Mentor syndrome (OPEN)

[Anonymous]

Liv wasn't sure what he liked best about being a Pilot.  Probably the sartorial freedom, or the larger room, which he could keep as catastrophic as he liked.  Possibly the work.  He found it reasonably amusing that the last code he'd spent a morning on hadn't even been a code.  Apparently the Dragons had their limits.  He shot off a quick email letting Rilke know he'd been duped, and settled in to wait for his next assignment, which was... "try again, Sulo."  Just because he didn't want to let Liv touch anything really important.

The CU18s, at least, had their own room and their own terminals, off the internal channels.  Liv liked the privacy of his work, though he did sometimes poke his head around the corner of his cubicle to see what Russ was up to.  Far too much, as a rule.  Liv shook his head and clicked out of transfer file Z193-2225.  Trash.  Until he got the go-ahead, though, he'd have to keep working on... the mush of patternless junk data command had plunked before him.

In fact he spent the last hour of deskwork with his feet up, drawing a meticulous picture, in binary notation, of what he imagined Fala might look like naked.  He had just finished the last line of pubic 1's and 0's when the day officially ended.  

Excellent.  Now, where was--

"Try not to do that again."

"I'll be so fucking good."  He cleared the electronic tablet with a quick button-press, fervently glad the thing didn't record spaces as data.  "Where's Gabe?"  

Nothing.

"Hey, I'm going anyway."  Liv swung his feet off his desk and, once his files had finished their ruminative upload, switched off his terminal.  Useless, Falstaff.  Gabe was at Alaric's, anyway.  He probably felt complacent.  He'd carefully tried to avoid letting Liv know the override password to his door lock--no doubt worried he'd find his furniture stuck to the ceiling again, but that had gotten old after the fourth time, no fun anymore.  Anyway, Liv had sussed out the password via combined over-the-shoulder-staring-while-hovering and bothering-Gabe-until-he-admitted-the-first-two-digits.  

No getting one over on Liv Sulo.  He strolled down the corridor, shaking out the kinks of the workday, hands in his pockets.  He thought about whistling innocently, but decided against it--tacky.  

At Gabe's, he knocked and waited for an answer.  Nothing.  Excellent.  Keying in the password, he cracked the door and squeezed his way in, then shut it very quickly behind him.  Stealth was key.  He bumped into the couch arm.  

Right.  Liv recovered, tiptoed past the couch, past the kitchen, and into the bathroom, where he took down the shampoo and slowly, cautiously unscrewed the top.  The color would prove the determining factor here.  Luckily, Gabby had accepted the bottle he'd recommended--after all, it made sense for Liv to recommend a shampoo, didn't it?--hm.  He could've added the dye straightaway and put the top on again, but... no, this way was better.  Liv took the thin vial of dye from one pocket and tipped it in, then refastened the lid and gave the shampoo bottle a good shaking before he replaced it on the shower rack.

Mission accomplished.  His fingertips had taken on a faintly purple discoloration where he'd held the little vial, and he frowned.  Oh, well.  

When he walked out of Gabe's room, left almost precisely as he had found it, he realized he was whistling.  Had Liv not been used to such things, he would've had a hard time holding back the braggery that threatened when he went down to dinner.  As it was, he went to bed rather more pleased than usual.  

"Ah, yes," said Falstaff, in that echoing way he had, once Liv had plumped his pillow and settled in.  Gods damn him.  He still couldn't tell when the Dragon meant things sideways or straight-on.  "Your motives are entirely playful."

"Maybe 80% playful, 20% you're-turning-into-your-ex-mentor."

Liv felt Falstaff's smile.  In person--or in Dragon--it looked almost goofy, wide and a little gap-toothed, if fearsome in scale alone.  In mind, he found the sensation of the Dragon's amusement a little frightening.  

"And 10% jealousy over his hair," Liv went on, screwing up his eyes and trying to hasten sleep.  Eventually he found it.

[center:2elzcclr]-------------------[/center:2elzcclr]

Upon waking, Liv had only one compulsion.  Well, okay, two.  But he could hold the... no, better not.  After he'd washed and dressed and so on and so forth, and brushed his hair, and, no, the cowlick was really bad today... oh, all right, he'd stand in front of the mirror for a little, until his face woke up and stopped trying to melt off his skull... first stop, Gabe's room.

"Gaaabby."  He pounded at the door.  He'd have showered by now.  Had to have.  "Gabbykins!"  Liv wished to be the first to see his reaction.  He tried to prepare the 'who, me' face, but found it totally unbelievable.  Oh well.  He did want credit for the master plan.

