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tampered2008-10-27 02:06 am
deathbutler.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2008-10-27 02:06 am
Log; Ongoing
When; Monday, Oct. 27th
Rating; PG-13 for Cindy's mouth?
Characters; Grell [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
deathbutler] & Cindy [passionforshoes]
Summary; Job interviews, and of course, laying down guidelines. Not to mention sharing some little tidbits of... juicy~ information. ♥
Log;
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
Grell's shoes were an audible thing, shapely heels, of course, couldn't be anything else, rapping on the cobblestone streets as he made his way. He still hadn't discarded Madame's red coat, the blood stained number with the rent hole through the back, and it lay easy in the crook of his elbows. A woman's coat really was too tailored for an unfortunate man like this one. Oh, but he had a bag in his elbow, too, and in that bag, his props. The weapons of a master of disguise.
The shop, he recognized the store sign, was not yet open, not yet finished, but he rapped his gloved knuckles on the door frame anyway before letting himself in, tiptoeing light and poking about.
"Ma~~~~ dame~"
Rating; PG-13 for Cindy's mouth?
Characters; Grell [
deathbutler] & Cindy [passionforshoes]Summary; Job interviews, and of course, laying down guidelines. Not to mention sharing some little tidbits of... juicy~ information. ♥
Log;
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
Grell's shoes were an audible thing, shapely heels, of course, couldn't be anything else, rapping on the cobblestone streets as he made his way. He still hadn't discarded Madame's red coat, the blood stained number with the rent hole through the back, and it lay easy in the crook of his elbows. A woman's coat really was too tailored for an unfortunate man like this one. Oh, but he had a bag in his elbow, too, and in that bag, his props. The weapons of a master of disguise.
The shop, he recognized the store sign, was not yet open, not yet finished, but he rapped his gloved knuckles on the door frame anyway before letting himself in, tiptoeing light and poking about.
"Ma~~~~ dame~"
no subject
Speaking of him, there was only one person who called her by that title here, a title that hadn't been used on Cindy since her divorce from that slut of a husband.
"Grell?" she answered, popping her blonde head up from behind the counter. "That must be you."
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A little wave of his gloved hand, fingers curling as he surveyed the store, twirling about with a cascade of crimson red hair, adjusting his glasses with the chink of the chains on his glasses.
"What potential!" Grell crooned, referring to it, before turning back to the woman in front of him, dipping in to a bow.
"Grell Sutcliffe, at your service, Madame~"
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"And last time I checked, they weren't here." Cindy finished her sentence as she crossed her arms and leaned against the counter and surveyed Grell make a big to-do about his introduction. She didn't know what to make of him with his bright red hair, his clearly tailored pants and... women's shoes. This would prove to be interesting, to say the least.
"Oh, stop with the bowing. I'm not paying you for that."
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"And surely, just as when I was a butler... flattery is the key to a woman's heart."
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Unfolding her arms, she pushed herself off the counter with a well-practiced move of her elbows. "As comfortable as my shoes are, I don't intend on having this little meeting standing up."
Cindy's request for him to sit down was punctuated with her pointing out a set of unopened boxes. The chairs wouldn't arrive until sometime later in the week and if he had a problem with a box, then he would need to hit the road now.
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"As the madame wishes~" He continued to flatter though, an instinct with beautiful things, though he wished she were wearing more red. It would have been much more flattering than that... blue number.
He carefully minded his coat tails, sitting with one arm behind him to lean back on, crossing his legs in a feminine manner.
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And by the looks of Grell's choice in footwear, his obvious feminine streak might be a good thing.
"So, you're a butler?" she asked as she sat down as well, opening the floor for him to tell her everything she needed to know. Cindy didn't like having to walk people through the obvious; it gave her a headache. The faster Grell would pick up on her verbal cues, the better this interview would go.
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A bit of an anguished expression crossed his face briefly. "My beautiful, captivating, Madame Red... it's all the more a shame that in the end, I had to leave her employment in such a horrid manner."
With a chainsaw through her chest. ♥
"But, that's that, and here I came shortly after. I hear the dead can arrive, but as my employment has been terminated, I only have my own self to look after for once~ Oh-"
A sordid look, that.
"And my little hangers on."
