By the time Lollie had made it home, the small amount of control Clover had clung onto for Alastor's sake had dwindled down like the fibers of the rub beneath her feet by her pacing. She hadn't dared to go downstairs again, too busy scrolling through the constant feed of her social media to pay any mind to the rustling of the kitchen below her and too terrified to face any other interested party until she'd had time to process the problem at hand. The deeper she delved into Sinstagram's more scandalous sides, the more puzzling said problem became. Every conversation seemed to be the same, mostly focused on speculating on who she was or why Alastor had chosen her of all people to spend his time with, but what surprised her was that aside from the photo shown by the earlier broadcast, there was only a handful of identifying images spreading across the social media sphere. She supposed she could blame it on her disinterest in drawing digital attention to herself, the sole pictures posted online of her either the simple introduction that had been added to the Happy Hotel's page, a single blown-out photograph of her mirrored image, and the candid photograph that Angel had taken of her and posted on her behalf on one of their nights sprawled across his bedroom floor, but the knowledge that Vox had ample access to her image in the palm of his hand complicated things. Why would he rely solely on the easily accessible? Vox had no moral code regarding privacy that she knew of, and this most recent antic had only proved that further, so she couldn't comprehend why he had decided to now walk the line between publicity and privacy so carefully.

Despite the inconspicuous nature of her social media, Clover still went through the motions of changing her username and setting her profile to private; She didn't dare to check the message requests that had built up in her inbox. A small spike of spite fueled her name change, Clover mulling over the decision as she paced the carpet beside her bed. Her eyes fell on the camera she'd shoved into the back of one of her bookshelves and she can't help the small giggle that bubbles from between her lips as dark nails submit the alterations to her social media with a sharp tap. In a moment of genius, she scrambles off the bed and reaches for the offending Polaroid camera, tossing its strap around her neck and snapping a photo with it in her freshly-dusted mirror in a display of malice that blooms into manic glee.

The photo is nearly developed when Lollie peeks through the door, knocking on its front despite already being partway into the room with a small smile. With a start, Clover looks up from her continued scrolling through the comments of the most recent post from one of Hell's upper class about Alastor's "little secret".

"Hey Bunny, you doin' okay?"

"Define 'okay', and I'll let you know."

Tossing herself onto the bed beside her and bouncing the both of them in the process, Lollie fell into Clover's side with a heavy sigh. The soft curve of her chin rested against the bare skin that peered out from between the wide neck of Clover's sleep shirt as the candy demoness peered down at her phone.

"Didn't take you for a sadist, but I guess I should've known by your taste in men."

"You don't know anything about me." Clover sighed, backtracking onto the main feed of the uninventive tag that had been created to track updates on her love life. A post from a particular pimp caught her attention, and she was halfway through the motions of blocking the moth when her head raised sharply as she took notice of the missing third to their trio. "Where's Angel?"

"Takin' two for the team. Vox is in a good mood after today's ratings, and I was missing the right equipment to partake in the celebrations if you know what I'm sayin'."

"I don't want to know what that means- Is he okay? I mean, Valentino is bad enough but-"

"Oh, he'll be fine. Voxxy isn't as violent as Val about that kinda' thing, he's kinda' a missionary bitch. It's nothin' Mon Ange hasn't done before."

"But he has to, that's bad enough. I don't know how you'd do that willingly."

"So, are we going to talk about it or do you need to keep having an attitude for a few more minutes?"

Clover turned to Lollie with an argument on her tongue, but the knowing raise of thin brows sent it tumbling into non-existence with a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry- I just- I thought this was over, but now he does this?" Her fingers paused their fraughtful flicking, her feed landing on that fateful photograph that had been broadcast across the evening news as she turned it sharply in Lollie's direction. "They couldn't have used a better photo?"

Laughing at the sharp whine that had made its way into her voice and watching the way Clover puffed her bangs out of her face, Lollie pried the cell phone from between Clover's fingers to take a closer look at the photograph that filled her screen.

