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Livin' The Dream Ma'

Discussion in 'Pandora, Year 1 - 7' started by Butch DeLoria, Jul 7, 2018.

  1. July 8th

    It was a hot Summer day, Butch hadn't been topside long in the wasteland but he could still tell it was worse than this weather. He had his jacket hung up one one of the banisters of the early 20th century apartment building he'd set up shop outside of. With how hot it was he figured some of the other gangs would be somewhere with less open sun. He had the top half of his jumpsuit pulled down and wrapped around his waist, leaving him in a white t-shirt and the bottom half of his vault suit. he had his barber supplies still on his hip and a jar for money. He was the best damn barber in the wastes and so he figured he'd use his skills on the streets to get some good ol' cash. He didn't know if he needed some paperwork to be doing any of this but even if he did he probably wouldn't have tried getting it anyway. Butch like working with hair, he didn't know why but it was calming to him, sometimes his ma' would have him do hers up when she woke up from a binge night and had hangover head. Sure it didn't hide from them the fact she was a drunk but Butch wasn't gonna let his Ma' know that, he had gotten good at it but he was a tough guy, a Tunnel Snake, and a Tunnel Snake didn't spend his days messin' with hair. Still Butch was damn good at it.

    He had his comb held in his teeth as he kept snipping away at some prissy elven dudes hair. He wanted some trimmed off the back and top while keeping it long. He took his comb out of his mouth and parted his hair along the left side. "Alright there ya go, money in the jar." Butch held up the mirror for the guy to get a look then motioned to the jar. The guy dropped a couple bills into it and moved on. "Who's next?"
     
  2. Seg-El

    Seg-El Guest


    Seg leaned against the front of a building across the street as he watched the kid cut hair with a curious look. The fact that a barber was working essentially on a street corner didn't faze him -- after all, where else would he have gotten a haircut in the slums of Kandor? Kem had been the one to do it behind the bar counter in the mornings for the past few years. He could almost still hear his best friend chattering in his ear about how he was going to cut it straight all around the next time he pilfered a swig from one of the stock bottles.

    Without even meaning to, he reached up to touch the slightly shaggy hair above his forehead. Damn, he missed that man. He missed all of them.

    (Though Brainiac...not so much.)

    When the boy called out for his next customer, Seg hesitated for a moment as he glanced down the sidewalk, but there wasn't exactly a line. Ah, to hell with it. He might as well since it wasn't as if Kem was going to be here anytime soon to do it for him.

    "How much, mate?" he asked, after having crossed the street to stand in front of him with his hands in his pockets. He was wearing his old clothes from Krypton that he'd arrived in, looking every bit as roguish as he was.

    It didn't even occur to him that maybe his newfound invulnerability would lead to...complications with something as simple as getting a trim.

     
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  3. Butch wiped at his tools down and looked at the guy who'd come up, sitting down and thinking about what he could do for him, but in the end it was all up to the client unless they told him he could do what he wished with it. Butch pulled out a rag and swept away the bits of hair that had fallen from his last client. Butch motioned for him to sit. "Three pounds for a cut, seven for a cut and a shave, five for a styling" Butch leaned against the stone banister of the staircase and he looked over the guy's duds, they were nice but they weren't exactly close to his own duds. He had it coming along but he hadn't made it yet, maybe he could do something with that hair. Help him get a little closer to being as good as a Tunnel Snake when it came to looks. Butch looked to his jacket and cracked his knuckles. The jacket was in pristine condition since Butch was not gonna let his tunnel snakes leather be disrespected.

    [color=#f4c03e}"You look like you could definitely use a styling. Maybe a shave for that mess on your jaw."[/color] He motioned to the man's stubble.
     
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  4. Seg-El

    Seg-El Guest


    Seg touched his jaw as he considered the boy's words. Yeah, he really was looking a little rugged these days, wasn't he? It was the type of scruff that would've gotten his cheeks cupped by his mother as she clicked her tongue in affectionate disapproval. That thought...made his chest hurt a bit more than he would've liked, and so he forked over the seven pounds into the jar and sat down in front of him.

    "Cut and shave it is, then," he announced, leaning his arms on his knees and watching the people go past. And they were people of all kinds of different shapes, nothing like he would've ever dreamed of seeing on Kandor. Tch. And to think they executed his grandfather for daring to believe in life on other planets when there was life in other universes.

    What he'd pay to grab the Voice of Rao by the back of his neck and force him to look at just some plain old afternoon in this place.

