36th of Glade
He had been working hard on practicing Malformity. The new form he had created through Chimerism was a fascinating animal, and Vivian wanted to study it more thoroughly. It helped him get command over their biologies as individuals; one had to know their pieces better to practice the whole. He was a little worried as to the instincts of the worm; it was always hungry, and seemed to have little scruples over what it ate and when. Vivian had gotten lucky the last time; the victim had been an abusive drunk. If he wanted to get control over his magic, he needed to be master and commander of this form in particular.
He could see it’s uses. The toxin was numbing and could paralyze something as large as a human, but Vivian wasn’t so sure it was deadly yet. Maybe he could increase the concentration…or maybe he could get samples of the form he had it in now. Arkash studied this sort of thing; Vivian was sure he would be tickled pink by a vial.
Vivian folded his hands against his lips, his elbows on his table. Malformity was becoming something…fascinating to him. It was the one thing that set him apart from a common street whore. Degare made him want to be better at it, to rise above his circumstances and station. He wanted to be like the Entente-well, not as savage. If Vivian was going to be a nobleman he was going to help the poor in the slums. His sisters of the night didn’t deserve to be needlessly murdered on the road. People didn’t deserve to freeze to death in the spring or die of heatstroke in the summer while the Entente sniped at each other at garden parties.
If Vivian wanted to get closer to this world he wasn’t going to lose himself. He should do something he enjoyed today.
He glanced at his desk. Well…his trademark eye makeup was running out. He didn’t have any more lip stain. Maybe he should make some. He’d been making his own for a bit, but his living situation meant he could upgrade to something a little more…elegant. He had money in his pocket. Perhaps he could go purchase an actual set up, like a real cosmetologist?
The thought pleased him. He grabbed his coat. Nothing like a little retail therapy to make a girl feel good!
He made sure to go to an actual chemist’s shop. A perfumier would have the actual equipment he needed, but a chemist would have the plants. He smiled as he walked in, looking around. For once he wasn’t desperately looking to suck cock to get Bara some medicine, or helping one of his sisters with an unfortunate bastard problem. He was here for scents. Scents and things to enhance his complexion.
“May I help you?” The chemist’s apprentice asked at the front, his nose wrinkling. He clearly didn’t think much of the prostitute even if Vivian didn’t smell nearly as bad as he normally did. He was clean, combed, and his clothes may have been ratty but they were clean. He smiled winningly at the young man.
“I need three bases. Mica powder, arrowroot powder, and jojoba oil. Eight ounces of each. And two ounces apiece of something safe for the skin but will color up well.” Vivian smiled. “I’m still learning the chemistry.”
The man cocked an eyebrow at him. “Iron oxide clays will give you a good red. Oxide clays do yellow and blue, but if you want shades like green and purple you’ll need a mortar and pestle to grind them; it’s not as simple as mixing them up. You need air to get to them and mix.” The assistant said, pulling down the glass bottles. “…are you making paint?”
“Makeup.” Vivian smirked. “A girl gets a little sick of cheap color.”
“I…see.” The man said slowly. “I suppose you’ll want beeswax and cacao fat then.”
“Please. Have them sent to Veir Socorro, and postmark them for Vivian Kreine.” He instructed, and watched the assistant almost drop the bottle of jojoba oil at the name. Their eyes met and the assistant paled.
“Veir Degare Socorro..?”
“The very same. I think he likes it when I look pretty.” Vivian smiled. He’d never gotten this reaction before. The assistant looked about ready to throw up or faint, Vivian wasn’t sure which, but he was certainly regretting his earlier attitude. Vivian counted out the coins. “So that’s half a pound of cacao fat and beeswax, eight ounces of jojoba, mica and arrowroot powder, you’ve got three two ounce jars of pigment. Sixty sound fair?”
The assistant nodded, and Vivian slapped the coins down. “Pleasure doing business with you. When can I have those delivered?”
“For the Veir Socorro? This afternoon.” The assistant bobbed his head.
Vivian winked and strolled out of the shop. Gods, did he feel like a rich courtesan! He had food in his belly, clean hair, and his skin had improved with regular bathing. Oh, Degare was going to get a hell of a blowjob out of this. He’d suck the man’s brains out. He walked to the perfumier without a care in the world, picking up a mortar and pestle, condenser coil, boiling chamber, and a separator for another two hundred. It was more money than he’d ever spent in his life, and it felt so expensive to watch the perfumier roll the delicate glassware in wool batting to be delivered that afternoon. Hm. He could also use that wool batting…he made a note to save the packaging. He added two bottles of sandalwood and jasmine at fifteen apiece; he wanted to smell good too. A few tins at one or two apiece and he had his kit ready.
By the time he got back to his room in Veir Socorro’s home he was walking on air. He did a brief look around for the Veir, intending to drop to his knees and give the man pleasure of the sort that would throw him off balance entirely. Today wasn’t about magic. Today was about being beautiful. Unfortunately the Veir wasn’t around, and Vivian didn’t dare intrude on his half of the house, so he made a note to make their next coupling worthwhile.
He had eyeshadow to make.
First was using the mortar to mix arrowroot and mica. Those were the bases of all good eye colorings. He separated the mixture out into four tins. He wanted to make red, blue, green and purple. Once he had his powder measured, he added a paste of the red clay and jojoba oil to one, mixing it well and tapping it to ensure the eyeshadow would set evenly. He did something similar with flour, charcoal, and tallow fat on the streets to make eyeliner. Come to think of it…he added jojoba oil, a tiny touch of jasmine, arrowroot, and the last of his charcoal to a smaller tin for eyeliner. The tallow made his eyes itch anyway and the flour clumped like a bastard.
Vivian mixed the purple next, adding a tiny tap of blue to the vestiges of red in the mortar. As instructed by the chemist, he ground the powders together. Huh. Well, they weren’t the brightest purples he’d seen but this soft, purplish wine color would do well with his bright blue eyes. The green was trickier; he had to wash out the mortar and pestle carefully and pat it dry lest the powders mix.
When that was done, he looked at the tins. Four perfect little shades…well, perfect for now. The red wasn’t as rich as he wanted, the green was slightly too dark and the blue too light, but they were his. His colors. He’d made them. He snapped their lids closed, and looked at the eyeliner. A perfect paste. He normally applied it with a pinky finger, ever so carefully swept across the edge of his upper lid, waterline and corners of his eye. Hm. It felt so much better, even when not fully set, and he closed it so it could set up. It would be easier as a firmer paste. Gods, he needed brushes.
Vivian smiled at his little set up. The glassware was his. Not stolen…bought. Sure it wasn’t the greatest quality. He’d seen others with tiny gold lettering, patterns and finely tuned volumes stamped into the glass at the shop. But it was a start. It was a beginning. He patted the brass casing on the condenser coil. Somehow this thing would turn normal flower petals, tree leaves, bark or roots into oils that were used to scent cosmetics. He supposed he’d have to figure out how to use her.
Surely, Socorro had a book on the subject somewhere. Vivian neatly arranged the bottles on his desk, feeling like an amateur chemist as he put the large hurricane jars holding beeswax chunks and cacao fat, the medium jars with the mica, arrowroot and jojoba. Finally, the smaller pigment jars and scent jars. He stroked his fingers over them, unable to keep the wide grin from his face.
He wasn’t just a common street whore. No, he’d be a good mage. He’d use his powers for pleasure and beauty. He finally felt like he had returned to himself a little, especially indulging in something he sensed the Veir would dismiss as silly.
A smile quirked at Vivian’s mouth.
A pity. The man would look fantastic in lipstick.
