[Teruko Serizawa]

She’d been seeing the same stylist for years and the b***h f***ing ghosted her. Changes salons and suddenly the lady couldn’t be a**ed to return texts or phone calls. And with how well Teruko paid her? How amicable they were? And it wasn’t like she could go to just anyone. They had taken years to get her hair this light–and in the wrong hands, those chemicals could fry your hair. Fry it! Teruko needed the help of a professional. And beyond which… the sides of her head were getting too shaggy. She needed a shave, and fast.

So, in the late hours of the afternoon– after she’d slept-off her early morning of baking cakes, but before she’d set-out to do vigilante work– Teruko had retrieved her smartphone from the bedside table, and scoured the internet for local stylists with rave reviews for their work. Preferably someone who was no stranger to alternative stylings, so that there wasn’t some lecture that came with the cut and color free of charge.

Her search turned-up fortuitous results. The gentleman downstairs, who ran the salon space next-door to her restaurant, had some pretty rave reviews. Queer friendly, quirk friendly, plenty of experience with dye and alternative hairstyles. She’d seen him numerous times, and their relationship was fairly amicable, but… strictly business. He was just a kid, and a fairly beautiful one at that. And since Teruko was quite loyal to her stylist, they’d never really had a reason to exchange anything more than polite small-talk.

Teruko flung herself from her bed, stalking towards her closet. She might as well venture downstairs, and see if he could fit her in for an appointment.

… twenty minutes later, Teruko was descending the stairs of the apartment, clad in a loose-fitting mens’ tank top, unzipped hoodie, athletic shorts, and slides. Her hair had been wrangled into a messy bun atop her head, showing-off the grown-out shaved sides of her mohawk. It was just a quick jaunt downstairs. No need to be done-up. She stepped-out onto the sidewalk with a push of the door, then bore an immediate left, towards the salon.

A bell above the door heralded her entrance– and the woman stood for a moment in the entry, her brown eyes scanning the space. It seemed… relatively unoccupied. Perhaps she should have called instead…?

"Pardon me?" the woman called reluctantly, lingering near the front desk, "Is anyone in?"

[Enda Finnegan]

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tooth fairy

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Like...

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Oh.

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My.

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God.

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Business was slow as hell, maybe it was because the place looks like a whole ass haunted house?!

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A nice lookin' one and all, but STILL!

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It was a bit of a fix-er up-er for sure, that's why he just leaned into where he could for the aesthetic to save on expenses n' costs. You know, fix what was necessary, add some decor here and there, leave it looking a little aged and disheveled since the previous tenant fucked it up for whatever reason. At least whoever gave him a chance as a client appreciated his work and wrote nicer things than he'd heard directed to him in his whole friggin' life. The excitement of being welcomed into his establishment regardless of race, gender, religion, quirk, sexuality...it was something he was happy to provide.

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Well at least it was something he could do effortlessly.

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Didn't need to put on some sort of weird ass act, no falsehood, just be himself with a layer of professionalism to who he was as a person. It's more than what he could as for, actually? Though he couldn't help but wonder why things were so much slower than usual...maybe there was an event or something going on? Running a thinly gloved hand through his dual colored locks while letting out one hell of a sigh.

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Saturn didn't need him at the agency today, didn't call on him either so maybe he could just go ahead and work on some repairs he'd been putting off? Wouldn't be a terrible idea, actually. There was that fussy, broken ice maker he'd always put off fixing in the break room...there was never a huge rush to fix it. Hell, then maybe swing by the Kaiju Cakery and try not to come off as a fanboy? The owner was hot as hell for a woman and she had a way with making delicious baked goods, too!

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Shrugging to himself as he strolled into the back, figuring he'd hear someone come in if anyone could be arsed to show up. Once he got himself to the break room he'd sometimes use as a crash pad, he squinted motherfuckingly at the broken ice maker that sat pathetically broken upon the table. Taking off his sheer gloves and throwing on a hoodie to protect his yellow, short sleeved dress shirt and buttoned up dark brown vest, last thing he wanted was to get something nice he owned all icked up! Like god forbid his pretty wardrobe gets some nasty ass stain on it, how about we just don't...that was his mentality over here. The dark brown slacks would be fine, if anything...though wait a second, maybe not!

