"Just a little off the side, sir?"

[The Mentalist]

Take a look.

Listen up.

2011 isn't an easy time. To get by in business, it takes all sorts of dirty tricks.

In a backstreet of London, there is an elusive and remote barber-shop in the darkest part of Fleet Street known only to those who have stumbled across it. Growing it's reputation from the few strangers who wandered in, Demon's Barber is known for it's alternative styles. For those involved in sub-culture lifestyle, it's a must have.

However, the appointments there are few and far between. Not much is known about the three stylists who work there- not even their names. The only thing known is that the manager is the best of the three. His haircuts are killer. Quite literally.

One by one, people who've made appointments have slowly dropped off the radar. They have just disappeared. Without a body and not even a name to go by in the shop, the police have given up trying to find the culprit. It's clear that no-one of this earth could manage something like it.

Business isn't the same anymore. Don't bother watching your wallet, watch your neck.

It was late. 00:00am. They should have been back at their flats, at a gig or out drinking. Anywhere else doing anything else but being there.

Two students walked on the subway platform, clutching tickets. They muttered quietly to one another, constantly checking the dirt clock on the tiled walls. The white tiles had already been stained with the night- the color of vomit and the stench of alcohol. The ends of their long trousers swam in it.

As they paced uneasily, both the students heavy leather boots splashed in the night water. The buckles clanked off of one another, the their knee length black leather jackets following close behind, swishing in the tiny breeze. Both of them had hair just as long, jet black, goggles keeping it off their face. Dark gray lenses sat on their foreheads.
Their blacked-out eyes glared round the platform. Funny looks from every direction, a gang of drunk youths laughing at them. One muttered to the other,
"How long?"
His voice was full of nerves. The others was exactly the same.
"Five minutes."
"Got the directions?"
"Yeah. We burn them when we get there. That's how we get in."
They paused. Both walked back to each other, taking another glance round the platform to the call of 'Gothhicaaaa!!! Deeemon hugggger!' and other amusing insults they'd heard before. They were patiently waiting on the subway, both reciting the directions to one another, in the hope that they'd remember them.
Get on at the King's, pass five stops, wait for the sixth. Get off. Walk up and out. Take a left and walk for 500 meters. Take a right and walk for a mile. No taxi's. When at 4th Cross, go down the side street. Weave through the buildings. Knock on number 78, the first door. Wait.

They had little bat demons flying in their stomachs. It was a real journey and experience ahead of them. It was a hair appointment: both had one. Just a hair cut. But it was the salon- the place and the artists, they were the big deal.

Demon's Barber could do anything you wanted them to. Their customers stressed that. If you wanted dreadlocks, that was simple. If you wanted spiky luminous hair, not a problem. If you wanted a style you could only draw on paper, they could make it a reality. Anyone who came back with a cut from there sang the shops praise and looked awesome. The cuts were expensive and the appointments were late, only in the dead of night, and only those who had friends who'd been there, or stumbled across it themselves could get in.
You didn't get to pick who cut your hair either. No-one had a name. No-one knew their names. You showed up, you got it cut by whoever would take you. Each cut had a certain flair, a signature of sorts to say who it was from, but that was all that was identifiable. You prayed you got the manager- but his cuts were few and far between. He wasn't the best of people to work with either...

The two students played with their tickets and appointment cards as they waited on the subway. The two were full of nerves, wondering just what was ahead of them. The clock struck 5 minutes past and the students stepped forward, to meet the incoming train, it's lights dancing on the tracks ahead of them. It pulled up.

They got on and grabbed some seats, near to the door. They both sat in the nearly empty carriage. There was only a young lady sitting near the other end. They smiled pleasantly at her and were ignored. It was only to be expected. They nearly jumped out of their skin when a man walked in front of them and took the seat opposite them. He must have got on right behind them.
They watched him as the subway pulled away, the lights flickering. He didn't acknowledge them.

