Talon smiled as he pulled out his key and opened the door. Inside was a small dorm room that held a bed, wardrobe, desk, book shelf, a small fridge and a large window revealed the time of night. He opened his wardrobe and looked in the mirror.
A young pale man about eighteen looked back, short hair was pulled back, a lack of a natural shine proved that his hair was dyed black with four slightly faded streaks of bright green, red, yellow, and blue, each a centimeter wide. He liked to claim that each streak represented the seasons of the year. It sounded like something an adult would do.
As a child he had been forbidden to alter his hair color, or have a mark of permanence on his body, such as a tattoo or piercing. To a young slayer, such changed meant a lack of discipline and were not trustworthy. But when the Slayer reached adulthood of eighteen, the adolescent need to be an individual was unleashed and they were allowed to alter their appearance as a rite of passage. The day he went to the salon to dye his hair, he was so proud.


-- An Excript from a Novel I'm writting called Harbringers. Please don't use with out my permission.