"Couldn't, your boyfriend corrupted every photo of you two in Vox's system."

Before Clover had time to even think about the information she'd just been unceremoniously presented with or the butterflies it bloomed in her stomach, Lollie straightened with a sharp intake of breath that bubbled into a gleeful giggle. Her grin widened to reveal sharp canines, slim fingers turning the phone's screen dark with the click of a button as Lollie tapped it against her open palm, and Clover swore she saw her eyes flash as they turned towards her, a devious glint rippling across them like the iridescence of pearl as heart-shaped pupils dilated.

"You wanna make sure the next one they get is a good one?"

"I'm thinkin' just a little trim, your hair is kinda' short to begin with so we can't really do too much to the length, and we don't wanna ruin the matching pair by takin' off too much of the red, but a little shape would make a world'a difference,"

Clover wasn't quite sure how she'd ended up sitting in the center of the floor, her rug rolled away to reveal hardwood that her toes twisted against while Lollie fetched a pair of scissors from her bedroom. The record player she'd brought back with her, among a menagerie of other items, rolled quietly as it found the groove, and then a familiar song from the disco decades began to play in the otherwise silent room. Gentle fingers combed through her ruffled hair, twisting it between them before tugging it to lay flat as Lollie fussed with the two-toned mess her hair had become as of late, unchanged since the initial, lively breakdown that had painted the strands the red and black mixture they'd retained in death. She'd not really paid much attention to her hair since the fateful night at Mimzy's, only noticing the mild irritation when it stuck to her face or was used as a handhold for the cruel caress of criminals. That wasn't to say she was unhappy with it, it was that she hadn't thought of it at all in light of recent events, and as Lollie continued to muse over the changes that could be made, she decided that apathy was perhaps worse than distaste.

"Shortening those bangs will make those big 'ol doe eyes of yours pop. Somewhere between Clara Bow and Bettie Page without gettin' too Helen Kane, dig?"

Something tightened in the pit of Clover's stomach at that, but she couldn't quite tell whether it was anticipation, or apprehension mixing with the odd sense of pride that came from being spoken to like she knew the subject matter without question. It reminded her of conversations past, the twist of intrigue when she'd mention something the more dated demons that she'd befriended since her fall would never expect her to know.

The feeling of knowing exactly what someone was speaking about was incredibly refreshing among the confusion of the day, but not the issue at hand, she had to remind herself.

"I don't know, it's a little…on the nose."

"You're the Radio Demon's lover, you might as well look the part. C'mon, it'll be fun!" Lollie crouched in front of her with a wide smile, drawing the lollipop she'd been talking around from between her lips as her voice dropped to a more earnest, eager tone. "Look, they're gonna talk anyway-"

It was a coin toss whether this would turn out well or not, and even though Clover was anything but a betting woman, the thrill of the game was too tempting to resist.

"Might as well give them something to talk about."

Lollie grinned at the coy agreement, bouncing to her feet with a momentum that almost proved dangerous for her decency. A towel became a makeshift capelet, Clover fiddling with it to make sure it hugged her shoulders tight enough to not allow any pesky hairs to slip beneath the wide neck of her t-shirt while her spontaneous stylist combed through dampened strands. It was quiet for a long moment, as it usually was when Clover dared to put the state of her person in another's hands. She'd never been good at the idle chit-chat such services required, her customer service persona was a fast-paced facade of cheerfulness that easily broke at the first sign of irritation, and the few times she did step out of her comfort zone and treated herself to stereotypical self-care were spent mostly in silence.

Luckily, like most of her friends, Lollie seemed to almost always have a hidden agenda upon barging into her personal space.

"So, tell me about the camera. From the beginning."