He could only have been about 30. He was dressed in a full black suit, a heavy winter jacket on top of it. The top button was undone, the white buttons that were lined down the front with red thread. He had a pair of dice cuff links on his sleeves and each dot was a skull. As he stretched back and leaned on the armrest, he put a small, old briefcase on the chair next to him and looked ahead, out of the window. They noticed his neck was covered in scars of all sizes, whited out with age. His blue eyes glared forward, in a contrast to his bright orange hair and matching stubble. His hair was slicked back and he looked as if he was in a mood.
Both students turned to one another and said in unison,
"Businessman."

[The Observer]

In the dark cold streets of London at this hour there were certain kinds of people who venture out at this time. Party animals, drunks, drug dealers and creepers. Yet a certain young man who looked to be entering his mid twenties wandered the streets who did not fit into any of these groups of people.

He walked around bright blue eyes wide with wonder he spun around a few times in a full 360 in order to see all around him. In his own little world he walked he just about missed being hit by a car after walking into the street. The driver spewed out a few curses and insults at him. Oblivious he smiled at the man and waved at him saying a cheerful "Hello!"

Yelling out one last insult the man drove off down the street leaving the young man to his exploring. He stuck his face on shop display windows squinting to look inside, counting the seconds between the light from changing from red to green and also staring intently at the pigeons that were dining on the remains of a salted pretzel.

He acted as though he were not from Earth...well that was true but that is a story for a different time to tell.

Strolling down a few more blocks he found a subway staircase. Putting his hands on the cold metal he leaned over to hear the on coming train. Of course his nature made him lean over a bit more sending him toppling down the stairs to the platform. Groaning in pain he sat up just in time to see the train pull in.

Looking down at himself at his own clothing he found that his fall had caused his black dress pant to become filthy with dirt, his white dress shirt as well it became wrinkled. The black vest he wore over it had a few buttons undone and his tie had loosened now hanging over his shoulder. He looked like a wreck!

Having nothing better to do at the moment he got up and stepped onto the train to find it almost empty save for a few other people in the cart. He fell into one of the seats looking around a bit before letting out a soft sigh and letting his head rest against the window.

[Douglas Aubrecht/Joshua Carter]

Waiting patiently at the next stop were two young lovers, huddled together. A man and a young woman stood next to one another, their arms round each other, holding subway tickets.

The younger of the two was being laughed at by some others on the platform. The group of tipsy and half dressed girls pointed and laughed at her. She didn't care what they looked like, it was the fact they were making fun of her that really annoyed the girl. She was wearing a long black jacket, heavy industrial boots, black jeans, matching t-shirt, one glove on her left hand and a thin cross round her neck. Half her face was covered with her long brown hair and the other eye was glaring at them. Her pupils were dilated, her scowl was heavy and her patience was wearing thin; she'd definitely consumed some amount of narcotics.

She was about to lash out at them, when her young lover placed his hand on her head and turned it round, into his body. He held her close and stroked her head, calming her. The rowdy bunch of girls kept calling her names but they tried to flirt with him, passing comments he found horrid.
"Why are you with that freaaakk?? Youu should come with usss!"
He sighed, noticing his girlfriend getting a bit upset. He soothed her more.
"C'mon baby, do not listen to them. I love you, you know that. Just you hug me, we will be at the hotel soon."
The tipsy girls laughed at his heavy accent. They proceeded to make fun of it, calling him all sorts of names related to being German or Russian. He ignored them but his hyped up girl didn't. She snapped at them, her New York accent and attitude showing through.
"Are you guys going to shut up now.. OR AM I GOING HAVE TO COME OVER THERE AND SHUT YOU UP?"
He grabbed her head and shushed her again, trying to lead her away from the aggravating girls.

He manged to get her further down the platform and noticed her looking up at him. She cuddled right into his chest, a hand coming up to play with his shoulder length brown hair. He could feel her hand brushing against his tidy bear and mustache, her own brown eye gazing into his two. She huddled into his white t-shirt and jeans and he flashed a grin at her, holding her back.
5 minutes until the train pulled in.
He smiled as he heard her speak, even though she was a little drugged up. Her new medication was just a bit too strong. She slurred her way through a mini speech.
"What would I do without you ... honestly, I don't think I'd do too much... I know you love me, I love you too Doogie. My Duggy-wuggy. My Douglas."
He couldn't help himself; he loved the way she said his name. The two were so in love, it was verging on sickening.
"I know you know. My Gunny, My Gunman..."

