All Made Up (Marta x Cecil)

Marta was trying to be inconspicuous. He was wearing his school uniform and most importantly, one of those face masks that people often wear during the flu season. Alongside fairly wide-brimmed, fairly expensive looking designer sunglasses that he received once as a present from his older sister. Of course, the goal wasn't actually to be in disguise, though he was probably identifiable only by his hair.

He had saved up a great deal of money, but unfortunately it would not be going towards food. Instead, the only thing he had picked out from the various shelves of the convenience store was a fairly inexpensive, but apparently effective brand of concealer. That was apparently all he needed, since he figured the pre-existing BB cream he had would more or less double as the necessary foundation.

The previous day was already awful by almost any serious definition and Marta had only received a further unpleasant surprise first thing in the morning. With not a bit of unhappiness, he purchased the make-up with an automatic check-out machine, taking his time while putting in exact change. Marta had grown very good at counting change.

The smell from the convenience store grill was almost mindbogglingly tempting. It would be only a dollar to gain the right to eat some fried dish he would find disgusting under most circumstances. But Marta steeled his will, realizing that he had much more important priorities right now than eating.

Cecil...wasn't exactly in a good mood. It was with a listless expression and his headphones atop his head that he walked lethargically into the store, music doing its best to ease how drained he was.
He'd done enough studying for about a lifetime, and he still had far more ahead of him. Worse yet, he hardly even realised just how badly this was affecting him.
Even if he'd act alright, and thought he felt alright, it was pretty obvious to anyone looking that he was practically dead inside.

He grabbed a drink, went to get it scanned at one of the machines...and it didn't register it.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
AGAIN!

His grip tightened just a little as he fought with the machine, mood continuing to fall deeper into the pit he dug for himself.

For his part, Marta in fact did recognize the young man who was having trouble with the scanner. He thought it was the very definition of insanity, trying to do the same thing over and over when it was clear that one should just try out a different machine or call a clerk over.

That being said, Marta absolutely had zero desire to interact with Cecil in his current state. He quickly walked past the increasingly annoyed and frazzled classmate, trying to quickly stride outside and hoping that the classmate did not recognize Marta, whose face was luckily difficult to see past his cough mask and sunglasses.

Almost if on command to vex the young man, the alarm started blaring in response. The local clerk rushed over, immediately realizing that the machine had made an error, before trying to check out the item again. Marta almost grinded his teeth in annoyance at what he assumed was his own failure to buy things properly, but he otherwise said nothing and let the clerk do his duty and leave, before himself picking up his purchase again and preparing himself to head outside.

Fuck it.
He didn't need this anyway.
Rather than do what seemed obvious to Marta, he gave up altogether and put the thing back where he found it. He didn't need it anyway, and right now it was more fucking trouble than it was bloody worth.

Subsequently, the alarm went off, a sound which pierced through his protections to grate on his ears - something that this was frankly the entirely wrong time for.
Cecil's teeth ground as red started to creep through the gray haze, and shot a glare towards what seemed to be the source to find someone that seemed...somewhat familiar. There was a certain level of ambiguity to the situation - the uniform wasn't exactly unique, and their face was covered.
However, all that went ignored because that quite a familiar set of hair he saw, along with a set of sunglasses that practically confirmed the whole thing on the simple account that they looked stupidly expensive.

Cecil abandoned his shopping to follow after Marta after he left, teeth grit and eyes narrowed.
"The weeds and the vending machine were one thing, but you weren't seriously trying to shoplift, were you?" He gives a frustrated sigh as he removes his headphones, staring down Marta. "You're spending way too much on fashion if you have to resort to all of this."

Marta's eyebrows furrowed considerably, although it was very difficult to see his offense considering the sunglasses covering them. Marta was terse, almost unfriendly sounding, "That's a joke, right? You of all people should know the new machines are less than perfectly reliable."

