Open Chronicles The Return

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Flint

The Barber
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It had felt like an age since Flint's last client had walked through his doors. With all the interesting things happening lately, he'd have not been surprised if an age had turned. The barber had taken a short hiatus from work, deciding that he needed a break from city life after his harrowing quest in the sorcerer's tomb. While the barber had always strove for the life of an adventurer, he'd found that he had a long way to come before he was ready to dive back into a hellish tomb without having his ass handed to him. Such a hiatus involved journeying into the hinterlands far beyond the city of Elbion. It meant jumping from inn to inn, and setting camps when there were no beds to find. It meant hunting down his own food, avoiding bandits and beasts. Most importantly, it provided a sense of escapism. Escape from the mundane everyday experience. Escape from fantasies of raiding tombs and hunting monsters. Escape from that vision he'd had a long time ago, and what it meant for him and the people of Elbion.

It was all over and done with now though, and the barber felt like a new man. His barber blade felt foreign in his hands at first, and the young man found himself playing around with the blade as he waited for new clients to arrive. Those remaining among his regulars had been informed of his return. Unfortunately, Old Jervis had just about lost his last few tufts of head-fur, so Flint was down at least one man more than he had been when he'd left. Benjamin Frisk had moved on from the city, and both of the Ironclad boys had died in battle. Still, he was known for his skill across the city, and Flint believed the setbacks that had been presented to him upon return wouldn't mean the death of his business.

The barber moved to his desk, ensuring his tools were in order one by one. During the process, the shop door opened, triggering the bell he'd installed just above the door-frame. A faint smile tugged at the man's lips, and he turned to face what he hoped was his first customer in months.
 
Another night of rooftop hopping and pocket swiping left him fetal positioned in an alley with little to no memory of what had occurred. He rose from his own filth and cracked several parts of his body that had been treated like garbage by his sleeping conditions.

Emery rarely often found himself feeling gross about who he was but boy. Did he feel rotten today. He looked over into a puddle of rain the Vel Anir sky had offered the concrete and was disgusted with himself for the first time in a long time. He splashed some on his face to clear the dirt.

Maybe this would be a good time to get out of town. Hell, out of region even. He'd had quite the sticky fingers the passed few weeks and his face would probably start to get recognized in this area very soon. It would definitely be best if he took a small vacation, cleaned himself up, and took another city by surprise.

He left the walls of the Allir Keep behind and began on foot. Elbion was a college town, wasn't it? A bit of a trip but that's exactly what he needed. There was probably rich idiots to rob blind and plenty of women to try and woo. His mind was made up. Elbion would be subject to this young mans sense of debauchery. He spent a good amount of time on foot following the river down. Eventually, that grew tiresome. Some poor fool found himself and his carriage passing by the young thief and then immediately found himself knocked out on a river bank with Emery now heading his vehicle.

He whistled himself a jaunty tune. He was far too satisfied with himself. The poor carriage driver had a bit of coin too. What luck! He could afford a steam bath and even a cut and shave now. What a day this was turning out to be.

---

As he finally arrived in Elbion he headed straight for the nearest bathhouse and spent far too much time in their soaking. The other patrons shifted away from him when the water was turning black from just the dirt he was caked in. He paid it no mind. Buncha yuppies to him anyway. Next was to a barber he could find. A spot appeared in his vision and he hustled himself over to it. He was still soaking wet with a towel wrapped around his head that he one hundred percent stole from the bath house. He swung the door wide to see the barber turning at his entrance.

Emery gawked for a second at the area around him and looked at Flint with a snicker.

"Bit barren in here, idn't it? You charge a fortune or somethin'?"
 
Flint wasn't sure what to make of the young man at his door. Standing close to his own height, the newcomer was clearly younger than himself, and carried himself with a gait that almost suggested arrogance. Secured to his head was an immaculate white towel, like the kind they gave out in bath-houses (Though the barber had always thought you were meant to return those).

The air carried by the opening if his shop's door held a certain floral aroma, dispelling any doubts that the young man had been at the baths. Though he himself appeared clean and refreshed, his clothes suggested nothing but the opposite. Unkempt threads, those befitting a thief or scoundrel. Perhaps the barber would want to watch out for this one.