He took a quick glance up at the clock as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
3 minutes to go.

[Alec Harrison]

Alec couldn't believe he'd gotten the directions. He knew he wouldn't just walk in- the area probably wasn't used to things appearing out of nowhere, and men stepping out. So he was taking the train. He waited outside of it- there wasn't too much of a crowd. In his line of vision only two appeared. They seemed deeply in love, and the Timelord smiled, though on the inside he knew he didn't have anyone like that. 
    He needed a hair cut. His hair was getting beneath his ears, and if he looked up, he could see his bangs. And he heard these people were the best. 
    There was a bit of an in-joke, though it was more something to identify others going to the Demon's Barber shop. Ironically, it was flashing them the peace sign- two fingers. Alec cleared his throat directed to the two, in an attempt to get their attention.
    Behind his back he rose his index and middle fingers. He thought it was ridiculous, but the shop would kick you out if you revealed their existence in public, and Alec wasn't taking any chances.
     The customary response was to return four fingers, all but the thumb. Alec would seem like a drug dealer (despite that it seemed like the female had taken one drink too many) or some insane freak.

[The Observer]

Very first ride on a train.

Boring...

Very, very boring.

He came to this conclusion about 10 minutes after sitting down in his seat. There was nothing to do or see. The windows provided no scenery which disappointed him greatly. Also he found out resting his head against it was not the best idea in the world. His head had made good friends with the glass surface due to the movement of the train.

In response he let out a pained whine which caused a few glances from the other passengers in the car. He gave a weak smile and nervous laugh then he quickly looked down at his lap embarrassed. A few moments later the feeling of being bored was soon replaced with the feeling of loneliness. It tugged at his hearts making a frown slowly form on his face. He had the right to feel this way...right?

His home planet was gone, his friends were gone, his family as well...even his only means of transportation was gone from his life...yeah he had a right to feel the way he did. Yet self pity will get you nowhere as his mother use to say. The universe moves on and so he will have to move on too.

Trying to take his mind off depressing thoughts he thought of some way of how he could entertain himself. He reached into the pocket of his pants taking out a crumpled piece of bright pink paper he was given to by a girl on the street. It was a fl yer for some fancy beauty salon...why would she give in a fl yer to a salon for women anyways? Shrugging it off he read it about 20 times before thinking to stop at a barber shop to get his hair done.

Maybe have it styled or something. Maybe even get it dyed a funny color like alot of people he saw walking about. He started to fold the paper into the shape of an airplane. He admired his work a bit before throwing it planning for it to only go a short distance but instead the little craft flew farther then intended hitting one of the others. Face now red he sank deeper into his seat wishing he had just let himself brood.

[Douglas Aubrecht/Joshua Carter]

Douglas smiled on the platform, playing with his 'babies' hair. He found it therapeutic. It was strange. wrapped it around his finger and let it run over his skin. She grinned up at him, tugging at his beard.
It was too heavy, there was too much hair. He really needed it cut...

His attention was taken when a man on the platform coughed. Watching his movements for a second, he saw the man raise a sign. Giving him a peace sign. At least, that's what it looked like to everyone else. In truth, it was a pair of scissors.

Douglas turned his body away, his back now facing the man. His girl looked confused, until, with only one hand, he started playing with her hair again. With the other free hand, he raised it behind his back and gave the customary reply.
Four fingers up. The curve of the old barber's blade.
If this guy was heading to Demon's, like he was, he was being very subtle about it. He had to applaud it.

Gunman had no idea what was going on. She wasn't going. She was headed right back to the hotel, to get some sleep and a cup of tea, when she woke up in the morning. Maybe some breakfast, if she felt up for it. She was far too woozy to go to Demon's. Douglas would go first, he'd go tonight and see if the manager could do what she wanted. Even across the pond, his reputation preceded him. He was heralded as a genius.

[The Mentalist]

The two students sat patiently on the subway, whispering quietly to one another. About nothing in particular, just conversation. Anything to keep them off the nagging feeling they had in the back of their heads that whispered to them,'Somethings is going to go wrong tonight. You know it.' They couldn't decide whether it was just nerves or... if it had something to do with the man lounging across from them.

