[Death by Mirrors]

Munching on the other half of the herb, Emery grimaced. "Damned if I know!" She didn't care she was speaking with a full mouth, after all proper manners weren't exactly the highest on her priority list when waking up in a foreign place with nothing but a hangover and some preppy gem to keep her company. "I bet you always were one of the popular girls." It came out more sarcastic than intended, and she stared at the ground for a moment, strands of black hair covering her face. She tried to tuck them back, but it was a really stupid length right now. Nothing she'd have ever chosen by herself.
"Tali. Sorry." Emery gave up on her hair and inspected Krystalina's outfit again. It hadn't seemed worth a second thought before, just the usual sexy-but-not-too-slutty style she'd seen many others sport when hitting the bars. But now the pain was already fading, even though that dried twig tasted bitter like a donkey's breath. Every little detail could help figure out what the fuck had happened for both of them to end up here. And how to escape.
"Guess sick weirdo who brought us to this luxury retreat decided to give us a makeover." Once again she tried to push her hair behind the ears, but then just grunted and grabbed a strand. "Cut my locks and dressed you up. I think you got the worse deal."