Crimson Carmine.
A confounding name for the small tube of lipstick that Owen thumbed between her fingers. It was antithetical at its very core. Crimson Carmine, two different shades of red plastered onto the same cartridge of makeup. Was it a combination of the two colors? Not really, no. Its dark shade matched the latter half of the name far more than it matched the former. Owen felt that it was far more likely named Crimson Carmine due to its recognizable combination of two different shades that customers would associate with red lipstick. It was a soulless name, chosen for a company to maximize the profit they made, rather than accurately describe the product they sold. But it didn’t make the deep red lipstick any less appealing to Owen.
“So…?”
Aoife’s words drifted through the air to cling onto Owen’s ears like a heavy weight. She had been fidgeting with the tube of lipstick for a few minutes now, in a long and stilted silence. Castle and Aoife had remained quiet while waiting until this very moment when Aoife decided to give things a verbal push. It was probably a good idea to do so, since Owen showed no signs of breaking the silence herself.
“I don’t know…”
Owen’s words splattered onto the ground before her, causing Aoife and Castle to both scrunch up their faces in response, as if Owen’s words had splashed across their faces.
“You don’t know, mate? You’re the one that stopped us from queuing up for another match of UMDK. Surely you did that for a reason.”
“I mean, I did. But now that I’ve taken a couple steps towards it, I’m substantially less certain.” Owen replied.
“You didn’t take a couple of steps though. You rolled your chair over to me and asked to see the lipstick in my bag.” Castle deadpanned. Though they tried, they were unable to stop the blossoming smirk in the left corner of their mouth.
“Ugh, you know what I mean.” Owen whined as she finally broke away from the hunched over position on her chair. “It’s like I was saying earlier, I’m worried about opening a can of worms that I can’t unopen.”
“Close?” Aoife offered with a soft smile.
“Yeah. A can of worms that I can’t close. But even though I’m afraid of doing that, I can’t stop thinking about the offer on the table earlier.” Owen appreciated the offer that Aoife had set up for her, but it didn’t make it any less frightening, especially due to Owen’s stream of paranoias surrounding the topic.
“Of course. I mean… I offered it because I wanted to help, Witch. Castle and I both made it clear that if you don’t want to do it now it’s completely fine. We’ll just do it some other time and you can-”
“But I want to! That’s what I’m stuck on! It’s like the needle of my mind can’t stop catching on that part of the record. The idea that I might be able to look a different way. That maybe I could see something in the mirror that doesn’t immediately make me want to look away. Is that so much to ask?” Owen’s volume slowly escalated through her speech until she finished talking and fell back into her chair. The reclining desk chair lurched back to support her weight as she flicked her eyes up towards the ceiling in thought.
“You want to?” Aoife asked. Though she hesitated to let it show in her reaction, she was excited to hear that Owen was willing to dip her toe into the waters, even for a moment.
“Yes? No? Honestly, I’m too conflicted right now to reach any sort of quorum within my thoughts, so I think I just need to take Castle’s advice.”
“Which is?” Aoife turned her head towards Castle in the expectation that they could elucidate Owen’s vague words.
“Fuck if I know, I say so much good advice it could be any number of thing…” Castle shrugged.
“I think I just need to go nuts. I’m making the executive decision right now that for the rest of today, until the clock strikes midnight, I’m going to live by that code. The overthinking, the doubts, all that dumb shit can be a problem for the Witch of tomorrow.” Owen firmly grasped the container of lipstick in her hands, with every intention of opening it shortly.
“Ooo, Witch of tomorrow. That could make for a good backup account if you lose Witchofthewest.” Castle suggested.
“Does this mean the makeover is back on the table?!” Aoife’s hands latched themselves to the armrests of her chair. She looked poised with so much excitement that she might leap out of her chair at any moment. When Owen asked everyone to take a break from queuing up earlier, Aoife had pushed her chair across the room towards Owen and Castle in order to see what was going on with her roommate.
“Uh… yeah. I think it is back on the table. If Castle wants to get out their bag of makeup and say our collective catchphrase, I think we’re good to start.” Owen smiled, doing her best to stay true to her own decision to rid herself of doubts for the evening. It wasn’t a problem for the Owen of tonight, it was an issue for the Witch of tomorrow to resolve.
“Hah… funny.” Castle rolled their eyes as they set their laptop onto Owen’s bed. After they set aside their gaming gear, they started to spill out the contents of the makeup bag across the sheets of the bed. Once the bag was empty, they tossed it aside and looked back to the two roommates that sat in chairs next to one another with expected expressions on their faces. “Oh fuck off, I said that I’d only say it once, and I did. You’re not prying anymore out of me unless you put some more respect on Fred’s name. The mystery gang would have been completely lost with Fred’s sexy ass-”
“Sexy ass?!” Owen exclaimed with wide eyes as she leaned forward in her chair. “It wasn’t about his catchphrase as all! You’re just a Fred stan that was upset we didn’t remember his shit catchphrase!”
“Cot! Ascot! I was going to say cot, mate!” Castle did their best to defend themselves from the accusations.