Out of the two, they looked scarier, but he had a much scarier aura. There was a certain air around the businessman. There was something different and odd about him. The air was heavy with it and you could taste it. They could only imagine the horror of receiving a glare from this man. Even Satan looked like a cuddly teddy bear now. Satan would probably get along well with the suited man- they seemed similar.

Then, out of no-where, a little pink paper plane flew and hit the businessman in the face. The two students froze. They intently watched his reaction, fully expecting him to explode with rage.

No such reaction.

Instead, the pink paper plane was scooped from the businessman's lap and unfolded, in silence. The sound of paper creasing was like tiny bee stings to their ears, their eyes transfixed on the paper. The red-headed suited man stared at it and spoke quietly. He was surprisingly meek.
"E-excuse me... w-whose is t-this?"
The two students recoiled slightly. A stutter?! That was really unexpected. His air still seemed off, but he seemed less harmful now. The businessman unfolded it fully and chortled at it once. His voice was a little higher than expected.
"P-please d-d-don't go there f-f-for a cut. I-it's overp-priced and t-they aren't any g-g-good."
He waited for the person to speak up and claim it. The students watch intently.
"I-I know a m-much better p-p-place."

[The Observer]

Feeling the urge to just throw himself off the train he watched in silent horror as the business man pick up the plane and unfold it. Oh Gallifrey why did you throw the stupid plane?!!! Did this regeneration really revert him to his childish ways?!

He awaited an explosion and maybe a good punch in the face or gut...he closed his eyes tightly as he crouched down further cowering in a ball waiting to hear heavy footsteps approach him. Yet instead...

"E-excuse me... w-whose is t-this?"

That was unexpected it really was. Did he just stutter? He slowly looked over the edge of the seat in front of him staring at the man. For someone who looked so scary he seemed pretty harmless now but he was still too fearful to go near him.

"P-please d-d-don't go there f-f-for a cut. I-it's overp-priced and t-they aren't any g-g-good."

Was he helping him? This was kinda weird but hey he had no intention to go there anyways. That place was for women and he was no women!

"I-I know a m-much better p-p-place."

Taking a breath he stood up and walked over to the man "I'm sosososo sorry I hit you in the face." says weakly "Umm...I wasn't planning on going there...and I do need a cut..." his hand wanders to his hair twisting the locks with his fingers "S-so what's this other place? Is it nice?"

[Alec Harrison]

Alec nodded. So he was going as well. Alec calmly strode over to them, offering a handshake to the man with the hand he had made the sign with, it seemed his other hand was occupied with the young lady's hair.
"You know what they say about Demon's Barber?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Yeah, I don't either." he grinned.

"My name is Alec Harrison, what's yours, love?" he inquired of the woman.
He put his hands behind his back, clasping a wad of paper between them.

Even as he said it, the train pulled into the station. As the door slid open, Alec stepped back, guestering for them to enter first.

[The Mentalist]

The business man watched as the owner of the paper plane walked over to him. The red-head shied away a little, not wanting the man to get too close. He was terribly concerned with personal space. he heard a meek apology escape the owner's lips.
"I'm so, so, so, so sorry I hit you in the face."
He paused and nodded.
"It's o-o-okay. No h-harm done... j-just be c-c-careful next time..."
The owner spoke again, weakly.
"Umm...I wasn't planning on going there...and I do need a cut..." he noticed the man's hand wander to his hair, twisting the locks with his fingers. "S-so what's this other place? Is it nice?"
The business man let out a laugh. He sat back in the chair, folding his arms. In a nonchalant manner, he muttered,
"N-nice is not what I'd c-c-call it."
He paused, looking the owner straight in the eye. It was unnerving.
"B-B-But they get the job d-done. Do it b-b-brilliantly.