[Rhi-Rhi]

Black.

His hair was black.

Gabriel wiped the bathroom mirror with his black-splotched towel to clear away some of the fog, then stared some more, tilted his head this way and that, tugged at his matted bangs. Totally black. Some of the soap and dye rubbed off onto his fingers and dripped a trail down his neck, and Gabriel heaved a sigh. He hadn't rinsed it all out; he'd jumped straight out of the shower, which was still on, once the water ran inky--after he'd stood there for a while, watching it swirl down the drain in sleepy not-quite-registering-it shock.

Black.

He liked his blonde hair.

But more than just his hair would be stained if he kept gaping at his reflection like an idiot, like his back and hands and the floor where he'd dripped all over. Maybe it would rinse out. He tilted his head and looked at himself from an angle. Not that it looked bad or anything, it was him after all...

He just felt very goth all of a sudden. It made everything about him look darker and kind of evil.

Sexy evil. If he'd learned anything from TV, it was that evil was always hot and stylish.

A pounding at his door made him jump, a for a split second he panicked because he wasn't ready yet until he remembered that he had nothing scheduled for today. Then someone was calling his name--he could just make it out over the noise of the shower--and...

He knew that pitch and inflection. He'd know it even if he couldn't hear the words. What coincidental timing! How ironic that he'd recommended that certain shampoo just days before! What happenstance that he'd been pestering Gabriel about his password! How convenient that a certain someone always just happened to want to visit whenever his furniture ended up on the ceiling or his hair turned black!

Liv. Who, if Gabriel was any other Pilot, wouldn't be Living but would so be Dying, not dyeing, very soon.

He cracked open the bathroom door. "Be out in a sec, stay out there, I'm naked!" he shouted, then shut it and locked it for good measure before getting back in the shower and scrubbing vigorously at his hair. He rinsed it until the water ran clear, washed his body a second time in case there was any dye still clinging to him, then shut off the faucets and got out. The stained towel was demoted to 'rag' status, and he threw that down on the floor to mop up the mess and fetched a clean one to dry off with. It was taking more than 'a sec', but Liv would survive. Har har.

As an afterthought, Gabriel grabbed the shampoo bottle and worked a dollop of it into his eyebrows, then rinsed. Heck, why not? His hair wasn't getting any blonder, so might as well make it look natural! Not like Vaughan with his black eyebrows.

When he was all dry and satisfied, he went into his bedroom (after checking that Liv wasn't there, he was allowed some paranoia), dressed, and went to answer the front door.

"Sooo," he said, swinging the door open and leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his chest in an unintentional Roman imitation as he stared Liv down. His hair was still wet and dripping onto his shoulders, and he gave his head a shake to flick some water at the other Pilot. "How permanent is it, eh? And why black, anyway? I expected pink or purple from you. Black is so normal!"

[Anonymous]

Naked: that meant he'd already showered.  Success.  Liv lingered outside the door, grinning, and decided not to let himself in again.  Boundaries.  And he had to maintain some sort of plausible deniability.  That was key, he found, to good people.  You could take just about anything right to the wall, and they wouldn't quite believe it unless you let on.

Of course, Gabe was probably pretty sure.  But okay.  

Liv leaned against the far wall, practicing nonchalance, then kicked off with one foot and tripped across the hall in loose, lazy steps.  Maybe Gabe had figured it out in time and thwarted the black onslaught.  Or maybe he'd emerge half-dyed.  Liv had chosen the sort that would come out after a few rinses: he wasn't evil.  Maybe he'd managed to find a solvent, though Liv winced a the thought--it would destroy cuticle strength.  Gods, what would Gabe look like with black hair?  He found he couldn't quite imagine it.  The gold and good cheer were so very Gabe.  Well... good cheer.  Lately he must have been stressed, after what had happened with Alaina, not to mention the orange-haired one's travails.  Clearly, distraction was the answer.  

Besides, now he'd have the chance to gather empirical proof of the blonds-are-hotter hypothesis.  Later he could take a poll.

"Gabbeeeee."  What was taking so long?  It had definitely worked, then.  Had it not he'd have been out to mock Liv's failure by now.  Liv leaned forward, palms and chest flat to the door, and listened for movement inside.  He drew back when he heard the soft sound of approaching footsteps, but kept up the whinging.  "Gaaaybreeee-ellllll--"  

The door opened, and Liv relaxed, thumbs hooked through his belt loops, standing crookedly, one shoulder higher than the other.  His body language, or so he hoped, spoke of mischievous innocence or innocent mischief.  Either way.  And then he stared.

