All 17.1 - Hair Styling

"Virgil?" Victor called out as he stepped onto the ship. The gods of law had placed the group at the base of the towering shrine in front of their boat, and the man hadn't wasted time reboarding to check on his son. 
"Ya!" a young voice called, halfway between a cheer and a response. There was some thumping of footsteps as the child ran from the common room towards the ladder that led up to the second floor entrance where his father was. "What happened!? Whatda find?! Did'ja meet gods?! Are they gonna help?!" Virgil shouted questions almost as quickly as he shot himself up the ladder. "What was..." when he got to the top, he paused, blinked, then began to giggle.
Confusion on his face, Victor stopped and looked. "What?"
Virgil pointed at him, snickering, "What didja do to your hair?"
Sighing resignedly, he pulled a piece of his bangs forward to look at it. "I don't know, I guess it's..."
"Ok, old man, this way, hurry up," Lucca cut him off. "Downstairs," he added, pushing Victor along. 
"What?" he tried to get an explaination as the druid practically shoved him down the ladder.
"Move your feet, not your mouth!" Lucca shot back, hopping down after him and immediately catching him by the wrist and making a beeline for the room claimed by Cohen, calling to Virgil, "Sorry, squirt! Gotta steal your dad for a bit; we got awesome stories for ya though, soon as we're done!"
"Awww..." Virgil moaned, hanging over the lip of the access hatch, watching them depart. As he sat back up, his attention was captured by the tall, stoat-like woman who hadn't been with the group when they left. "Hi!" he greeted her cheerily.
Lucca dragged Victor bodily into Cohen's room. "Doc, we're using your room, not touching your stuff! Hang out somewhere else!" Lucca called out to the rest of the ship before closing the door behind him.
"Dare I ask what's going on?" Victor said with some trepidation. 
There was no answer as the druid dropped his backpack on the floor and rooted around in it, eventually fishing out a brush. As he stood up and proffered the brush to the other man, he fixed him with a pointed, purse-lipped stare and dispelled his shift. The sight that greeted Victor spoke for itself; the changeling's prodigious black tresses were a hopelessly tangled mess, bedecked with an array of plant matter and a liberal dusting of sand. With a small, frustrated huff Lucca brandished brush at him impaitiently.
Victor frowned concernedly, "...What in Riast's name were you doing?" Taking the brush, he walked behind the druid, surveying the devestation. Giving it a few investigative tugs and pokes, he shook his head, "It's full of dirt, we're going to have to wash it somehow. It looks like you went to the beach and decided to dive in the sand after swimming." 
"Went to a swamp and decided to faint in a desert, after swimming. And then get dragged by a bunny, through said desert." The druid corrected wryly, "Also, mountain climbing and bushwhacking, 'cause why not?"
Victor walked around in front of him again, "Do you want to have a shower and see if you can rinse it out, or do you want me to try to wash it by hand? There seems to be a sink in here..." he contemplated. 
He considered the question for a moment before answering with an ambivalent sigh and shake of his head, "I don't even know, I could try? No guarantees I can get it all out though; it's enough of a bitch on an average day." He shrugged.
"Well, I suggest an attempt, at the very least," Victor said, handing him back the brush. "There's little sense in me working through it with this amount of...debris. Get as much of the filth out as you can, then I will straighten out the rest." He tilted his head slightly, "...Are you alright? It mustn't have been your choice to be tried with your hair down."
A look of dismay flitted across the druid's face and he closed his eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath before replying, "I...guess so. I'll live. Gonna have to talk to Cheko later, though; scared the shit out of her...thank the spirits it was just her there with me..." He rubbed at his face, then suddenly looked up at Victor searchingly, glancing at his hair with a look of faint unease, "What about you?"
