thecapitol | where'd my hair go, where'd my hair go, can't find it anymore

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where'd my hair go, where'd my hair go, can't find it anymore

Who| Elsa and Oceana
What| Elsa comes to Oceana for a makeover
Where| Oceana's workshop
When| Backdated to a few days after the blackout
Warnings/Notes| N/A

It feels like it's been a long road she's walked to reach this moment. If you asked her months ago if she ever thought she would come to a point in her life where she felt a physical makeover was necessary, she would be confused. But with everything that's happened and everything looming on the horizon, she feels like change is necessary. She's nervous, but she feels like it's the right thing to do. An outward change, to go with the one swirling inside.

Picking her way through the destroyed and vandalized (partly thanks to her) tribute tower is a chore, and a little nerve wracking, but in a way it only strengthens her resolve. This is the right thing to do. She doesn't know what she'll come out looking like, but she hopes it will match the way she feels inside- if that's even possible at this point. She still has a ways to go before she's who she needs to be to face the things going on here, but she's trying.

Elsa finally makes it to the queen's workshop door, and for the longest moment she stands outside of it, her hand hovering just in front of the door, willing herself to knock. It's one thing knowing it's the right thing to do, but she's still nervous. She's always tried to make sure stylists don't change her drastically, and for the moment she's succeeded. Now, she's giving free reign and she has no idea what will happen. But at the same time, the more she thinks about it, the more that little surge of adrenaline starts showing itself. The one that always seems to when things get dangerous, the one that fuels her out of her comfort zone and enjoys it.

Finally, after what is probably only a full minute but feels like an eternity, Elsa knocks.

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Oceana waves a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. I've dealt with worse, you know?" She only stares as the young Queen explains why she's here. As if she'd turn away a willing client.

"Honey, please. Sit down, okay? And tell me what you want." She's itching to do something more than a trim; people are so attached to their hairstyles sometimes. She ushers Elsa towards her stylists' chair. "Right here, baby. I'd love to help you."

Elsa's eyebrows quirk together momentarily as she wonders just what sort of thing could be worse than this. It's scary to think about it, but the feeling deep in the pit of her stomach says that it's probably all going to escalate to that level, if not worse. No one's seen the worst of it yet.

"Are you sure?" Her tone is still apologetic, but Oceana seems eager and so Elsa lets out a small sigh. There's a small part of her that might've been hoping that Oceana was too busy, if only because she's nervous. So Elsa moves over and sits down, her body rigid as she sits in the chair. "Thank you," she says, giving Oceana a smile in the mirror.

Deep breath. Calming breath. It's okay, Elsa. She isn't holding scissors just yet. "I'm not... sure what I want," she admits. "But I want to be different, I- I want..." Elsa chews at her bottom lip as she tries to get it out without giving away her real feelings, that she wants to resemble the rebel she feels inside. "Everyone- everyone has this image of me," she blurts out. "Of this... naive, innocent queen. Pretty, sophisticated, royal-" She lets out a laugh. "Can I let you in on a secret? I threw away my crown- before I was brought here, I gave up my title. I'm... I'm not a queen. I'm not who people paint me as." As she speaks, she starts feeling more and more confident in this decision. "I'm not who I need to be. But I'm on that road, I'm... I'm on the right track. But I'm still changing, and I- I need... something to reflect that, I think."

Elsa certainly spoke more than she had intended, but... all of that is something she's bottled up for a long time, all of her reasoning for this, all of the conflicting emotions she's felt in regards to being queen. It's all been there, waiting to come out. She wants to be a queen, but she wants to be a queen she can be proud of. In the past, she's ran away from conflict and been too afraid to face the Capitol. But now she's getting ready for that, she's starting to become that queen. It feels good.

Oceana can't help but notice how her charge is so tense, and it tugs at her heartstrings. Mostly because she knows exactly how scary it can be to change. She can remember being a skinny sixteen year old, terrified by the idea of transforming--turning into something far more fabulous and beautiful than Oliver ever was. And now, well, she's far happier for it. And she knows that sometimes, people just need a little nudge. A confidence boost.

She lays well-manicured hands on Elsa's shoulders, petting them down soothingly. And even though the things Elsa tells her are surprising, she doesn't let it show, aside from looking mildly impressed.

"So what you're saying," she says, conspiratorially, "is that you're way more badass than people think." Gently, she starts to take out Elsa's braid, combing through the sections with her fingers. "You know what? I think you're right. I think it's time we changed your image. Showed them the real you." And it might sound like an image-obsessed Capitolite talking, but Oceana's speaking from the heart. Change is important. It's empowering. And even though she doesn't know Elsa very well, she's watched her in the Arena. Seen what a kind, sweet person she is--but also seen that she's not afraid to take a stand. To do the right thing. She took a bullet for her sister, for christ's sake.

