Prompt #239: Hair
I wear my hair long because it was the fashion for a gentleman to do so when I was mortal. Rachel has implied several times it is odd that my hair is longer than hers, though she is perhaps the only one who ever sees me with it any way except pulled back in my customary queue. When we first met, she found it--not a good look was her exact words, I have an excellent memory--though she seems to have become accustomed to it as of late.
I do not like to be untidy, which is why I wear my hair back so and my beard neatly trimmed (more of a goatee, now, which Isobel insists I keep in order to look "villainous"). In fact, I believe Isobel thought, upon first meeting me (she did not say this, as she was terrified of me, but I read it easily enough from her mind), I believe she thought the queue ("ponytail", which is a term I find abhorrent) was an intention gesture on my part ot look "frightening".
If you would like to know the truth, I suffer from a phenomenon similar to the vampire. If you cut my hair, my bloody healing factor grows it immediately back to the same length as it was the day I climbed into Apocalypse's bloody machine. For some odd reason, however, I still have to shave. It is most curious. I have never reasoned that out, precisely.
My hair is very dark, and I insist it is straight, though Rachel insists otherwise. She tugs on it occasionally, when she thinks I am asleep. I am not entirely sure why.
I do not like to be untidy, which is why I wear my hair back so and my beard neatly trimmed (more of a goatee, now, which Isobel insists I keep in order to look "villainous"). In fact, I believe Isobel thought, upon first meeting me (she did not say this, as she was terrified of me, but I read it easily enough from her mind), I believe she thought the queue ("ponytail", which is a term I find abhorrent) was an intention gesture on my part ot look "frightening".
If you would like to know the truth, I suffer from a phenomenon similar to the vampire. If you cut my hair, my bloody healing factor grows it immediately back to the same length as it was the day I climbed into Apocalypse's bloody machine. For some odd reason, however, I still have to shave. It is most curious. I have never reasoned that out, precisely.
My hair is very dark, and I insist it is straight, though Rachel insists otherwise. She tugs on it occasionally, when she thinks I am asleep. I am not entirely sure why.