It wasn't just the duality of Emery's appearance that caught the barber's attention. The boy had strikingly purple eyes, and Flint couldn't help but allow his attention to curiously dwell on them. This was no ordinary street-scum, that was for sure. He wondered who the young man was, and if he had any stories to tell. The barber met him with a smile.
"Actually, You'll find it hard to beat my fares, friend", The barber began, moving from behind his desk. "Apologies for the lack of ambience, but I uh... Well, I was out of Elbion for some time and I've yet to redecorate".
He came to a halt a few steps from the other man, crossing his arms behind his back, his head tilting a fraction to one side. "What can I do for you today?"
 
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"Ah well, my mistake then." His eyes wandered. It didn't seem like he retained much of what was said to him at all while he looked around. He wasn't even looking for anything to take. The words spoken from the barber were spoke in earnest, yet his appearance gave off the idea that he was of upper class. When his eyes eventually met with Flint's again he laughed uproariously. Not that he had any real reason to.

"Whaddya think it is?" He pulled the towel from his head and tossed it over his shoulder. This let a bit of moisture hit the ground without consideration. He tussled his hair and flicked at his chin. "I look fuckin' unruly, chief. Ladies don' look twice for'a man with a mug this messy. Least not the ones ya don' pay for." He let out some more arrogant laughter. It seemed as if he just wanted to fill the space with himself. His presence, his aura, would give off something a bit stranger than his personality would normally allow. It would be almost chilling. Not quite that of a killer, yet still sinister.

He peered over at his coin pouch and ruffled through it sloppily. He still had quite a bit, good news. Might even be able to buy some grub after this.

"So then a good ol' cut'n'shave, sound good? Whaddo I owe ya?"
 
The kid yanked the cloth from his head, freeing a mop of reddish locks and allowing them to fall messily about his head. Though by no means shoulder length, the young man's hair was in need of a tidying. In response to Flint's question, the other man laughed heartily. He wasn't sure what was so funny, but he was glad his newest client had a sense of humour. He'd need a bit of entertainment when he got to work.

Flint found himself returning a laugh to his guest as Emery spoke of his own hair, and how it was inhibiting his performance with the ladies. Elbion was a prosperous city, and plenty of the townsfolk could be quite snobbish and prudent when it came to hygiene and etiquette. One often had to go lengths to keep up appearances if they were to have any luck with those they desired. Thankfully, that lead quite a few men to his door. Were he to set up shop in a town of savages who were content to allow the hair to grow out of their ears, well... Well he'd be out of a job.

"I'm afraid you may find that even the courtesan's around here can be picky with their client's hairstyles", he smirked, walking to the reclining chair that sat in the middle of his shop, resting his hands on the back of the seat. "Luckily, I'm not."
There was still something about Emery that seemed... unusual. Nevertheless, Flint beckoned the man over. He was never one to turn away a client based on any kind of a hunch. "As you're cleaning yourself up in pursuit of such noble goals, I'll do it for two zoldo".
A fair price, and one he often offered first-time customers. A decent pitch for the client to return, should they be satisfied with the end service.
 
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Emery scratched at his chin with a shit eating grin planted square across his face. He'd not been one to know how the workings of any beautician worked. Be it a barber or a tailor the thief had always valued these things below coin and women. But if they were to aid him in his deception then it was only reasonable he would need to look good for the occasion. With that lingering thought he was able to convince himself he was in the presence of a genuine professional. It seemed he'd made the right pit stop.

"Yea, so I've heard about this city. Seems t'be a bit with its nose in the air if ya ask me. Bet half these jokers haven't seen real struggle. Kinda pisses me off." He scoffed while looking out a window at the passersby. Their clothing and posture gave a vibe of such a rich lifestyle. It was unlikely everyone in the city was like that but it made no difference to Emery. Someone would be losing their savings by the end of the night.

He turned back to see Flint motioning to the chair in the center of the shop and shrugged. He made his way over and took a seat. Looking up at the barber when he was settled, "So how long ya been doin' this fer? What made ya take up the razor in the first place?"
 
Emery observation of Elbion's snootery was astute. Sure, there were plenty of decent folk around town, particularly up at the college. Regardless, snobbery permeated many of the social circles, with a real sense of hierarchy and supremacy experienced when dealing with many of the locals. While the wealthy socialites held a significant level of influence over the city, Elbion was not without its genuine people. All one needed to do was call in to a local tavern. In summary, Flint could understand his customer's distaste for the citizens, but he also doubted Emery had had the chance to experience Elbion in its fullest.

