Finn Haynes (finnigan_h) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2018-01-24 02:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | #september 2017 |
Who: Fin and Rook
Where: The Beard Shop
When: Evening Monday 25th September
Warnings: A bit of language
Status: Complete
It had taken several hours longer than anticipated but it was just after lunch when Fin was finally released from the hospital, all the scans and tests had come back clear and with some paperwork for insurance and fliers from mental health professionals he walked out the door and saw that Brad was standing beside his SUV in the parking lot. With a smile his friend had taken the overnight bag and put it on the backseat alongside a few things from Fin’s apartment - including Ferdinand and a large plastic tub. Without any idle chatter Brad dropped Fin, clothes and tortoise off at Books and Beer and reminded him if he needed anything to just call before carefully driving off and disappearing amongst the fog once again.
Over the next few hours Fin had checked everything to make sure that the previous day’s blackout hadn’t caused any damage, thankfully everything seemed to be fine and he was glad that he didn’t stock food there as all of that would have to go, a task he wasn’t looking forward to doing when he got home. Two customers had braved the weather and flickering lights to stock up on books to last them through the fog, but by the time dusk had come the town was silent, no one walked the streets and only the faint glow of streetlights and the occasional storefront light could be seen from the window of Books and Beer.
Seeing his own reflection in the glass Fin ran a hand through his hair, sighing to himself he grabbed the keys from behind the bar, flipped the sign on the door to ‘Closed’ and locked the door, he just hoped that Rooker - the barber was open at this time. Then again the barber always seemed to be open, when that man got time to sleep Fin didn’t know. It wasn’t that long (although it seemed a lot longer in the thick fog) until he made it to The Beard Shop, the sign said ‘Open’ so Fin let himself in and looked around for the tall and rather imposing barber.
The barber was always in, except when out on the hunt. He really didn’t mind that business had slowed to a crawl and eventually a stop. He had inventory to do, maintenance, and deep cleaning. He was the only one thorough enough to get the job done. The fog wasn’t quite as worrying to him as it was to others and he was there much earlier in the day. The sunlight was nearly all but blocked out.
The footsteps had alerted him to a potential client long before the bell on the door rang, and the vampire turned his gaze over his shoulder to look at the man that walked in. He recognized him first by the scent of his blood, then that mess of blond hair.
“When are you going to let me clean up that skull of yours,” he said, almost delighted as he rested the mop against the wall. He was taller than most, scary tall. Six foot seven and that muscle added to that imposing figure. “Sit,” it wasn’t a question of ‘are you here for a cut’, it was sit and shut your trap. He was the best damn barber in town - despite his unwillingness to cut his own hair.
He wouldn’t admit it but the first time they ‘met’ the guy honestly freaked him out, then again Fin literally ran into the human wall in the middle of a Maine winter’s night after watching a horror movie so it was no wonder he was freaked out. Though he did soon realize that despite the imposing size and slight air of danger around the man was a damn good barber - long hair or not.
Fin saw Rook with the mop in his hand and was about to greet the man before he was summoned to the chair, without a word he walked over and sat down. His hair was literally a mess, three and a half days in hospital and only soap to wash with meant it looked horrible, not to mention he had at least a day’s worth of stubble. The stubble he could deal with, he just wanted the hair gone and honestly didn’t care if Rook gave him a buzz cut back to nothing, anything was better than this - he’d had pretty much the same style for at least the past four years but after all that had happened it was high time for a change.
Rook stepped up behind him. In his line of work, mirrors were probably not his best friend but these weren’t backed with silver. Aluminum. Modern mirrors were so much nicer. He lifted the chair to a comfortable level for himself, he ran careful fingers through the mess, “You seem troubled, Fin,” his accent was thick today. He carefully combed his hair and wet it down with a bottle, clipping up the top portion so he could see what he was dealing with underneath.
He never used clippers unless he absolutely had to. He was precise as could be, a straight razor, a comb and scissors were his thing. He went to work right away, turning the chair so he could look at his work in the mirror and make sure it was even. If they knew what he was, they probably wouldn’t let him anywhere near them with a razor.
He was professional though and his hunger had been sated.
