Be a Man (Solo)

[Maya Frostfawn]

Timestamp: Fall 33, 523 AV The day was young. In fact, the sun was just beginning to rise over the edge of the horizon. Its weak morning rays extending their slender golden tendrils through the dusty window and into Maya's flat, where she had been awake, lying in bed all night, thinking of the cold and the endless snow of the home she had long left behind. While the thoughts had occupied her, they hadn't truly entertained her, and she was thankful for the sun's light. For it meant she had something by which to work, for lighting candles all throughout the night, every night, would have been strange to anyone who had set their sights on her home and she feared such an action. The doctor had asked that she come into work a little later than usual today, so she had some time in which to work, and decided to challenge herself by attempting to disguise herself as a man. The disguise wouldn't truly be complete for she lacked the attire of a man, but she had a kit and the time to disguise the rest of her and wanted to see how she could do without the clothes. So, she pulled herself off her bed, retrieved her disguise kit and set it on the table, before positioning her small steel mirror beside it so it would be easy to study her appearance as she worked on her disguise. When she was done getting everything settled, into its ideal place, she took a seat at the table beside her supplies and set to work. Maya carefully opened her disguised kit and pulled out a number of different items she was pretty sure she'd use. These items included makeup brushes, foundation, blush, a sticky fluid that she could use to add the hair in a jar to her skin, a ribbon she could use to tie her hair back, so she could be one of the men who wore their hair long and wanted it kept out of the way... When she was done pulling out everything she thought might be useful and setting it beside her case, she set to work. She would begin by laying a foundation upon which she could build, and going from there. For first, she needed to make herself look alive, to hide her undead nature. The paleness of her skin. How very dry it was. The large bags under her eyes, which had bags beneath them. How scrawny she truly was. She needed to give her skin a more vibrant appearance, a more rounded appearance to her cheeks, as opposed to a sunken one. One that betrayed the fact that she hadn't eaten for quite some time, and not simply because she lacked the necessary funds to properly feed herself. Thus, she reached for her foundation first and carefully opened the jar before grabbing one of the makeup brushes she had set aside earlier. She dipped the brush into the foundation, covering the bristles before pulling it out and splashing a streak of the foundation against her cheeks, chin, and brow. After placing that initial streak of foundation upon her skin, Maya rubbed it in with several swipes of her makeup brush. She drew the foundation across her skin with the bristles, rubbing it into her cheeks, chin, nose, forehead, and every other exposed portion of her face. When she was done, she turned her face from left to right and took a moment to study herself in the mirror. From what she could tell, she had covered every exposed inch of flesh without missing a spot. And now her skin appeared a pale peachy shade, tinged brown. It looked a little splotchy and wet to her too, but she supposed that was simply the nature of foundation and could be amended later. Having completed the layer of foundation she wanted to apply to her face, Maya repeated the process with both of her hands, which would be exposed too. She supposed she should consider investing in a pair of gloves at some point. Although she couldn't work with them on, they would be an easy and relatively cheap way of concealing her hands from prying eyes. This was something that could save her valuable time if she was ever in a rush, and money since they were bound to last far longer than the makeup she purchased for her disguises. They were also rather practical for this time of year, now that a chill was beginning to settle into the land. With that thought in mind, Maya finished covering each of her hands and wrists, which were also bound to be exposed if she stretched just a tad too much, with foundation. When she was finished, she closed her jar of foundation and set her soiled makeup brush down beside the rest of her supplies. After taking a moment to let her gaze dance over what she had pulled out earlier, she decided to begin adding blush to her skin. Although men weren't likely to wear it in their everyday activities, she lacked life and needed it simply to brighten her skin and make her appear alive. Word Count: 861

[Maya Frostfawn]