"Its a different kind of struggle here", he explained. "You may witness a lot of folk doing well for themselves here, but most have had to fight tooth and nail for it." Flint held an elegant straight razor in his left hand, comb in the right. Taking stance behind the younger man, he raised both eyebrows. "Once you get there, you need to deal with the competition. You know, I've had guys try to shut this place down three times? Be it bribery, blackmail or even a damn assassin, I don't get to live in a cushy house without some ugly strings attached."

The barber was glad Emery's hair was still a bit damp. Made things easier. Sweeping the top portion of the man's hair to one side, the barber walked to face his client now, eyes narrowed. Judging by how his hair was sticking up, the barber wagered Emery slept on his side. "I've been cutting hair for all of six years now. Well, that's when my apprenticeship ended at least". Sure of how to move forward, Flint began shaving a layer off the back and sides of Emery's head, beginning with the lower ends. "Was brought up outside the city. Spent my time living rough, going through shit. Eventually I decided I wanted something better for myself, so I headed for Elbion". The barber worked slowly, but methodically. "I've always been good with my hands. Figured I'd make a decent barber. Jump forward a few years and I've made a name for myself. Even managed to sideline as a rookie monster hunter. Its nice to have a hobby".

Flint used the comb to grade the length of hair as he rose up Emery's head, aiming for a sort of fading effect. His client had a disdain for the snobs of the city. While this particular hairstyle didn't give off a thuggish look, it certainly was akin to the urban style many of the average young guys seemed to prefer.
"The name's Flint by the way, but I suppose we've heard enough about me. What's your story?".
 
The thief knew that all too well. What it meant to fight and scratch for everything one had. It was a constant in his day to day. An honest life seemed a bit too boring but that also may just be factored in by his wayward start. He never really felt like there was any other way for him to live. The world had done naught but taken from him, so he would take as he pleased. "Assassins, huh? You must give'a pretty cut if'ya got people tryna take yer head from yer shoulders." He closed his eyes and held his head still. Though dim, Emery wasn't a complete moron.

He listened intently to the regaling of Flints upbringing. There were definitely some things that Emery understood. Mostly the living rough. And the shit. It was all shit if you'd asked him. The sidelining as a monster hunter was a bit strange. He'd thought most people would take that as their forefront. Wasn't there a great deal of money to be made in bagging creatures of that nature? "Surprised to here ya chose to settle up here instead o'still bein' out and fightin' beasties."

The biggest commonality they had was the talent they had with their hands. Or at least that is what Emery thought of himself. He certainly had some of the stickiest fingers in all of Vel Anir yet it'd be a difficult task to find someone who'd agree with him. His fingers were far from his talent. He may even realize that if he couldn't outrun almost everyone who lived there.

His story, huh? "Well, it ain't nothing ya never heard before. Grew up poor. Parents didn't givea fuck what happened to me in the long run. Both dead now. Can hardly remember why." He was lying. "Been on m'own since thirteen. Makin' do with what I can. Some people hire me to grab stuff, y'know, like courier work or what have you." Another lie. No one even knew who he was. "No grand plans, I s'pose. Just a day in day out life."

Emery at that moment moved a hand gently, to not interrupt Flint, and touched the center of his chest. He almost seemed like he was in pain. Strangely enough, a breeze would be able to be felt by the barber. A short but extremely cold one. Something ghastly.
 
He stifled a laugh at Emery's comment. His skill with a blade was part of what had garnered him a bounty on his head, but it was largely due to his own big mouth. What began as a playful battle of words in a bar with one of his rivals escalated into a brawl. He'd managed to rile up a man by the name of Werner Brown, insulting his style and accusing him of scamming his clients with outrageous prices. Brown, in return, had equated Flint to the rear end of a goat, receiving a hefty round of applause and laughter from the drunken crowd. Naturally, this had elevated into a bar brawl, and Flint gave Werner a real thrashing.

Brown hadn't taken it well, though at the time Flint never could have known how badly he'd insulted his rival. A couple of days later, a hooded woman arrived in his shop, and attempted to murder him. The barber had barely made it out with his life, and had only managed an escape through interception by Elbion's guard. Another benefit to running a legitimate business in a city.
"Let's just say that I tend to run my mouth sometimes, and it gets me in some interesting scenarios. Thankfully the majority of my enemies have either been arrested or skipped town."

