All of My Haircut Works Part Two by Joelsweet
Crowning Glory Part One
“This is Acer. He will be working here as an errand boy for Prince Laedus from now on. Could you show him the ropes?” the head maid asked sympathetically. With that, the she exited the room and closed the door behind her with a resounding thud. Camil skeptically examined the newcomer. He looked strong and wiry; staring at Camil in a cocky manner. He probably wouldn't last more than a month, Camil thought. The prince liked his servants on the slim side and submissive. The prince also liked his servants to have long, beautiful hair; and this kid had only shoulder length locks. Camil almost laughed. How had this guy been hired in the first place?
“Okay, Acer, first we need to set some ground rules. Your job is to carry and fetch the prince’s things for him. You will be polite, and you will only speak when spoken to. You will obey all of the prince’s orders, and above all, you will NOT bother the prince and I when we are alone together.” Camil flipped his floor-length, golden braid over his shoulder. “Am I clear?” he questioned firmly.
“Yes sir,” Acer replied, with a sarcastic tone of voice. Camil raised his chin and looked down his nose at Acer, hiding his annoyance.
“You will treat me with respect,” he said, meadow-green eyes flashing dangerously. Acer only smirked. Camil whipped around and started walking away. Acer followed behind him. Camil opened the door and held it for the arrogant kid.
“Go downstairs and bring me back a pitcher of water,” he commanded. “I need a drink.” Acer rolled his eyes and obeyed. Camil folded his arms and watched Acer until he turned the corner.
Lord, that kid was going to be a pain. Camil didn't really need water that much; he just wanted to see how well Acer would follow this simple instruction.
Camil closed the door and slipped into the prince’s bed. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He would wait there until the prince returned. It was his job, afterall. Well… part of his job, anyway. Camil was the prince’s bed warmer. His companion. His confidant. His treasured concubine.
That’s what the prince called Camil. His “treasure.” He’d tenderly run his hands through Camil’s shining golden hair and whisper sweet words to him and make love with him. The prince was highly protective of Camil. Nobody was to disrespect him or be unkind to him or deny him anything. However, Camil was humble and kind. His fellow servants weren't annoyed by his power and treated him well. But people like Acer… Camil couldn't stand them. And he would try to be reasonable, but he sure as hell wouldn't take any bad treatment.
Camil heard the door click open and looked up. Acer had returned; still sporting that aggravating smirk. He roughly clunked the pitcher onto the bedside table, causing almost half of the water to slosh over the brim.
“Thank you,” Camil said icily. Acer just stood there with his hands on his hips as Camil got out of the bed, grabbed a glass, and filled it up. “You're dismissed.” Camil said, irritated. Why was he still standing there? Camil daintily drank the water, which tasted… odd… It was kind of sickly sweet. Suddenly, it became difficult for Camil to keep his eyelids open. They kept falling as if there were weights on them. He only realized what was happening when it was too late. “What… did you do?” he struggled to make out.
“This is only the beginning, sweetheart,” Acer replied snidely. And then everything faded to black as Camil left consciousness.
Camil woke up to a pitch black room. He couldn't see a thing. At first he thought he was blindfolded, but there was nothing tied around his face that he could feel. Camil tried to move his arms and legs, but found that he was tightly bound to the chair he was sitting on. He was naked, and the air was cold against his bare flesh. His thick, wavy hair was unbound; he could feel its silkiness brushing against his exposed back.
What the hell? Camil then remembered what had occurred before he passed out. That punk drugged me! Suddenly, Camil was filled with fear. What was Acer planning to do to him?
With a click, an overhead light flickered to life. Its brightness temporarily blinded Camil. He blinked quickly, and found himself staring at a smug looking Acer.
“Where am I?” Camil asked angrily. Acer laughed.
“Don't worry your pretty little head about it.” Camil glared at him.
“Release me at once!” Camil demanded.
