[Koby is scrunching his fingers, trying to get used to the feeling of the gloves -- a texture he isn't used to, not leather or cloth, but some sort of clingy plastic -- but he pauses long enough to give Hao a flat look where he's perched on the toilet.] I dyed half my rug pink as an experiment. Yes, I'm sure.
[More or less -- fur isn't the same as hair, and the roots along the part of Hao's hair are darker than the creamy, champagne-hued rug in front of the fireplace in his room. Still, the result had been vivid, a bright, florescent, clearly artificial shade of pink that smelled faintly of lemons, so it stands to reason that it'll mellow itself out, right? Besides, if Hao keeps moping around the library, Koby's going to lose his mind.
Plus it's...a nice thing to do. Koby has his books, his quest for knowledge to keep him occupied, like Zoro has his training and Nami her maps and Sanji his cooking and Luffy the care and keeping of all of them. Hao is more of a mystery, his desires and motivations tangled up in the sharp-toothed grin that sends phantom throbs of stinging, giddy pleasurepain from that place on Koby's neck every time he sees it. He deflects, he insults, he pushes and teases, and the one thing he's expressed a desire for is hair dye, of all things.
So. Koby's finding a way. Because nobody deserves to have the one thing they ask for denied. He grabs the toothbrush he'd found packaged beneath the sink, clean and unused, the closest thing he could find to the brushes in the eight or so tutorials he'd found online, and starts mixing the conditioner with the several packets of pink powder] It's not going to kill you, you don't need to be dramatic. Hold that towel closed, though.
for me for my birfday a gift and a Treasure
[More or less -- fur isn't the same as hair, and the roots along the part of Hao's hair are darker than the creamy, champagne-hued rug in front of the fireplace in his room. Still, the result had been vivid, a bright, florescent, clearly artificial shade of pink that smelled faintly of lemons, so it stands to reason that it'll mellow itself out, right? Besides, if Hao keeps moping around the library, Koby's going to lose his mind.
Plus it's...a nice thing to do. Koby has his books, his quest for knowledge to keep him occupied, like Zoro has his training and Nami her maps and Sanji his cooking and Luffy the care and keeping of all of them. Hao is more of a mystery, his desires and motivations tangled up in the sharp-toothed grin that sends phantom throbs of stinging, giddy pleasurepain from that place on Koby's neck every time he sees it. He deflects, he insults, he pushes and teases, and the one thing he's expressed a desire for is hair dye, of all things.
So. Koby's finding a way. Because nobody deserves to have the one thing they ask for denied. He grabs the toothbrush he'd found packaged beneath the sink, clean and unused, the closest thing he could find to the brushes in the eight or so tutorials he'd found online, and starts mixing the conditioner with the several packets of pink powder] It's not going to kill you, you don't need to be dramatic. Hold that towel closed, though.