#curseborn

Facial hair

Whether men grow facial hair as a matter of course depends on the region and whether they’re energos or ministra. In the Midlands and Forestlands and court, all men are expected to be clean-shaven. In the Flamelands and Mountainlands, it's expected for male energi to grow facial hair, but not ministra. In the Coastlands, it's generally acceptable for male ministra to grow facial hair. In the Heathlands, regardless of caste, older men will usually wear some light, carefully tended facial hair.

Kestrel grows facial hair quickly and a lot of it. He prefers a stubbled look because it requires minimal tending. After leaving court, he becomes determined to grow a beard like Aurent has. He and Aramy have lots of fights about it but eventually Kestrel wins.

Aramy is physiologically incapable of growing facial hair, an effect of his Ahui blood. He's lucky to have eyebrows as a matter of fact. He doesn't mind as he finds facial hair ugly.

Carnelio could grow a big long curly beard, as some male Azeds historically have had, but since facial hair isn't the current fashion at court, he doesn’t even consider it.

Dracen can grow a beard with little effort, but keeps clean-shaven due to court convention. His facial hair grows darker than his head hair, so he doesn't like it because he thinks it looks messy.

Ilya didn't need to shave until he was like 19, and even now it'll take him about half a year to grow a few scraggly chin hairs. Not that he'll ever let it progress to that point. He makes a big show out of shaving every day (despite not needing to) because he views it as a sign of manliness.

Mato shaves regularly. According to Heathlander custom, he isn’t yet old enough to wear permanent facial hair, but in the future (as in by Curseborn’s time) he probably has a little neat mustache.

Alexandir would probably rock a van dyke and goatee. But again, convention keeps him clean-shaven. Ditto for Euthymius.

Aurent and sorcerer men in general like their thick, full beards. He’s where Kestrel gets his hairiness, after all.

If left unshaven, Terl can grow a scraggly mustache. He hates the look of it so he shaves regularly.

Jessam hasn’t started shaving yet, and won’t ever consider having facial hair.

Heron is a doll so will not ever have facial hair.

Ophiant was probably once capable of growing facial hair, but has lost that along with any of his body hair. Somehow, he still manages to keep his head hair.

Rhynan can grow this weak pale little thing, and probably thinks he looks good with a small goatee, but Loni firmly disagrees. Anyway since he's dyeing his hair black he's not allowed to grow a blond beard.

Alisdair was not old enough to wear permanent facial hair when he committed the massacre, and now he keeps clean-shaven as a prisoner.

Aramy was still dizzy with euphoria as he headed down the covered walk. The entire day had felt like a dream, from the moment he had awoken at dawn and followed the Head Confessor to the catacombs where the king traditionally prayed before his coronation.

The king. His coronation.

A  small smile curved up Aramy's lips. He could still hear the cheering of the crowds, could still picture in his head how they had all bowed before him, thousands from all over Senero and the lands beyond. And more than anything, he felt the weight of the crown on his head, solid and comfortable like it had always belonged. At last, everything he'd worked for had finally come to be. Aramy couldn't even begin to process it.

So he didn't; he just walked, his long train sweeping out behind him. This was the first moment he'd ended up alone today, for a given value of alone - as he knew guards moved silently in the shadows around and behind him. Not even Kestrel was there, since he'd gone on ahead to check the next stage of the coronation, the Shell Pavilion, for hidden threats.

It wouldn't last long. Soon he'd put on his public mask again and give another round of speeches and entertain the nobles and foreign dignitaries at the coronation ball. For now, though, he cherished this brief chance to just hear himself think, to let himself breathe. To let the reality of it all sink in.

I am the King of Senero.

The thought was too big for him to touch - it made his head spin. He picked up his pace, as fast as he could in these heavy robes. Had to get to his chambers, change into a lighter set for dancing. Take it piece by piece, step by step.

Then a voice called from behind, "Hey, Aramy."

Not Kestrel's - it was sharp and quick. Familiar. Aramy whirled and saw Ilya standing behind him, hands on his hips and a small smile tugging at his black-painted lips.

"Excuse me?" Aramy said, not entirely sure if he had heard correctly. If he wasn't mistaken, Ilya had just...called him....

Ilya tilted his head. "Been a busy day, huh? Just wanted to make sure you aren't too overwhelmed."

With a snort, Aramy turned away. "Thank you for the concern, but it is most assuredly not needed. I'm not a child on his name day, for First's sake."

"I suppose not," Ilya said, his tone light. He fell in step beside Aramy, seemingly intent on accompanying him the rest of the way.

"By the way," Aramy said, casting Ilya a sidelong glance, "what did you just call me?"

"Hmm? Aramy. Your name, you know." Ilya's tone was innocent enough, but he couldn't hide the shit-eating grin on his face.

"I don't recall giving you permission to be so familiar with me," Aramy sniffed.

"Well, I thought, it's only the most logical," Ilya said, folding his arms behind his head. "Can't very well call you Lord Basquiale anymore, can I? It wouldn't be proper."

His eyes sparkled. Oh, so he wanted to make fun of Aramy? Well, Aramy wouldn't give the little fool the satisfaction. "You know exactly what would be proper, don't you?" he said, lifting his chin to glare down at Ilya.

"No way," Ilya said cheerfully. "I promise you, I'm never going to call you 'Your Majesty' for as long as I live. So Aramy it is. Do you have a problem with it?"

Aramy's first instinct was to snap that yes, he most certainly did, but he figured that was the exact reaction Ilya was fishing for. And really - the thought brought him up short - did he even want Ilya to call him 'Your Majesty'? He couldn't even imagine Ilya saying it without obvious sarcasm or distate, and indeed he might find it legitimately terrifying if Ilya spoke the title with real respect.

Hearing Ilya call him by name was strange, to say the least - very few people ever did. Indeed, with Jessam gone, it was only Kestrel. It should have bothered him. He and Ilya weren't friends. But at least Ilya said it with sincerity, the same disarming casualness that must have been born from his days on the streets. After an entire day of people bowing and addressing him as "Your Majesty," it was almost...refreshing.

What was Aramy thinking? He was the king; he deserved respect from all of his subjects. Except Ilya was the type who only bowed his head to those he chose to, and if Aramy forced him, it might create a rift between them even bigger than the one that had put them on opposite sides of a war these past five years.

They  were finally working together again, and Aramy had to admit he much preferred this over fighting.

So he tossed his head and said, "Suit yourself. However, I believe in addressing people by their proper titles, Raven King."

Ilya let out a sharp hiss. "That's not who I am."

"Would you prefer Raven Duke?" Aramy couldn't help smirking at Ilya over the side of his hand.

So got an excellent look at Ilya's wide-eyed, offended expression. But it didn't last long; soon, the Raven King's characteristic half-smile quirked across his face. "Yeah, no, I don't think so. Hey, turn here. Wouldn't want to get lost on your coronation day, would you?"

"Of course," Aramy said with a solemn nod. "I'll need your help to refamiliarize myself with the palace, Raven King."

"Any time, Aramy." The cheeky bastard even accompanied it with a wink this time. Aramy had to suppress the sudden, very unbecoming urge to laugh.

Nonetheless, something lighter than euphoria rose within him as he walked with Ilya toward his quarters. His reign had just begun, but already he felt like he and Ilya had been doing this for a lifetime. A good sign - a king could get nothing done without loyal advisors by his side, after all.

And if the advisor was the impertinent sort who always had to speak his mind, all the better.

~*~