“Sorry, can't do that,” Acer said in a falsely sweet voice. Camil struggled against his bonds, but they were tied very tightly; so tight that they dug into his delicate skin. The rope was scratchy and harsh. His hands were tied behind the chair, his feet were bound together, and his thighs and torso were secured to the seat and back of the chair. Acer looked Camil’s nude body up and down and whistled.
“I can see why the prince likes you so much,” Acer remarked. Camil glowered at him, furious.
“Let me go!!” he yelled. Camil refused to act intimidated in front of a lowly man such as Acer. Acer strode forwards, grabbed Camil’s hair, and yanked hard. Camil cried out in pain.
“Let's get this straight.. I don't follow your orders, got it? You stay compliant, and we won't hurt you too badly. Got it?” Acer released Camil’s glimmering locks from his grasp and smiled. Camil nodded, albeit reluctantly.
“Good. Because, you see, I'm holding you for ransom. My group has infiltrated the castle over time, and we determined that the least valuable person that was closest to a royal was you. The prince’s. Little. Plaything.” Acer stroked Camil’s cheek gently, and Camil regarded him with cold, collected eyes.
Acer stepped away, and began rummaging in a dresser that was against one wall. The windowless room was small, cold, and made of roughly hewn cinder block. A single, half burnt out light panel was fixed onto the ceiling.
Camil looked over as Acer closed the drawer carefully. He saw what was clutched in his hand and began to panic. Desperately, he fought his bonds, but it was in vain.
“Hold still!” Acer chimed. Camil looked on in fear as Acer snapped a black nylon barber cape around his neck, pulling his incredibly long hair over his shoulder to do so. He looked like a beautiful porcelain doll, all caped up nicely and waiting in agonizing fear for what was to come. Camil tried to hide it, but he was shaking in trepidation. Behind Camil, Acer pulled his curtain of hair back towards him.
“This is a lot of hair, dearie…,” he whispered menacingly. Camil shivered involuntarily. “I've decided to give something to the prince. Something that will warn him that we’re serious about the ransom. Aaand… I think I know just the thing.” Acer’s large hand stroked Camil’s flowing, gorgeous, wavy mane. “Mm… Just like silk under my fingers. Maybe I should take advantage of this opportunity.”
Camil warily looked over his shoulder at Acer. What did that mean? Behind him, Camil’s hair trailed a couple inches on the floor; thick, radiant locks that were neatly trimmed at the ends. Camil glimpsed Acer pull something out of his pocket, and was afraid that it was scissors; however, it was simply a comb. Acer grabbed Camil’s hair halfway down its length and picked it up to begin combing the ends. Camil felt slight tugging as the tines moved through his hair. Acer made his way up the length and eventually was combing through the entire length in huge, lengthy strokes. There weren't many tangled to begin with, so the strokes were smooth and unbroken. Camil always loved when his prince tended to his hair. This unfamiliar, menacing man doing it felt wrong.
Acer parted Camil’s hair neatly down the middle, gathered half of the hair in his hands, and tied a deep green ribbon around it. He then did the same with the other half, leaving Camil with pigtails over two inches in diameter. Camil’s six foot pigtails draped over his chest and pooled in his lap. The comb was returned to Acer’s pocket, and a pair of shiny sheep shears were extracted. Camil saw them and cried out as they were placed at the base of his left pigtail, above the ribbon. He tensed, waiting in horror for the crunch of the shears closing around his precious hair. But it never came. He felt the shears being pulled away. Acer snapped them loudly in front of Camil’s face, making him gasp. None of his tresses had been severed. Yet..
Acer pulled the ribbons, effectively untying them and spilling more hair into Camil’s lap. He leisurely ran his fingers through with his left hand, shears held high and open in his right. With a swift movement, Acer placed the frigid blades at Camil’s nape, making his body jolt. Camil tried to move his head forwards to avoid the shears, but it was in vain. Acer gripped Camil’s head and held it in place as he ran the open shears ever so slowly down the length of his hair.
“I could cut it at any place, you know,” Acer teased deviously. Camil’s hands were clenched into fists behind the chair. This was torture.
“Please, stop!” he pleaded softly.
“No way. I'm just getting started!”