“Really? Because it sure sounded like you were done with your sentence there, Castle.” Aoife verbally prodded at her friend with a wide smile. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
“Look, m’not saying the catchphrase! So you’re just gonna have to be happy with being wrong. Also Fred’s ass is sexy and I won’t be shamed for it.” Castle rushed through the final words under their breath. Before either of the roommates could make another retort, they reached out and pulled Owen towards the bed. “You sit here and close your eyes, we’ll handle the rest.”
“Do I have to clo-WOAH!” Owen’s wrist was firmly grasped and used as leverage to pull her onto the bed as Castle swapped positions with her.
“You don’t have to close them, but you’d better not find any reflections to peer into or I’ll be pissed. You don’t want to know what the Everett dorm killer will do when she's pissed.”
“Everett dorm killer? What sort of roleplay have you two been up to…?” Castle asked incredulously as they thumbed through a few different shades of foundation, all of which were extra from friends that no longer wore makeup or accidentally bought shades that didn’t match their skin. They were so engrossed in looking for the correct shade that they didn’t notice the bright blushes and flustered reactions of the two roommates.
* * * * *
A light pressure traversed the soft ridges of Owen’s lips from left to right. The lipstick sent scintillating sparks of excitement through Owen. It was, after all, the culmination of the last thirty minutes of having her eyes closed while Castle and Aoife drew, pat, and traced makeup onto her face. Owen had asked at one point if Aoife had truly spent thirty minutes each day doing makeup, to which Castle and Aoife clarified they were doing a little bit more than the “average” for a face of makeup. Aoife had repeated time and time again that this needed to be “special”. With the Crimson Carmine lipstick fully applied, it marked the end of the makeover.
“Done.” Aoife whispered as she lifted the lipstick away from Owen’s lips. Owen’s eyes flitted open, revealing that she was still face to face with Aoife. She had yet to pull away from Owen, still examining the outline of her lips to make sure she hadn’t accidentally smeared past the liner that she had already applied. The two of them locked eyes for only a few seconds. But the few seconds they spent gazing into the marbled details of each other's eyes could have been hours, and neither of them would particularly notice or care. It was the realization that the two of them were not alone, that finally pushed them back into the steady stream that is time.
With a short breath, and an even shorter chuckle, Aoife pulled away from Owen and sat back down in her own desk chair that had been brought right up to the edge of Owen’s bed where they were performing the makeover.
“You ready to see the Witch of the West?” Aoife gestured to the standing mirror that Owen had set up at the end of her bed with a wide smile. For a moment, Owen wondered if Aoife was more excited to see Owen’s reaction than she was to see herself in the reflection of her mirror.
“Seems pretty rhetorical, Aoife. Do you expect me to say no and take off all the makeup before I see it?” Owen smirked at Castle and Aoife, knowing full well that if she did such a thing the two of them would have a series of words for her longer than the New Testament.
“Oh shut up and take a gander already, mate.” Castle pointed towards the mirror, looking like they were seconds away from picking Owen up and walking to the mirror with Owen in tow.
“Yeah yea, I’m just working up the nerve to get my giddy gooey groove on.” Owen said, grinning wryly at Castle. “Eh? See how catchy it is?” Castle stared blankly at Owen. After enough prodding Owen rolled her eyes and stood up from her bed. “We’ll get there one day, Aoife. Castle will say that damn catchphrase one of these days.”
“Seeds are sewn…” Aoife waved her hands around Castle as she spoke in a stereotypical “ghost” voice.
Without any other jokes to delay the inevitable, Owen moved over to the mirror and settled her nerves. She had a vision of what she’d see. Two, in fact. One of which was far more optimistic than the other. She could only hope that the reflection in the mirror fell more in line with the optimistic one. Owen took in a steady breath and stepped to the side.
“Whaddya think?” Aoife asked, only moments after Owen stepped in front of the mirror. It wasn’t nearly enough time to form an opinion, something that would grow increasingly more obvious as Owen stared silently at her reflection.
She was enraptured. Encased in a solitary moment of realization, the kind so pure and unfettered that you could make an exhibition of it within a museum. A glass cage, with a subject at its center. A college student, a roommate, a woman. Owen. An exhibition constructed to immortalize the beautiful moment that many would be lucky to experience once in their life, only for it to flash into and out of existence in mere moments. The beautiful moment of someone experiencing a glimpse at themselves in past and future, simultaneously.
Owen could see features within herself that were as old as her very existence, contrasted against features that she had never once gleamed within her face. There were remnants of tired eyes within the reflection, but they had been embellished and accentuated with eyeliner and mascara, enhancing what Owen had been accustomed to reveal something hidden within her eyes this whole time. A glimmer of hope. A flicker of something greater, that had been dormant in her heart, and weighed down by a body that she had never chosen.
There was Owen within the reflection, certainly. A sharpness to her jaw that reminded her that she was still within the body she had always known. But in every part of her face that didn’t scream Owen, there was something else. There was a Witch staring back at her. Someone unfamiliar to Owen, like a person wearing her face in the reflection that was a familiar stranger. An unknown presence that felt like home.
