Bixbyite was sitting alone in the hotel room she’d rented out for a few days. A large mirror was hung on the wall at the head of the bed and she couldn’t stop staring at her shorn hair. For some reason, she’d half expected to see her hair grow back when she’d transformed, but it hadn’t. It was still the same, spiky mess it was when she’d chopped it off the night she’d left home. With a small sigh, she transformed back to her everyday self and closed aquamarine eyes in thought. Even with it so short, her hair was still somewhat recognizable with it’s pale blonde streaked with rainbow dye job. So, first order of business: fix up her hair and dye it anew. Fortunately, she’d managed to get to the bank the morning after she’d run away. All it had taken was a flash of her ID and they’d let her close out her savings account.

And even more fortunately, her savings account had held a couple thousand dollars inside, the result of saving since she’d been a little kid mixed with good interest rates and a thrifty nature that would have done Scrooge proud. Part of that money had paid for this room until she could decide on a definitive course of action. And another part of that money had gone towards the purchase of several hair dye kits, a pair of salon scissors and some appropriate winter clothing.

So so so. Now that she had a plan of sorts, Alairi bounced from the bed and went to work. First things first. She had to fix her hair. Grabbing her scissors, she went into the bathroom and narrowed her eyes as she studied herself. She’d leave the back short and spiky for certain. The front? Well... She’d just have to try her best to cut it into something decent.

An hour of careful cutting later, Alairi pronounced herself pleased with her new hairstyle. Short in the back with longer bangs in front. It was reasonably attractive and just different enough that people who knew her would hopefully not recognize her. Now to dye, she thought as she padded from the bathroom to snatch of three dye kits. She’d end up looking like a demented peacock, but that was all right. It was different. Right now, different was GOOD. Besides, this was partly for her family’s sake. For them, she’d be a demented peacock if need demanded it. And until she could sort out her feelings towards her Queen and the terrifying General-Queens and King, need was definitely demanding it.

“Bleach first,” she muttered to herself as she gloved up and starting mixing chemicals. This was going to take a while. But since it wasn’t like she had any place to go, time wasn’t really something that mattered.

“Right,” she said to her reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Let’s do this thing.”