Clover blinked, the wicker chair creaking beneath her as she curled around the camera she'd clutched to her stomach. Her eyes fell to the phone that sat atop her comforter as a warning she'd nearly forgotten about flashed through her mind with its waving red banner. At her pause, Lollie leaned around from where she'd stopped to section out the shorter layers of Clover's hair and followed her gaze with a confused scowl. When the second set of rosy eyes fell upon the glistening dark red of her phone case, the hard twist of lips around the stick of her lollipop softened, and Lollie quickly moved to discard the device into the top drawer of her dresser, pulling the fuzzy pink charms of her own phone to tug it from where she'd tucked it into the waistband of flared loungewear before tossing it in as well. The knobs of her record player were twisted sharply, raising the volume to just above an acceptable point for conversation before Lollie returned to her work.

It wasn't a perfect solution, but it would do, so Clover kept her voice low as Lollie adjusted her chin position to her liking.

"You know most of it. I bought it in a pawn shop, I took a photo of Alastor, and then of Angel, and it didn't turn out right-"

"They show up human, I got it. But I took a photo of myself with it the day I met ya', and it was just my mint mug grinning back at me, so it ain't the camera, it's you honey. And I know this goes a little further than takin' a few raunchy pictures, so spill."

Lollie made the first cut, and the quivering anticipation that had twisted Clover's stomach into knots snapped between the shears.

"I… don't know how to explain it." The breath Clover had been holding as damp strands curled into her lap released with a soft sigh as she began the heavy task of explaining something that she herself had not quite come to understand. "I just- Know things, I guess. I talk to someone long enough, and then it's just there. I either see things about them, or I get a feeling, or I just- Accidentally blurt things out in conversation."

"Spooky."

"That's what everyone says- Well, except…"

"Except your sweetheart, who I'm guessin' gets the brunt of this little parlor trick of yours?"

"...Sometimes, but with him, it's- Different." Clover could already feel the burning spreading from the back of her neck at that simple statement alone, the guilt that she'd not yet told Alastor himself what she was now so easily admitting to Lollie attempting to crush her further into her chair, but she tried her best to remain sitting upright. "I see him, as he was when he was alive. It's not consistent, but sometimes we'll just be talking, or I'm just watching him, and suddenly there's a shift."

Lollie paused, the face-framing she'd been double-checking the evenness of curling against flushed cheeks as they slipped from between her fingers. Her lips wobbled as a soft sound of awe escaped between them and she looked down at the confused furrow of Clover's brow with an expression Clover could only describe as swooning. Attention-strained ears twitched as the record skipped slightly beside them, and the sound snapped Lollie from her sentimental stupor as she shattered her sucker between her teeth.

"Keep talkin', I'm listening."

"That's it. I think I've done it, the seeing people thing, with Angel like, once, but it was so fleeting I don't think it counts-"

"Everything counts, thinking about it that way won't help figure out the circumstances."

The gentle tap Lollie gave to her nose closed Clover's eyes, her glasses removed to allow her bangs to lay properly against her brow for even cutting. She squeezed her eyes into the darkness, turning it a deep red while she waited for the first snip with bated breath.

"I don't know how or why it happens, but he doesn't know." Clove sighed as the first clippings brushed past her chin, fighting the urge to flinch away from the feeling. "I've not been sure how to tell him, and if today is any indication, I'm worried about how he'd react."

"A man like that? I bet he'd love the attention."

"Only when it's the right kind, he doesn't like people invading his privacy. He was really upset about today."

Her head was tilted this way and that while Lollie seemed to think through the current situation, whether it be to digest what Clover had said or to carefully complete her impromptu makeover. The rustling of a wrapper twitched her ears forward from where they'd been laid back to keep out of the way, but before her eyes could open to find the source of the noise, Lollie was back to combing through Clover's fringe. When she spoke again, it was muffled in a way Clover had grown familiar with when it came from the candy coquette currently cutting her hair.

"Well, since this little problem with the television doesn't seem to be fixin' itself, and since your strawberry sweetheart seems to be on standby, we might as well see how far this little power of yours can go, you might need it."

Lollie hummed along to the song that played as she finished trimming Clover's bangs, the cold metal of shears that brushed her skin keeping Clover quiet for the time being. The idea sparked interest in the buzzing nervousness that had begun to numb her jaw, but she was still unsure. Would practicing only prove problematic? Feeding into this unfortunate gift she'd been granted in the grave could only cause it to spin further out of control; Or it could make it easier to control, if luck was willing. It was another gamble, and sadly, the men who she could turn to for betting advice were absent from the conversation.

