✞[ X. ]✞ Station of the Cross

[sanctus_cineris]

 [ † ] A pair of deep virescent irises stare directly ahead into a large wallside mirror, fingers brushing very, very carefully down the sides of a bristled face. Quietly, the man shuffles to the side, inspecting the area with meticulous care. Bare shoulders lift as a well-muscled arm comes up to run powerful fingers around the length of his square jawline, holding aloft one of his smaller bayonets which he was using as a razor blade. 

A slow, steady hand runs the edge of the silver knife against the hair under his lip until the skin is perfectly bare, following up with a close line to his chin. There's a pause in his movement quite suddenly when he moves to the chin and he leans closer to the mirror, having nicked himself out of mild surprise. [ † ]

Whit....es thaet?

[ † ] Using his thumb and forefinger his face is tilted at an angle to show graying hairs lining his chin, a number also lining his side burns. He seems a little alarmed, but doesn't say anything, making a quick decision. [ † ]

E-ef thaet's goin' tae be how et es...

[ † ] A downward sweep and rather than simply trim his beard as he'd previously planned the paste of shaving cream is applied to the entire area before the feed times out. [ † ]


[ ooc: Okay, okay. Took me long enough, I know. Basically, Anderson has been aging while he's been in Discedo due to the suppression of his regenerative powers. So he shaved it all off. : > At least, all his facial hair. Poor Scotsman. Also, this is sort of back-dated to the 5th.]

Comments

[video]

[pacifyinghand.livejournal.com]

...Alexander. [her tone carries faint amusement.]

It seems your device has betrayed you again.

[stray-cardinal.livejournal.com]

Is...everything all right, Father?