Leaning forward, he thrust a piece of paper into the owner's hand. He smirked, placing a ginger to his lip in a silencing motion. He then signaled to the paper and ran a finger along his jaw line.
"T-tell no-one I t-t-told you."
It was an dark red flyer with Demon's Barber, with black writing splurged all over it. The businessman smiled.
"Where I g-get mine d-d-done, always by the m-manager. Ask for h-him. He's b-brilliant."
He eyed up the boys sitting across with him and gave them the two finger sign. It was meant to resemble scissors.

They returned the secret gesture, both with four fingers. They were pleased- someone else knew where they were going. Although, it was strange for a businessman to be handing out flyers. They watched him settle again, waiting for the owner to continue the conversation or take a seat next to him.

[The Observer]

Blinking down at the paper he looked it over before putting it in his pocket. Demon's Barber? What an odd sounding name for a hair place. He decided to sit a seat away from the man noticing before how he backed away when he had gotten too close. Maybe he could at least have some social interaction with someone today.

"My name is Maine by the way." says offering his hand to the man smiling. He was warned to use an fake name but really he saw no harm in his real name at all. He was proud of it and he actually used it more than the title he chose for himself. He glanced over at the two students seeing they were watching him intently which made him a bit uncomfortable.

[The Mentalist]

The businessman smiled as the man took the second seat away from him. That was better, the distance made him feel much better. Getting too close to people made him anxious.
"My name is Maine by the way."
He outstretched his hand, a smile plastered on his face. The businessman eyed it suspiciously. Wearily, he gave his own hand over and shook it. It was a weak and uneasy grasp.
"N-Nicholas.... n-nice to meet y-you."
It didn't sound convincing.

~*~

The girl at the other end of the car glanced round to the little group, music blaring out of her ears. The creepy-looking students that seemed transfixed on the conversation in front of them, trying to look like they were not listening. The strange pink-paper plane thrower, trying his very best to apologize for his accident. They were fine.

The businessman really took her attention. She'd heard his name over her music. She had to take a long look at him, inspecting him thoroughly. Red hair, blue eyes, bulky shoulders, black suit, shy and that stutter... That couldn't be little Nicky back from her old school days. It couldn't have been- yet everything said it was. He'd always been clever but she'd never expected him to get that far in life. He was too shy, his social skills weren't enough.

On impulse, she got up from her seat and wandered cautiously over to the little group. Hovering by the side of the students, she coughed, just once, to catch their attention.
Taking back her messy brown hair from her face, she asked,
"Excuse me... can I ask your surname Nicholas?"
She paused, taking a breath in. She tried not to make this strange.
"It's just, you remind me of someone I haven't seen for a long time- I'm wondering if you're him."

The two students turned to the lady, still staying silent and slinking back into their seats. They kept watching the whole situation, a little lost. This businessman must have had a death wish, to hand out an appointment card like that. Talking about the manager too; they knew he was very strange. Probably a regular at the shop.

The businessman also faced the woman, letting go of Maine's hand. He clammed up a little. He couldn't help himself. He was never good around women in a normal social situation. Work was fine but right now, he could feel himself get nervous.
It didn't help that he found her beautiful too. Lovely smile, sweet voice, good manners. He would have liked to have said more, but he couldn't look her in the face. Instead he went red and looked out of the opposite window, into the darkness of the underground.
He stammered his way through a reply. He couldn't even look at her.
"U-uhm... it-t-ts L-Lent."

[The Observer]

Happy that the other took his hand he shook it gently beaming. This may be his first friend on Earth! How exciting!

"N-Nicholas.... n-nice to meet y-you."

Ok...that may of not seem full hearted but it was a start right? He was about to start conversation with him when the woman who was sitting away from the group walked over. She stood there a moment before catching their attention with a cough.

Excuse me... can I ask your surname Nicholas?"

Well that was rather random. Feeling Nicholas' hand slip from his own Main saw his face go beat red. She paused for a second after "It's just, you remind me of someone I haven't seen for a long time- I'm wondering if you're him."

Ohh lost friends maybe? Nicholas seemed to be at a lost or words now beat red. He must get very shy around women he thought to himself. He spotted the students still listening and still found it uncomfortable and strange.

Finally his stuttered replied came "U-uhm... it-t-ts L-Lent."

Not sure what else to do or say at the moment he sat back and waited what the new comer would say next.