Although Marta was trying to avoid socialization, he didn't avoid noticing Cecil's repeated attempts to purchase a drink. He then naturally retorted, "Also, I don't spend money on fashion. The vast breadth of my wardrobe is hand-me-downs. All of this-" Marta gestured to his clothing with his free hand, "-is quite obviously at least a season or three out of fashion."

It was in fact probably not obvious to anyone who didn't pay close attention to current high fashion trends. But Marta wasn't lying - almost all of his clothes, as expensive as they would be to buy, were clothes unwanted by family friends or relatives, by virtue of falling slightly out of fashion. Marta very inconspicuously often took such clothing off of other people's hands. It was a very frugal way to look very wealthy.

This was an actual significant admission on Marta's part, that he probably wouldn't make to most people that he trusted less or deemed more judgmental. His relative frugality was often viewed as a modest family shame, a mild eccentricity.

The boy let out a hiss at the comment, his gaze hardening and getting more pointed. As Marta continued on, his near shut as he took a deep breath, pushing the frustration down as best he could and always had. "It's obvious to people who follow it and have money to throw about on it. That rules out a lot of people, Marta." As he opened his eyes, he traded the harsh look for one that was simply flat, teeth grit but otherwise refusing to commit to strong emotion. "Though I question why you need to do the things I've seen from you if you're able to get enough fashion, out of season or not, to make a 'vast' wardrobe of from simple hand-me-downs."

He focuses in, raising an eyebrow. "Or, for that matter, why you seem to be trying so badly to be anonymous - not sure expensive sunglasses help with that by the way - when you're just going to a convenience store. You look kind of suspicious, honestly."

Marta shrugged at the man's snippiness. Marta felt it was generally not worth replying to other people's emotions with any emotions of his own - and it seemed like Cecil was in a poor mood. He really didn't know at all how to deal with angry people. He responded rather flatly, "Oh, perhaps." However, one thing Cecil said did surprise him. Cecil seemed to have assumed that Marta was attempting to stay anonymous. Upon thinking about it, Marta guessed his appearance did look like someone trying to trying to stay anonymous. Though that wasn't his actual intention. He shrugged,

"I do suppose in retrospect, I look like one of those idols trying to hide from paparazzi. Oh, but don't worry, I'm not trying to stay anonymous. After all, I'm talking with you right now, aren-". Marta wasn't trying to stay anonymous - but he was keenly aware that social interaction carried a unique risk right now. And it immediately struck Marta that he'd rather Cecil make an incorrect conclusion than dig further, "Actually, never mind, let's just assume that I'm trying to hide from paparazzi. So never mind that, why not just have the clerk check out the drink?"

Alright...once more, Cecil was suspicious. The entire farce at the vending machine was at least comprehensible, but now he was backtracking in the middle of a statement that seemed perfectly ordinary. And...poooossibly trying to divert him so he had a chance to slip off.
He wasn't usually great at this stuff, but he was pretty sure Marta was hiding something.
Still couldn't help but wince as he pointed out the obvious.

Briefly, Cecil looked away. "...didn't occur to me. I, ah...I'm not exactly thinking straight." It was no sooner than he'd finished saying that that Marta found himself faced with a blank, flat gaze once more. "Still not completely oblivious, though. Whether you were avoiding me or not...you definitely noticed me there and the problems I was having, and decided to ignore it and leave. And you're only now pointing out what I could have done right outside the shop after I came like this...and after cutting yourself off from saying something and changing your story."

It's at this point he notes again the gear covering his face - and that he's now insistent it's for the sake of staying hidden. The conclusion from there wasn't hard to make. "...you're covering something up. Literally."
He wasn't asking what it was yet...but it was obvious he'd taken interest in the whats and whys of the things that covered his face - and what was beneath them.

The first time Marta met Cecil, he had thought the boy looked rather stupid. He had since realized that his initial impressions did not seem to be correct, because the boy seemed considerably sharper than Marta's quite likely unfair first impressions judged. And unfortunately, it was this student that Marta had to run into.

