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+--- Thread: [G] [C] 743.12.09 | A Nearly Bald Move (/showthread.php?tid=5340)
743.12.09 | A Nearly Bald Move - A'tay - 13.Dec.22
It was the first true evening in Igen Weyr. After months of preparing the long disused Weyr and learning the job he didn't want but continued to try his hardest to live up to expectations--he was tired. Exhausted. He felt like he could sleep for a week but A'tay knew he didn't have that luxury anymore as Second and especially not during the current week with everyone officially moving in.
Zelly had been supportive through it all and continued it by ushering him into the newly filled and heated bath with a promise of a light home-cooked meal waiting for him when he came back out. A bath did sound nice. Along with the exhaustion was sore muscles and a long soak would do wonders for his body. His long hair was pulled up into its usual messy bun-like style as A'tay stepped into the bath and slowly sank into the water until he was submerged to his chin. The sigh that followed was more of a groan as the heat worked into his muscles and caused both pleasure and aches until he started to relax.
Despite the overall length of his hair, a few strays in the front were shorter and liked to rebel from the confines and fall into his face. A'tay brushed them away with a practised ease, just like pulling his hair back was a fluid motion now. As he thought about the new path in life he was on and all of the changes he had gone through since Impressing Xyxyth, he couldn't help but wonder if another haircut was the next change. He went to play with his lower lip out of a nervous habit when thinking too much when fingers brushed against stubble and A'tay gave a small crooked grin. That was another change. He'd been too tired and sore each night returning from cleaning Igen to do more than a quick bath before falling into bed so shaving hadn't been a priority. Zelly claimed she liked his scruffy look and he'd awkwardly accepted a few compliments from others as well.
So why not complete the transformation with a hair cut? The scruff made him look older and that certainly wasn't a bad thing given his new position and needing to earn the respect of the Lords he'd be dealing with. The long hair would likely counteract that and A'tay had to admit the upkeep was starting to lose its appeal. He didn't care anymore that he might end up with the same hair style as his brothers, which surprised him given three of those brothers had also moved to Igen. But the goatee and his rank would keep people from confusing him with Xendrin, Orgailian, and Zoremet. Besides, T'ryn had always been the one that he both looked up to and hated being compared to and now they were in different Weyrs and didn't look nearly as identical as they once did.
He spent the rest of his time in the bath thinking about the changes to his life, the tasks he had to oversee in the coming days, and his hair. It had taken several years to get it to its current length so it was just as big of a step as moving Weyrs and being in charge of something. But, as he dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist, A'tay committed to the idea. He quickly went into his bedroom and grabbed the scissors from his crafting supplies and before he could fully think about what he was doing or if there was a better way--the bun was pulled enough to give room for the scissors to get in and cut.
Within seconds his hand was full of a ball of blonde hair and A'tay laughed as he stared at it. "No going back now," he told himself and was pleased moments later when his hand ran through what was left on his head. It seemed he had avoided a bald spot but it was an uneven mess. Still, it was something he could work with without hesitation and worrying they were or weren't going short enough. Well, maybe not he now. He needed Zelly's assistance to clean it up and headed to the kitchen in his towel and holding scissors and his hair.
"I figured the new adventure needed a new look," A'tay explained with a smile when Zelly gasped in surprise at his appearance and then laughed as she started fussing over the potential mess he had made of what remained of his hair.