estoria | [Closed] Come on, Vogue...

[Closed] Come on, Vogue...

Who: Johnny Joestar and

protectthecastle
When: IC 8/14
Where: Porta Caelestis Spa
What: Veronica gets to find out first-hand what all Jojos are best at. Posing. Lots of posing.
Rating/Warning: Nope

[Johnny's occupations in Cerealia were strange, to say the least, but they paid well enough and weren't too hard, so he wasn't going to complain. Show up a couple times a month to have someone paint his nails, put a bunch of stuff on his hair and face, and then take photos? Well, he'd certainly done worse for less.

He'd sent her a text(instant portable telegrams were still a really strange concept) with the time and place ahead of time and set off for the spa. His nails were... definitely chipped and needed new paint since the last time, but the staff was quick to get their newest set applied and ready to go without complaint. Ombre seemed to be popular lately, with squared-off ends and lots of glitter. Huh.

They'd wanted a more natural look today, so he was without his usual hoodie, but also his signature cap. Hair was teased and fluffed and sprayed with all sorts of aerosols and his face was powdered, lips colored, all the usual. He wasn't sure how people handled going to this sort of effort every day, but hey, he didn't have to lift a finger until the light rigs and camera people arrived anyway. He glanced at the door occasionally, watching for Veronica to arrive.]

[ooc: Art by Ryugue that seemed to fit so well for Johnny today lol]

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[To live every day without marveling over how wonderful the world could be, and how wonderful people could be if you only gave them the chance was what Veronica could not understand. She walks to him as she walks through life, back straight and proud, unafraid of what life could throw at her, openly curious about absolutely everything.

And he should know by now that it takes real effort to out-smooth Veronica, who distributed compliments sincerely and with no thought other than to make the people she cared about happy. If she noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt-

Oh, who are we kidding, she didn't even notice beyond noting its absence and wondering if he was cold at all and then immediately looking back to his face once again.]

If you are modelling, I am certain that they will sell many.

[She reaches down to see if he'll let her take on of his hands with hers, wanting to get a better look at the manicure.]

And thank you. [For thinking that she looked nice. She smiles brightly at him for the compliment.]

I have not yet decided. I thought perhaps someone here would have an idea? Or perhaps they will teach me how to braid it? I have never been able to work it out on my own. Though the manicures do look very nice, as well.

[Johnny, on the other hand, took the glance and the words that followed quite a bit differently. A girl didn't give you the once-over and say something like that if she didn't mean something by it. He could feel his face getting a little red around the edges and the tips of his ears to match and dammit-- no hat to hide 'em behind.]

Keep sayin' that kinda shit, I'm gonna think you're flirting with me Veronica.

[As if that were possible. Not when he was broken like this. She was a nice person, but they were just words and he puts them from his mind almost as quickly.

He doesn't move when she reaches for his hand, just lets her take it the same way the staff here do, turning it every which way, telling him to twist his wrist or point a finger or whatever else while they worked on 'em. If she wanted to see, he wasn't about to argue, though he did fidget a little in his chair, watching her expression, even if her gaze was elsewhere.]

There's some magazines near the front.

[He uses his free hand to gesture toward them.]

But you should get a manicure. Then I'll know I've sold at least one.

[He smirks a little at that and shrugs his shoulders. ]

[There's that lilt in his voice again, which she has heard often enough now that she recognizes as being something he slips into whenever something is bothering him (or flustering him though she can't imagine that anything she's doing could potentially fluster anyone). She's not aware that what she's doing could constitute as flirting (does this mean nearly everyone she's been interacting with and has complimented before thought that she was flirting too?). At the moment, he was her friend. He was someone who had cute hair that flipped all over thanks to his hat, who took her on a ride on his horse, who had tried to protect her more than once.

Even with the gesture at the magazines, she doesn't immediately respond. It's an out she could have taken but she's never been one to run away when there was what she thought of as a bigger issue right in front of her.]

...Then I will get a manicure.

[She's still holding his hands as she thinks, trying to work out why wanting to make him smile made what she said flirting and why that troubled him, her eyes trained firmly on his nails, fingertips tracing over the shape of his fingers before she abruptly looks back at him. There was only one way to figure it out, a way that she's always used since being a small, curious child: asking.]

And...I am not...flirting. I am not entirely certain how one flirts. [The only kind of flirting she had been made aware of was Angelo's unsubtle brand of putting his arms around her proprietorially and kissing her whenever he wanted which she had not appreciated very much.]

I like you. I wish for you to know what I am thinking and to make you smile. But if you do not like it, I will stop. I do not wish to make you uncomfortable. [With that said, she lets go and starts walking to get a magazine, aiming to come back as soon as she had one.]