The blush was a delicate shade of pink that reminded her of early flowers blooming in the spring, of a pig's skin. She smiled as she opened her container, revealing the powder that had already begin to inch down the length of its jar from previous use. She reached for a fresh makeup brush a moment later and dipped it into the blush, soaking the bristles in pink. She watched as its splash of color danced through the dark bristles, dabbed it a little longer before raising the brush from the container and guiding it to her cheeks. She brushed the blush against her right cheek, then the left, before going back over each with the makeup brush, which had gathered a touch of the foundation during her latest ministrations. She wound the blush into her skin by swirling it around and around her cheeks, making their entirety seem rosy and the application of the makeup appear more balanced and natural. When she was finished a few moments later, Maya realized that her face, although far more lively now than it had been before, was missing something. And she decided after a moment's thought to add some blush to her nose as well, for she had realized during the course of her travels that men's noses often grew red when their emotions ran high or when they had been working hard, or, like women, when they grew cold. Thus, she dashed some more blush onto the tip of her nose with the help of her makeup brush, and then brushed it into her flesh so it seemed more natural. When she was done, she turned her face from left to right, studying herself in the mirror. She certainly seemed far more alive now than she had previously, she realized, but that was saying little given the nature of her very being and what makeup was capable of, and in her case, designed to do. She also noticed that the foundation had continued to dry against her flesh, and it seemed a tad less damp than it had before, although some of the dampness remained and in certain areas of her skin, it seemed almost... clumpy? For a lack of a better word. As though she had natural imperfections in her skin. Ridges, pimples. Things humans, especially human women, were always complaining about. The areas in which she had applied the brush seemed drier than those that only bore the foundation she had applied to her skin. And in some areas, perhaps where the foundation mixed with the blush the most, her skin was the driest. It also had a slightly thicker appearance than other portions of her skin, which she struggled to describe. But when she thought of it, she thought that human skin looked like this sometimes too. It was more noticeable on women then on men, however, for their faces tended to lack additional hair, whereas the face of a man was far more likely to bear facial hair that hid the imperfections in their face's composition. After studying her face for a little longer, Maya concluded that she had constructed a decent base with which to work. However, the area just beneath her eyes could use a little work, for the bags were peaking through the foundation a bit. Not the color as much as the contours that defined them. Thus, she reached for the eyeshadow, which was a softer shade of pink than the blush, opened its little jar, before reaching for a fresh makeup brush which she dipped into the makeup, before swiftly brushing it beneath the curve of each of her eyes. When she was done, she went back over the pale pink eye shadow with her brush countless times until she had worked it into her skin in a way that made it seem natural as opposed to makeup, something she had applied to cover its true nature, and keep it from prying eyes. When she was done, she took another few moments to survey herself in the mirror again. Her face, although entirely painted on, which was strange for a man, was coming along nicely. It seemed as though it belonged to a being who was actually alive, as opposed to one who was undead. However, if one looked closely, they could probably discern that it was comprised entirely of makeup, and the texture was off here and there, damp or a little too dense, (depending on the area), because of the nature of the makeup she applied. She would thus, have to ensure that no one looked at her too closely, or for too long. Her lips were another problem too; they were far too sickly a shade. A sort of greyish-blue in the light, which she could not allow if she wanted her disguise to work. She would have to paint them, but all she could see as she looked through her things was a bright rouge, which would tip anyone who looked at her off that she was in fact wearing rouge, something men weren't likely to apply during the course of their daily activities. Momentarily stumped, she wondered if there was a way she could apply it that would make it seem lighter and her lips a more natural shade, a shade that could allow her to pass as a man. Word Count: 893

[Maya Frostfawn]

The nuit wondered if she could apply the rouge as she might normally, as though she were dressing as a woman, and then lighten the shade of the rouge with the additional application of some eyeshadow or another makeup. Foundation may work, but may lighten the rouge to a sickly shade, she feared. So, she settled on trying it with a touch of eyeshadow, if she could get it to stick to the gentle curve of her lips. Maya began by opening her container of rouge and sticking her finger inside it. Once she had coated the tip of her finger with rouge, she guided it around the length of her lips, first the upper and then the lower lip, until her lips were relatively evenly coated with the rouge. Then, she pressed her lips together and wiggled them around to even out the coat even further before surveying her work in the mirror she had set on the table earlier on during the course of her day. Yes, definitely a touch too bright. A pause within her thoughts. Too feminine. It simply won't work; I have to lighten it. Hopefully, the eyeshadow will help. She reached for a container filled with light pink eyeshadow, not too much lighter than the blush she had used on her skin earlier, and opened it. She dipped a clean finger into it, and then spread the eye shadow around her lips. After she had finished taking the time to rub it in, she pressed her lips together again, wiggled them around to spread the color evenly, and then took another moment to study herself in the mirror. It seems... chalky, she thought to herself as she studied them. Or perhaps a tad dry would be a better way of describing them, she thought. And while the rouge has lightened a bit with the eyeshadow's application, it isn't nearly enough for them to pass as the lips of a man. She paused in her study and her work for a moment, temporarily stumped. A moment, then another passed like this, spent in silence, before easing its way into silent contemplation. She considered each of the men she had met recently, the nature of their faces. Their lips in particular, and came to the perhaps wrong conclusion, that men's lips tended to be both lighter and thinner than that of the average woman. Thus, she decided to return to the drawing board by wiping her lips on the back of her dress. This smudged the makeup around her lips, forcing her to take a moment to reapply it, by spreading it out with the makeup brushes she had soiled earlier during the course of her disguise work. When she was done, she tried applying the rouge again with the tip of her finger, but only applying the pressure of half her finger's pad as opposed to the full pad, so the rouge only settled into the portion of her lip closest to her mouth. The line she drew around them with the rouge was wavering and imperfect, and left the impression that her lips were thinner and two-toned in nature, with one section appearing more pink as the rouge bled into it and one section appearing more red where the rouge was most heavily applied. I wonder... Maya began rubbing the line of rouge she had drawn with her fingertip over and over, easing it into her lips, smearing it against what lay beneath. After a few seconds, she stopped and pulled her finger away from her face so that she would have a clear view of herself in the mirror. The rouge was far lighter than it had been when she started this new approach, as she had rubbed a great portion of it off her lips and smeared the rest into her lips and the surrounding area. She looked like a loose woman, one who kissed too often after applying makeup and it had begun to come off from the effort. Alternatively, a man who had been busy kissing a woman who wore cheap makeup for quite some time. Either way, it wasn't precisely the look she had been going for, so she wiped the rouge away from her lips with the back of her dress, reapplied the makeup that had been wiped away from the edge of her lips in so doing, and then sat for a moment, staring at herself in the mirror. She supposed the foundation was worth a try, so she brushed it into her lips with the help of her makeup brush, before adding the rouge over it. When she was done, she studied herself in the mirror again and realized the effect made her lips look somewhat damp and a little clumpy, similar to how her skin looked when she had only applied foundation to it. The rouge had also paled with the application of the foundation to a shade that seemed to Maya as though it might actually appear on a man's face. Or at least, it was more likely to appear. It may still be a shade or two to bright, but it was the best Maya had done so far. And unsure of how else to adjust its shade or fix it, she decided to leave it for now, and work on adjusting it another day when she actually intended to use the disguise in public. For now, she would simply move on to the application of facial hair to finish her practice disguise. The disguise that made her into a man. She was beginning to think simply taking one of their bodies, (which they weren't even using anymore, so really she was just ensuring it didn't go to waste), would be far easier and faster than what she was trying to do now, as she pulled the supplies she would need for this part of the disguise closer to her person. Word Count: 994