That being said, Marta realized he was also acting unusually suspicious. One tactic, simply talking very quickly and trying to move the conversation through sheer force of will, appears to have not worked with Cecil. As a result, a more nuanced approach was necessary. Perhaps this time, humor?

He snapped his fingers, "Astute observation, Mr. Erinforth." He paused a bit before continuing with his strategy, "Yes, it is indeed said in some corners of the internet that children who stare directly into my eyes are irreversibly transformed into stone. That'll teach them to take their daily lives for granite." Marta said all of that in a total normal, matter-of-fact tone, hopefully in an attempt to make the joke better.

Cecil still stared blankly, but it was less the blank of lifelessness, than one of 'did you really just do this'.
After it sinks in, the joke actually gets a couple of snickers out of him.
"Please." A small smile works its way onto Cecil's face. "If you really were a gorgon, you'd have Cadets coming your way soon enough to rock your world." He shifts in place, putting his weight on one leg as his hands delve into his pockets. "...but seriously, though. After what I've seen from you, forgive me if I try to make sure you're not ignoring something you shouldn't." Again. "...it's not like the whole world's going to know."

Marta largely did not react, because he simply actually totally missed Cecil's counter-pun, "Well, don't believe everything you read on the internet. Even videos lie, sometimes."

Marta was relieved. It seemed that the young man was weirdly curious about Marta, but Marta also suspected that Cecil wasn't going to figure out anything that Marta didn't let him if he was choosing to ask Marta instead of find out everything against his will.

Marta's initial response to give off a little innocuous information that was technically true in order to throw Cecil "off the scent". But the student was simply at a loss. He in fact concluded that he could not reveal anything without piquing significantly more interest.

That being said, Marta could be honest in a very vague sense, "Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I am doing the opposite of ignoring. I am being very pro-active. Part of why I look like a idol pop star heading to some raunchy illicit tryst." He paused for a second before clarifying, "Only looks like, to be clear by the way."

"...when I got you out of that vending machine, you didn't even notice you were bleeding, and you were more concerned about your clothes when you did notice. I doubt you'd have even sorted that out at all if left alone." Or he would...but only to avoid stains.
Hmmm...
"And what are you doing about it, exactly?"

Marta wasn't budging from his old line. "On the contrary, cuts naturally heal themselves. I suppose unless I die, which was very unlikely."

Marta figured if the wound would have gotten infected, it would have gotten infected from whatever cut it, not failing to bandage it. So he really paid it little heed.

Cecil's next question, seemed like the crux of the matter, "Ah, well, that." He paused, "That's a personal matter." Before he sounded too harsh, Marta tried to strike a less stern tone, "After all, a boy's got to have his secrets." In an unusual degree of levity, Marta put up a ssh sign with his free hand to his mouth. He would not normally do this, but sometimes, some degree of levity probably made it easier to sweep everything under the rug.

Cecil did not find it humorous. It was not lighthearted or pleasant.
Cecil cringed, for the individual that Marta was inducing a recollection of was one that it would be inappropriate not to react to in such a way.
Such was the fate of all those that dealt with the pink terror.

"...you are ignoring it." It was the first thought his mind clung to as it fled the memories of tea and feet, and he clung to it with a deathgrip. "Covering it up is not the same as addressing it. If anything, it's the opposite - hiding it away so you don't have to deal with it."
"I can't make you tell me...I'm not going to try and rip anything off either. But I'm not letting this drop either." In other words...he was going to keep going until Marta gave up or there was a massive escalation.

Marta give a pensive scowl that was still largely obscured by his mask. A scowl that quickly worsened into a genuine snarl, "NO. No. That kind of sweeping means having to deal with it every single day. Instead of blundering around like a cretinous child and fucking everything because you want an easy same-day fairy tale happy ending."

An uneasy silence immediately ensued as Marta himself did not expect to lose his temper, as he dialed everything way back as he shook his head at himself, "...okay, I must apologize for getting snappy there. But what possible good would emerge from you knowing every detail of my personal life? To busy yourself with things you can't change?"