[He feels a bit guilty for blurting that out, especially when Veronica seemed so surprised to hear it. He knew she didn't mean anything by it; she was just a genuine sort of person, but who wasn't going to get a little hot under the collar if a pretty girl was saying things like that?!

Really though, he had to get that under control. It was only going to worry her and he couldn't afford to think of anyone like that. It would just get him all tore up inside for no reason.

He had to wait a moment, as she got the last word in, until she came back with a magazine. Gave him a second to chew over his words, but in the end it just made him increasingly flustered. Damn.]

N...nah, it's fine. Sorry I said anythin'. It doesn't bother me, I'm just-- I'm not used to to hearin' stuff like that.

[Not anymore at least.

He rubs the side of his neck and dodges eye-contact. Being raised in the Joestar family, his father just... didn't look kindly on that sorta talk.]

You don't gotta put yourself out tryin' to make me smile or nothin'. I like ya fine enough already.

[They were just starting to set up the lighting rigs, big white umbrellas on sticks and reflectors and everything that went with it. Made for something a little easier to watch than trying to meet his friend's eyes.]

[He's still bothered, and she can hear it in his voice again even as she carefully pulls a chair over so she can sit down.]

Do not apologize. [Not for speaking his mind. If anything, she liked it when people were honest with her and the last thing she wanted to do was to make it so that he'd stop. Veronica leaves the magazine in her lap, following his eyes to where they're setting up and even though she watches, her mind is anywhere but on the lighting rigs.]

I am glad that you like me. I am happy that you do. Truly. It is just...I have always thought that I would like the people I care about to know. I want to see you smile. You have done so much for me, and I would do the same for you. It is not a bother to me. I want to tell you, if you will listen.

[Because she's spent so long back in Zerestria being the forgotten princess. The one whose parents had died when she was young and who had been relegated to a castle far away from the capital, the one who had no real power and no allies in high places, who had spent all her life ignored and talked over and who had grown silent in the face of people she knew did not care enough to listen to her.

And it was because of that, that people who treated her kindly were given the same treatment almost tenfold. Being forgotten only made her more determined to remember people's names, to remember the tidbits of their lives that they fed to her, birthdays for people she would never meet, the names of books she would never be able to read. She took an interest because she wanted to be that someone who would.]

And I am sorry that you are not used to hearing it. I think that you deserve to.

[Such an odd request. Not like he had a smile any prettier than anyone else, he just... didn't do it as often. Maybe it was habit, maybe just a defense mechanism he'd learned over the years, but it didn't come as natural, not to him.

The last though, that struck a nerve. You deserve to.

Shit, he didn't deserve anything, let alone a friend like Veronica. He was a selfish crybaby at the best of times, and even if he fought for what he wanted-- in the race, in his childhood, in life in general-- it was for those same selfish reasons. Besides, even if he had a pretty face(he'd taken after his mother, everyone said), it didn't mean the rest of him was anything worth looking twice at.]

I think they're ready for me. You're welcome to stay and watch.

[He wasn't sure what else to say, so a change in subject seemed like the safest option. He was kind of glad that he had something else to distract himself with before the thoughts began to eat at him. Confidence, he could fake easily enough, and he gave her a nod and smile that was a barely-quirked corner of his mouth before turning his wheels toward the set up.

It didn't take long to park his chair and get himself seated where they directed him, though he had to be careful of the manicure. Last time he'd chipped one and they'd fussed over it for a good twenty minutes to get it back the way they wanted. The set today was fairly simple, draped fabric background, a camera set on a tripod and one in the photographer's hand, and a few of those umbrella lights. He gave Veronica a sort of wave as they were getting started.]

[It isn't about his smile bring prettier. But it is about him deserving happiness. It's naivety, maybe, that has her believing in that and trying so hard for everyone in her life regardless of who they are or what they may have done. She believes not only that they deserve better things, but that they are really much better people than even they think that they are.

So when he changes the subject, she stays exactly where she is, exactly as she is, staring at him and knowing that this is him turning away from the subject. She isn't convinced in the least, but she does wonder if it is something that she's done even as he smiles at her.]

I will stay.

[She doesn't smile, her worry showing clearly on her face as he leaves and someone comes to her to show her nail polish colours and ask her about her hair. Veronica always keeps half an eye on him even as she chooses to get an ombre in shades of blue, and someone starts to curl her hair.]

[It's a little odd when they part and Veronica isn't smiling and Johnny feels a stab of guilt in his gut. At least the worry doesn't show on his face; he's gotten fairly good at a perpetually annoyed sort of expression. He shifts a little on the floor where they've set up and takes direction from the photographer, changing his pose every minute or two after the flash has gone off, displaying the nails near his face or on a bare shoulder.

