining the colour draining out of his hair, taking all the weight of dread with it, like it's leaking out of his brain. It can be a fresh start, at least for a little while. And on top of that, it could be fun.

"I think that's... definitely worth checking out." He grins. "As long as you're not talking industrial bleach."

[onteamdyson]

"SERIOUSLY?! ... Industrial-- excuse your face. Do you think these bangs magically stay so perfectly shaped all by themselves? Also--" She flips some of her hair over her shoulder to showcase the streak of blonde hiding under there. "I got skills, Squishy. Don't even worry. Your celebri-cranium is in good hands."

But she can see why he would think she used the stuff on Kobra. Industrial bleach would explain a lot with that Kid.

Kenzi legit squeals! "So we're doing this?! For real? RIGHT NOW?! Let's go find the stuff." She grabs his wrist in both hands and tugs. Come on. Come with her. Let's go! Excitement! Hair products! So fab.

[gleans]

This is happening! Galen's a little excited, a little nervous, but what the hell -- it's hair, it grows back. This is going to be therapeutic. Grin mischeivous, he sits up properly and slides off the bed, playfully twirling Kenzi once, then letting go of her hands.

"We're doin' it, man," he says. "Quick, before I change my mind."

[onteamdyson]

They are totally doing this. Their hunt doesn't last long! In the lesser-used of the too-many bathrooms in this house that is clearly way the fuck too big for three people, there is, luckily, A TREASURE TROVE OF HAIR PRODUCTS. What a coincidence. Who woulda thunk it.

After a few exclamations ('SCORE!', 'FUCK YES', etc.) and a victory dance, Kenzi's reading the back of the bottle of developer and crinkling the package of powder bleach. "Mix into blah blah blah and blah blah some minutes, blah. I got this. Sit!"

You better sit, Galen. She's grinning from ear to ear. Less sugary-sweet, more LETS PUT SOME GUNK ON YOUR HEAD AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS! But seriously, she sets the package on the counter and puts a hand on his shoulder. Look how serious she's being. Serious face. "Galen... do you trust me with your hotness? And do you promise to let me hide behind you if I fuck this up and Jesse doesn't approve?"