Spa Day

Posted on Wed Jan 22nd, 2020 @ 12:52pm by Kodria Mizu & Crewman Sharonne Washington & Lieutenant JG V'lera
Edited on on Fri Jan 24th, 2020 @ 12:05am

Mission: Neutral Zone Neutrality
Location: Goddess Salon, Deck 10, Civilian Services Sector
Timeline: 2397

Sitting in the chair of her own salon, finger flipping idly on the tablet in her hand, sat the bisected black and white cosmetologist known as Sharonne Washington, native of Houston, Texas. Chief cosmetologist of the USS Hera, she had a surprising dearth of clientele. Most Starfleet types cut their hair with a flowbee and didn't seem to understand the concept of a manicure. Thus while there were some exceptions- Hera was a weekly visitor, twice weekly if she really wanted a seaweed wrap- Sharonne sat bored for much of her shift, just waiting for someone to come along.

Today she was contemplating adding holographic claws to her fingernails, just to see what sort of a rise she could get from Mustaphel the baker or the server crew in 10-Forward.

V'lera had some time before the day was done. She would not start duties yet as she still had a physical to do. There were so many changes she had to contend with. Change had always been hard for her, and she had to push herself through it. She reflected on a conversation she had during her counseling evaluation with Commander Edelweiss. The woman had suggested a few things that V'lera had dismissed but... perhaps with all the changes one more might be worth it. She was trying to be bold, after all. Deciding that a small change might be warranted, one that that could easily be reversed, she headed to the local beauty salon. She'd always worn her hair up either in a high pony tail or tight bun. She wanted to try it down...could her hair even curl? She'd never tried.

She found herself walking into the salon. She saw the cosmetologist, or the woman she assumed was the cosmetologist, and walked towards her wondering how one started these conversations. "Hello. I am Lieutenant Junior Grade V'lera."

"Oh, hey, hi!" The black and white woman's clearly artificial eyes literally glowed upon seeing the surprise customer, and she uncurled herself out of the chair to stand up, looking up at the emerald-skinned Vulcanoid. "Wow, you have amazing skin. Do you moisturize?"

She shook her head. "No. I have been told I should. I have... questions... about that, but I am here because I require some assistance with this," she said motioned to her hair with her hand. She removed the clip from her hair and let it fall. The hair, although clean and peppermint scented from her shower prior to leaving the ship that transported her here, was hanging lifeless and dull. "I have never...paid much attention to my hair. I usually wear it up but was recently told that a change might help."

She said the word 'change' as if it were disgusting. She didn't like change, but she would try. She promised a Starfleet counselor, gave her word and she always kept her word. Her hair was raven black and long, hanging down to her waist. She'd had it longer, but she'd cut it to a manageable length, and she'd done it herself. Tied in a braid of desired length and snipped. This would be a new experience. Someone other then herself would be touching her hair, and that made her nervous.

"Okay, that is quite the investment of years in your hair. Cool! Alright, come on over and have a seat, and let's talk about this!" The young women smiled brightly as she gestured to the choir, then fetched a black rectangle of fabric from one of the sterilizers. As her prospective client reluctantly took her seat in the stylist's chair, she found herself staring at a trifold mirror, thus three images of herself stared back at her from different angles. Whipping the cape about the woman with a practiced flourish, the bisected human secured the cape about her neck comfortably, then reached into a drawer to withdraw a very specific looking hairbrush, as she began combing through the silky straight hair.

"So, first, you and I are in this together. WE are going to discuss what's going to happen, WE are going to make the changes, and then WE can always adjust things from there. And until the shears close, nothing is permanent, okay? So first we talk." Sharonne, like any stylist who was worth their weight, knew that even for unemotional types, a girl's hair was still important. So she just said what she'd say to any client that came to her seeking a change. "So let's see, this is about six year's worth of growth here. Your hair, on the average, grows about 15 centimeters a year. So this is quite the investment you have here. So are we thinking something shorter, something more manageable, something easier to wear, lower maintenance? Or did we want to do a style that would take advantage of all of this hair, since it's here?"

