The last of the dye drifts out of Jackie's hair, leaving it a rich chestnut brown. and no longer standing up stiff as the gel has also vanished. She doesn't even notice that the water is not stained by the colouring. Her lewd display gets no reaction from unseen watchers and about as much from her companions, but does give Jackie herself a surprise... One of the things she has has regretted most in her life, not that she really had any choice, but the victim of a rape will often wonder if there was anything they could have done differently that might have prevented it happening... But that painful tearing of a little fold of skin, so long ago now, has been undone. Her fingers encounter a tightness and resistance, and as soon as she realises what it is, she stops, sitting up in amazement. It's physically as if it never happened.<br/><br/>Cautiously she probed her memory of the<i>event </i>and it still hurts. The memory is still there, the psychological trauma that she really would rather<i>not </i>remember. And so is the anger. But the guilt, the irrational feeling that it was somehow<i>her</i>fault, that has gone. She knows with absolute clarity and certainty who was to blame. and the knowledge that as of two weeks ago that person will never hurt anyone ever again, is now somehow even more satisfying. "A dish best served cold..." She mutters.<br/><br/>The maudlin and rather gross tattoos on the insides of both wrists are part of her therapy and she gazes at the inked representation of cut flesh and blood flowing onto her palms. The sight of her fake suicide has the usual calming effect on her jangled nerves. Originally as a reminder that suicide was not an option, it has come to be almost an act of meditation for her.<br/><br/>"Hmph... Why do fingertips go fuckin' wrinkly in the fuckin' bath?" She asks this of the Universe in general, not expecting an answer, and hauls herself out of the water, before the rest of her starts to wrinkle up. "Hey, Blondie, you okay there? Heh. Blondie, I guess that make me Angel Eyes, an' her Tuco?" She nods towards the brunette who is suddenly a redhead. "Fuuuuuck! Hey, Red? May, wasn't it? Dayum, girl, if I 'ad your fuckin 'air colour I'd wanna show it off not fuckin 'ide it! Whatcha got in there?"<br/><br/>Jackie peeps into the room, shrugs and walks to the next door. That's more like it. The previous room, that May was looking into, to Jackie, looked stark and empty. This room, however, had dark blue carpet on the floor, and a really cool sunset motif painted on the walls and ceiling. Light was coming from somewhere but she didn't bother to look for where, as long as it didn't go out on her.<br/><br/>A vanity unit with a mirror, make up, hair products and jewellery that was just her style stood against one wall, next to a walk-in closet that had jeans, tee shirts, jackets, biker leathers, and even a helmet. A drawer under the vanity unit held underwear, all in styles and colours she liked and there were boots on the floor of the closet. "Oh yeah, cool!" she grinned and took the time to dress herself and re-do her mohawk. She smirked and just dribbled a tiny bit of bleach into the very tips. giving the chestnut coloured ruff a rim the colour of white chocolate.<br/><br/>"Lookin' good, girl! Lookin'<i>fuckin' </i>good!"