Acer pulled Camil’s hair behind him again, put the shears back in his pocket, and began braiding it. It was quite a simple braid, with only three sections. It was the same wide thickness throughout its entire length; resembling heavy, silky rope with a emerald hued ribbon at the end of it. Again, Acer ran procured the shears and ran them down Camil’s hair. Suddenly, Camil heard the blades violently click together. He sharply intook breath. Acer pulled the ochroid braid over Camil’s shoulder and dropped it. It hit Camil’s chest with a thud. Frantically Camil examined it, and found that the plait was unscathed.
Acer untied the ribbon and gradually ran his fingers through Camil’s locks to separate the braid. The tension was awful. Camil wanted Acer to stop touching his hair so badly. He wanted to go back to the prince’s soft bed, lie there in comfort and peace until the prince’s return, and then spend another wonderful night with him.
Once the braid was completely undone, Acer’s hands left Camil’s hair. Was he done? Had he just wanted to taunt the beautiful, kidnapped man? And then, it happened.
Snip. Camil heard a long sheave of hair fall to the floor and felt it slide off of his head. He gasped and tears welled up in his eyes. A lock right on Camil’s crown had been severed close to the scalp. The satiny lock lay there on the floor; shining softly in the light.
“Oh! Too short?” Acer asked, grinning. Camil was terrified. He struggled against his ties more, only succeeding in cutting up his fragile, pale skin. “Don't worry, I'll even it out.”
Acer violently grabbed a section of Camil’s hair at the front top part of his head. He pulled it, causing Camil to be jerked painfully backwards. Acer positioned the giant sheep shears close to the scalp and began meticulously clipping away. No hair was left longer than ¼ inch. Tears tumbled down Camil’s face as he sat in stoic silence. He wouldn't give Acer the satisfaction of noisy sobbing. Acer finished severing the section of hair that he had grabbed, leaving Camil with a shorn patch on the top of his head. No going back now. Acer pulled the cut-off handful of hair away from the rest of the locks and dangled them in front of Camil’s face teasingly. He dumped them unceremoniously onto Camil’s lap. They were so soft and silky that they glided off of the cape and landed on the floor. Camil looked down at the gorgeous, six feet of hair on the floor, mouth open in distress. Tears slowly rolled down the cape.
In a flash, the shears were returned to Camil’s head, this time at the nape. Aggressively, Acer sawed from the nape, around Camil’s right ear, and joined the patch on the top.
“Such lovely hair, dear. A shame it won't be attached to you much longer.” Viciously, Acer started stripping the locks on the right side of Camil’s head in rows. He wasn't cutting in neat, orderly rows; they were haphazard, wavering, and crossing one another.
Snip. Snip. Snip. The noise filled Camil with apprehension. Soon, the entire right side of his head was shorn close to the scalp! Acer began on the left. He gathered the thick locks in his hand and harshly cropped the gripped hair two inches from the scalp. Acer held the chopped hair in front of Acer’s face like some kind of trophy. He slowly ran his hand down the length and let it swing and hit Camil’s face. He draped it over Camil’s shoulder, and the gold contrasted sharply with the black of the cape. Acer slowly snipped at the longer locks to reduce them to the length of the rest of Camil’s hair. 2 inch chunks of hair fell; some floating down to land on the cape and some getting caught on Camil’s face and left ear and mixing with fallen tears.
And then, it was over. None of Camil’s long golden hair, his crowning glory, was remaining on his head. Acer softly rubbed the short, uneven tufts left on Camil’s scalp.
“Nice haircut. Where'd you get it done?” Acer jeered. He bent down and began collecting the golden locks. He slowly took them off of Camil’s lap, the floor, and the cape and they filled Acer’s arms.
“Look at all of this! Wow, it's so soft,” Acer commented. Camil scowled at him, filled with rage. Acer hugged the mass of hair close to him. “Like the finest silk.” He smirked, and walked over to the dresser. He pulled out a sack and began stuffing it with hair. He tied the drawstring, and locks spilled out the top still, there was so much of it.
