"Perhaps I should have gone to a barber," Lionel mumbled to himself as he used the shears to cut his hair. He frowned as he ran his fingers through it. It was not something he could even call "average". When he last had his hair cut, Felicia had done it for him -- using the same shears he held in his hand now -- then left him the tool to do it again for himself later.
"It may even be more reasonable to shave all of my hair off," he muttered as he laid the shears on the water basin, glancing to the metal razor which he had used to shave off the strange creature -- his beard -- which had attached itself to his chin. It had not been anything he was proud of, though he had seen his father on more than one occasion being forced into the water basin to shave by his Master -- his teacher of magic – Mischa.
He looked up to the mirror and pulled his hair back, flattening it with his hands. As he did, one hair managed to wiggle its way free -- the one strange cowlick that he couldn't seem to keep under control. No matter what he did, whether it be oils or even magic, that one single tuft hair would find itself back in its strange, flippy curl within moments. Then he glared at himself, ice blue eyes meeting ice blue before he slowly looked at the cursed cowlick.
"Oh, yes," he sighed in defeat. "This thing. If I were to cut all of it, I will look so terribly strange because of this thing."
He began to rearrange his hair, pulling the greater part of the fringe to the left in an attempt to make the cowlick look more like a stylistic choice. He then turned his head, eyeing himself in the mirror. He had missed parts of his neck in shaving, his hair was a mess, and he looked tired -- with dark circles under his eyes, though his spectacles were doing a good job of hiding them beneath the bulky black, wooden frame.
Defeated, he brushed his shoulders off with a wet towel and then moved to his bedroom. He dressed himself, pulled a hat over his head, and grabbed his coin purse from a small drawer in his desk. His 'stash', that he intended to hide even from himself. When one keeps their money in a single place, under the intent to keep it from themselves, it seems to be that they tend to use it more often. With that, he headed out into Efryion, down the long dirt road riddled with wildflowers.
His master had chosen this location, she had said, to keep people away. They had used magic to ward the location, which hid the house from plain view from a certain distance -- until one got closer, and was generally unnoticeable unless one had learned about wards and their detection. He could also tell if someone was approaching, thanks to the wards.
The reason for all the trouble was to prevent people finding them easily, for in Efryion, and all of the country of Elysia, "long eared" folk were not appreciated. Even he, with his only slightly pointed ears, had trouble purchasing necessities such as food and firewood in the market at times. He never understood why she had chosen Efryion, or why they continued to stay there despite the blatant racism against "ears" that was harbored in the hearts of the citizens and ruling family in Elysia. Tellis, honestly, would have been a safer choice. There were many places they could have gone in Genia or Lunaria, if she was so set against being somewhere that was not Talaria.
Even with that being the case, Lionel never found himself unhappy with his situation in Elysia. Rather, after travelling across the continent to Talaria he found that no matter where he was he didn't exactly seem to fit in. Even in Talaria, there was a sense of segregation among those who considered themselves "pureblood" and those who weren't considered "pureblood". He wasn't entirely sure what they meant by pureblood, and either way -- with his Elysian father -- he wasn't someone who could be considered "pureblood" in either country. In fact, if he wanted to live in a place without segregation and racism, Genia may be his best bet.
Genia, a humid and hot country beyond the southern desert and jungles, was home to more pointy-eared kin. All in all, he was not sure what made Genians different from Latarians, but he considered them all human. In Genia, a mix of many people from other countries gathered for the same academy he had desired to go to.
Despite what he thought, he loved it in Elysia. The seasons were perfect, although hot in the summer and cold in the winter both autumn and spring were mild. An abundance of flowers and herbs grew, which his master before him took advantage of. Furthermore the market place, when the merchants and traders weren't being the epitome of scummy racists, was plentiful with fruit and vegetable nearly all year around. When things didn't grown in Elysia, they were imported from Genia, which made them more expensive. It was a long walk into the city, and while he often complained about the amount of time it took him to get into the city; he also appreciated of the silence and solitude of the empty hillside which they had built their home upon.
As he walked through the streets, he occasionally rubbed his hand across the hat covering his hair. A short distance from the barber he was starting to become nervous. What would he do if the place he walked into refused to see him because he had pointy ears? He looked terrible, in any case, would he be able to stand being laughed at?
The little bell on the door jingled as he walked into the empty shop, and man smoking a pipe at a table stood up. He set the pipe down and smiled widely as he walked towards the front of the shop where Lionel was.
"Welcome, welcome, welcome!"
Lionel slowly removed the hat from his head, smiling weakly at the barber.
"Is there anything at all you can do about this mess I have created?"