Thatcher made a good case for dropping the comb in pursuit of monster hunting. It was a dangerous life, yes, but Flint had always desired adventure. He could take on another man fairly confidently, but his knowledge of beasts, and his skill with the blade, still needed development before he decided to go on any real hunts. "I've got the brains to organise a hunt, I think", he told his client, working more with the comb now that he neared the upper sides of his head. "I think quick, not a bad strategist. But I need to learn more about beasts, work more at my bladework. Once I do that, maybe I'll think about hunting more.For now, barber work suits me. Life is good".

The sides of Emery's head were cut to a satisfactory degree now. He was quite happy with how things had turned out, but he needed to check in with his customer before progressing. "Sides short enough for you?", he handed the younger man a mirror, awaiting his response. "And on top? Shall I take off about an inch?".
Emery's life sounded tough. While Flint had had a troubled upbringing, he'd always had someone to support him. Sure, his uncle had been a bit of an asshole, but he taught the barber to fend for himself. It seemed like that was something Emery had to teach himself. Though the barber couldn't help be a bit skeptical of the man's 'courier' work.
"Sorry for your troubles... Say, I didn't catch your name, did I?"
 
"Stop!" she heard a man yell. Zafira rolled her eyes, pressing herself against the back of a building.

As if. What did the man take her for, a moron? Zafira clutched the gold watch tightly. She could still feel the warmth at the base of it where the man had worn it. Zafira leaned back against the building. letting out a groan. Her and her stupid, reckless actions. What was she supposed to do with this now?

Zafira examined the watch with distaste, noting how the pocket watch clicked prettily. It shone against the light, and Zafira already knew that it was worth a fortune.

Not that she desired it a bit. Zafira bit her lip, trying to think of something to do with it. At first, she had thought of giving it to some orphan or the like. They needed it, especially with the economic decline that Elbion was facing - making the rich richer. the poor only growing poorer. Zafira discarded the idea immediately when she realized that she had just stolen from one of the most powerful men in the city.

It's not like it was intentional. The man had a habit of being a power-hungry, greedy son of a bi-

She caught off her thoughts, remembering how he was leering at the other woman who looked absolutely terrified by the big, gruff man that normally no one stepped up to. It only made Zafira itch to do something to knock the smug look off his face.

And she did. In the worst manner possible. Zafira pocketed the watch in her cloak, holding it until she could find a seller who would take it off her hands. Hearing another shout along with the sound of two people's footsteps, Zafira slipped into the first store she saw only to be met with a man on a chair and another one cutting his hair.

Zafira's eyes narrowed for a moment before she heard the shouts. Quickly, she sat in the waiting chair, placing a charismatic smile on her face. "Er- I would be interested in a haircut after he's done, of course," Zafira said, her voice sweet. This place looked nothing like her normal hair stylist's place.
 
Emery held a tremendous grin while Flint spoke about how his mouth troubled him on occasion. Hoo boy how many stories the thief had about situations such as that. His taste for liquor was already an issue. At least in the eyes of others... He found it a bit charming that they both had the flaw of talking trash to those they found irritating. "Can't say I haven' bin there befo'. Sometimes ya just gotta let a fella know whats what. Can hardly blame ya fer that."

The thief had hardly dealt with monsters himself. Some ratfolk once upon a time stalked the Vel Anir slums and he found himself in more than one scrap with them as they tried to claim the area as theirs to own. Nobody owns the slums, it belonged to everyone who had their lives stripped from them or struggled every step of the way. As for big creatures though Emery wouldn't really know what to do against. He had speed, but not power. "Never bin one fer swords honest. All my enemies in dis life have been my size so nothing a kick t'the gut won't fix. Never had much combat trainin' either."

Emery looked into the mirror, but didn't really know much about what he should be looking for. He liked it. And he wasn't dumb enough to think he knew better than a professional either. "Hell, ifya think it looks good I believe it does too. Do whatcha need to, farbeit for me to tell ya how t'work."

"Name's Emry'. Emry' Thatcher."

As their conversation persisted a woman walked into the shop. She must've thought the men she encountered a fool. Emery knew the look she had on her face. One who's ran from trouble. He's lived a thief's life long enough to know when someone was in the midst of a heated escape. Not to mention she was lovely. What a day this was turning out to be for young Emery. He offered her a signature arrogant grin.