“Now if you'll excuse me, I have a delivery to make. Don't go anywhere, okay? Oh, wait..,” Acer goaded. He then left the room, taking the heavy, bulging sack with him and flicking the light off. Camil waited thirty seconds, and then screamed out of frustration and loss. He let out huge, echoing sobs that had been previously contained. Would the prince even love him now?
Fauce and Marcan Part 1
Fauce had been watching his prey with attentive eyes for over an hour from behind concealing foliage. He had been provided with many opportunities to attack, but hadn't seized any of them so far. Now don’t get me wrong, he normally completed his hunts quickly; with precision and no mercy. But not this time. Fauce didn’t quite know why it was taking so long for him to strike and capture the target. Perhaps it was because this prey was very different from all the others Fauce had hunted before. None of Fauce’s previous victims had featured slightly muscled, freckled arms; none of his victims had been wearing any clothing, and certainly none of his prey had ever had a huge amount of silken tresses the color of brilliant tiger lily flowers.
None of Fauce’s previous victims had been human.
Well, this target wasn’t exactly human, either. He was half-human. A deer centaur, to be exact. From the waist up, he appeared as an intensely freckled, normal human. (Well, besides his large deer ears.) But from the waist down, the prey had the body of a fallow hued deer with pure white spots.
And no matter how many times Fauce told himself that this hunt was the same as all of his previous ones, that the creature sitting in the grove before him was probably unintelligent and couldn’t speak, he couldn’t shake the feeling that catching him for a bounty was the wrong thing to do. He sighed silently and notched his bow with a tranquilizing arrow. The beautiful deer man was sitting peacefully under the shade of maple tree with huge scarlet leaves; playing his curved, polished panflute softly and skillfully. His expressive russet eyes were closed as his slender fingers moved over the holes of his wooden instrument. Fauce noticed that he didn't have antlers, and then remembered that it was far too early in the year for them to have grown in much more then little fuzzy bumps on his head.
Fauce pulled back the bowstring into position, and was reminded of the reason that he so badly needed the money this job would give him. As he moved, the binder around his chest constricted his body, causing him to cringe a bit. Fauce needed the bounty money to finally buy the spell to change his body to match who he was inside. And if he had to capture and sell this centaur like a piece of property, he would do it. No matter how sick it made him feel inside.
The man who wanted a deer centaur was very rich and was offering more money than Fauce could even fathom. Fauce had tried to convinced himself that this centaur would be well cared for as a wealthy person’s pet, but he knew deep down that this wouldn't be the case. The less he thought about what he was doing and what he was condemning this innocent soul to, the easier this capture would be.
Fauce checked his aim, took a deep breath, and then released the tension on his bow as he let out the breath. The arrow hurtled through the air, straight and true. In the blink of an eye, it had struck its target. The deer centaur’s eyes shot open and he looked, confused, at the black arrow lodged in his arm.
“What the-?” He dropped the panflute and reached over to remove the arrow, but it was too late. The drug was fast working. His hand wavered over the shaft of the arrow as he fought against the tranquilizer, but it overpowered him and his arm dropped. The deer centaur’s eyes slid closed, his whole body became limp and he slumped against the dark trunk of the maple tree.
Fauce quickly dashed over to the sleeping form. He caught his breath when he saw that the deer man was even more beautiful up close. Constellations of freckles graced his cheeks and the bridge of his nose generously. He had soft-looking pink lips, which were delicately parted in his unconsciousness. Fierce, shapely eyebrows arched over his closed eyelids. One of them had a tiny scar, and Fauce couldn't help but wonder how it came to be. He had a diamond shaped face, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw. The deer centaur was far more lovely looking than any person Fauce had ever seen before, nevertheless a man. It was almost unearthly.
And that HAIR. Those fiery, bright, dark ginger locks were positively everywhere. They rippled in shimmering waves, surrounding the centaur’s form like a silken cape. Fauce reached out to touch the gorgeous, light-catching mane. He quickly drew his hand away, though, and chastised himself. Such lengthy and abundant tresses were inefficient and unnecessary, he told himself. He didn't really believe it, though, in that moment.
