♛ 08 - She Will NOT Adore My Battle Scars
[Ashura's standing in a well traveled hall, staring down into a random mirror placed on the wall, and continuously stroking his hair. Though his physical wounds had been healed, there had been nothing that could be done for his hair. One of his long side bangs was half eaten away by the acid the twins had spewed in their death throws, and part of the longer strands in back were charred and ugly looking. His hair had not been destroyed, but it was certainly not the shinning waterfall of ebony he was so proud of.
He frowned at his reflection, tugging his hair and gritting his teeth, perhaps stupidly distraught over this but somehow it was becoming outlet for the deeper emotions the whole spider affair had brought out.
And of course, sitting open on a nearby table, faithful as ever, was the journal.]
Is anyone good with a pair of scissors? I need a hair cut, badly. Those blasted twins ruined my hair and a set of my good war robes.
[He let out something between an irritated sigh and distraught sound, tugging again.]
[ooc: He is one of the ones that was flown back by the Super-peeps, or so I have reasoned. So, yeah, there it is.]
He frowned at his reflection, tugging his hair and gritting his teeth, perhaps stupidly distraught over this but somehow it was becoming outlet for the deeper emotions the whole spider affair had brought out.
And of course, sitting open on a nearby table, faithful as ever, was the journal.]
Is anyone good with a pair of scissors? I need a hair cut, badly. Those blasted twins ruined my hair and a set of my good war robes.
[He let out something between an irritated sigh and distraught sound, tugging again.]
[ooc: He is one of the ones that was flown back by the Super-peeps, or so I have reasoned. So, yeah, there it is.]