"Done!"

Lollie announced her cosmetic completion with a small squeal, Clover's eyes fluttering open in the hope that she'd see the fruits of the demoness's labors. It quickly became obvious that Lollie had other plans, her eyes narrowing as she drew a fresh lollipop from between her lips. The neon blue candy coating dangled beside her as she leaned down into Clover's eye line.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours, and that's an offer I know you can't refuse."

Her sinful smile was sincere despite her daring word choice, soothing over her anxious mind like silk, and before she'd even fully registered what had been said, Clover agreed.

"I'll have to ask you questions."

Another shift of color across iridescent irises, and Lollie was bouncing back to her meager height with a sharp giggle that pierced the padding that had been laid over Clover's nerves, and her heart rate shot off like a rocket in response.

"I told ya' the first time we met, next time we meet you can ask all the questions you want and I'll answer 'em," Lollie said, Clover tilting her head back to watch as she zipped open a pink packet to reveal a set of rollers.

Taking already raw lips between her teeth, Clover chewed as she thought of her first question, and decided that asking the obvious was the most logical leap into this most likely lengthy conversation, if only to make way for more lucrative queries later.

"Why are you getting involved with this?"

"For fun, next question."

"Uh...Husker called you '70s on heels' the first time he saw you, was he right?"

"That cat noticed little 'ol me? I'm flattered." Lollie's voice dripped with something that was not-quite sarcasm, her smile leaning to one side around the stick of her sucker as she began to wrap the still-wet ends of Clover's hair. "He's right, I guess. You newbies tend to blur your decades together, so I usually flub the expiration date."

"You come off a little more late 60s to me, honestly. I think it's the boots."

"Look at you! No wonda' you get along with the old timers so well, you're like candy to those' vintage fellas." Carefully curling Clover's hair towards her face, Lollie ignored the defensive sputtering in favor of clarifying further. "I died in 1975, I'm guessin' that knowledge is important to workin' ya' magic."

"It is, it's one of the first things I found out about Alastor."

"And Ang'?"

Clover paused, thinking back on the forming friendship she's had with Angel Dust and all of its more meaningful moments, searching for anything that might have sparked her knack for naming.

"With Angel… I think it was just that we were friends, we spent a lot of time together, he told me about Valentino the night I- Well, I think part of it is because we bonded pretty quickly on some deeper subjects."

"You're a curious bunny, that ain't a surprise, n' you've got a way with talkin' with people. An honest way, that makes people feel like you're really listening, ya' know what I mean?"

"It's the ears."

"Hah! Go on, ask the next question."

Lollie snorted, blocking Clover's eyes from the blast of hairspray that set her now-shorter bangs into place, and Clover's self-satisfied smile widened as her absolutely dehydrated attempt at humor landed. In the shadows of the hand that had been pressed against her brow, Clover found herself lost in the lines that branch across pastel palms, following the deep crease that indents the soft padding just below her thumb down to where it splits just above the junction of her wrist. She focuses on those lines, and from them comes a question so simple she wonders why she'd never asked it before.

"Your name, it's a stage name, one you picked after death, but-" Clover stalls, pretending to hold her breath to fan away the cloud of hair spray that hangs in the air around her while she tries to think of a more graceful way to approach this question; There isn't one. "Why Lollie Pops?"

"Cause' I used to be a sucker."

The deadpan response sends her into a fit of giggles, one which is only amplified by the wrinkle of Lollie's nose and the tiny bit of blue-stained tongue that peeks out from between her lips. Ripping the makeshift capelet from Clover's shoulders as she crumbles with her own laughter, Lollie takes care to fold it so as not to drop too many trimmings onto the floor before hopping on slippered toes over the small pile of hair that had formed to shake it out the open window, as contradictory as those two motions may have been.