He's relieved when the staff start helping her with her hair and nails; hopefully she'll enjoy it and forget the stupid shit he'd said. Dumb, definitely dumb.

The bad part about the shoot was that it was really hard to get out of his own head. He could take the simple direction, hold each pose they requested, but it gave him more time to think than he'd like. Veronica had been nothing but kind since he'd arrived, and excited even about the most mundane of tasks, like today for example. And what had he done? He couldn't say he'd visited her at her job. Hell, he'd hardly even asked about it. He didn't know her favorite color or what kind of music she liked, or...

Ugh, why was he so shitty at this?]

[She hasn't had anyone curl her hair since the costume party she had gone to long ago, but even then she's very distracted as she pays only half her attention to the motions, nodding when she's told that they'll help her brush her bangs back from her forehead, and pin some of her hair behind her head.

The rest of her attention is entirely on him, watching the expression on his face and trying to figure out how to make amends. Or if barring that, to figure out when she could ask him so they could try to work this out together. The nails do look wonderful on him though, glittering and bold in colour in contrast to the more natural colours they had used for his makeup. She absently realizes that Adel does much of the same thing back home when they chose her clothes, picking bright colours that would contrast with black and white.

Unfortunately, Veronica is no mind-reader, and she can only wonder what he's thinking with such an annoyed sort of expression.]

[It was a little while before the crew took a break to change up the set and swap out lenses, filters, lighting, and all the rest. Johnny took the opportunity to pull himself back up into his chair and out of the heat of the lights for a short time.

Though he'd mentally put himself through the wringer over the course of the shoot, re-living the conversation and all the dumb shit he'd said, his expression was fairly neutral when he wheeled over to Veronica to see that she was being taken care of.

As if she wasn't already a natural beauty, they'd curled her long hair into pretty tendrils and painted her nails in a similar style to his, in shades of blue.]

What do you think?

[Even the way the soft curls bounce back when she pulls her fingers through them with her newly painted nails is not distracting enough to break her from her thoughts, her expression calm and maybe even a little somber (which was as close to worried as she would let herself be for the moment) as he wheels himself over. And while there's nothing wrong with the shoot itself and she could still find the bustling change in the set-up absently fascinating, her attention is immediately on him as soon as he's in front of her once more.

The question itself is vague and she's aware that he could be referring to any number of things from his performance during the shoot, the shoot itself, the pictures she had been able to see in the laptop as the camera clicked and flashed all around him, her experience with the stylist...]

It looked amazing. [That, of course, is true.] I was never aware that was what a photo shoot was like and that models changed their poses so very often. [She had really only been paying very little attention to the stylist, which was something she would apologize for later.

And of course, she could have continued to ask him why that was, and whether or not he enjoyed the process, how it felt to be surrounded by lights and equipment, but she trails off, looking at him for a moment. She's never been someone who stays quiet and thinks, turning her thoughts over and over, making assumptions. There's been enough of that in her life and she knows that more often than not, assuming does no one any favours. If you don't know, you had to ask. If you were unsure, then you had to try.]

Johnny. May I ask you a question?

[It's a little odd to see Veronica looking so serious, and he knows he's at least partially to blame for the mood. Cheering people up is near the top of the list of things he's absolutely shitty at, but he knows he should try.

His question, intentionally open to interpretation, lets her lead the conversation, but she's quick to put the shoot aside in favor of her own agenda. He glances back at the crew, still diligently setting up, and tries to hold what can barely pass for a smile.]

Yeah, shoot.

[That smile only makes her even more determined, unable to just let their last conversation stand as it was.]

When I told you that you deserved happiness...it made you uncomfortable, did it not? May I ask why?

[He'd expected a lot of things, given what he'd said earlier, but her question still caught him off-guard. She never did pull her punches, did she?]

Uh.

[Eloquent, as always.

It was a loaded question, whether she realized it or not. He'd made a lot of stupid mistakes in his life. Some selfish and some painful, all of them earning him no less than he deserved. But not happiness. He wanted it, something inside him craved it, but...]

Ain't done anythin' to deserve it. That's all. I'm not... that good a person.

[She doesn't need eloquence from him, perfectly content to stare across at him from her seat, waiting patiently for him to answer. There was no doubt in her mind that he would answer. (And if he did not...she would simply ask again. She's determined, if nothing else.)]

I think...that you need not have done anything to deserve it.

[That he was alive....that was reason enough for her to defend his right to happiness.]

No matter what, I have always believed that we all do. You need not prove anything.

And may I ask what it is that you have done? [If he wanted to tell her, that is.]

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[Closed] Come on, Vogue...

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