[Maya Frostfawn]

Since this was the first time Maya was using this portion of her disguise kit, she decided that she would begin her practice by applying the hair to the back of her left hand, which she felt would be easier than applying it her face and right hand, (since her right hand was her dominant hand). She had found a sticky fluid she could use to stick things to her body earlier during the course of the day and pulled that jar toward her. The fluid was mostly clearly, but had a faint white tint to it. And when she opened the jar, she realized that its smell was faint, nearly nonexistent. And what little she could pick up, she could not name. All she knew was that it was sticky. Thus, she didn't wish to apply it to her makeup brush, or at least the side with the bristles, for fear that she would ruin it if she failed to clean the brush properly, or in time, or whatever the case would be with this particular adhesive. So, she raised one of the brushes she had soiled early, and dipped the back into the adhesive. Then, she applied it to one of the knuckles on her left hand. The fluid was cold and seemed to thin and lighten as she applied it to her skin. As soon as she applied it, she realized she should have prepared the jar of hair earlier. But, she did that now, opening it to reveal small hairs the length of the average man's beard. She wondered if they were actually beard hairs, they appeared wiry, or if they belonged to some animal like a dog or cat. In any case, she applied a small pile to the back of her hand by pinching a bit of the hair out of the jar, and then pressing what she had pinched into the patch of hair she had prepared with the adhesive. She held her fingers there for a moment, wanting to be certain that the hair stuck, or at least as much of it as possible if it was not possible to get it all to stick. After she had held the hair in place for a few moments, she removed the pressure she had been applying and surveyed her work. Some of the hair floated away from her skin and onto the floor. The rest clung to the back of her knuckles in a tight nest of brown hair. It seemed unnatural, hair didn't curl like that from what the nuit could recall. Does that mean I have to apply each hair individually? That would be rather time-consuming and nonsensical given the nature of the adhesive. Perhaps, I have to groom it after and fashion it into a suitable style? she considered, as she reached for her comb and began combing the hairs. It straigtened them a little, and some of the adhesive oozed onto the comb alongside a bit of hair, but some of the hairs still remained curled into a tight nest, even with repeated brushing. Maya rose and quickly cleansed the comb of the adhesive so as not to ruin it, giving her hand another moment to dry. When she felt it hardening to the point that it was beginning to tickle her skin, she glanced down at it again and noticed that the adhesive had become transparent as it dried, (which was good for disguise purposes). With the adhesive nearly dried, she tried combing the hairs again, and found that she had straightened more, but several still curled into a nasty nest. Maybe I have to be careful not to bend or curl the hairs when I apply them. Make sure they are all facing the same direction, she thought as she applied another bit of the adhesive to the back of her hand, before carefully retrieving another bit of hair from the jar. This time, when she applied it, she was careful to place them all in the same direction, running up and down the length of her hand. Some slipped and slid away, of course, before she could get them into their proper place and pin them down with pressure, but she managed to get most of them where she had intended them to be. She repeated this process a few more times, as she couldn't apply as much hair as she had previously at once with this method. It took her a few minutes, but she managed to cover all of the adhesive she had applied with hair eventually. She waited for it to dry for a few moments before looking at her work and seeing that it appeared cleaner and more natural than it had before; the hair didn't appear as a nest but a wide river of short hairs flowing from one side of her hand toward the other. She brushed them delicately to see if they straightened a little more. For the most, part, they didn't, but ultimately, she was far happier with her work this time around than she was with her first attempt, although it could still use some fine-tuning, which she assumed would come with some more practice. With that in mind, she applied the adhesive to her face in a quick streak below the nose and above her upper lip before setting the sticky brush down to retrieve some hair which she quickly, but relatively carefully, applied to her face to create the illusion that she had always had a mustache. She finished a few minutes later, waited for the adhesive to dry again, combed the mustache out a little and studied her work. It was certainly a mustache, if not the neatest one... she would simply have to practice to make it perfect. Now that her appearance was taken care of, she wanted to practice the last portion of her disguise, which had nothing to do with how cosmetics were applied to body. Her walk, for the walk of the average man, she felt, was nothing like that of a woman. Word Count: 1,015