Black-haired Gabe!  Shit.  With his mouth curled a little sardonically, leaning against the door in a loose, louche bodily s-for-skepticism, he really did look like... wow.  Liv blinked, then took out his camera.  Gabe's hair-shake spattered the lens with water, but Liv clicked off a few quick shots anyway.  For posterity.  

"Gabe!"  He leaned back, peeking out from behind the camera with some (mostly faked) trepidation.  He ignored the implicit accusation.  "I see you've taken the final step in your mentormorphosis.  Pink might've been better."  He lowered the camera cautiously and peered at his newly unblonded friend, pondering it.  "Actually, you look pretty good..."  He declined to tell him how long the stuff would last, but kept backing up, framing Gabe between upraised hands, one still holding the camera.

"... oh, you think I did it?"

[Rhi-Rhi]

The look on Liv's face was priceless--and for a second it had him doubting his guilt. He looked genuinely shocked. Maybe it wasn't him. Maybe someone else did it, but who? Alaric? He knew his password, but why would he dye his hair? He wouldn't do something like that. Roman? No way, pranks were so immature (says the one who flipped over a spoon) and besides, that would be enabling him.

Then Liv whipped out a camera and started snapping pictures, totally shameless.

...Innocent his foot. Guy came prepared.

Gabriel posed a little, fashion model style, after he was sure Liv had gotten at least one shot of him looking all serious business. He ran a hand through his hair, leaned dramatically back against the door frame, and went for a pouty, heavy-lidded 'you know you want me' face like they did in the magazines, certain it would come out ridiculous. When Liv was done, he crossed his arms again and fell right back into looking all disapproving and rawr. Mentormorphosis? Weeeell, now that he mentioned it...

He broke character for a moment and flashed Liv a wide grin. "Naaaw, I know it couldn't possibly be you. No way it could be the guy that stuck my furniture to the ceiling multiple times and somehow managed to catch me riiiight as I was coming out of the shower after an unfortunate mishap with the shampoo he recommended--who just-so-happened to bring his camera along, too. And had it ready to whip out as soon as I opened my door. Nah." He ruffled his hair, going for sexily mussed; he didn't know what else to call Roman's style--well, he'd call it 'messy' out loud.

"It was probably Sei. She does that all the time. Hey, got any white shirts? I have no white shirts, and if I'm gonna be Roman I need a white shirt. That's the final step of my mentormorphowhatcha macallit. But judging by your reaction, maybe I can make green work...whatcha think?" Mentormorphosis. Seriously? Was that what this was about? And what was with how he was acting? Was he wowed by his looks or disturbed by the resemblance--not that there was much of one apart from black hair. Gabriel knew Liv didn't like Roman, but...

Too bad. He dyed his hair black, so now he got to deal with the consequences because this was too good a chance to pass up and he might as well roll with it! And bug Liv.

He'd worry about permanence later, and try not to think what Liv not answering meant.

Because blonde jokes aside, he loved being blonde! Agh.

[Anonymous]

Black-haired Gabe really took some getting used to.  Liv kept staring, trying to fit the new hair to the face and body.  He was getting some sort of cognitive dissonance as his brain tried to piece the sight together.  He liked to do the same when he dyed his own hair, and could easily waste an hour at the mirror fitting brown-haired Liv to red-haired Liv, and red-haired Liv to blue-haired Liv.  Identity was pretty that way.  But black hair plus Gabriel Tierney... does not compute.  He'd done his eyebrows, too.  

Of course he'd done his eyebrows.  Liv wouldn't have liked him half so much if he hadn't been at least a little vain.  

Downright weird, though, how it looked so wrong when you caught it straight on, but sideways... he tilted his head and squinted.  Yeah, sideways it all came together, and it came together all Rosales-like.  Perhaps that would teach Gabe a valuable Object Lesson.  Riiight.  Yeah, Liv was a devious dastard and a subtle bastard, for sure.  Clucking his tongue at himself, he stuck his camera in his pocket.

"Controlled chaos, first of all, when you're going for the tousled look," he said, stepping forward to pat a stray strand of Gabe's hair into place.  Grabbing him by the hand, he started down the hall.  "Come on, I've got a white shirt.  We'll Roman you to the max, and I have coffee and breakfast, too."  Not that I planned any of this, obviously.  Hehe.  Issues with Rosales aside, Liv really would enjoy playing dressup, not to mention seeing what everyone else thought.  

