entranceway | o8 | tryin' to holla at me

[D'Artagnan's not entirely sure why it took him so long to notice. He's been here a year-- more, in fact-- and the ponytails he's been putting his hair in have only gotten longer and longer. Maybe it's when he realizes that his hair is nearly halfway down his back that he has a problem. And that problem is that his hair is too long and too unruly to really take care of properly anymore.

He can hardly cut it himself. So.

D'Artagnan's face appears on the network, looking as it usually does, and his hair pulled into a bun at the back of his head. Still much too long.]

So.

[There's an awkward pause. D'Artagnan looks away from his device and then back to it, letting out a breath. Nerves.]

I've been here more than a year, and it seems I've neglected to ah, groom myself, in that time. [Not the best way to put it, he knows, but it'll be worth it. Maybe.]

So, if there's anyone here who, ah, may be able to help with the length of my hair? I'd be grateful. It seems my swordsmanship doesn't extend to scissors.

[One last, awkward clearing of his throat and then he clicks it off.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Look who's bright and chipper and behaving as though the last four months of angst never happened. Who can be angsty when D'Art's got an adorable man-bun.]

Aw, I thought the long hair was working for you. You have a dashing romantic hero thing going on.

[Oh. D'Artagnan blinks at the screen a moment. It's been a long time since he's seen Luke, even longer since he's seen him properly, and not...as a zombie, or something. Except the last time he saw Luke before the zombie event, they'd-- or, Luke had kissed him. Right. Which, it's not a thing that D'Artagnan thinks about a lot, but maybe just sometimes. It's all very confusing, honestly, and why wouldn't it be? Having your friend kiss you and then having to kill them a few weeks later and then not speaking to them for a month or more. Confusing.

He manages a smile, though, because this won't be awkward. It won't. Especially since Luke seems to be willing to overlook the fact that D'Artagnan had driven his blade into his skull. So. Right. Yes.]

Is it? I'm not sure. It's getting a bit difficult to wash.

[And Luke carries on as though nothing has happened. He's come to terms with the fact D'Artagnan has no interest in him. It was one of the last things Clara was able to convince him of before she, well, before she left for wherever she is now. Not death. Clara's probably not dead. Not to mention having a boyfriend(??maybe?) who's very into him helps with managing his starry-eyed admiration.

And as far as he's aware, his adventures in zombie prison world were over the moment something tore his neck out with its teeth, so there's no reason for him to make D'Artagnan think he's not cool enough to survive an apocalypse.]

I think that's an integral part of looking cool. That and a kilt. You don't wanna look too girly.

I'd really rather not wear a kilt, if it's all the same to you.

[Hello, he's French. He can't very well go running around in a kilt. Athos would have his head, probably.]

How, ah. How have you been?

[He shrugs, with a grin that suggests he can't be held responsible if D'Artagnan doesn't want to take his amazing fashion advice.]

Good, yeah. Really good. Had a few rough days, but nothing serious. What about you, what've you been up to?

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