As she chirpily asked her questions, the young woman was brushing through the clean and straight tresses, massaging the scalp as she did so. Even the unemotional types tended to enjoy that, so long as you didn't touch them, and only touched the brush and the hair, and as a cosmetologist to the stars, Sharonne knew this rule well. Thus she worked the hair, giving her client time to contemplate and articulate her initial thoughts.

V'lera had been somewhat petrified when she'd entered. She hadn't wanted to admit this, not even to herself but the young woman seemed to put her at ease. She sighed a little rather liking the feeling of having her hair combed. She could feel the pressure of the bristles and it calmed her. "It was...very long at one point. Last year I braided it and cut it to this length. Perhaps...an inch or two shorter is alright." She thought a moment and then said. "My mother...used to have curly hair. Not curls per say but waves. I am part Vulcan so I am not sure. I have never tried to curl it. I do not know how." It was the truth. She was a bit weary of admitting it. She knew very little about hair and make up... she dressed for comfort even on her time off.

“Well, there are options,” the stylish stylist replied. “We could do a loose perm for waves in your hair, or a tight perm from really crazy curls, but I doubt you want that. Or I could show you how to use a curling iron or a flat iron to curl your hair. It’s time consuming, particularly with this much hair, but then you have the options of straight or curled. Since you are looking to just get a trim on the ends, I’m guessing you aren’t looking for a radical change of pace?” Still brushing through the hair, the binary beautician kept the tone light as she reassured her client, still all smiles. “And we’re still just talking possibilities at this point, so don’t feel like you have to commit to anything. No pressure, just laying out the options, okay?”

"Of course." V'lera said. She looked in the mirror. She had so many questions. She'd always told her clients to pick a question and start. "What is a loose perm?" She instantly felt bad for ignoring the question that the woman asked so she answered it, "I am...not good with radical change," she simply said.

"Oh, sweety, don't worry about it. NOBODY is good with radical change until they go through a breakup. Then suddenly they want to reinvent themselves, and they think a new haircut's gonna solve that. Which, it kinda does, but it's riding a fine line between radical reinvention and just plain regrettable. A loose perm would install waves into your hair." Picking up her tablet from her counter, the black and white beautician tapped at the PaDD for a few seconds, then the reflection in the mirror changed, to show V'lera with long, loose curls in her hair, at the same length it was now.

"We have the cool advantage of holographics in this salon, so I can show you what it would look like before I make it happen. So, take a look. This is you with a large bore curl, about 10 cm bore or so. It'd still be able to be put up, it'd add a lotta volume and basically it'd make straight and flat go a bit more wild and untamed without turning you into a shaggy mass of curls. Now, with something like this, I would probably cut some face framing, where we angle it away from your face, like this..." Working the holographic image, the skilled stylist showed her client what that would look like, as the shorter hair graduating away to the longer mass definitely highlighted her features well and worked well with the curls.

She sighed. "If we did the iron of curls you mentioned before. What would that look like?"

"Thaaaat's a horse of a different color altogether. What it would look like is ideally like this, but it's... well, I'm not gonna lie. It's labor intensive, and you have a LOT of hair, so it would take quite a while. You have to section the hair and take it section by section. If you turn up the iron to work faster, you risk burning the hair or at the very least heat damaging it. If you take too big a sections the curl won't take or hold. And with YOUR hair?" The alien-appearing Earth girl assessed the hair, plucking up a section of it with a twist of the brush. "It'd take me 45 minutes to curl your hair, and that's because I know what I'm doing, and I'm standing outside your head. Reaching up and behind you is not the most intuitive way for most folks to work, but you have practice braiding, I'm guessing. Hey!"

The excitable electrologist stepped from behind V'lera, where she had been standing all this time, talking to the reflections in the mirrors. Stepping around in front of her though, she squinted at the hairline, then came eye to eye with the mistress of the talking cure. "You can braid, right? You know how to braid your own hair to get it out of your way?" Reaching up, Sharonne grasped a lock of her own hair at the scalp, separated it into three equal bundles, then her fingers wove the hair together as they moved down the shaft of wound hair those dexterous digits left in their wake. Stopping halfway down the braid, she dropped her own lock to see if the alien woman had the skill or at least got the idea.