"Where did you live?" Clover asks through fleeting laughter, watching as Lollie pulls a roll of paper and a lighter from her bra before leaning out the open window to light it; The smell of marijuana blows back to her on the night's cool breeze as Lollie re-wraps her sucker and tucks it behind her ear.

"Lots'a places. Mostly New York, but I was born in Montreal, where my mom was from. We bounced around a little bit, the business is kinda' like that, ya know? But, we moved to California when I was 19, and that was home until my heart decided it was done with me."

"I don't know if you're being literal or not."

Lollie watched from beneath long lashes as Clover tried to digest what she's said, refusing to clarify in favor of blowing her smoke toward the open window. So, Clover has no choice but to lay that topic to rest for now, pun intended.

"Did you dance when you were alive? You mentioned show business, so when you say you moved from New York to California I assume you performed."

"I was, but nothin' as naughty as I do now, well- At least when I did it then we could sell it as being artistic, but some'a the stuff I did on the side was more creative than what my daddy would've liked."

"How old were you?"

"When I died? Older than you, and you know better than to ask a woman her age. Now-" Lollie pushed off from the windowsill, ashing her joint against the brick outside before setting it on Clover's nightstand with a wink that gave her the impression its position was purposeful. "No more questions, I wanna see what you can do without talkin'."

Pulling her out of her seat with a sharp tug before herding Clover to sit among the scattered supplies that littered her bedspread, Lollie swept the remaining hair under the rug with a few quick kicks of fuzzy slippers across the wooden floor. She looked up after re-rolling the crimson carpet over the cuttings, curving a brow in Clover's direction with a roll of her wrist that begged for further exploration. With a heavy sigh that sank her further into her comforter, Clover tried her best to focus on what Lollie had told her. The new knowledge sank and shifted among the other information she'd gathered of the woman in the minute amount of time they'd known each other, the image of her carefully changing records in front of her slowly shifting into something more; The rolling of an empty record in a darkened dressing room, the soft twist of hips beneath shiny silk, the light sound of laughter from a far-off and forgotten memory. She gripped the camera, still sitting heavily against her lap, to anchor her as she fell into the images that began to flicker like film on the blank backdrop of her inner dark room, her eyes closing against the bright light of the room to guard their development. A name, she could do a name, or at least, she'd done it before. She had all the pieces to the puzzle before her, a time, a place, a person; It should be all too simple to address the truth of the temptress before her. The longer the thought the more convoluted it became, the flashing flip book of feelings she'd come to relate to Lollie moving too fast for her to make sense of.

"Can I take a picture?"

Clover's question startled even her, and the clinking that had been coming from her closet slowed to a stop. She didn't dare open her eyes out of fear that she'd lose the swirl of color that Lollie's lifeless looks had become, just in case.

"Yes, but I don't wanna' see it."

Peeking open one eye, Clover blinks through the dampness that had begun to collect at the corners in her concentration, and for a moment, the dark wine of Lollie's flipping locks shifts copper in the light of her lamp. It's gone in the flash of the camera, but that moment of clarity is enough.

"Light. It has to do with light."

"You sure?"

"Your hair was ginger or a warm brown."

She can't see how Lollie reacts to the revelation as her eyes close again, Clover holding the printed photo between her fingers like a lifeline. Even if she can't see what begins to develop beneath the film, the knowledge that the truth is just out of her reach spurs her forward. The images in her mind begin to flicker again as she focuses on that second of sight, the color of copper filling her vision; A penny in an arcade Mutoscope. Eyes pressed to that metaphorical lens, Lollie's next question lights the picture from within.

"Why do we need a camera?"

"Why? I- I don't understand. I guess- To capture moments, to save them forever, to document the passage of time-"

"No, why do we need a camera? Why did you want to use it?"

"Because it's the only thing that's worked consistently."

A pause, a moment of uncertainty that ripples across the surface of her resolve and weakens her grasp on revelation, and then Lollie asks again.

"Tell me how a camera works."