The barber paused, somewhat shocked at the "mess", then Lionel saw his gaze fall lower -- his ears. Lionel held his breath, expecting to be told to get out or the Elysian Guard would be called... But then the barber laughed and waved him towards a chair.
"You really did a number on yourself, son! Let's see what I can do!"
"You have my gratitude!" Lionel exclaimed, sitting down in the specified chair. The man checked his hair quickly then ushered a large water basin on wheels over. The water was long since cold, but Lionel didn't mind so long as his hair could get cut. It was in a very subtle manner that people, who pretended to be acceptant towards "pointy-eared folk", were discriminant. If Lionel had been seen as an Elysian, perhaps the man would have taken the time to make warm water to wash his hair in.
"How did you even do this! Haha, you really did a terrible job!"
"I have an acquaintance, who cuts her own hair," Lionel said, recalling the reason why he had started this mess. "And she insisted I should be able to do the same... However, I realized in the process that she is able to do so because her hair is quite long... Perhaps she just needs to part it around her shoulders to cut it."
"I guarantee you that girl needs an honest haircut too!" The barber said, nodding. "Learned from my father, who learned from his... Almost no one can cut their hair by themselves. Less they shave it all off with a razor!"
"I considered this... but I do believe that a longer cut looks more favorable," Lionel smiled up at the man as he rinsed the soap out of his hair. He would have to properly condition it when he got home.
"Rare to see pointy eared folk around here," Lionel simply smiled, closing his eyes to keep from rolling them at the idiocy as the barber toweled his hair dry. "You a student?"
"No sir," Lionel replied as the barber adjusted the chair upright again, clipping it into place. "I live here."
"You live here?"
"Yes, sir, I have lived in Elysia all of my life," Lionel replied.
"Oh?" The man replied curiously.
"I suppose if you were to ask me if I am Talarian, I would have to tell you no," he said, carefully choosing his words to the man with scissors in his hands. His outward appearances, and possibly his life, were literately in this man's hands. "I was born in an inn in Lunaria, as far as I know. We traveled back and forth between Lunaria and Elysia until I was six, when my mother passed away. I lived here with my teacher, on the outskirts of town, for all of my life since. I have never been inside of a Talarian city, though I travelled there once expecting to go... Part way there, I realized I do not like the way the countryside looks... The flowers and flora are all different... I decided to come home, to Elysia... It is much more beautiful here."
The man hummed pleasantly.
"It is pretty nice here, huh. What'd you guys do up in Lunaria with them cat people?"
Lionel clenched his teeth together, once more resisting the urge to roll his eyes at this man's idiocy. Most Elysians were like this. They were racist with no reason, and they did not even realize it.
"My Mother and Father have acquaintances there. My Mother passed several years ago, however, and now my Father travels around the world... Working, or something," Lionel considered for a moment, then shrugged slightly. "He sends money home, occasionally.1.. At this point in my life, I send it back. I have no need for the money of a man who spent none of his time raising me."
The barber laughed heartily and continued to cut Lionel's hair. The conversation tapered off, and Lionel waited patiently until the man was done. The barber brushed the back of Lionel’s neck off and pulled the cape off of him. Lionel stood and gently pushed the wrinkles out of his clothes before reaching into his pocket to pull out the coin purse. He pulled a gold coin out first, regretting his decision. He could no longer barter for a good price.
He handed the coin to the man and smiled.
"Keep the change." While he wasn't exactly happy about his choice, for he had intended to do the same with a silver piece instead, this would at least guarantee haircuts -- and maybe warm water! -- For another visit. The man took the gold coin with some shock, but Lionel didn't say anything else as he walked out. Well, at least now he appeared to have some money to someone in Efryion.
He didn't have much left, but he figured it would be best to give some money back to Sydney and then drop by the market to buy some of the reject vegetables on his way home. They would be bruised, and in some cases old, but usually the flavor didn't change. It was also acceptable for him to buy those ones, seeing as he was "pointy eared" folk. He deposited his hat in his messenger bag and started on his way.
"Thanks for your business!" The barber called from the shop door, and Lionel waved his hand at the man, smiling some. The man grinned broadly, pleased with Lionel's tip. He should be, Lionel thought bitterly. They should all be appreciative of any business they get, whether or not the persons’ ears were pointy or not. Everyone was human anyway.
He adjusted his bag and stood up taller. He looked better now, he should pretend like he felt like it too. One of Felicia's mottos, of many -- that she probably forgot she had, was 'Fake it until you make it!' He smiled slightly. Maybe something would roll around for him after all, if he just pretended like he was worthy of it.
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