Beckett almost didn't realize it was over when he finally finished. Only when the haircutter took out a long device and began plasting air at his head did Beckett think that the cutting portion might be over. Of course, by then, he had a new and unexpected horror to cope with: the noise of the air-blaster. He jolted out of his chair, scattering tufts of blond hair from his covering sheet. “Whoa, easy there. I'm just blow-drying it a little,” the haircutter said, holding out a placating hand. He must have turned the device off, because the noise stopped. Beckett blinked for a moment, then cleared his throat, trying for composure and not quite managing to find it.
“Y-Yes, of course. I'm sorry,” he said stiffly, settling himself back down in his chair. With more wariness, the haircutter turned his 'blow-dry' device back on. This time, Beckett opted to keep his eyes open, lest he be caught off guard by something again. It wasn't that he thought the haircutter was out to hurt him, exactly--- there wasn't enough of a motive for that, and Senna had assured him that they didn't look like celestial beings. Not that they were, precisely, being instead mortals that Elirian had accepted, but it was almost the same thing. They had an easier time passing, and no innate abilities; those were the only differences.