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Quickly grabbing an apron as he grumbled beneath his breath, that's when he'd grab his tools and start taking apart the busted machine. "Alright, girl, tell me what's up and lessee if we can fix you...that or like I'll have to get a new one...bleghhh..." Grumbling to the inanimate object before poking his tongue out at the thought of dumping money into something he could fix himself. Tossing on a pair of magnifying goggles, that's when he spotted the culprit...a busted spring! "AHA! GOTCHA, BITCH! C'mere...!" Just as he was trying to wiggle the spring out to fuss with it, the door chimed and he couldn't help but grumble beneath his breath for a moment.

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They could tooooooootally wait for like...five seconds, right?

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Letting his gaze shift towards the TV that played footage directly from the security cameras, that's when he saw the beefcake who baked cakes next door looking around his shop! Fumbling the pliers that gripped upon the stubborn spring, his eyes widened with complete and utter shock as his heart raced like fast and the furious! What in the world could she want? It wasn't like she ever came to his place for like.....anything outside of deliveries...? Not that he could remember out the gate anyway, which was a damn shame cause he would love to have her as a client--and more but ya know what? She was probably into chicks, most women he was attracted to had zero time for men so he was just...going to not play the game of fuck around and find out.

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WELL UH...

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Not unless he was drunk off his ass with the slip of tongue or she made a move first.

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Not even bothering to get his sheer gloves back on, losing all his remaining brain cells in the flustered fuss panic of 2100, he scampered out of the seat and figured he'll either hunt down the rouge spring later OR just buy a new one. It wasn't that deep and either choice was a million times better than finding a replacement ice maker! The guy looked like a fashion disaster right now, but it didn't even cross his mind! The tall blonde bolted to the counter to greet the burly woman who still had juuuust enough femininity about her that she could easily rock whatever the hell sort of look she was vibing with.

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"Heeeeeeeey~! Welcome to Hauntingly Beautiful~! Sorry I was like totally taking a break, but what brings you here?" Resting one hand on his hip, he eyed her up and down then right back up before idly waggling his hand dismissively, "Is it the bad hair day? Cause like girl, if it is, I'll fix you right up. I got a whole lot of nothing goin' on right now~" He motioned toward the side of his head to emphasize he was talking more about the buzzed sides that could use a little T.L.C. After all, he had to keep his own hair-do in check, so oh boy howdy was her hair crisis relatable! Too short and it looked terrible, too long and it looked like a god forsaken yard riddled with friggin weeds!

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CHAOTIC GOOD

CHAOS GREMLIN

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[Teruko Serizawa]

Teruko leaned against the front counter, propping herself up on her elbows as she drank-in the decor of the place. It gave gothic but clean impressions–which, though unusual for a salon, really worked for the place. It also matched her neighbor’s vibe, if his usual attire was anything to go-off of. Her attention thinned as she tried in earnest to recall her neighbor’s usual attire– and what was his name, anyways? Something foreign. With “L’s” in it.

The neighbor in-question made his appearance while Teruko wandered with her thoughts, seeming rather frazzled by the woman’s appearance. Teruko straightened her posture, wondering if she’d dropped-in on a day that the salon was closed. Her eyes wandered uncertainly to the door– well, the door had been unlocked– before returning to her neighbor.

“O-oh, thank you!” Teruko said with a sheepish tone and a reluctant smile, “I was worried that I’d barged-in while you were closed–”

He cut right to the quick, before Teruko even had a chance to explain what brought her here. Wow, her hair must have been really bad for him to zero-in on it like that. But, then again, it was his trade– he had an eye for hair, the same way that Teruko had an eye for baked goods.

A laugh burst from her before she could contain it. She liked this boy– he was to the point.

“Is it that bad?” she teased, running a hand through the overgrown sides of her head.

Quick to dispel any impression of offense, Teruko gave a placating, “I kid, I kid– listen– I’ve been seeing the same stylist for a couple of years, now, and she moved salons and straight-up ghosted me. Hence… this.”

Sure, Teruko could shave the sides of the ‘hawk herself, but it was such a hassle without being able to see the back of your own head. It also did not remedy the dye touch-up.

“Can’t say I blame her entirely, though… getting this mess of hair from black to platinum is… a lot,” Teruko cleared her throat. Not that she needed to explain this to him, he probably knew better than anyone, “But, if you’re up to the task, I’d love to make an appointment–”

Surely, a stylist with such an extensive portfolio couldn’t have that much free time, right? She fully expected to get shuffled out a few weeks, perhaps even a few months, before she could be seen for the dye job.