"Uh- In simple terms, light refraction is captured through a lens and then pushed through to react with the capturing medium, either an electronic sensor or film. Some cameras use mirrors to help focus the light. There's also a pinhole camera, a camera obscura , which has a similar function but without the lens, just an incredibly small aperture. It creates a temporary reflection by focusing light rays. It's basically the same as how the-"

The explanation catches in her throat as that burning, antique copper that had painted the projection in her head catches, sparking like a lightbulb and burning deep into the crimson that blooms from the intensity of her squeezing as the solution slaps her with its simplicity.

"As an eye, a human eye."

Rustling paper pulls Clover's ears upright, twisting towards the source of the noise before the sharp smell of raspberry mixed with the earthy musk of marijuana blows across her cheek. Lollie's voice follows, soft but stern as gentle hands press against Clover's knee.

"Good, now the next words outta' your mouth better be my name, capeesh?"

Clover nods, dumbly, as she begins to fan the photograph needlessly between her fingers. The motion is technically useless, but the small tick she'd begun to develop helped to clear her mind of clutter, allowing her to ignore the scratching of stage fright that had begun to scrap against her chalkboard nerves. Lollie, her name is Lollie, is the phrase that repeats over and over, too crisp yet so unclear as it echoes in her mind. As her lips begin to form those words, they feel wrong, a lie that sours the sweetness of the girl beside her, and Clover's quick to correct the mistake with a sharp intake of breath.

"Bella, her names is Bella Ba-"

Stopping short as the name jumbles in her mouth, Clover feels the burn of embarrassment begin to attempt to rob her of breath. It turns the oxygen in her lungs to steam, heavy as it pours from between her lips and sticking to her mouth with its oppressive humidity. Wrong, that was wrong too, but why did she say it? Lollie's fingers tighten against her, holding her back from falling into the darkness of her own self-doubt.

"Stop doubting yourself, you were right." Lollie's voice breaks the ringing that had begun to fill Clover's ears, and with it comes clarity.

"Lobelia Plotnitsky."

Her eyes open, blinking away the fuzzy particles that dance across their surface before she focuses on Lollie sitting below her.

"Why do you have two names?"

Lollie's smile grows even wider at the question as the girl hops up from her crouched position, pale fingers coming together to snap in appreciative applause. Her question goes unanswered for a moment too long, and her gaze drops to the developed photo that she'd turned face-down between her palms at some point in her struggle. The temptation to look was too grand to ignore, but the parameters of the photographs capture kept her hands frozen in place as Lollie finally ceased her snapping and fell onto the bed beside her.

"Bella Baron was my stage name, it was a lot harder to get jobs with a last name like Plotnitsky."

As much as she wanted to press forward into that information, something else begs for her attention as Clover focuses on the dark backing to the polaroid clutched between her fingertips. In her mind's eye, she can see the woman currently sitting at her side, but not clearly. It's a blurred image, like badly developed film; Splintered with light leaks and underexposed. The damage inspires her to seek out another image, another bit of information that she'd recently been so graciously gifted. The video of the dance Lollie had shown her replays on that flickering screen of her subconscious as it had then, Clover ignoring the more revealing nature of the recording and instead focusing on the way her aerials and acrobatics had altered the world around her. That doubled quality stands out, the reflection of Lollie's form that follows behind her haunting all other images she attempts to conjure up of her candy-colored friend, and she can't help but wonder what it means.

"Why do I see two of you?"

Lollie blinks at the question, the hand that she'd been waving in front of Clover's face freezing as her smile falters, and Clover can't help but return her gaze to that splintering line that decorates her palm. The proud sparkle that had lightened her eyes dulls as Lollie leans back from her, letting them dart across the serious expression that had settled across Clover's face.

"...Think about it."

"I have, I don't understand. I saw it before when you showed me your dance, it's like watching fractals while high."

Flipped hair tilts with her as Lollie lets her head drop to one side, pouting around the stick of her sucker with a contemplative hum. Suddenly, she sits forward, pulling the lollipop from between her lips with a "Pop" before they press into Clover's cheek.