    "Name's Seg," he introduced himself, choosing small talk over thoughts of righteous revenge. "You're human, right?"


     
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  5. Butch motioned for the guy to sit down and got out his tools. Butch took out a straight razor and flicked it open, he’d have to work with what he had so he reached into a bucket of water that was lukewarm in the sun and grabbed up a rag, squeezing out he excess water and pressing it around the man’s face to get him ready to shave. “I look like a pixie ta’ you?” Butch shrugged at the question, from what he’d seen in Pandora it was real easy to tell when someone wasn’t human. He opened up a tiny bottle of shaving oil and dabbed a bit on his hands, rubbing them together than patting the oil onto the guys cheeks. “Born and raised Washington DC, Vault, Hold still, Vault 101.” But sharpened his razor on the sharpening strip attached to his tool belt. He pressed the razor to the man’s cheek and pullled it back.

    There was a scraping noise as he blade just slid across the skin and hair. He pulled his razor back. “I just sharpened this..” Butch out the razor away and pulled out Toothpick, pressing a button and springing the blade free. “Don’t worry I got this under control.” He dragged the edge of the knife across the man’s jaw and...same response. “Okay what the fuck is this? Am I being played with?”
     
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  6. Seg-El

    Seg-El Guest


    Seg just snorted at that. "How am I s'pposed to know the difference? You all look like you could've walked straight out of Kandor to me." It was true enough and odd at that. The fact that humans and Kryptonians looked so identical that his grandchildren could literally hide in plain sight among them prickled at the scientific part of his mind, though it wasn't as if he had the tools or the time to start some kind of evolutionary comparison.

    He'd save that kind of energy for other pet projects, like figuring out how not to blast lasers from his eyeballs every time he got a tad heated. Now that would be directly useful.

    As the razor scraped against his teeth, Seg narrowed his eyes at the strange sensation, but didn't think much of it. It felt like the nerves on his face were dulled. He felt most of the pressure, sure, but it was almost as if there was a thin rag or something in between himself and the blade. It would've definitely explained why no hair came away too.

    "You need a hand sharpening that thing?" he asked skeptically, beginning to cast doubt on exactly where he threw his coin. For this kind of half-assed work, he would've done it himself in the shitty mirror of his tiny apartment.

    When the barber came towards him with a rather nasty looking pocketknife, Seg's entire frame tensed up. His natural flight or fight reared to life in the back of his skull, and though his fingers twitched with the urge to swing out to cop a hit and make a break for it, he resisted the urge to move. That kind of slugshot would crush brains at this point, and besides, no pocketknife was going to be breaking his skin anytime soon.

    Or...shaving his little beard, apparently.

    "What in the bloody--" he muttered to himself, staring at the clean pocketknife in honest bemusement. His hand came up to feel the stubble that was stubbornly still there. "I'm not playing with you, mate. How is that..." And then he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fuckin' hell. You've got to be kidding me."

     
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  7. Butch just looked at the guy, he literally was not able to be cut, he was just there with unbreakable skin and uncuttable hair. And the guy seemed aware of it to an extent since he seemed more annoyed than shocked. Jesus the guy was a freaking invulnerable...whatever he was. Butch let Toothpick's blade slip back into its compartment and pocketed his knife again. With a shake of his head he put away his scissors and shrugged.Nothing he could do and it wasn't like the guy had was losing any money since Butch just pulled the seven out of the jar and slapped it into the guys hand. He wasn't about to lose business for ripping a guy off. Even if it was his own weird body that was causing the issue. He crossed his arms and thought for a second maybe if he got like some weird magical scissors with his money he wouldn't run into problems like this, just something that could cut anything, he'd have to be extra careful with em probably but it'd be a useful investment if there were more guys like this one.

    "Alright if this ain't a scam what is it then? Why the hell is your hair indestructible"
     
  8. Seg-El

    Seg-El Guest


    Seg tucked the bills back in his jacket as he gave a half-hearted shrug.

    "I'm an alien," he deadpanned, running his thumb over the stubble on his chin. Now what the hell was he supposed to do? Well, maybe Kara had an idea. She hadn't looked particularly hairy last time they'd met, and she had to have the same issue. Whatever the case, it was worth checking out more than it was worth walking around for the rest of his life looking like he'd spent the last 40 cycles in the mines.

    With an irritated breath, he got off the curb and nodded to the boy. Kind of awkward if you asked him.

    "Apparently everything about me is invulnerable here," Seg said, glancing away. "Great for a fight. Not so great for everything else."

     
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