"I'm fine." He gave a wry, humourless smile, "Give me an hour alone with my thoughts, and I'm sure I'll find something." Softening, he added, "I'm glad though. I'm sure Cheko will be fine. This is, after all, the woman who legitimately believes that elves, orcs, gnolls and tengu are all humans. If she dragged you unconscious through a desert, I'm sure her opinion of you hasn't changed." He folded his hands behind him, "You should go wash your hair. Should I wait here and make sure your claim on the doctor's room isn't lost?"
Nodding, Lucca shifted back to his customary form and made for the door, "That would be appreciated, yeah. I'll try not to be long."
"Good luck," Victor added dryly as Lucca left the room.
----
After a brief, thorough and utterly frustrating shower, Lucca returned to the doctor's room, noting idly that Cohen had apparently fallen asleep on the common room couch. Entering, he found Victor sitting in the room's sole chair, staring off into the air. His attention snapped back at the sound, and he swiveled about to regard Lucca. "Alright, let's see what you managed," he said, standing up. He picked up his bag from the floor and pulled out a few items, including some towels, a brush and the folding chair he kept with him. He gestured for Lucca to sit.
Taking care to lock the door, the druid made his way to the middle of the room and plopped down crosslegged. "I think I got most of the crap out of it, but if anything it's messed up worse than before," he grumbled, unshifting once more and tossing the damp tangles over his shoulders.
Picking at the knots and surveying the mess, he adjusted his chair and sat down. "I'm sure it's salvagable, but it's going to take a while. Be glad I had some oil with me. Though I suppose we might be able to coax the kitchen to make us more, if it comes down to it." Taking a small section, he began the arduous process of untangling the lengthy mass of hair, working softly, deftly and silently. 
There was a long period of weighty silence before Lucca finally spoke up, his tone gently probing, "Alright, geezer, spill. You're doing that thing again." He turned his head slightly to look at the other man out of the corner of his eye, "Whatcha thinkin' about?"
Victor continued to pick at the knots in silence. He let another minute pass before he asked thoughtfully, "Could you ask the harlequin fey, exactly how common are ascendants?"
Lucca blinked, "Yeah, sure." and relayed the question to the fey, his eyes unconciously drifting to the mask as he did so.
Not. Harlequin replied. From what I know? Maybe one every hundred years or two. I think sometimes they show up in groups, if you guys are any indication. It's pretty random. He laughed, I was hoping the gods would ascend like, one or two of you. But *all* of you? Especially the ones that they obviously didn't like: the elf, the split-soul, the wizard, Caity-pie and Omulde? If they had been legit, they really should've only ascended, who, you, the rabbit and the doc? Maybe the devil, if they were generous, but hey, he apparently already had a backer, who knew? The others really didn't have it in the bag, you know? These All things must have 'em really freaked out, that they lowered the bar low enough for the bard and the elf to jump over; even I can tell they've got too much chaos in 'em. Heh heh, and you know they wanted to tell Omulde to get bent, he's a Virtue groupie, but they didn't. He giggled a bit before composing himself, Whatever. If this gets my haunts back in working order again, what do I care if they throw balance out of whack? They're the gods of law, that's their problem. When this is done and the All are good and fucked off, then Chaos can have a field day in the aftermath of so many ascendants fuckin' about with the fabric of Materia. Good on it.
Hmm, that's....comforting. Greaaat. He replied sarcastically before saying out loud, "He says they're really not. Like, one person every hundred or so years is the norm, or an occasional group. Apparently it was mad whack that they passed all of us, but I kinda figured." He tilted his head back slightly to look at Victor as he continued, "You musta been one hell of a badass though, eh? If someone already did it?"
Victor pursed his lips, but maintained his gaze firmly on his task. "I wonder...what exactly one has to do, to be ascended by the god of evil."
Oh maaaan, he probably killed soooo many people, Harlequin added, his voice still mocking Lucca's.
Shut the fuck up! If you're gonna start being a jackass about shit like this I swear to the spirits I will jam you in the bag of holding or something and forget about you! Lucca's gaze whipped back to the mask with an  faint audible growl as he shot the thought at the fey. He composed himself with a small huff, "I dunno, man, but I doubt it could have been that bad. I mean, that one dude, the old guy went to check it out and seemed to think you were an alright dude, yeah? And they let you have the powers or whatever back, too. You worry too much, old man."