"Ya' know what helps me think?" Lollie speaks against the warmth of Clover's skin, her nose pressed into the hollow of her temple as she giggles. Clover's sputtering is silenced with a sudden sweetness against her tongue as Lollie takes advantage of her slack-jawed shock, shoving her sucker unceremoniously into Clover's mouth. "Sugar!"

Before she can rip the candy from her mouth to argue, color begins to swim around the corners of Clover's vision. It's hypnotic, the way the world turns around them as Lollie leans back into frame to wiggle her fingers in front of hazy eyes, revealing a blooming array of light that shifts around her skin as it splits off into a multitude of mirror images. A double exposure of the demoness draws her knees to her chest beside her, rocking back and forth in a way Clover assumes is purposeful by the way it seems to lull her deeper into that longing feeling of lucidity. Her fingers feel numb as she removes the sucker from her tongue, swallowing down the sweet elixir of syrup and saliva before she speaks.

"What is this?"

"The man upstairs thinks he's real funny, sending us sinners down here for a second chance and then slammin' us with special shit like this. You fuck up once, and then you're forced to face your mistake for the resta' your life, no matter how much you change." Lollie sighs, taking the candy from Clover's outstretched fingers before returning it to its proper place between her teeth. "It's a hallucination, mostly."

The answer is so obvious, Clover has to resist the urge to smack herself.

"You had a twin. You don't want to see the photograph because-" Clover stutters as she thinks back, wondering why this information feels so heavy against her heart until she recalls a night of friendly games and admissions of guilt, and suddenly, it all makes sense. "Because it will look like her."

Lollie nods, her eyes following the picture Clover has yet to uncover as it's tucked into the drawer of her bedside table, safe among her other secrets. It's quiet for a long moment as they listen to the song change, neither of them quite sure how to continue the conversation now that they've achieved the goal. Clover is torn, teetering on the precipice of further exploration but held back by the far-off, uncharacteristically sorrowful look that had crossed Lollie's face. It remains as the tiny demoness shifts further onto the bed, the mattress sinking in as she settles into removing the rollers from Clover's hair. Her fingers ruffle the fresh style, twisting strands around her fingers while the last remnants of the sugary spell she'd cast over the room fade away with a final mirage of mint skin. It was too relaxing, the gentle tingle of touch against her scalp alongside the happy humming that had picked up behind her, and Clover nearly dropped her camera when Lollie picked up the conversation once again.

"Your hair's cute, I'm not lettin' ya' run around ruinin' it with that leisurely shit you've been wearing- No offense. Plus, ya' can't give 'em a good show if you don't have the right costume."

"What?"

Lollie paid little mind to the dumbfounded expression that Clover regarded her with as she scrambled across the bed, straddling her lap for a moment before she swung herself off the other side and skipped towards her open closet.

"Ya' know, dress the part, bait 'em out! I thought you were into the movies, don'tcha know how the paparazzi works?"

"I prefer to be behind the camera."

What a thing to say after the day's events, she thought. Luckily, Lollie didn't dwell on it for very long.

"Sucks, sugar, cause there's no way you're gettin' out of the spotlight, not until something bigger than the Radio Demon gettin' a girl comes along." Lollie turned over her shoulder with that oddly adorable wrinkle creasing her nose, sending Clover a quick wink as she fell back into the poised, positive perfection. "Don't worry, things change fast down here and if I've got anything to do with it, you won't be the hot topic for long honey."

For the second time since they'd met, Lollie began to riffle through Clover's closet, pulling out her nicer pieces of clothing to examine before separating them into stacks atop her bed.

"What'cha like to wear? For a girl who's datin' a dapper dresser, you sure wear a lot of basics and band tees. But you've gots lotsa' cute stuff in here!"

"Depends on the day, really, I- Lollie, I don't see what this has to do with Vox."