Ultimately, there was an easier way for Owen to digest the reflection before her. Beyond the introspection, a verifiable truth smiled back at her, shaped by the Crimson Carmine lipstick that lingered in her mind.
Owen was happy. The smile that beamed back at her through the mirror was beautiful. The feminine features that glowed across her visage were beautiful. Owen was beautiful. To herself, and an impatient onlooker that decided to recite her previous question under the assumption that she hadn’t heard it the first time.
“Does this mean you like it?” Aoife asked, on the edge of her seat. Metaphorically, of course. She had left the seat a while ago to stand just behind Owen.
“So much that it hurts. I gotta find a way to stop smiling or my jaw is gonna hurt for the rest of the day.” Owen quipped as she turned away from the mirror to look at her two friends that had given her the makeover of a lifetime. The glistening gloss of her eyes plainly revealed that she was mere moments away from letting joyous tears flow freely.
“I’m so glad!!!” Aoife squealed as she lunged forward, firmly snapping her arms around Owen to squeeze her tightly. Owen returned the hug, wrapping her arms around Aoife with a buzz of warmth filling up her face just under her cheekbones. Owen looked over to Castle, who was still leaning back casually in Owen’s desk chair. They made no vocal celebration of Owen’s reaction, but Owen could clearly see a smile forming across their mouth. A casual, calm smile from Castle meant just as much as the hug from Aoife. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
“It’s definitely strange to not fully see myself in the mirror. But I’m kind of happy that I don’t see myself. It gives me a bit more hope that I could actually change things. If I wanted to, of course…” Owen added the last bit, as if it could dampen the flow of the floodgates that had just opened upon seeing herself.
“Sometimes it’s not as hard as it looks, Witch. Sometimes it is, but that’s where special agent Aoife and gender Yoda Castle come in. We’re here to help.” Aoife spoke her words whilst firmly wrapped around Owen’s midsection.
“Right… from dorm killer to special agent? Hard to believe any agency that would hire you let that pass their background checks.” Owen prodded simultaneously with her words, and also her hand, jabbing a finger gently into Aoife’s side.
Aoife pulled back from Owen in order to form an indignant gasp. “I take my position very seriously, Witch. The agency decided that even given my history as the Everett dorm killer, I was simply too stellar to pass up.”
“Oh yeah? Who exactly made that call?” Owen asked as she crossed her arms in front of her.
With a devilish smirk, Aoife pushed her right hand into her pocket, before pulling it out to reveal that she had clasped her fingers together in a familiar position. She was pulling out her hand-judge, and when the hand-judge came out, Aoife meant business. “This highly graduated official made the call. Isn’t that right?”
“aOiFe Is sO cOol AnD AwEsomE, tHe AgEncY NeEeeeEdeD heR!” Prattled the hand-judge, in the same fluctuating cartoonish voice as last time.
“SON OF A BITCH! How much jurisdiction does that hand-judge even have?” Owen threw up her hands in exasperation.
“You don’t wanna know. This girl has her hands dipped in so many pies she’s making all new flavors.”
“Hands? She… is a hand. How does that work?”
“...are you disrespecting a public official? Owen, I don’t want to have to pull out the prosecutor as well. Do you know the charges for disrespecting a public official?”
“No! Because that doesn’t exist! That isn’t even a crime! What kind of quack operation are you running, Aoife hand-judge?”
“yOu DoN’t WaNnA kNoW buCkO.” The hand-judge flapped its fingered gape back at Owen. It was the last thing Aoife managed to do before she collapsed into a fit of laughter, quickly joined by Owen.
When the uproarious laughter of the roommates began to die down, Castle finally slipped into the conversation to offer a piece of their mind. “You two are so incredibly weird, it’s a miracle you share the same vein of insanity.”
The two roommates shared a handful of seconds of locked eyes where they laughed over Castle’s comments. But within the brief connection, unspoken words hovered in the air between them. Words that would have to be spoken at a later time.
“Not to fuck with everything that’s going on right now, but I feel like I should remind everyone that practice starts in about thirty.”
“THIRTY MINUTES?!” Aoife and Owen’s bodies shot up into well-postured military like stances as they looked to the old analog clock that hung just above their dorm room door. The kind of old clock that you’d instinctually expect to be running late constantly, but was somehow always on time.
“Okay, okay. Makeup needs to come off, I need to get into better clothes, and then we need to start walking.” Owen rambled as she moved towards her drawers to toss a hoodie and jeans onto her bed to change into shortly. It was far too cold to wear anything less on the way to practice.
“It feels like a crime to take it off already!” Aoife whined to Castle and Owen, as if her complaints would change any of the reality that practice was beginning shortly, and they were all expected to be there on time for the first practice as a team.
“I don’t make the rules, and if I did, I’d keep them the same just to spite you, Aoife.” Castle smirked.
“Just… let me have another minute with my reflection before it comes off?” Owen asked, coyly.
“Ah! Better idea!” Aoife shouted before running over to her own side of her room to frantically pull open drawers and shove around the objects inside. After a somewhat concerning amount of crashing and bashing, Aoife ran back to Owen’s side of the room with a wide smile and raised up the object she cuffed firmly in her hands.
“SMILE!”
SNAP