Jackass? How am I being a jackass? I'm excited! The glee was apparent in Harlequin's voice as he continued. I only brought him because I knew he was a surly motherfucker that had the balls to threaten me, and made me think for a second he'd be good for it. So, when it turns out he's not only actually a fuckin' devil, but some kind of fucking ascended hell-lord? Who is completely committed to fixing my problem? I feel bad for the All. Pretty good for me though. Ooh ooh! And the best part is, now I've got a player with two lives! He dies, he pops back to Hell, and just maaaaaaaaybe cares enough to come back and keep working, 'cept this time as a super-powerful murder fiend that can't be killed. I wouldn't bank on it, it's a longshot that a devil would give a rat's ass about Materia, but the guy oozes law, so it's not a total sucker bet. So yeah! Feelin' pre-tty good right now.
Shuuuuut uuuuuup! I am not interested in listening to your gloating bullshit right now. Lucca rubbed at his face, Keep it up and I will jam you in the fuckin' bag. Don't think for a second I wont.
Victor smirked. "Those were manifests of law, I doubt they care if I'm an 'alright dude'. If he went to check on me, it was to confirm that whoever is under this spell is still committed to law before they tore a hole in it. That they...returned part of my power to me, I suppose would be the correct term, just means that they were confident that I'd still fulfill their goals for them. That's not the point though." He fiddled gently with a rather copious knot for a moment. "If ascendents are rare, this being an exception because of the threat of the All, then only people of extreme worth are granted power. What did I do, who am I, to have recieved that power from the manifestation of evil? Obviously I had reason, if I'm still a creature of law, but if it satisfied the god of sin so much that he granted me acension, it certainly wasn't 'alright'."
"I don't know, man...I'm still positive it couldn't have been anything that bad. You always think the worst about these kinda things. But either way, you're you right now. Ain't got a clue what devil-you mighta done, but you're a pretty decent guy, gonna go save the world, which is an awesome thing to do by anyone's book...so think on that rather than something at a. we don't know the answer to and b. have no way of figuring out." He snorted, "I mean fuck! Knowing you? You probably like...did some nasty shit to, like, save a basket of kittens. Or an orphanage. Or both."
Meheh. Decent. I don't think that means what you think that means. Harlequin was apparently still not done with his commentary. Omulde is *decent*. The bunny is *decent*. This guy is faaaaaar from decent and alright. No matter how many words you use wrong. I love it. Morality is for scrubs. Keep it up.
"Or I committed genocide against a people who offended me," Victor said dryly. "I don't honestly see that being outside of my range."
Ooh, that would be good. Do it again, devil-lord! Smite my enemies! Destroy the All for their insolence!
"For fuck's sake!" Victor flinched back as Lucca suddenly shouted, jumped to his feet and began untying his belt. You know what? Maybe I define shit differently than you do, dickface. And you know what else? It's bag time for asshole fey who don't know when to shut their fucking pie-holes.
Weee, bag time! Harlequin cheered mockingly, unfazed. Let him know while I'm out that his legendarily icy and vicious nature won't go unappreciated.
Fuck off for a bit! Yanking the mask off his belt, he stormed over to his bag and lobbed it in. He stood glowering fiercely at it for a long moment before looking to Victor, "I'm sorry. He's been acting up all day, and I'm beyond fucking done with it." He returned to his spot on the floor, "He bitched the whole way up the tree, then threatened me, now is chirping you...fucking fey." He heaved a sigh, "Anyway, I kinda doubt you did, but say that was the case? So what? I mean, shitty, sure, but what good is it gonna do you to ruminate on it? What will it change?"
"Nothing at all, I'm sure, least of all me." Victor snorted and made a muted grin, "And what are the harlequin's undoubtedly insightful opinions on the matter?"