Oceane meets Elsa's gaze in the mirror. "I think I know exactly what you need." With the braid all combed out, she can get a sense of exactly what Elsa's hair is like, and she's already got ideas. She crosses over to the computer panel next to the mirror and begins flipping through a virtual lookbook. She lands eventually on a model with short, blonde hair, cut choppy in the front with bangs similar to Elsa's, and short in the back.

"Something with a little edge, no?"

If Elsa were to know about Oceana's experiences, she would truly feel much more at ease and comfortable with her fellow queen and like they have more in common. But she doesn't, which is unfortunate. But as it is, her little confession has her feeling... lighter, more relaxed. Like a weight off her shoulders. Oceana doesn't intimidate her so much anymore, because she doesn't feel afraid of what might come of this, like she usually does.

Elsa lets out a nervous little laugh as Oceana mentions being a badass. She supposes in a sense, yes. That's what she wants- but she can't bring herself to say it in so many words, so she gives a small nod as Oceana begins combing through her now loose hair. She smiles when Oceana says she's right, feeling relieved. "Exactly," she says, and her grin widens into something genuine, less afraid. "I'm so glad you understand."

There's still a small part of her that's afraid, but Oceana's assurance that she has something in mind is nice, the smile staying on her lips as she watches Oceana mess with the computer panel. But then, her eyes widen at what comes up on the screen.

"Oh!" Her hands go up immediately to her hair, taking hold of it almost protectively. "I- it's..." Elsa swallows. It's not that she dislikes the haircut, not at all- in fact, she thinks it's spot on with the idea she has in her head of what someone going through what she is should look like. But her hair- she's had it for so long, it's always been this way. "So short," she finally finishes, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you, um... sure that it would look good on me?"

Idly, she runs her hands through her hair, hands tense as she gets a feel for it for what could be the last time. She's not going to back out of this, not at all, but she's afraid of losing what she's had for so long. Irrationally, her mind goes back to childhood, her mother braiding her hair. It's where she learned to braid, and the memory hits her like a truck, tears coming to her eyes before she can fight them back. "Sorry- sorry, this is... I'm sorry,' she says, wiping at her eyes. "I'm being silly."

"Of course I do." Oceana hesitates for a moment, wavering on the point of making herself vulnerable. But that's not a good idea; she doesn't really do vulnerable, and that's dangerous besides. So she simply settles on, "I know what it's like. Needing a change." And if anyone knows badass, it's this queen right here. So Elsa's in good hands, needless to say.

She's not at all surprised by Elsa's reaction to the image. It's pretty common for her tributes to express some hesitation when it comes to chopping off their long, pretty locks. "It is," she agrees, but frowns when Elsa questions whether or not she could pull it off. "Of course it would." She presses a few more buttons, swiping through images on the panel--luckily, she's loaded in images of each of her tributes for just this purpose. Finally, she finds Elsa's, and within moments, the young queen will be staring down an image of herself sporting the new cut. "See? Perfect. It complements your face shape just fucking right."

But--oh. Elsa's eyes are welling up, and Oceana rushes back, feeling awkward. Not that it's an uncommon reaction. "Don't worry, baby, it grows back. It's just hair." She pets down Elsa's shoulders again, gently pulling back the length of her hair so it's out of sight aside from a few strategic pieces on the side, and her bangs. "See? Not so bad."

Elsa feels incredibly silly for tearing up the way she is, honestly. She hears everything Oceana says and she takes it to heart, but it's still a big step and not one that's easy to make, especially with old memories hitting her out of nowhere like they just did. "Sorry," she says again, as Oceana rushes over to her, wiping at her eyes quickly. She knows it's a silly thing to cry over, that those memories are just that- memories. She has to let them go, she has to do this.

She sniffs quietly as Oceana pats her shoulders and then moves her hair the way she does, and... well, she can't deny it. It gives her a better sense of what it might look like, and honestly it's pretty nice. Actually, it's better than nice, it really does look good. She lets out a breathy laugh, wiping the couple of remaining tears that slid down her cheeks, before giving Oceana a nod.

"You're right," she says. "You're absolutely right, so... so let's do it." Oceana doesn't need to know the reason for her crying, that it was over memories from her childhood. She'll let Oceana believe it's just stress from cutting off her hair. "I'm ready," she adds after a moment, sounding more firm in her conviction.

"You're fine, you're fine," the queen soothes, still petting her hands along Elsa's shoulders. She reaches over to the tissue box on the vanity and offers one to the young queen. "Dab at your eyes, don't wipe, or you'll fuck up your makeup," she instructs kindly. She's normally not one to be so patient and kind, but when it comes to her tributes, to helping someone be more confident and brave, that's Oceana's forte.