‘Troubled’ was an understatement, he felt more like a complete and utter fuck-up, but Fin kept that to himself, no doubt everyone in town had heard of what he had done on Friday and those who hadn’t would know soon enough, no one believed the whole ‘drunken swimming’ thing anyway.
He had closed his eyes when Rook had started, not really wanting to see what was getting cut off but with each soft ‘snick’ of the scissors Fin felt better, lighter. “Just my fucked up life, not like that’s anything new. Shit happens and you’re not the one in control.” He didn’t want to go into too much detail, it would bore the barber who had probably heard hundreds of men complain about things over the years. He’d just sit there in quiet and let Rook do his thing.
Rook had heard just about everything in his line of work, and the confessions of lovers on their deathbeds. He continued to cut away at those locks, shaving down pretty close to the scalp, but fading it up to that longer top. He was quick and that’s why people paid him the big bucks. He got people in and out of his chair in a timely manner.
He eyed him through the mirror, “My lips are sealed. If you want to talk, talk. I can’t judge.”
Fin could feel the difference as the previously longer locks were cut off and piling on the floor, his eyes were still shut, not really wanting to see Rook's work until it was complete, he did know that the shorter his hair was the darker it got so maybe for a while he'd be almost brunette instead of blond. It was a minor detail but something he'd be seeing in the mirror and would have to get used to, he didn't care what the reaction from others would be, this was for him and him alone.
He shook his head a bit when there was a pause in the cutting, he didn't really want a bald patch from moving his head at the wrong time. “I'm sure you'll be hearing all about it when the fog clears and customers start coming in, rumors don't take long to get around in this town. I haven't heard them myself so I can't tell you which are true and which aren't. But I wouldn't have done it if I was sober.” Fin knew he sounded cryptic but he still hadn't come to terms with what he had tried to do, to admit it was going to take a while.
The vampire continued cutting away, meticulous in his work and edging the fade to look clean and precise. Blond hair was the worst when it came to blending. It was hard to see and it had a different texture.
He tipped Fin’s head forward, the blade at his neck as it danced along his skin. It took a lot of trust for someone to sit in his chair and let him near them with a straight razor. He didn’t shave a balloon at the barber board test for nothing. He glanced up at him in the mirror, “Ah, the little mermaid,” he mused in his own language, then, “I stay away from it, I work with sharp objects. I’m glad to see you’re okay.”
Fin would be happy with any kind of cut or style that the barber did, he had toyed with the idea of going short again for a while, he liked his longer hair but it took time to style and care for where as something short usually only took a towel and a run through of the hands, maybe a bit of gel or something to style it if he ever felt like it. Though he did know he’d have to come back in for another trim in a month or so but if that was the least of his problems, so be it.
He let Rook move his head around to get to different places, he didn’t know the barber’s secrets but did have some trust in the man, no one could be as worse with a razor as the wannabe barbers back in college, but getting free haircuts wasn’t a bad trade off. “A beer or two usually does me… but shit happened, the bottle was there and I ended up doing something very stupid. I’m alive and the hospital says I’m physically okay, better than a lot of people out there.”
“Fin is an apt name,” short for something, but he would forever give him the name little mermaid in his head. The siren. When the fade was done, he moved on to cut the top portion, cutting it at a manageable length but keeping up with that undercut trend. He had another client that did this, and he had the most stubborn curls anyone could imagine. “The solution is simple,” he started, clipping away at the strands, “avoid it.”
But who was he to avoid temptation? Why, some poor soul had lost its life in the fog that day and it wasn’t a motor accident. He left them sitting on a park bench- completely drained of blood. The wounds had been covered and no trace was left behind.
It was the perfect cover for a monster, and he was just that.
Well it was Finnigan but he always went by Fin, it had gotten a few laughs when he was a kid and spent a good portion of the summer near the ocean or in recent years, surfing but it was much better than getting called by his full name - he only got that from his mother or grandparents when he was in trouble.
He chuckled softly when Rook told him to simply avoid it. “I’ll be the only teetotaling barkeep in the town.” Not that it bothered him, he tried to keep Books and Beer more about the books and less about the beer, if someone wanted to get rolling drunk - that’s what the Back Porch was for, a quiet drink with a good book was what his store was about. It was hard sometimes to keep the focus on the original purpose of the store, and Fin would admit that there were times when finances got a bit tight but somehow he always managed to keep the business going and turning over a profit, even if it wasn’t that big at times.
