The Cosmos, The Arrivals, Book 1, Chapter 3, Babs Anticipates Tiffany, Robyn & Steph: Roommates, Day 1, Section 2, Babs: D*ce & the Makeup Case.

Boss Babe squeezes herself tighter into the chair. Hard to do when it doesn’t have any arms, but BB squeezes her arms to her sides, interlaces her fingers, squeezes her thighs together, and crosses her ankles. Aligns her upper and lower teeth. Holds the position and looks around by only moving her head. She observes the desk’s only drawer, breaks into a more relaxed posture, and carefully pulls it open.

“Ah, the Makeup Case!” Boss Babe realizes, looks harder and sees, “D*ce.” Also spoken out loud. And a third item, an Alabaster Flask.

She takes these items out and lays them in front of her on the desk.

“So,” Boss Babe declares to these three objects, “Gamers give me three Props!”

May Kundalini be cheered.

BB knows the Case contains makeup of near infinite resource and colors, glitter, adhesives, stains, markers, perfumes, and substances which if misapplied might cause the skin to feel heat or cold or rash up.

Boss Babe accepts the Makeup Case with the passing of pride that accompanies an officer turning over a command in the military. Except this is the Cosmos House and I am at School. And Steph never “turned over command” to me. She got broken and is a Pledge now. A Cosmos House Pledge. My Pledge. One of seven.

Babs cradles the Makeup Case and rattles the D*ce. Babs has every reason to be proud of her achievements. And she is wise to be mindful of them and the dangers they present. She knows better than to remove the stopper on the Flask.

As for the Makeup Case, Bikini Babe just when through a Term when the Makeup Case got used upon her. Correction, Bikini Babe begged for Makeup. Sometimes it got misapplied. Sometimes applied beautifully. Like now.

What happened last Term happened last Term. Babs fidgets. Yet some of that matters. Momentum lingers. BB turns to the Case, lays fingers on both side of it, and speaks to it. “All things considered, right now I’m the one holding you!”

She opens it up. The flash of her areolage as the lid’s mirror pivots upward startles her. “Whoa!” Bikini Babe steadies herself. She leans forward and carefully frames her face in the mirror. Maintain posture! she says to herself.

Babs studies her makeup. She sees a sturdy face meticulously made up with the regality of a Mediterranean queen. Bright red lips outlined with narrow bl*ck lip liner. Rouge provides the subtlest flush. Eyes the color of bl*ck pearls sparkle in a cascade of detail: brow-liner perfectly forms the eyebrows; mascara adds finish to already long bl*ck eyelashes; deep crimson eyeliner follows the rims of her eyes; and deep red eye-shadow dusted with powdered gold colorizes her lids.

BB closes the Case with an authoritative snap, puts it back into the drawer, and considers the D*ce. She considers the Bikini Babe downstairs in the Dining Room hanging hair. BB pats the D*ce and puts them in the drawer. “You are mine now,” she says to them. “My Game to c*ll.”

BB closes the drawer and thinks about what to do next. Organize my short list? Review the Manifest? Inspect the Bunkroom and Bathroom? Make sure the Screens work?

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