"Yes. I have braided my hair several times. It is how I trim my own hair. I braid and the cut what is not required." She wondered if this woman too, like so many when she said that, would recoil. For some reason it appeared that not everyone liked to cut their own hair. "Will braiding make curling it better?" She had much to learn and she was feeling a little overwhelmed. She admitted that to herself. Then an idea popped into her head. She sighed as if she was about to do something painful but necessary; something she rarely did. "I will allow you to do what you think is best, but...no cutting more then an inch or two and no colouring." As she said the words she felt her heart hammering. She called on mind meditation techniques. The last thing she wanted to do was have a panic attack. Too much change too quickly was not good and she'd done some out of the ordinary things as of late.

Holding up her hands, the young woman showed the fronts and backs. "No shears in my hand, remember? What I was asking about braiding it because if you want curls but you don't want to spend hours doing it, you could braid your hair at night with it still damp, do a tight braiding, and in the morning when you let it down, it'll be curled. That's all I was suggesting. It's a lot easier than using a curling iron for flat iron to curl, and it can give you a temporary change. Because it's pretty clear you don't want to change your hair. And that's okay, you don't have to. Nobody is forcing you to, so don't feel pressured, okay?"

She studied the woman through the mirror and then caught her eye. "You are very good at keeping people at ease. I believe I can try that. Maybe we can try a trim and iron curled hair today?" She liked the woman instantly. She felt...safe here. She hadn't even minded the hair brushing.

“Sure, we can do a trim! It’ll smooth out your ends, and believe it or not, trimming your hair will stop a lot of the hair you see in the drains and your brush. It keeps the follicles healthy. You shooooould get it done about once every 2 months, just like a centimeter and a half. But so long as you’re maintaining your hair, washing and conditioning, it can go longer than that,” the buxom beautician explained. “Aside from that, sure, I can totally curl you up today, no problem!”

Pausing, the stylish stylist looked her client in the eye through the mirror. “So, usually when I do this, I shampoo and condition the hair, blow it dry then curl it. But I know a lot of people aren’t really comfortable being touched, Y’know? And I can’t do it with gloves on- well, I can wash your hair that way and I don’t need to touch you when I am drying it, but curling it is kind of a ‘touchy’ experience. So knowing that, are you okay with that?”

She paused and thought a moment. Having remembered her little notebook she pulled it out. "In for a penny in for a pound," she said as she opened the book and put a checkmark next to it. "Alright. Wash, condition, cut, curl and dry. She took a deep breath. She'd pay for this later but she was determined to push through it. She'd made the decision. This was a new chapter in her life and perhaps one should greet a new chapter with a new experience. She'd told her clients as much, today she'd follow her advice, if only this once and for the first time. She'd see how things went after that.

“Cool! Let’s get busy then!” the young woman with the infectious enthusiasm declared as she lifted up the countertop, revealing a sink with a curve inset for the client’s neck. Starting the water running and testing the temperature, she sprayed out the sink the left the water running. Opening a drawer, she produced a lightweight cape that was waterproof, and expertly flapped it open, dramatically settling it around her client in the chair before securing it at the neck, snugly but not tightly. Turning the chair around 180 degrees, the beautician to the stars lowered the chair, then let the back down to ease the back of her client’s head toward the sink. Gathering up the mountain of hair, she dropped it into the bowl, then eased her client’s neck into the rounded indention built to accommodate it.

Humming cheerfully to herself, the young woman expertly sprayed warm soothing water over the scalp and the volume of hair in the bowl. Then, moving efficiently, she snapped on a pair of latex gloves, then matched the mint scent already existing in the hair with her shampoo choice. Working the handful of shampoo into a lather, she began to massage it through the scalp with even and efficient massaging motion.