"Y'just gotta wait yer turn a bit longer, darlin'." The thief was truly shameless.
 
A more hearty laugh escaped the barber now, nodding in agreement with Thatcher. "Yeah, I suppose there's something to be said for some good 'ol fashioned assertion". He was finding this conversation to be one of the more engaging ones he'd had in the shop. It was as though Emery was a regular, and the barber felt like they should be off having a drink, rather than engaged in business. The younger man didn't seem too fussed about how the haircut progressed, so Flint made the decision. "Right. I'll tidy up the top, take a little off. That should keep the hair out of your eyes, leave you looking stylish. I'm sure the ladies will be lining up for you once I'm finished, Emery".

The bell rang for the second time that day, though was strangely accompanied by rushed footsteps and a swift closing of the door, silencing the bell within moments. The barber turned, faced with a girl around Emery's age by the looks of things. She was pale, though her hair was as dark as Flint's own. While her eyes did not hold the unique quality as Emery's violet irises, hers convey a certain sense of intelligence.

She seemed enthused to have her hair styled, which was odd. Many of Elbion's ladies would usually go to stylists who specifically styled women's hair, or just did it themselves.It wasn't that Flint had a problem taking female customers, it was just a rare occurence. Before he could greet the girl, Emery spoke up, assuring him that her wait would not be long. Flint eyed the girl for a second, raising an eyebrow. She seemed hyped up, though he couldn't imagine what for.
"I'd be happy to help. Make yourself comfortable."

Twirling his tools in hand, Flint began the process of sweeping Emery's hair backwards bit by bit, cutting a little bit off the ends as he went. All the while mindful of the blending required between the top and side portions of the man's head. As he worked, he spoke casually, and at a volume that suggested he was speaking to both Zafira and Emery. "I'll be honest, wasn't expecting to be so busy on my first day back".
Emery Thatcher ZafiraJade
 
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The men looked perplexed by her sudden entrance. Zafira chewed her bottom lip lightly. She was supposed to come in casually, as if she were meant to be here. She focused on the heavy shouts and footsteps behind her, hearing them recede and finally relaxing.

She was a criminal by no means. She just happened to get into bad situations for reasons that she thought were good. Zafira lifted the hood of her cloak off, revealing her hair that reached inches past her waist, despite the fact that it was plaited.

The first to respond was the man on the seat, a young fellow who's hair looked really good actually. He was looking at her with a smirk, and after hearing his comment, Zafira's lips curved in amusement.

"I can be patient," Zafira mused, aware of how ironic her statement was. For the most part, she was patient though. She had to, being the daughter of a physician and now an herbalist/healer.

Her eyes focused on the man who was snipping at the younger man's hair. He had a stubble, dark brows, and a relaxed posture - while he looked like he could be someone dangerous, their was an ease about him that preached the opposite. He was eyeing her with something close to suspicion though, but nothing as threatening as the gaze of suspicion held. She offered him a bright smile before turning to examine the shop which is when she realized that this was a barber shop. Specifically meant for men.

Zafira held back a noise, looking down at her hair and then the younger man's. His hair did look really good, and all she was going to ask for was a trim. Slowly, she unraveled the braid, her nimble fingers loosening the silky strands quickly.

"Today's your first day here? Welcome back," Zafira said, relaxing back on her chair. She had her own story of being born in Elbion, moving to Alliria, and then coming back.

"Where did you move from?"
 
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Emery was enjoying the mild anecdotes he and Flint were sharing. It had been quite a long time since he'd had a real conversation with someone that didn't either want him dead or want their stuff back from him. Emery was gonna leave Flint out of his sights in regards to thieving. Even the scandalous could respect a self made man. Maybe he'd even invite him out to a drink. Hell, he'd certainly know the place better than Emery. Would make scouting a target much easier as well. At the mention of his hair again he held his grin firm and did a nod light enough to not disrupt the barber. "Hey thas' all I need from ya. I'll let ya know if the haircut ends up getting me an inn room for two, eh?" He mused cheekily.

