[And Johanna hates it, and she knows how much they all hate it, save for a select few freaks. Johanna doesn't go home triumphantly or glittering. She goes home with head defiantly held high and a dead look in her eyes to balance it out.]

I should have. I thought she was going to pass out from the lack of foliage. God forbid I look reasonable. Ever.

[There's a slight pause, followed by a chuckle that almost sounds sincere.]

Your eyelashes? Seriously?

[Johanna reaches out, uninvited, and tries to somewhat delicately run a finger over the very end of the false lashes.] What the hell. Not that I haven't had worse. I had giant feathers last year.