He'd bought a lot of bagels.  What a coincidence!

He tugged at Gabe until they'd both started down the hall, then let go and kept a half-step ahead, turning periodically askew to examine the brunet effect.  If he opened and shut one eye, stretching his vision to a blur, he could see Gabe come in and out of focus and Other Gabe appear in little flashes.

"You know how weird you look?"  Liv pressed the button for the elevator, which arrived posthaste.  They stepped inside.  "Like your own evil twin... someone's evil twin, anyway..."  One side of his mouth slid into a smile; it wasn't meant meanly.  It was just One of Those Things, one of those things best addressed sideways.

[Rhi-Rhi]

Coffee and breakfast?

Gabriel's eyebrows rose and he followed after Liv, realizing more and more just how orchestrated this was. Man. If there was one thing that could be said about Liv and his pranks, it was that he left no base uncovered. Then again, this was the guy that stuck furniture to ceilings. That was real dedication right there.

He reached up to fiddle with his still-damp hair and the strand that Liv had just fixed fell back into his eyes; he went a little cross-eyed staring up at it. Still black. Trippy. Unlike Liv, Gabriel had never dyed his hair in his life, unless spending way too much time in the pool and winding up with chlorine-green hair counted. He looked back at Liv, who kept looking at him oddly, and gave a wry grin. Was he regretting his prank yet? Didn't seem like he'd thought it out fully, since he was acting just as surprised by his own joke as Gabriel felt. "Camera, breakfast, and an outfit, eh? Huh...yeeep, all clues pointing to Sei, alright."

They neared the elevator and Gabriel had a moment's pause before he stepped inside after Liv, punched the button for Cardinal level, and leaned back against the far wall. The doors slid shut and the elevator lurched downward and his stomach with it. Nrgh. Wasn't so much the sensation as it was the combination of that plus the small, closed in, windowless space; he took the stairs whenever he could if it was just a flight or two, but refused to admit his hatred of elevators out loud.

Anyway, Liv was still giving him that look, like he'd spouted a third eye and gone alien on him, and Gabriel looked right back at him with his best imitation of a smug, superior, Romany expression: arms crossed over his chest, eyes slightly narrowed, lips curved. Mentormorphosis. Pah. He'd give him mentormorphosis. Liv was as good as asking for it; he'd brought this on himself.

"That's no way to speak to a superior officer, Pilot Sulo," he said, deadpan, and cringed a little on the inside. It was just acting, but gah. The cold rank pulling. He hated it, even coming out of his own mouth. Maybe that was going a little too far. "Anyway, you said I looked good, you liar! And I do, I saw myself. Maybe I'll keep it. Cross over to the dark side, embrace my inner...something. I need caffeine. So..."

The elevator ground to a stop and Gabriel was out before the doors were even done opening, turning around to walk backwards so he could watch Liv. He still felt like he was going down. "I don't think I caught it the first time so, uh, how long's the dye job last again?"

[Anonymous]

"Fine, fine," Liv groused, pretending to be annoyed.   Really, Gabe's failure at authoritarian gravitas kind of reassured him.  He cocked his head and pretended to consider Gabe's hair, advancing after him down the corridor.  

"I dee-duce" he paused "from the slight translucence of the wash that it's a twenty-rinse dye.  A little extra time in the shower and you will be ay-okay."

The sight of Liv's orderly room was probably enough to prove his guilt in the prank.  No discarded vests or crumpled jeans on the floor?  How very... not Liv.  How very obviously prepared for some gathering.  He had even sprayed with something sort of floral, so the room didn't smell like burnt fabric.  It did smell a little like burnt bagel, because he'd tried setting the automatic toaster, and that thing hated him.

Liv left Gabe to rifle through his closet in search of an appropriate shirt, while Liv signed onto the VCN and typed a quick invitation out over the Pilot blog.  They got into some wrangling over whether or not Sabela ought to be on the guest list.  Blinky text made an appearance.  Sabela didn't want to come anyway.  He posted Gabe's black-haired growly picture.  At length Liv sent out one final mass e-mail, probably the last the filters would permit for a week, and fled to the kitchen to retrieve bagels and coffee.  

He came out with his hands full, then set the trays down on the side table and dusted himself off carefully, straightening his lapels, frowning down at his collar to make sure it lay flat.  Uh-huh, uh-huh... check, appearance in order.  Gabe looked good, too, if... disconcerting.  But that was how Liv showed he cared.  