[The Mentalist]

Edging past the passenger sitting two away from him, she thanked them for letting her past. She smiled politely, waving to the two students.

Her real interest was the businessman. She reached his seat, noticing he couldn't look her in the eye. Kneeling down to his level, the woman put her bag on the empty seat. She asked him politely,
"Lent? really? Can I have a look at you, please?"
He bit his lip. There was no way- he felt a hand on his face. Her touch was pretty gentle, turning him to face her. She smiled.
"Good lord. It is you. Wow!"
She took her other hand, placing it on the other side. She grinned and laughed kindly.
"It's little Nicky, isn't it? From Northden High-School, from business management! You used to be in my class..."
She let go and smiled. That little misfit from high school had done so well for himself! She was so glad to see him again. Pointing at herself, the woman held her hair back, as if it was in a ponytail. Hopefully he'd know her now!

The businessman took a confused look at her then, after the ponytail, felt even worse. He managed to mutter out a sentence.
"L-Lily F-f-Fenwick, right?"
She had been one of the 'popular' kids at school. All the jocks had wanted her. He felt a line of sweat down his back. She'd been so nice- good looking, good nature and just downright adorable, he'd always got tied in knots when she was nearby. She'd been his irrational high-school crush. He had always made a fool of himself in front of her. Somethings never changed, it seemed. She was still pretty- no, gorgeous and he still acted like an idiot around her.

She nodded, still smiling kindly. So, this was 'little Nicky', all grown up. He'd turned out well. He had obviously grown into his looks. He was the 'fine wine' type of guy. She smiled- she knew it was a wonder that he was still alive. Such a timid guy. It was a wonder he fit into business.
"Yeah! Silly Lily, that's me. How have you been? Looks like you went far."
Nicholas gave a nervous laugh. Social questions made him uneasy.
"I'm d-d-doing a-a-alright. I h-have my o-o-own business, i-i-it's doing g-g-good. W-w-what about you?"
"Clinical psychologist now. I work in the private sector of the health care in London. Mostly with trauma victims... can't say it's the happiest of jobs."
"I b-b-bet it's n-not. Y-you're still a practicing t-t-therapist t-though. Y-you must w-work for ARCAFT. D-d-dig out my n-number from t-their records and g-give me a call w-when you find a d-d-decent speech t-t-therapist."
They both laughed. They knew the speech therapists in that company were dire. She shook hear head, said it'd be a challenge, but she would him a good speech therapist.

The two continued to chat away, quite happy with the situation. The more he spoke with her, the easier it got. The more she spoke with him, the more she was intrigued. It was cringe-worthy how well they were getting along.

The Gothic students watched the conversation for a second, then moved up a few seats. They went to the other guy sitting across and introduced themselves. So he didn't feel lonely- or awkward. As they were feeling.
The taller of the two students, with a huge long, military style black jacket, outstretched his hand to Maine.
"Hey. Name's Tobias. That's Ricardo. Pleased to meet you."
The smaller of the two sighed, taking his red goggles from his head and putting them round his neck.
"Sorry about those two... dunno how that happened... Besides, can I ask to see the business card that guy gave you. It looked cool."
He wasn't going to lie about it- if this guy had something to do with Demon's Barber, they'd speak to him. If that was an appointment card, they'd steal it from him.

[The Observer]

Watching the two talk soon became a bit uncomfortable he felt he had almost became invisible and had dropped off the face of the planet. Sighing he went back to looking out the window.

That was when he heard footsteps approach him and he spotted the two students walking over and sitting across from him. The taller of the two, with a long, military style jacket, outstretched his hand to Maine.

"Hey. Name's Tobias. That's Ricardo. Pleased to meet you."

Blinking he took the hand with a small smile "I'm Maine." introduces himself feeling a bit better for social interation again.

The smaller boy sighed a bit "Sorry about those two... dunno how that happened... Besides, can I ask to see the business card that guy gave you. It looked cool."

"The card?" Maine says outloud glancing down at his pocket pulling out the red paper "Well I guess...don't really see why it's cool just for some hair place."

(sorry for such the delay! I hate school!)