Emery's eyes would often wander towards the woman waiting on them, especially when she spoke. They were around similar age and looked as if she would be a mage some sort. He could never get used to knowing what to talk about with mages. Were they at a tavern he'd likely make a pass at her, but here his tongue wasn't as sharp. Especially while being spruced up and having Flint already make a comment about him clearly doing this for the attention of ladies. Eh, he could at least start small, he thought. "Yer hairs pretty lovely already, ain't it?" He said, neck cocked, towards Zafira. "What're ya thinkin' of doin' with it?"
 
Emery managed to draw another chuckle out of the barber, the light smile etched across his face broadening to a toothy grin. With deft hands he moved swapped out his straight razor for a pair of scissors, and began quickly snipping at the thief's hair once more. Once he was satisfied, he took both bladed tools and dropped them in a pail of water with some antiseptic herbs mixed in. It was handy, being friendly with a couple of alchemists.

Taking hold of his mirror once more, Flint held it in front of Emery, proudly admiring his own handiwork. "This to your liking?", he asked, walking around the young man so he also got a view of the sides. Many men who came for a haircut didn't care much for style, purely coming to his store for a tidy-up. He had the feeling Emery was seeking some degree of flair. Holding the mirror steady now, he looked to the girl. "I've been working here in Elbion for five years. I recently took a break and spent some time travelling. Today is my first day back from that".

Taking a brush, the barber swept hairs from his client's shoulders, before taking a step back from the chair, clasping his hands together. "And that's all she wrote, my friend".

Emery Thatcher ZafiraJade
 
Zafira pretended not to hear the comment of Emery getting a room, hiding her amused smile by moving her head to the side. She lightly twisted the bottoms of her hair with her finger, wondering how long it had been since she'd left it open. It was such a silly and girlish thought to think of - something Zafira hadn't paid mind to until this coming moment.

She'd been so busy with her shop, traveling, staying out of trouble from people who both deserved it but were powerful, and studying that she hadn't spent some time in doing something as mundane as cutting her hair. Her thoughts were pulled away by the young man's question. She offered him a smile, leaning back at the compliment. He was a lady's man - that much was evident from the way his bright eyes met her gaze and the charming smile on his face. "Thank you, Sir," She said, inclining her head slightly in acknowledgment of the compliment. "Just a trim, I think," Zafira said, turning to the barber softly.

He'd done a good job with the man's hair. Zafira didn't know how it had looked before, but now it looked clean, the front waving out, and the back perfectly shaped. It soothed Zafira slightly. She usually only went to one stylist despite constantly traveling from one place to another. "It looks good," Zafira offered.
 
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Emery looked into the mirror cocking his neck back and forth. He thought he looked pretty damn good. It was tightened up and lightly styled, not so much to make him look like he was uptight but enough to at least give off the appearance that he cared about. He nodded up towards Flint thankfully and stood up out of the seat, letting the chopped hair fall to the ground. "Aye thanks a bunch chief. Hope I might catch ya at the pub a bit later, since I'll certainly be posted up."

He turns over to Zafira and kinks his neck with another charming grin. "Offers extended to you as well. Tha' way I can see how ya hair turns out." He gave her a wink before heading for the door.

Oh shit. He stopped in his tracks. Emery almost forgot to pay on his way out. Typical of one who takes. "Whoops." He flipped around and held his sack of coins out to show that he intended to. He remembered Flint told him two, but the thief was a bit flush from ransacking the wagon driver. So he passed him four coins and a thumbs up. "Dis way I know you'll have enough for a pint, won't I?" He laughed once more with the barber.

As he said that, another voice would pass by Flint. Only Emery was close enough to make the sound but it didn't sound anything like his voice, nor did his mouth move. It was quieter, and echoed that same sinister aura that could felt by Emery's arrival. "Currency in exchange for aesthetic? Intriguing..."
 
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He nodded thoughtfully at Zafira's request. A simple trim would take moments really, and he didn't see much point in charging her a whole lot for it. Emery, on the other hand, could have covered both their cuts with the coin he handed the barber (Though not before almost 'forgetting' to pay in the first place). The barber smiled at the younger man, pocketing the currency. "Its been a pleasure. First round is on me!".

Just then, the strangest feeling came upon the barber. A faint chill slithered down his spine, as an odd voice, unlike any of those that stood in the room, remarking on his business. The barber frowned, glancing behind him to find the room as empty as he had thought it had been. Ah crap, don't tell me this place's gotten haunted in my absence.