It was odd. The firm pressure on the scalp created quite the soothing sensation. She resisted the urge to sigh. It was as if the woman knew pressure points. She'd avoided having her hair cut and styled by anyone other then herself and now she was re-thinking things. As an avid journaling fanatic she could not wait to write about this. She'd been keeping a list since she'd left Earth and then Vulcan. She'd written down all the things she dreaded but now enjoyed or the items which she thought were going to be unpleasant and turned out alright. She even enjoyed the humming. The silence, which she normally loved, was broken by her speaking. "What drew you to being in this profession?" She actually wanted to know. One thing V'lera secretly loved was asking people what brought them to where they were. It was always fascinating how the experiences from people's past coloured the people they became.

“Oh, my momma was a beautician and her momma was too, so kind of a family tradition. I grew up around the salon, so I picked up most of what I know working the shop as a kid. Then when I got old enough, I went to cosmetology college to get certified. Once I did that, I thought about just taking over the family shop, but momma ain’t ready to retire just yet. So she told me I oughta sign onto a starship, go see the galaxy and junk. So, here I am, washin’ a green gal’s hair while out the window there’s big pretty space clouds and who knows where we might be next week?” Working the lather through the length of the hair, the woman’s nimble fingers never stopped moving as she talked.

“I mean, I like what I do. I help folks feel pretty, keep ‘em healthy, help them with their little dry scalp or skin problems, give them a new look or whatnot. It ain’t exactly savin’ the galaxy or nothin, but I do my little part and make folk’s lives better.” As she spoke, recalling how she had come to be here, the native Texan twang in her voice had become more pronounced. “So I haven’t seen you around before. Did you just transfer in, or are you just making your way out to see me?”

V'lera felt her shoulders relax. "I just transferred in a couple days ago." He paused and then decided to go back to the woman's comment. "Giving someone a new look or helping them with an issue that involves how they feel about themselves is like saving a galaxy. To that person you've given them a lot." She thought back to what the woman said about the shop. "Seeing the stars can be fun and you will be able to use that experience when you take over your family shop. Each generation, as I understand it, builds on knowledge from the last, so when you are ready, your business will be uniquely your own."

"Well, and it's a lot easier to settle down in the same place you've lived all your life if you go see the galaxy when you're young, right?" Sharonne observed. "Or who knows, I might find some handsome intergalactic prince out here who'll sweep me off my feet. But til then... yeah, I think making someone feel better about themselves can make a real difference. I've seen it plenty of times."

"Hey, I get through with you tonight, you should go to 10-Forward and show off to the locals. New on board, that's the best way to meet new people, right? And with this amazing hair of yours? I'll make you look like an alien princess in a uniform!" As she worked the shampoo through the hair, the woman folded it upon itself withing the washing basin. This much hair was a huge hassle to manage, and the woman didn't seem to know what to do with it, so the stylist wondered why she was so desperately attached to it, and why so much of her identity was wrapped up in it. But she kept that to herself- that was a lot deeper than most people appreciated in a service, so she's just give it the spa treatment and send her out looking fabulous.

V'lera resisted the urge to smile at the 'princess in uniform' comment. "I think I will skip ten forward. I...do not like crowds." She thought about the woman a moment. Her counseling brain kicked in, partially because of her rising anxiety. It had been a few months of major change, if she was being honest with herself, she hadn't had an anxiety attack ... yet but she knew it was coming. She'd had them since she was a child. Until now she'd kept them hidden and she planned to keep them hidden still. The way she warded off anxiety? Work.

"So tell me about yourself. Why the Hera?" If she could just get the young woman talking she could focus on her not what was going on with her hair or thinking about and reviewing the last few months.

"Not much to tell, really. I just applied and this was the ship they assigned me to. Civilian Services hires lots of folks like us for jobs, so we don't do it like you Starfleet types do- we just sign up, check whether we want colony or starship or space station duty, then they tell us where we'll be. So, I didn't pick the Hera, I guess the Hera picked me. Hera herself says it's kismet, but I don't know about all that." Rinsing the hair as she talked, , the stylist worked the exceptionally long hair in the bowl to control it and get it all free of shampoo before she began applying a heat-resistant conditioner that would aid her in the styling endeavor she'd be undertaking shortly.