Fauce grimaced as he dragged the centaur’s slack body across the meadow, feeling awful about every rock or root his prey bumped over. He was heavy, but Fauce had a compact, very strong body for his young age. Fauce’s calloused hands gripped the deer centaur’s four ankles as he carefully moved him. The centaur’s shining locks trailed for over a yard behind his relaxed form, almost like a bridal train. Bits of neon green moss peeked out beneath places of the rust colored river of hair.
Fauce let go of him and retrieved his pack from behind the bush where he had been hiding. He pulled out a six inch by six foot canvas sack and unzipped it.
This bag was what Fauce used to transport his larger prey. The bag could easily be folded or rolled up for quick storage, and weighed and looked the same whether it was empty or full. It opened up into a large space, in a case of bigger-on-the-inside magic.
Fauce carefully pushed the centaur’s body into the thin bag, gently sliding him in legs first. Soon, the only thing left outside of the sack was all that flaming hair. Fauce scooped up the thick, shimmering mass in his arms and was astonished at how incredibly soft it was. Tiny bits of moss and a crimson maple leaf that were caught in the satiny strands only served to deepen the hair’s beauty. Almost reluctantly, Fauce tenderly guided the tresses into the bag. Careful not to catch any wayward strands of hair, he zipped up the sack. He then folded up the sack into a small square and nestled it inside of his pack. It was amazing what magic could do. Fauce couldn't even imagine dragging a giant bag with any creature bigger than a badger inside of it through the forest. In fact, the image was quite ridiculous.
As Fauce walked through the forest on his way to the path leading up to the city, he silently prayed that the future owner of this gorgeous deer man would be a kind master. And that the deep foreboding ache in the pit of his stomach would go away.
Marcan’s head was pounding and throbbing as he slowly opened his eyes.
“Ugh… What the hell happened?” He was lying flat on cold metal of some sort. Marcan didn't get up at first; just scanned the room with his eyes. It was dim and dusty and full of giant crates. A basement, maybe? But how did he get there? Marcan realized that he was looking at the room through a set of thick metal bars, and shot up into a sitting position.
So, I thought I would give some tips on taking care of long wavy hair. I can't really talk for curly, straight, or Afro-textured hair; because, well, I don't have any of those hair textures.
First off, though: Don't straighten your hair every day. Please. Do it maybe once a week, tops. Straighteners fry your hair, leaving it dry and damaged.
Another thing: hair dryers. I think they should be used only when necessary. They can also damage your hair, from the extreme heat. If you have it on the cold setting, then it won't cause as much damage. I wash my hair at night, leave it to dry a bit, then braid it overnight; as opposed to using a hair dryer.
Speaking of braiding, it's a good idea to do that at night. It can prevent split ends from forming while you sleep.
Also, don't use a brush at all unless it's a boar bristle brush, and especially don't brush it while it's wet. This leads to damage from the strands being pulled, and can make wavy hair appear frizzy. Instead, use a wide-toothed comb or pick. Start at the bottom, gradually work your way up the length, and be gentle! It leaves your waves together instead of pulled apart.
Try not to wash your hair every day. It leads to damage from overworking it. Wash every other day, and then use dry shampoo on the day in between, or just wash your roots on the day in between and not the rest of your hair. Still wash your body on the day in between! Just tie your hair up into a high bun and be careful not to get it wet.
As for when you wash your hair, use baby shampoo; it's gentle as it works. Don't use shampoo with sodium laureate sulfate, because this has been proven to cause balding. Conditioner is your friend!
Treatments that can make the quality of your hair better: Apple cider vinegar and coconut oil. In winter months, use coconut oil deep conditionings once a week to prevent dryness. In humid months, use an apple cider vinegar treatment once or twice a month to prevent frizziness.
If you want to dye your hair, be very careful. Bleach and dye can damage your hair and dry it out.
Hope this was of some use! ^^ Do you have any helpful tips to share?