[It was after they returned from that strange, neon-coloured beach island that Byleth finally admitted defeat over his hair.
The nails growing into claws was an issue he would stoically endure until his dying days - that was an easy fix, as this place sold the very convenient tool called a 'nail clipper', which meant the task took less than five minutes. It was something he easily kept from Yuri too, which how often he wore gloves and how they were both still quite independent, coming and going from the house to go their own thing. The fingernails turning into claws as a manageable war that Byleth was confident in waging. It wasn't a problem.
The hair, though.
Perhaps it was his Nabatean lineage, or maybe it was just how the Discord was manifesting, but his hair wasn't an easy five minute fix with a very sharp dagger. Even as careless as he was about his looks, he knew better than to just haphazardly hack at it - he did try to cut it into a straight line at least... the problem was that his hair was tough. As in, he didn't cut his hair with a dagger so much as he sawed it. And to ensure it remained neatish and didn't look like he got mauled by a hedge-trimmer, the whole process took an hour at least to complete. Very hard to hide from Yuri.
So, he didn't bother, really, but he didn't really invite conversation or assistance as he stoically worked on his hair one muggy evening either. He was sat on his sofa set up in front of the fire pit, a mirror balanced on a cushion as he had a fistful of hair in one hand, and a sharp dagger in the other, determinedly sawing back and forth as it slowly cut through the surprisingly tough locks. It was taking a lot of arm strength here, and Byleth - despite the slim arms - was not weak upper body wise either.
Maybe he could repurpose some of this hair...? He did save what he cut off, just in case he ever needed use out of it, but he couldn't help but wonder if it could be woven together to make nigh-indestructible thread, or repurposed into emergency bindings or something. He just won't tell anyone it was made out of his hair...]
Late Warqu (August)
The nails growing into claws was an issue he would stoically endure until his dying days - that was an easy fix, as this place sold the very convenient tool called a 'nail clipper', which meant the task took less than five minutes. It was something he easily kept from Yuri too, which how often he wore gloves and how they were both still quite independent, coming and going from the house to go their own thing. The fingernails turning into claws as a manageable war that Byleth was confident in waging. It wasn't a problem.
The hair, though.
Perhaps it was his Nabatean lineage, or maybe it was just how the Discord was manifesting, but his hair wasn't an easy five minute fix with a very sharp dagger. Even as careless as he was about his looks, he knew better than to just haphazardly hack at it - he did try to cut it into a straight line at least... the problem was that his hair was tough. As in, he didn't cut his hair with a dagger so much as he sawed it. And to ensure it remained neatish and didn't look like he got mauled by a hedge-trimmer, the whole process took an hour at least to complete. Very hard to hide from Yuri.
So, he didn't bother, really, but he didn't really invite conversation or assistance as he stoically worked on his hair one muggy evening either. He was sat on his sofa set up in front of the fire pit, a mirror balanced on a cushion as he had a fistful of hair in one hand, and a sharp dagger in the other, determinedly sawing back and forth as it slowly cut through the surprisingly tough locks. It was taking a lot of arm strength here, and Byleth - despite the slim arms - was not weak upper body wise either.
Maybe he could repurpose some of this hair...? He did save what he cut off, just in case he ever needed use out of it, but he couldn't help but wonder if it could be woven together to make nigh-indestructible thread, or repurposed into emergency bindings or something. He just won't tell anyone it was made out of his hair...]