He turned back to the others, poker face active. They hadn't reacted to the presence of another voice, so he could only assume they didn't hear it. He was certain there had been something, but he didn't want to sound crazy. He smiled at the girl. "Ready?".

ZafiraJade Emery Thatcher
 
The exchange was light, and Zafira found herself enjoying the mundane conversation. The man, Emery, as she heard from the barber, was entertaining, to say the least. Zafira hid her smile when she saw that he'd almost forgotten to pay. Standing up from the stool, Zafira moved to sit on the chair in front of the older man when she felt goosebumps rise against her skin. Zafira tensed up.

This wasn't some criminal warning or the like. Zafira was by no means an incredibly powerful witch. More times than not, she refused to use her magic, enjoying the hard work that came from doing things the way everyone else did. Her magic mostly focused on healing potions, elixirs, and the occasional moron that crossed her path.

This feeling though.....

"Sir, do you have anyone else in your shop?" Zafira asked curiously, making sure to keep her voice light. She noted how the younger man had frozen by the door. There was no point in calling danger or worry on a situation she hadn't firmly grasped on.
 
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Emery waved off Flint and gave Zafira a smooth smile before heading back to the door. Both of them noticed the presence of something else but it didn't seem like the thief had a care in the world. More than anything he looked incredibly satisfied. He pushed the door wide and stepped in the city of Elbion yet again. In the doorway, he pulled out a back of cheap cigarettes and put one to his mouth. He found the rolling tobacco to be a bit extravagant so he always went with store bought.

As he aimed to light it with a match he noticed two men approaching the store with stern looks upon their faces. They stopped in front of him.

"Excuse me sir." One spoke. "A woman passed by here who has taken something that does not belong to her. We were tasked with her retrieval, have you seen her? She has pale skin and dark hair and was likely wearing a hood." Ahhh, so that's why she'd seem so flustered when she came into the barber. He severely hoped the others couldn't hear what was going on. Flint seemed an honest man, don't know how he could see passed robbery. Helping her out might get him some good standing too, after all, Emery would never actively disappoint a woman.

"Ehh, not tha' I seen, I was th' last outta this shop too. Chief did a number on m'mop now, din't he?" He laughed as he pointed to his fresh new hair cut. The two seemed unamused.

"Well regardless, we'll both need to ask the shop keep if he's seen her." The began to press forward towards the door Emery was conveniently blocking. His back was now literally pushed up against the door off the establishment as he continued to try and sway those out front. It wasn't going very well as the conversation quickly escalated to argument outside of Flint's shop.
 
Freezing at the girl's words, Flint met Zafira with a frown. Had she heard it too? Before he could question her, his ears pricked up to the sound of commotion outside his door. Peering over his shoulder, his eyes fell on Emery, who was speaking to a couple of men. From the looks of things, the discussion was heating up.
"Hold that thought", he replied, laying down his scissors and making for the door.

His head emerged into the chilly Elbion air as the barber barked at the trio. "Pardon me, good sirs", he exaggerated regality, speaking like those upper class barbers with the sticks up their-
"I am trying to perfect the hair of one Duchess Heathersby. She demanded excellent service and a pleasant barbershop atmosphere and aesthetic", he strode out of the shop, allowing the door to slam at his back before pointing a finger at one of the guard's chests. "Now, the young man you're scuffling with here is an honest customer of mine. Not only are you ruining the Duchess' day, and thereby tarnishing the reputation of my humble business, but you also dare to insult the very decency of my good friend here". The barber quietened down, returning to his shop door and leaning against it, not taking his eyes from the guards. "Now. I am going to go back in there and try and salvage the shitshow you've just chucked through my window. So can the three of you do me a favour and settle your differences elsewhere?". Flint looked to Emery, trying to read the young man's face. Had he heard the voice too? Was he hiding something from the guards? Time would tell.

Emery Thatcher ZafiraJade
 
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Eyes meeting the barber's, Zafira knew he felt the presence - whatever it is that it was. She was about to question him about it more before she heard the sounds of shouts from outside. Zafira frowned slightly and turned to the noise just as the man walked out. From him leaving, Zafira could see the hints of the two guards who'd been chasing her from before.

Damn it.

Zafira held back a curse word, the golden watch suddenly heavy in her cloak. They were supposed to give up. They were supposed to leave to whatever hell the powerful man called Charles had created for them, and rant about it there. Zafira pressed a palm to her lips. She did not want to get the fine gentlemen around her in trouble.

