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It was hard enough finding places that didn’t outright refuse service to those who were obvious mutants, and it was even harder to find someplace that didn’t refuse service to him because he was part of the Brotherhood, so when Victor saw the “mutant friendly” sign in the window of the nail salon, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. It had been ages since he got his claws taken care of, and even if Mystique was good at helping him file them, Victor’s claws always felt a little better after a professional took care of them. They were starting to get a little too long, and one of the nails had chipped in an annoying place that made his attacks less effective. His latest merc job had left him with a nice amount of cash, and the sign out front did say they accepted walk-ins…
Victor sighed and looked down at his nails, extending the claws briefly. Contrary to popular belief, he took a lot of pride in keeping his nails well maintained. They were really starting to bug him, and he wouldn’t be seeing Mystique until next week since she was off trying to “play nice” with her kids, whatever that meant. He glanced back up at the sign, checking once again that the plaque really did say “mutant friendly” and it wasn’t just a trick of the light. He’d been standing outside idling on the sidewalk long enough that people were starting to look over at him from inside. Not wanting to look like a creep just lurking outside, he shook himself from his train of thought and pushed open the door.
The little bell at the top of the door jingled, announcing his presence to the staff. As Victor looked around, he silently hoped that no one would recognize him. Too many times had he walked into a more populated bar or a diner and had been told to get out because they had seen him on the news. All it ever took was for them to see his eyes or fangs and they would immediately change their tune and kick him out. It was the main reason why he always lurked in the shadier bars, they didn’t tell him to get lost when he just wanted a drink.
The salon itself was quiet, someone in goth attire was picking out nail colors and chatting with one of the nail techs. Their conversation being the only real sound aside from the music. The walls were that nice shade of green that makes a space feel calming, and the furniture was almost the same orange as one of his old uniforms.
Victor looked over at the receptionist, a young woman who was propped against the counter reading a magazine. He quietly walked up and cleared his throat.
“Mornin’, I saw that y’all accept walk-ins?”, he tried his best to sound casual. As far as he could tell, she hadn’t seen his fangs yet, but his pure white eyes were harder to miss. The woman looked up, putting away her magazine and opening her computer.
“Sure, we’re pretty slow today so we can fit you in.” She looked Victor over, eyeing his jacket and tags briefly. “Clear, I’m assuming?”
Victor considered that for a moment, but when he glanced over at the amount of colors they had, it gave him pause. He looked at his nails again, thinking with a low grumble. “I’ll jus’ take a minute t’ look.” The woman nodded and walked away to talk to one of the nail techs while he looked through the polishes. Most of the colors were way too bright or flashy for his tastes, and all he wanted was a polish to protect his claws for a bit. After about five minutes of flipping through the color choices, he found a pale orange that wasn’t too much and was more interesting than his plain nails. The tech walked up behind him and he showed her the color, the label calling it Faith 292. She looked him up and down for a moment, before she took the color from him and motioned for him to follow her.
He followed her over to her station, sitting down and holding out his hands. He didn’t really know what to say, so he calmly extended his claws so their whole length would get done. The nail tech jumped slightly, staring at his claws in surprise. Victor felt his stomach sink, and he braced himself for what he already knew was coming. To his surprise, however, all she ended up doing was grab a different file and start working on his nails.
It felt nice, sitting there in comfortable silence while someone was gentle with him for once. It wasn’t often someone outside of the Brotherhood wasn’t rough during an interaction. Most would be rude or harsh simply because they assumed he could take it. The technician, however, was being just as gentle as she would be with any other customer. While the she carefully filed and trimmed his claws, he continued to look around the salon. He figured out her name from the plaque on her desk, stating that Berniece had a certification for nail work as well as brow work.
Once his claws had been filed to their standard point, she started with the base coat. For a brief moment, Victor worried that his hands wouldn’t fit into the little UV light that was under the table, but after some prompting, he was pleased to find his hands fit comfortably enough the gel could cure. Berniece calmly started on the first layer of color, not saying a word about how long his claws were. Every so often she would talk with her coworker, but Victor wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying, not wanting to be rude. As one of the younger members of the Brotherhood would put it, he was trying to get a good grade in nail, which is both normal to want and possible to achieve.
Much to Victor’s glee, the orange he picked out matched his jacket really well. It felt nice to have the polish put on, and it wasn’t too obnoxious that it would draw a terrible amount of attention. Once the final coat was applied, Bernice did a small run of oil over his cuticles to make sure he wasn’t scuffed or anything, even though his healing factor would’ve taken care of it. As soon as he was positive she was done with the lotion and everything, he tested extending and retracting his claws. They felt so much better than they had in the last few weeks, and the jagged part was gone so it no longer nicked him every time used them.
He grinned and looked them over as he stood up, making sure to thank Bernice as he did so. When he went up to pay at the front desk, he actually decided to set up another appointment with her a month or so out, as well as tipping accordingly. Victor may have been a lot of things, but a stingy tipper wasn’t one of them. If someone was going to put up with him and treat him like any other customer, he was gonna make sure they got what they deserved and more.
Upon returning to the Brotherhood’s base later in the afternoon, he showed off his claws to anyone who would listen, and Erik wouldn’t hear the end of how much he enjoyed the appointment for the rest of the day.