He would be a little embarrassed if no one came.  Ah well, it wasn't like he was going to wait for company or anything, not when he still hadn't had his morning coffee.  Still watching Gabe with interest, wrinkling his nose in a little silent mockery, he poured his friend and then himself a cup of coffee.  He handed Gabe's over, then kicked back against one corner of the table, letting mug's warmth seep through his fingers.  

"Oh, Gabby.  See, I can serve food rightside up, have something, it's only a little b--"  

Someone knocked.  "--It's open!"

[Anonymous]

Loki had the morning off- his shift was due to begin in the afternoon. He sat in front of his computer, lounging in his pyjama bottoms and a fresh cup of tea. He browsed through his emails. His mother was having a cocktail party and wanted him to find the time to come. No doubt wanted to show him off- clever little boy for making Pilot and all. He didn’t fancy it much. He did enjoy the attention immensely, but the people she invited were inconsequential. He’d much prefer the attention of more prominent persons. Senior Pilots … especially those in charge of promotions for example. He wasn’t going to miss a shift of work if it meant making an impression. He kindly declined.

A message popped up from Liv. He thought it was just another round of sniping comments, but no. Mass email. Curious, he clicked on it. An invitation? Heh, might as well. He had nothing better to do. And he’d prefer to be out before his mother started ringing him incessantly, demanding his attendance. He finished off his first cup of coffee in a searing gulp and headed for the shower. The phone started ringing in the background, muffled through the bathroom door. He paused to hear the message.

“Oh darling, can’t you take the day off  for once? Your grandmother will be there- she still seems to think I haven’t mothered you properly and you’re father’s too soft to reprimand her.  Oh do come so I can prove her wrong. We miss you. Call back love.”

He then went back to shampooing his hair, ignoring the next few times the phone started ringing. Stepping out, he towel dried his hair into its usual appearance of controlled messiness, teasing it into shape with some wax. He then spent about ten minutes agonising on what to wear before settling. Green t-shirt, black blazer, smart jeans. Then another few moments appraising his reflection.

He eventually found his way to Liv’s room. He knocked on the door only to be told to come in. Weird being told to come into Liv’s room for once before, it was usually ‘fuck off!’ Strange day. He pressed down on the handle and let himself in. He had to admit that he was curious as to what Liv had used as an excuse for this gathering of Pilots. “Morning Sulo,” he said. He thought he’d start out soft. He’d only just entered the room- too early for provocation even by their standards. “And …”

Gabriel?

“Oh. Dear. That’s not permanent, is it? What possessed you to-” He liked blonde Gabe. He liked blondes, period. He was sure Gabe liked blond Gabe too.

"... It was this tosser, wasn't it?" he said, waving a thumb over his shoulder to where the thought Liv was still standing.

[Rhi-Rhi]

Gabriel came out of Liv's room shortly after Liv came out of the kitchen, dressed in a plain white t-shirt--one of the few times he would ever be caught alive wearing something so boring as white. Still, he figured he looked pretty damned good and he'd spent some extra time in Liv's room checking himself out in the mirror and messing his hair up more. Weird...he did look kind of evil like this.

Twenty rinses. Thank gods it wasn't permanent or, fun as this was, he'd be dyeing it back quick.

He accepted the mug of coffee gratefully, though after that awakening he was as awake as he ever was, but a little extra caffeine to fuel his addiction never hurt and it never quite felt like morning without it. The bagels, on the other hands...Gabriel eyed those warily. They looked pretty crispy. A little overdone. Some of those could probably double as art supplies. "I dunno if I'd call this food," he said and took a careful sip--and choked because it was black and he hadn't thought to look first.

Someone knocked and in came Loki and Gabriel, still in the middle of swallowing his coffee down and not sputtering too much, gave a little wave. Didn't look like it had registered just yet. Wait for it, wait for it...

"Oh. Dear."

There it was.

He wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand and grinned. "What? No way, the dragons did it. Snuck into my bathroom and laced the shampoo with dye, right in time because Liv was already throwing a party over it! Precognition he didn't know he had." He nodded and swirled his coffee in his cup, shifting it over from one hand to the other when it got too hot. "It definitely wasn't Liv trying to teach me a lesson and pull some sorta social experiment. Nope! Nothing about mentors and stuff. Have a bagel, this was totally spontaneous. Hey Liv, got any creamer or sugar or something?"