What he wanted to say, he worked around his own temptations on a daily basis. It was difficult and he made the odd mistake on occasion. Amanda was going to kill him for that snack he’d had earlier.
He never pried into the lives of his clients, but he would lend an ear or a heavy hand if they needed it. He ruffled his hair this way and that, working the water out of it and styling it back to reveal his face. He turned the chair towards the mirror, “what do you think?”
It was hard working around temptations, it was something Fin would have to get used to and it wasn’t like he always had a drink while still working, sometimes he’d have a beer with a friend who was in the store but from now on it was going to be sodas and water, nothing more.
When the cutting had stopped and Rook asked what he thought, Fin finally opened his eyes and looked at what the barber had done. He sat in silence for a moment before a smile spread across his face, he looked different but in a good way, maybe even a bit older. “You are amazing.” He tilted his head this way and that to get a better look at the sides. “It’s great! I feel like a new man.” It was cliche to say but he did feel different, he was planning on making changes in his life, after surviving the near drowning he felt like he shouldn’t waste this second chance that he was given and this was only the start of it. “Thank you Rooker.”
The vampire never smiled when clients praised his work. He took some measure of satisfaction making others happy. If he had the emotion, it would’ve been written across his face. He only possessed a devious quality.
“You’re very welcome,” he handed him a mirror that seemingly came out of nowhere. He turned him so he could look at the back in the mirror. “You may want to stop by in two, three weeks tops.”
Fin took the offered mirror and looked at the back of his head, the style and way it was cut was perfect, he rarely trusted barbers or hairdressers to do what they wanted but Rook had done such a fantastic job. “I bet I get some double takes with this, I don’t think some people will recognize me without the hair.” He said with a hint of mirth in his voice, it was amazing how just something as simple as a haircut had brightened his mood. “And I’ll definitely be back in a few weeks, if I’m not you’re welcome to come and stalk the store until I do.” And Fin wouldn’t put it past the man to do just that, or bodily pick him up and carry him the block between their two stores.
Handing the mirror back Fin got his wallet out of his jean’s pocket. “What do I owe you?” Whatever it was he was going to leave a decent tip on top of it, great service deserved to be recognized. Not to mention another raving review online.
“You owe me,” Rook said very simply. It may not be of monetary value, nor favors. He had money, a few dollars here and there was nothing. “I have customers pay what they think their cut is worth.”
To the homeless, he charged nothing. He never fed on them. It was unfair. His black little heart bled for them. “My other chairs have different prices, I only have people pay what they think my services are worth. Fair?” A trade for a trade. He missed the old days.
Fin took out the $50 and a $20 out his wallet and handed it to Rook. “Only fair, so many things have a set value now, no bartering or trading anymore.” Though the idea of trading a haircut for a few books wouldn't be a bad trade, he wasn't sure if Rook was that kind of man. “You're always welcome to stop by the store, if books are more your thing.”
“Have you got books in other languages?” he asked, taking the money from Fin. He wouldn’t say no. English wasn’t quite as poetic. “If times were simpler, we’d have a lot less problems.” Or more, he couldn’t decide which. A lot less confusing perhaps.
He lowered the chair, brushing off his neck and shoulders. “Be careful out there. The fog holds more than lack of visibility.”
“There’s a section of books in other languages but I think a majority of them are in French of Spanish. If you’re after something in particular I’ve got contacts all over the world and can special order titles.” Fin was discreet when it came to his customers so didn’t mention what kinds of books he on occasion ‘special ordered’ in. “Just let me know and I’ll see what I can do.”
Fin got up off the chair after it was lowered and turned to face Rook. “I’m staying out of it as much as I can, there’s something not quite right about the whole thing.” He’d lived his whole life here and fog during winter wasn’t uncommon but this was nothing like he had ever seen before. “You too. I hope it clears soon so we both get our customers back.”
“Thank you,” his lips quirked into a smile. A dangerous smile. There was nothing different about him, taller than most maybe. Something was off about him. “I’ll swing by to check out what you have in stock. I’m partial to history books.”
“It won’t last,” how disappointing. It was the perfect cover. He blended right in.