"What about you? Why this ship? All the weirdness?" the black and white beautician asked solicitously.

"It is a fascinating ship. There was a need and I thought I could help." It was partially true. "Hera herself?" She asked.

"Uhhhh, yeah. There's this gal in the VIP quarters who says she's the real Hera, from like Greece, in ancient times? Anywhat, she's a realllllly nice lady. Comes down once a week, always with her honor guard from Security, and she gets mani/pedis, gets a wash and set, sometimes a skin conditioning... she's one of my regulars, really. Reminds me of my momma back home a little bit, you know? Sometimes she even gets her honor guard to do something with her, but mostly they're on duty, so they just keep an eye out for anybody suspicious, which," The bisected beautician offered a broad sweeping gesture to the rest of the empty shop, "not really much of a concern, but if the Borg attacked while Hera's in my shop, I'd never be safer. Those Security girls are all Amazons, y'know? Beefy gals, all of them. Not like ugly or anything, just, y'know... kind of large and in charge. One of them has to duck to get in the doorway."

As she had been speaking, the nimble fingers of the stylist were working the conditioner through the mass of hair, kneading it through the length while massaging the scalp in a precise and expert manner. It tended to be soothing, as there were a great number of nerve endings in the scalp, and it was a highly vascular area for most humanoids. Sharonna Washington was keenly aware of that, and used her massage technician skills in this cosmetology endeavor, keeping the anxious client calmed and soothed in her chair.

V'lera's interest had been peaked. She was a lover of history and specifically she'd been drawn to Ancient Greek Mythology. Was this woman the real Hera, or just someone who thought she was? The amazons...."Fascinating. You say that she comes in once a week?" V'lera would make it a point to meet her. For some reason her unease at being here and having her hair changed seemed to evaporate. She had to manually bring her mind back to the woman who was working her hair. "Tell me, what is a mani pedis?"

"Ahhhh, a mani/pedi is short for a manicure pedicure. Scrub the feet and hands, exfoliate and moisturize, clean and trim the cuticles and often add polish to strengthen and beautify," the esoteric esthetician explained. "It feels nice. It's an indulgence that helps make people feel more attractive, and rejuvenates often neglected yet herdworking parts of the body. It's theraputic, y'know? You wanna try one? No pressure, just offering."

"I do not think I am that brave yet. But perhaps down the line." She looked at the woman through the mirror. "I must say you have made this experience quite enjoyable so far. It is unusual for me. I wish to thank you for that."

"Oh, all part of the job. A girl's hair is her life, so you figure out how to put people at ease, get their trust, get a buy in and get them to go along with the ideas. I mean, they really are for their own good, so it's not that hard a sell, y'know?" The stylist finished rinsing the conditioner out of the hair, and wrung it out like a rope in the sing, winding the hair between her hands to gather it in and organized shape to be wring out. Then she produced a fluffy towel and deftly contained the mass of hair in it.

"Okay, let's sit up again and get you dried and styled, hmm?" The young woman raised the back of the chair up again to a sitting position, then gently sawing the chair around in a 180 degree arc that brought V'lera face to face with er reflections once more. "You sure you wanna do the flat iron? I've got you all wet, I could put you in rollers and dry you on gentle heat and you'll have curls for like a week or so..."

She thought a moment. "Alright. Curls." She would try the change a little. It would be intriguing to see herself in curls. She'd always had flat hair and she was enjoying being here.

"Coming right up!" The happy hairdresser toweled at the hair a bit to remove the excess water, then tossed the towel expertly into a recycler. Pulling out her small tablet, she tapped at it to order up here supplies, and in the slightly larger than average replicator, a platter with a variety of large-bore curlers appeared, which she moved to retrieve. "Gonna need a few of these, but this is a good start. Do you want anything? Water, soda water, cocktail, wine, coke, tea, a cosmo...?"

She thought a moment. "Perhaps some peppermint tea?" She was now feeling fully at ease. "So what other beauty services do you provide. I've learned about the maneatingpedi," she said running the words together.

