estoria | [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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[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.]

[Closed] Come on, Vogue...

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