"Nothing helpful. He's just stoked that you're a more badass devil than he thought, and therefore an even better choice for fucking up the 'All' than he'd anticipated." Lucca made a face, "Naturally he has to be as much of a prick as possible about how he's saying it, 'cause he's the harlequin. But nevermind."
"He's not satisfied until someone has left more unsettled then they were before," he replied calmly. "Was he trying to feed off of you again? Does he need to be spoken to?" 
"Eeehhh," the druid shrugged and leaned back as he thought on it for a moment, "Nah, I think I've got a handle on it, it's cool. Don't worry about it."
"Alright then." With that, Victor continued his lengthy task in silence. 
----
Finally, after many arduous knots and tats, Victor managed to bring a brush through all of Lucca's copious and damp tresses without any snares. "There," Victor said with an air of finality. "Back to its former glory. Try not to drag it through the dirt again."
"Mmmmmmh?" The changeling raised his head from a contented half-doze, tilting it back to look at him, "Can't make no promises, old man, but I'll try," he said with a lazy smile, adding, "Thank you for fixin' it. I really appreciate it; was driving me kinda nuts."
"I'd imagine," he said, standing up and stretching. "It's no bother to me though." Taking a piece of his own bangs, he looked at it with derision, "I can't decide if this is worth doing anything with."
Turning, Lucca folded his arms across his chest and considered him for a long moment before saying, "Yeah I dunno...it's weird. Like, it looks pretty okay, it's not bad...it's just kinda bizarre." He tilted his head, twisting his lips slightly as he continued to study Victor's hair, "What are you thinking you'd do with it? Dye it black again?" he asked, his tone dubious.
"I suppose..." he replied as he rubbed it between his fingers. "It seems like a lot of effort for vanity's sake. At the same time, I dislike the word 'bizarre' being used as an adjective for my looks." He reached up and undid the tie that kept his hair back, pulling around more of it to look at. "I haven't actually gotten to a mirror yet; are my eyebrows white too?"
"Aww, no! Thats not what I meant at all!" Lucca said, climbing to his feet, "It's just such a big, sudden change, ya know?You don't look bizarre, just different." Standing on tiptoe, he reached up and began fussing with the older man's hair, continuing as he rearranged it around his face, "Yup, they sure are. Whole deal went white. It's funny, it's like they insta-geezered the colour, but it's still soft and healthy seeming." Finishing, he dropped back down and folded his arms once more, adding firmly after another moment of study, "I don't think black is the answer. If you dye it, the easiest way to go is doing it all black...but you haven't had pure black hair since....ever, really. It'd look kinda funny as well, without the silver. And the roots would be ridiculous when it grew in, so you'd always be having to fix them. I wouldn't bother; I think you can rock this just fine, it'll just take some gettin' used to."
"I suppose..." he considered it for a moment, then made a wincing face. "Having black hair with white roots would look far too much like a skunk for my tastes." Sighing, he tied his hair back loosely again. "Why white, is the question. I can't even think of a type of devil with white hair. Assuming that I am a devil that has hair to begin with." He exhaled sharply, "It couldn't have been a colour? It's better than, I don't know, blue, but frankly, it's probably making me look washed out, and the world didn't need another excuse to call me 'old man'." Sighing once more, he finished, "I suppose it will just be something for Virgil to poke at for a bit, then I'll forget about it."
"Psssssh, ya look fine, you big diva!" He said with a laugh, "And pretty sure the world hasn't been calling you 'old man'. Just me, and I ain't big enough to qualify as a world. And I never needed an excuse in the first place." He stuck out his tongue, then added, "Speaking of Virgil, we should go catch that little monkey. He'll be missing you, and I promised awesome stories." As he spoke, he began shifting back to his usual form.
With a muted half-grin, Victor replied, "I'm surprised he didn't run in." Putting away his things and walking to the door, he added, "He must have cornered someone else."
Category:Advent of the All