Marquise de VanDyke
Jul. 12th, 2003 06:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
feldmanHola! I still can't think of a non-crappy title for this one, so for now it has none.
Drabble on the Subject of Shaving
Small fingers comb through his beard.
No curious child with dusky hair and dark blue eyes, no dream to pass the time while the still dripped out another batch of nepenthe. The fingers are real, the large cat eyes blink with consideration before Rygel clicks his tongue and speaks.
"Crichton, hair is for decoration, not concealment."
John tickles the sparse whiskers in the Dominar's chin. "You're jealous."
"No, I'm simply curious." Rygel steers around to John's other side and hovers closer. "Did you grow that thing to keep you company, like on Acquara?"
"I didn't have a razor. The only blade I could find was serrated, and I was saving that for my wrists. You wouldn't happen to have anything I could shave with? I'm sobering up and this thing itches like a sombitch."
"Heh. Might as well go to your grave well-groomed." Rygel leans over the side of his chair and releases a small drawer. He sorts through brow combs, pots of hair stiffener and skin gloss, implements as menacing and unwieldy as an eyelash curler. He gathers a few items in his lap and closes the drawer. He hands a piece to John.
The mulberry colored handle is warm like amber and chased with the mellow sheen of platinum. John opens it and tests the stout blade with the pad of his thumb. The edge feels silky and indistinct, but sharp as panic. "Straight razor. This is going to be a challenge."
"A Dominar is always prepared for treachery." He draws himself up and delivers the next bit with a smile. "All of my personal grooming tools can double as weapons."
"Frog. James Frog." John contemplates the razor. "Back on Moya I had a little PK tool. Thing was like a Ron Popeil wet dream come true; it shaved, it had a pop out scissors, it had six different length settings to buzz hair. Had some bad hair days getting used to it, but--"
Rygel barks a laugh, nearly costing John a thumb. "That Luxan owes me!"
"Jesus, Rygel!" John takes a cleaning breath, tucks the blade back into its holder. "What are you talking about?"
Rygel unscrews the lid off a blue pot the size of a teacup. "D'Argo thought you were using a pulse pistol to cut your hair." He sniffs the contents and blinks regally. "I maintained that the fact you still had a head belied that theory."
"Nice."
"Clip down that nasty patch of negnik fur beforehand, or you'll dull my blade." Rygel hands him a gold pair of scissors that come to a dagger point.
John can only fit the tips of his fingers into the small scissors. "When I get my hands on that little PK pocket barber I'm going to put it in my pocket and never leave it anywhere."
"A better resolution would be, in future, to do all of your pouting inside the ship."
Drabble on the Subject of Shaving
Small fingers comb through his beard.
No curious child with dusky hair and dark blue eyes, no dream to pass the time while the still dripped out another batch of nepenthe. The fingers are real, the large cat eyes blink with consideration before Rygel clicks his tongue and speaks.
"Crichton, hair is for decoration, not concealment."
John tickles the sparse whiskers in the Dominar's chin. "You're jealous."
"No, I'm simply curious." Rygel steers around to John's other side and hovers closer. "Did you grow that thing to keep you company, like on Acquara?"
"I didn't have a razor. The only blade I could find was serrated, and I was saving that for my wrists. You wouldn't happen to have anything I could shave with? I'm sobering up and this thing itches like a sombitch."
"Heh. Might as well go to your grave well-groomed." Rygel leans over the side of his chair and releases a small drawer. He sorts through brow combs, pots of hair stiffener and skin gloss, implements as menacing and unwieldy as an eyelash curler. He gathers a few items in his lap and closes the drawer. He hands a piece to John.
The mulberry colored handle is warm like amber and chased with the mellow sheen of platinum. John opens it and tests the stout blade with the pad of his thumb. The edge feels silky and indistinct, but sharp as panic. "Straight razor. This is going to be a challenge."
"A Dominar is always prepared for treachery." He draws himself up and delivers the next bit with a smile. "All of my personal grooming tools can double as weapons."
"Frog. James Frog." John contemplates the razor. "Back on Moya I had a little PK tool. Thing was like a Ron Popeil wet dream come true; it shaved, it had a pop out scissors, it had six different length settings to buzz hair. Had some bad hair days getting used to it, but--"
Rygel barks a laugh, nearly costing John a thumb. "That Luxan owes me!"
"Jesus, Rygel!" John takes a cleaning breath, tucks the blade back into its holder. "What are you talking about?"
Rygel unscrews the lid off a blue pot the size of a teacup. "D'Argo thought you were using a pulse pistol to cut your hair." He sniffs the contents and blinks regally. "I maintained that the fact you still had a head belied that theory."
"Nice."
"Clip down that nasty patch of negnik fur beforehand, or you'll dull my blade." Rygel hands him a gold pair of scissors that come to a dagger point.
John can only fit the tips of his fingers into the small scissors. "When I get my hands on that little PK pocket barber I'm going to put it in my pocket and never leave it anywhere."
"A better resolution would be, in future, to do all of your pouting inside the ship."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-07-13 12:55 pm (UTC)"I didn't have a razor. The only blade I could find was serrated, and I was saving that for my wrists. You wouldn't happen to have anything I could shave with? I'm sobering up and this thing itches like a sombitch."
"Heh. Might as well go to your grave well-groomed." Rygel leans over the side of his chair and releases a small drawer. He sorts through brow combs, pots of hair stiffener and skin gloss, implements as menacing and unwieldy as an eyelash curler. He gathers a few items in his lap and closes the drawer. He hands a piece to John.
The mulberry colored handle is warm like amber and chased with the mellow sheen of platinum. John opens it and tests the stout blade with the pad of his thumb. The edge feels silky and indistinct, but sharp as panic. "Straight razor. This is going to be a challenge."
I'm not even supposed to be here - I just popped in to edit and post but I got sucked in and couldn't resist reading this. The attention to detail makes all the difference, and I love the last line.
no subject
Date: 2003-07-14 05:34 am (UTC)And I'm touched that we're your playing-hooky-ground!
Re:
Date: 2003-07-14 09:51 am (UTC)