"That's pretty much it," the texas beautician in space explained as she ordered up the tea from her tablet. Then as it was materializing, she cocked her head. "Well, no, there's facials... uh, treating the skin to rejuvenate and refresh. And there's sauna, but that's usually followed by a massage, and that's Maica's gig. You really want to be worked over after a long day? Make an appointment, she's up on 8. Magic hands. But for me, let's see... waking, which I am guessing you are not going to be that fond of... ah, hair removal. Buuuut..." Picking up the tea and delivering it to her client, the curious cosmetologist eyed the brows of the Vulcanoid Rigellian.

"I could maybe shape your brows for you?" the young woman asked experimentally, hoping not to offend. "I can even show you how, if you want? Lots of my clientele didn't necessarily grow up with grooming regimens. Which is cool, because that's where I come in, right?"

"Perhaps." She opened her mouth as if she was going to ask something, then thought better of it. Perhaps another time. "Just the hair for now then."

"Okay, no problem. Just offering, right?" Holding up her latex-gloved hands, the hairdresser held a comb and a roller. "I can't really do this effectively with gloves on. Sooooo do you mind if I take them off? I know a lot of the pointy-eared type folks don't like to be touched, so I like to ask consent before service, right?"

She gave a nod. "Of course. Please feel free." She was glad the woman asked. Touch telepathy was a funny thing. Sometimes it could be good, some times stronger then usual...at least for her. They had tried, at the monastery on Vulcan, to teach her how to control it... but for some reason it never sunk in.

With that, the efficient hairdresser went to work segmenting and rolling V'lera's lengthy hair onto large 13 cm curlers. Sharonne's nimble fingers worked the hair, spooling it onto the rollers with efficiency, although it still took nearly half an hour. The nonstop chatter evaporated as she worked, as it required concentration, and she suspected her client would enjoy the silence. Once all the hair had been collected into the curlers, the bisected beautician tapped a few buttons on her tablet, and the curlers warmed themselves, slowly intensifying for five seconds, until a distinct 'DING!' filled the air. As the atomic curlers powered down, Sharonne freed the hair from it's bondage, and curls fell wherever she let loose a long lock. Ropy, wavy curls now hung in the place of the silky straight hair the verdant doctor had known.

"Okay, I'm gonna style it for you and show you some looks, but for now, just run your fingers through it, play with it," the cosmic cosmetologist counseled the counselor.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at the woman through the mirror, "Why?"

"Uhhh..." Adapting quickly, the alien woman attempted to inform the logic of the client. "To experience the differing tactile experience, to see how it changes your outer appearance, to see what configuration pleases you the most?"

She did as the woman asked. It was interesting. She never spent much time on her hair. She washed it, combed it but never really ran her fingers through it. It was interesting. Tactile experiences weren't her strength. She could finally say she understood why Vulcans kept their hair short. In a moment of weakness she wanted to do the same. "What is next?"

Quickly, the stylist showed her client a few simple styling options using berets, braids and cloth-covered elastic bands to achieve different looks. realizing the audience she was playing to, the hairdressers was working on wrapping it up. Taking the ends in hand, she freehand nibbled off a few centimeters to satisfy the minimum trim she'd been authorized to cut by the client.

"Okay, so there are some styling ideas for you to try out if you want, and we're done," the beautician whipped the cape off dramatically, letting V'lera take in the new look awaiting her in the mirrors.

The time passed quickly and V'lera was happy with the outcome. She looked at herself in the mirror and was surprised at how changed she looked. "This is....fascinating." She averted her gaze seeming to be afraid of spending too much time looking in the mirror. She turned to Washington. "You have given me much to think about. If I is alright, I would like to return at a later time. I do have some questions."

"Sure, anytime!" the binary beautician expressed enthusiastically. "It's why I'm here. that, and formal occasions. Baroness von Alcott contracted me for the bachelorette party, so I'll be helping all the bridesmaids get ready. So that'll be fun! But yeah, you can come by or make an appointment. If I'm busy I'll book you later, right?"

She gave an inclination of her head. "Of course. I will see you...later." Quite happy with the result in her hair and feeling more at ease she headed out.