Somewhat satisfied with the turnout of her makeup, Rogue tested the heat of the curler with a cautious fingertip. Yup, reading for curling. Waving her fingers in the air, lacquered "Wrath", which really looked like dark purple, she picked up the cylindrical pink and metal torture device and brought it to the rust coloured lock of long hair she'd selected as her first appendage of experiment. Clamping the lock within the metal claw of the curling iron, she twisted it down to her scalp.

Looking in the bathroom to more carefully examine the masterpiece she'd created with makeup and glitter on her face. Was that a zit? Pushing her face into the mirror for closer inspection, one hand still held up to keep the curler in place. No, just a clumped bit of blusher.

The vanity was a literal warfield of cosmetics drafted from her local Walgreens. The bodies of black eyeliner, mascaras in three different colours and formulas, six lipsticks that had been on clearance, three plastic tubes filled with fine body glitter: one in blue, pink and silver spilled across the porcelain of the sink top like sparkly blood. The bottle that the nail polish had been in had been knocked over and was blemishing the counter with purple liquidy goo. She made a mental note to get Kitty's nail polish remover before Jean and her infallible annoyance witnessed the destruction that had occurred in Rogue's bathroom. The casualties of her little dabbling with a makeover had resulted in something that looked rather nice.

Dogwood green eyes carefully lined in kohl, silver glitter duster her eyes and had drifted down to the apples of her cheeks, filtered through torturously applied mascara. Cupid lips were rouged and glossy, pale skin shone like a beacon under the vanity lights. A smile pulled across tiny and sharp little teeth, free of lipstick due to a trick picked up from Kitty, consisting of inserting your index finger into your mouth to remove excess waxy colour.

Yup. She looked damn good.

Was that smoke?

Oh fuck.

Rogue swatted furiously at her hair as the singed lump of hair fell to the tile floor along with the curler. Rogue continued to scream as she frantically tried to put the small fire on her head out.

Next thing she knew, Logan was barreling through the door and her head was underwater.

Ripping her head away from Logan's hands, who apparently was intent on drowning her.

"Are you alright, kid?" he asked, seemingly worried.

"You put my fucking head in the toilet!"

"Your damned head was on fire."

"Haven't you ever head of smother? You smother the fire, not put my god damned head in a disease ridden potty!"

"I reacted before thinking, your *head* was on *fire*." He was now pissed and yelling too.

"Yeah, well, if I get some weird potty disease and die, I'm coming back and haunting your dumb ass!"

With that, Rogue stomped away in all her soggy glory, ripping the curler cord out of the socket as she passed, leaving a dumb struck Logan in her wake, watching her ass as she retreated.