"Nothin'! This is about you sweetheart, you're just too stupid to see it. Now-"

A stack of skirts was tossed onto the bed beside her as Lollie moved on to her dresser, sorting through the menagerie of leggings, sweats, and sleepwear in search of the nicer bits that were hidden among the casual comfortable clothing that she normally reached for when lounging around the hotel or when dashing to work in the early morning. While Lollie made quick work of creating what seemed to be a capsule wardrobe of the random assortment of apparel, Clover returned her attention to the now-developed snapshot of herself that lay forgotten on the bedspread beside her. The photograph had come out as intended, her features blurred into inexistence by the bloom of the camera's flash, leaving only the vague shape of her once-overgrown bob and slouching shoulders to recognize her underneath the polaroid plastic coating. Now that she looks at it, something feels like it's missing from her spiteful spur-of-the-moment snapshot, something that makes it seem so artificial compared to the honest image of Lollie she'd supposedly captured from the same roll of film, but her train of thought is interrupted again as Lollie sweeps up the stack of wear-worthy pieces into her arms with a wide smile before neatly replacing them into the closet's center.

"If anyone is gonna' get Alastor to break, it ain't gonna be Vox, it's gonna be you. It's time you go on the offensive."

"I can't, we're under enough stress as it is, I don't think that pushing him will help- Hell, it may be just what he needs to decide this isn't worth-"

"Hey! What's with all the doom and gloom? That man was pacing the floor downstairs when I walked in, ya' think he'd still be here if this was that close to over?" Lollie snaps, but her expression softens as Clover flinches away from the sudden outburst. Gentle fingers flick affectionately against her chin, and Lollie lowers her voice back down to its pleasant melodic purr. "You can, and you already are. I know you're blind when it comes to your own sex appeal suga', but that man isn't."

"Alastor isn't like that."

"But he likes you. I've seen you wrap that man around your finger and leave him hangin' there, you can't fool me with that blase bullshit."

Clover once again weighs her options while staring up at this whirlwind of womanly wiles that had decided to insert herself into Clover's love life, watching as passionate pink eyes widened excitedly at the first sign of agreement that escaped her. The decided sigh shifts into a soft squeak as Lollie leaps onto the bed beside her, bouncing on the pillowtop before sweeping Clover up into a hug that one could certainly describe as bone-crushing. A new concern comes to light as her face buries into the soft crook of the other girl's neck, but she pushes it down in favor of the comfort that this newfound companionship brings her. As much as there was still left to learn about Lollie, there was much more to be said about the good she'd done for Clover and those she cared for than could be said about the risk of the chaos she'd chosen to commit to.

"Do you want to help me plan the Halloween party? I still need to pick the music, but I think my tastes are a little- Specific."

Their position muffles Clover's question, but she can feel Lollie nod against her shoulder before breaking away from their embrace. That sparkle is back in her eye as Lollie falls back against her bed, relishing in the way she bounces against it as her smile widens.

"A party, huh? Sounds like the perfect opportunity to use that publicity you've got to do some good. I'll do whateva' you say suga', just let me know how I can help."

Clover slips off the bed and quickly crosses the carpet to her dresser, sliding open the top drawer and retrieving both of their phones before slowing the record to a stop. She can feel the interested gaze that follows after her as she finally turns her attention to the mirror, as well as the fluttering wings of butterflies that take flight in her stomach as she takes in the change. As promised, she'd lost very little length despite the amount of crimson that had collected on the floor, and gained structure instead. The most notable change sat just shy of her brows, her bangs now noticeably shorter as they curled against her forehead, and the addition of her glasses just amplifies the effect. It's striking how so little can do so much, and the longer she looks at herself, the more obvious the reality of her new look becomes;

Clover was exactly the kind of woman one would expect to be standing beside Alastor, and now, even she wasn't able to argue against it.

"Well, for starters-"

The freshly cut curls that frame her face swings as she spins around, unable to stop the wide smile that splits her somber mask as Clover quickly opens her phone's camera feature. Leaning over the lounging demoness, Clover grabs the discarded self-portrait polaroid before passing Lollie her phone with a smile so self-satisfied she thought it might even put Alastor's to shame.

"I need you to help me take a picture."