[Maya Frostfawn]

Maya got the sense that men walked differently than women for a few different reasons. The first she felt was cultural, what was expected of a man as compared to a woman. The second was because men wanted to convey different things than the average woman, confidence and strength, as opposed to a woman's seductiveness and desirability, for example. And the final reason came from the difference in their bodily structure; men tended to be both taller and broader than women and had a different sort of anatomy, which led to wider and boxier movements. Larger, less fluid steps on average, than that of a woman. These were things she'd have to mirror as she moved, or she would give her true nature away to anyone who truly bothered to take the time to look at her. With this in mind, she rose from the table, pushed her chair in and began moving in circles about her tiny flat. She began by moving as quickly and as confidently as she could, (head held high and back straight), while doing her best to move as though she didn't have a stick up her butt and to move in a way that didn't suggest that she was hurrying. In a way that suggested she was moving as quickly as she wanted to from one place to another, with a mixture of confidence and purpose flooding her heart. This she found somewhat difficult to do, first, because she was not accustomed to moving in this fashion. And second, because of the physical limitations of her body, the frailty of her kind and how she never worked to counter this by working out with each of her bodies or anything in that vein. But as she continued to practice, she supposed she got a little better with it, even if it might not have been the most noticeable to anyone who might have been watching her. As she improved her walk, and grew slightly more confident in her sense of improvement, she decided to adjust how she moved by trying to mirror the boxiness she felt existed within a man's steps. As she moved, however, she realized she wasn't quite sure how to do this, because she kept swinging her hips around far too much. Making her seem like a drunk, or a woman who really didn't know how to move around seductively. She tried to adjust that a little by doing it less, but that just felt stiff to her. She kept trying and trying a number of different ways of moving, but nothing ever felt quite right and she realized she would simply have to try and figure it out at another time. For now, she needed to clean everything up and get ready for the day, helping people that were probably better off not paying a visit to the Clinic and the good doctor that presided within with his undead assistant. Thus, Maya returned to her table and for a moment, wondered if the adhesive she had applied would simply begin to harden and then, crack, releasing the hair from her body. But a part of her doubt that, that would be atrocious in the case of a long-term disguise and something that would ensure these expensive kits weren't purchased again after their initial purchase. So, there must be something in the kit, she realized, that would remove what she had applied. Just like women who had makeup removal cloths and other removal products at their disposal. Thus, she rummaged around in her kit for a few moments for something that didn't immediately strike her as makeup and came up with a pale yellow fluid. When she opened the vial that held it, she realized that it really didn't have a scent. At least nothing she could discern. And when she stuck her finger into it, it felt oily to her. Especially when she rubbed it between her fingers. At least it's not urine, she thought as she continued to rub it between her fingers until they took on a bright, slippery appearance and she came to the conclusion that the fluid was either some sort of oil or made largely from oil, or at the very least, to mimic oil and its natural properties. Instead of soiling yet another makeup brush, she dipped her finger into the fluid again, and then rubbed her finger onto one of the patches of hair she had applied to the back of her hand. The fluid seeped through the hair and onto the adhesive, where it began to overflow and move away. Maya, not wanting to waste it, began to wipe it into her skin with her dirty finger, and gradually, this began to break the adhesive up until it came away from her skin, releasing the hair in little trickles like the first snow of the year falling from the sky, and then clumps. Smiling, now that she knew what to do, Maya quickly cleaned her skin of the hair and then everything else she had applied during the course of her practice. She would need a fresh foundation on which to build her disguise for the day, the face she would wear to work. And thus, she began again by applying foundation to her skin with the brush she had soiled earlier. Wiping it all around her face until she appeared as peachy as the people who were walking around in the world just outside her door. Word Count: 916