"That's my girl," she crows triumphantly, when Elsa finally agrees to take the plunge. Immediately, she sets into action, tugging a black cape around Elsa's shoulders and fastening it behind her neck. She starts to comb Elsa's hair into sections, clipping them up deftly. "You're gonna love it, I promise."

She does as Oceana instructs and just dabs at her eyes, taking slow and deep breaths so that she doesn't lose her cool again. It's getting easier, thankfully. Oceana's upbeat attitude is helping and as the cape slips around her shoulders, Elsa closes her eyes and waits as the queen sections her hair.

This isn't so bad.

"I believe you," she says, giving a small smile. "I think I might keep my eyes closed, though. Just so it can be a surprise."

Oceana lets out a quiet chuckle, under her breath. "Fine by me, honey." Taking the bottom, longest layer of Elsa's hair into hand, she takes up her scissors and takes off the majority of its length in one fell swoop, without even saying anything. The white-blonde strands fall to the floor in a tangle, and the queen grins.

"The good news is, the hard part is over." She runs her fingers through the cropped ends of Elsa's hair, before pulling down another section and beginning to cut the rest of her length down.

Even if she's still a little shaken, Elsa realizes she's right. The hard part is over, she's starting to handle it better. After a few more long moments, she finally has the courage to actually open her eyes.

It's not the prettiest sight since the haircut isn't finished, but true to the picture she'd seen, she doesn't look awful with short hair. Elsa smiles a little, letting out a small giggle. "It isn't so bad," she says quietly. "I can't wait to see it finished."

Oceana grins, already well into cutting and shaping Elsa's hair into an adorable little pixie cut. She's got fast fingers, like fuckin' Quick Draw McGraw with a pair of shears, and she's never been afraid to work fast. Especially when the potential for a bad reaction is so high. She doesn't want to give Elsa time to get nervous again.

"Not so bad? Baby, this shows off that amazing bone structure of yours perfectly. You're gonna have to beat the men back with a stick." She pauses. "Or the ladies." She hadn't missed that moment with Harley in the SUV, that's obvious.

If it's Oceana's goal to distract her, she definitely does a good job because that last remark is enough to get her eyes widening and her mind absolutely off of the hair for the moment as her cheeks flush red, a stark contrast to such pale skin. "I- you- I mean..." She clears her throat, trying to get herself together. "That was... a one time thing..." she says slowly, swallowing hard. "I was- it was in the moment, and I've- I've been- well, things are complicated..."

Oceana chortles, not expecting such a strong reaction, and pulls her scissors away from Elsa's neck before the poor thing impales herself on them.

"Hey, hey, forget I ever mentioned it. Ain't nothing wrong with experimenting, okurrr?" She laughs. "Hell, I kissed a girl, once. It was awful, that bitch had cheap lipstick on and it tasted like ass."

It should be scandalous to Elsa, but somehow Oceana's response makes her laugh. "Well, that does sound awful."

But as she comes down from such a strong reaction, it's hard not to feel bad about it- not to mention a little awkward. It was probably a bit telling, all things considered. "I- I guess... a part of me regrets it, you know?" she finally says. "I mean, it was... it was so in the moment. And it's- it's not even the fact she's a woman, either. I mean, I never in my life thought that I would kiss another woman, but..."

It's obvious she wants to talk about it, with the way she's suddenly rambling.

"I guess I just never expected it to be with someone like Harley. I thought my first kiss would be..." She sighs. "Romantic. But in hindsight, it was so very much the opposite- I just wish it could've... been magical. It's dumb- I'm sorry."

Oceana's a good listener--she's proved that time and time again with her other Tributes--and she's happy to lend an ear, pleased that Elsa seems to be opening up to her. It's a leap, confiding in one's Stylist or Escort, of all people, but O likes to think she's trustworthy.

"Hey, shh, honey, don't worry. Your first kiss might have sucked, but between you and me? They all do. You'll have a much better second kiss, and third, and fourth." She squeezes Elsa's shoulder, then brushes away some hair clippings. "Besides, there's a screw loose on Harley. You're best off staying away from that one."

Oceana really is a good listener, it's true. Once she's launched into her little ramble, Elsa doesn't feel like she's being judged, nor does she feel too awkward about it. Honestly, she feels... relieved, to have finally gotten some of what she's been keeping in, out. It's when Oceana says the last bit that has Elsa hesitating, like some fears she's had deep down are being confirmed.

"Could you elaborate on that?" she asks, sounding surprisingly calm. Honestly, a part of why she kissed Harley might've had to do with that- the danger. Caught up in the moment, so fed up with everything. It was easy to just throw herself into the moment, and now once again she's done something she regrets.

