Eeeee! <3 Thankyou~ I will think of something GOOD for them. *prowls off to consider* >>
. . . NO DR. SEUSS CROSSOVERS. And because I will never finish anything ELSE on the meme, is why. :P
Possibly. >> Which he possibly MIGHT. (Of course, meanwhile Zuko's like "DDD: But we're both MEN. We--whu--IT MAKES NO SENSE ohheydothatagain. I MEAN STOP THAT RIGHT NOW. I MEAN. I MEAN. SONG TELL HIM WHAT I MEAN.")
They're kind of wicked awesome on the right heads. Scar-baring = always awesome. I do NOT like scar-hiding girl!Zuko. *does, however, like the following mental image--*
Zura combs her hair to the side, the weight awkward as its pull on her scalp changes. She styles it with careful fingers and the fine silver brush her mother left behind when she vanished from Zura's world, the one she pretends to not have kept, and she is careful, so CAREFUL to pull it just so, to conceal the scar, to part it so it covers the shaved sides of her head as well.
It's not a proper royal hairstyle and it's miles from a topknot, but it's how a normal girl might do her hair for a nice evening, if she had no suitably pretty ornaments for it.
In the three years that she has spent on this ship, Zura has gotten very good at doing it.
She brushes through her hair one last time when she is done and runs her fingers through it to make sure everything is just so. When she is satisfied that it is, she double-checks that her bedroom door is locked.
Then she takes the small hand mirror out of her pocket, the one not even her aunt knows she has, and looks.
Re: Avatar: preggers!girl!Zuko (2/2)
. . . NO DR. SEUSS CROSSOVERS. And because I will never finish anything ELSE on the meme, is why. :P
Possibly. >> Which he possibly MIGHT. (Of course, meanwhile Zuko's like "DDD: But we're both MEN. We--whu--IT MAKES NO SENSE ohheydothatagain. I MEAN STOP THAT RIGHT NOW. I MEAN. I MEAN. SONG TELL HIM WHAT I MEAN.")
They're kind of wicked awesome on the right heads. Scar-baring = always awesome. I do NOT like scar-hiding girl!Zuko. *does, however, like the following mental image--*
Zura combs her hair to the side, the weight awkward as its pull on her scalp changes. She styles it with careful fingers and the fine silver brush her mother left behind when she vanished from Zura's world, the one she pretends to not have kept, and she is careful, so CAREFUL to pull it just so, to conceal the scar, to part it so it covers the shaved sides of her head as well.
It's not a proper royal hairstyle and it's miles from a topknot, but it's how a normal girl might do her hair for a nice evening, if she had no suitably pretty ornaments for it.
In the three years that she has spent on this ship, Zura has gotten very good at doing it.
She brushes through her hair one last time when she is done and runs her fingers through it to make sure everything is just so. When she is satisfied that it is, she double-checks that her bedroom door is locked.
Then she takes the small hand mirror out of her pocket, the one not even her aunt knows she has, and looks.