Just as she was about to get out to turn herself in (just temporarily), she heard the man snap at the guards about taking care of some Duchess. Zafira bit her tongue, smothering a smile. She peeked through the blinds to see the guard's faces. They looked conflicted, troubled to bother the snobby Duchess the barber had created.

"W-we apologize for the disturbance, Sir. Just let us know if you see a woman with dark hair and a cloak," the taller one stated, passing the man a cool nod. He was trying to gather some control back. He turned on his heels, taking the shorter, confused man with him.

Zafira opened the door and stepped outside lightly, the bell ringing lightly as she leaned against it. "I don't know how to thank the both of you," Zafira said softly, eyeing both the men. She wasn't accustomed to people helping her in the city. Elbion was by no means a terrible place, but most did have the mentality of 'each man to themselves'. Anything else got people in trouble. A sense of debt filled Zafira, one she automatically wanted to expel. She owed the men in front of her which troubled her.

With a sigh, Zafira lightly tugged at the watch in her cloak. "This is what the men are after," If they asked, she'd tell them the story fully. She wasn't a petty thief, and if she was, she'd be smarter than to steal from someone in broad daylight.
 
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Emery's smile was that of genuine surprise listening to Flint lie his god damn ass off to these guards. What an absolute stud. He had a newfound respect for the barber now. Didn't expect him to be the type to bite at authority and that ALWAYS sat well with Emery Thatcher. As they turned tail he waited til they were out of view and gave Flint a bunch to the shoulder. Firm, but not a swing. "Would ya lookit that? Haircutter's got quite the pair on em. You stay lyin' to all the kings men then?" He laughed again with nary a breath between his hucks.

He started to gain composure as Zafira started to speak again. Couldn't make a complete fool of himself in front of the lady. He took a deep breath. "Don' think twice about it, doll. Can't stand to watch a pretty face meet the brig. And ya can even 'old your own witha' bit of tongue twistin'. Nice follow up. " He said with a wink.

She then revealed a pocket watch of whoa. Solid gold. "Wheeeeeew." He whistled sharply. "That'd fetch ya a pretty penny, now wouldnit'? No wonder ya snagged that. Those geezer's got 'nuff linin' their pockets. They can spare a watch or two I say." He eyed the thing with wonder. That couldn't have been an easy snatch. Pretty, lied to authority, and thieving? Emery was beginning to feel smitten.
 
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Flint was surprised to find himself in the presence of one (if not two?) thieves, though he supposed he had taken steps to defend Zafira. She seemed supremely grateful, which lead the barber to believe thieving wasn't a regular gig for her. Flint shrugged her off, looking over Emery's shoulder to ensure the guards really were after leaving. "Let's just say first round's on you, eh?".

Satisfied the king's men had left, the barber examined the watch Zafira had snagged. It was a nice piece, the kind that someone would miss. The slightest tinge of guilt tugged at the barber's heart, though he tried to ignore it. Theft was a regular part of life in Elbion, and not all thieves were scoundrel's. He didn't quite agree with Emery's position that the watch wouldn't be missed. Some things held sentiment. Rich people could hold things dear too. Not that he was taking any sides.

"So, what's the plan? Off to the black market? Or have you some other use for the watch?"
Emery Thatcher ZafiraJade
 
Zafira felt terrible for making the honest-looking barber lie.

Emery didn't seem to mind it at all though, cracking jokes and easing the tension around them. Holding the pure gold watch in her pale hand, Zafira couldn't get over how recklessly stupid she'd been. There could have been other things she could've done. Dumped a drink on him. 'Accidentally' trip him if he were dancing. But the problem was, Zafira had been thinking.

She'd thought of the way men like her had robbed honest working people like her father who was a physician. She'd wanted to see men like the one she stole from feel it. Even if it was just for a moment. And now the entire thing had come to bite her in the arse at the expense of the two gentlemen in front of her who had helped. At Flint's question, Zafira bit back a frustrated noise.

"I don't want it," she said, staring at the watch with distaste. "I don't want to benefit from it, and I can't give it to anyone without them facing terrible repercussions for it." she turned to the boy her age who seemed to know about these things. Intriguing, she thought, curiously sizing the man up with a newfound curiosity.

"Do you have any suggestions on how to dispense of such an object?"
 
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