Oceana lets out a quiet hum. How best to phrase this?

"Well, let's see. The first time I met her, she oh-so-casually mentioned robbing a goddamn bank for fun with her girlfriends. So that was my first clue. It's not hard to figure out from there."

Elsa presses a hand to her forehead and lets out a tired sigh once Oceana has spoken. It's... honestly not surprising to her. She's been in denial about Harley for far too long. She's met enough genuine people to realize when someone isn't quite so genuine, and she's tried to deny it, but she can't any longer. Is she upset? Yes. But it's one of those calm upsets. Accepting. She's known for this long, now it's just confirmed.

"I knew," she says after a long moment. "Deep down, I knew she... wasn't everything she pretened to be. It's not hard, when I've met so many real people. I guess I just wanted to pretend that what friendship we had wasn't as rocky as it is. And I guess..."

She stops herself, because what she's about to get into is a lot of complex feelings in regards to a certain man from the southern isles, and she isn't sure if she wants to go there right now. "It's nothing," she says dismissively. "Nothing but a mistake, anyway."

Oceana goes on snipping away at Elsa's hair as the young queen goes on talking. She purses her lips, but doesn't interject, as curious as she is to know what Elsa had been about to say. Instead she just runs her fingers through Elsa's newly cropped hair in a soothing manner.

"It's okay to make mistakes, honey. We all do it." She puts her head down next to Elsa's, chin hovering over her shoulder. "The good news is, this hairstyle? Definitely not a mistake." She lifts Elsa's chin with one finger, encouraging her to look up into the mirror. "Look how gorgeous you are."

Elsa always has a hard time when it comes to these things, because she's one of those people who beat themselves up more than they should. But, Oceana's words are comforting, even if she still feels like an idiot for doing what she did.

She looks up slowly at Oceana's urging, and instead of gasping or looking put out, she actually smiles. "I look... I look amazing," she breathes softly, taken aback at how good it looks. The simulation from before has nothing on what she looks like now, and maybe it's a desire for change that's making her look at it in such a positive light, but she feels new. This is the perfect way to let go of her old self, and all reservations from before are gone.

Elsa runs her hand through it, letting out a small laugh at how short it feels and how much lighter her head is. "I can't believe how different I look, I... thank you," she says, reaching up to tug Oceana down into a tight hug. "This is exactly what I wanted."

When Elsa smiles like that, at the sight of her new haircut, it makes Oceana feel like her whole job isn't a depressing waste. Dressing people up to die--it can get sad, fast. But the look on Elsa's face makes it worth it, and the queen lets out a little noise of surprise at the sudden hug. But she's quick to hug back, giving the young Queen a gentle squeeze.

"You're welcome, baby." She stands upright and brushes down her skirt. "Okay, now, I've got one last trick up my sleeve. You're gonna love it."

She gets busy again; mixing up a bowl full of coppery goop, carefully brushing it onto a strand of Elsa's hair, wrapping it in foil, and leaving it sit. She chatters away the entire time, excited to see Elsa's reaction. After the appropriate amount of time, she removes the foil, rinses out the strand of hair, and runs over it with a blow-dryer, styling her hair into a messy, pushed-back style reminiscent of her usual look. And woven through one side is a streak of strawberry-blonde that matches the shade of Anna's hair exactly.

Elsa smiles as Oceana hugs her back, letting out a soft giggle at the noise Oceana lets out. When the queen straightens up and declares she has one more surprise, Elsa is pretty intrigued. They've gone this far without Oceana screwing her over, so she sincerely doubts that the queen would do anything she wouldn't like.

Her curiosity and intrigue grows as Oceana mixes up a bowl of some weird smelling goop, before moving in to brush it onto a strand of her hair. She isn't quite sure that this is supposed to accomplish, never having experienced hair dye before.

After chatting it up and after finally rinsing it out, Elsa sees the final result and she can't help but gasp. It's hard not to be startled by it, both because she's not used to having any of her hair colored, and because she knows exactly what Oceana is going for. It's silly, but she can't help but tear up a little bit.

"I-" she sniffs lightly. "I must have something in my eye," she says, letting out a giggle. "It's lovely, Oceana... it really is. Thank you so much." She's given her a little piece of Anna that she can take anywhere, how could she not be grateful for that?

Oceana can only grin widely at the sight of Elsa's reaction--the tears are really what makes it, she has to admit, and she leans down to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"You're welcome, baby," she chirps. "I'm glad you like it. And I bet your sister will just fall all over herself in excitement when she sees it."

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where'd my hair go, where'd my hair go, can't find it anymore

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