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"Look, I need a store clerk, not an actor. Is this your everyday behavior or are you putting on a show?" Her tone had a hint of amusement that the words didn't. She honestly didn't give a shit if his old boss kicked the butt or if he had kids or something. She just wanted somebody who could do the work and do it well.
Entertainment was just an extra.
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"But I can be anyone, Madame." A glare, as he adjusted his glasses, lips pursed, amused at himself.
"Anyone, really."
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Cindy cocked an eyebrow at him, wondering just what he meant by that. If he was planning to fuck her over in some way, she wouldn't hesitate to fire him.
Or beat him.
Or kill him. It was all the same to her.
"Other than your fabulous taste in shoes, why should I hire you?" Cindy questioned, leaning back and crossing her legs in a similar manner to his. It was a common question she asked during job interviews, but it told her all she needed to know in the span of thirty seconds. She was a busy woman and as much as she liked being entertained, the boxes wouldn't open themselves.
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"I told you~ I can be anything."
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Then, a flurry of activity. A brush of substance through his hair died the crimson red a dull and mousy brown. Glasses changed out for a more subdued wire pair, and his hair tied back with simple red ribbon. Madame's bright coat tucked away, and a dark, yet well tailored overcoat replaced it. Contacts covered the distinguished hue of his eyes, and to complete the role... mindset.
When Grell Sutcliffe turned around, he was nigh, no, was, unconnectable to the man he had been mere five minutes before. Even, when he opened his mouth, his behavior and timber of voice had changed.
"Madame..."
no subject
Being a Fable, she'd seen glamour spells being used many a time. Hell, she'd used a couple herself on missions. But none of that prepared her for what just happened right in front of her eyes. The man that looked and acted like a questionable woman was now... a regular man.
"What the hell is going on here? Is this your hobby?"
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"It's really more just a skill... though I really do think it's enjoyable, too, so-" His mannerisms even, nothing spoke of flamboyant, he kept himself closed, more guarded. The way he adjusted his glasses was more like he was checking himself, not showing off. The way he sat was a man's posture, with the slight curve of insecurity.
"I hope it's to your liking, Madame."
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She'd hired some whack-a-doodles in the centuries she'd been in business, but this was the first time she had witness something along these lines. Honestly, she didn't care as long as the job got done, but that didn't mean she was any less surprised at it.
The Mundanes were always trying to shock and awe somebody. Cindy should have expected it.
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"What you saw was the truth, Madame~ This Grell Sutcliffe is just an act." It seemed odd, the original timber and word choice he came in with, with this body, this drab appearence.
"And as embarrassing as it is for me to be seen without make up in public like this- This is the role better fitted for customers~"
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She honestly did. This new Grell was too uptight for her. Last thing Cindy needed was uptight in a place where she had to spend forty hours minimum in.
"Would it be too much if I asked that you keep the redhead look?" Cindy began, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her thighs. "Because I don't think you could model the latest season's shoes with the manly look. Well, you could, but I'd rather you not."
Plus a crossdresser would be good for publicity. It would attract the weirdo crowd and they always managed to buy something in the shop.
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"And modeling, mm~?" Fingers tapped on his glasses, fiddled happily.
"Nfu~ Well, well, of course, I couldn't very well deny that- Though, as long as Madame could allow me my hobby when I had the need..."
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Standing up, Cindy closed the space in between them and gave Grell a thorough once-over. If she didn't know better, she would have thought they were two different men. He was good.
"And I figured with that special discount, you can afford to. I'll let you do the hobby. It's really none of my business, even if I have an opinion on it. But I have a question."
The last sentence was left hanging, asking for permission to question him in the only way Cindy ever asked anybody for permission.
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"Ask away, Madame~"
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"Exactly what kind of need calls for this transformation?"
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"The Lord Earl Phantomhive is a persistent little thing. He didn't fancy my service to his aunt." He let that sentence hang, as if to imply a certain context that didn't need saying. And then he grew quiet, before abruptly flushing, fanning himself desperately.
"And the other- My handsome and powerful Romeo~ ♥"
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"I'm not even going to ask about this Romeo. Your bedroom antics are nothing I need to know about," Cindy replied, taking back her hand.
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"If I were able to bear a child, I would so want Sebastian's~" It was obvious that was a topic he could go on and on about, and even this display was him being mild.
And oh, Sebas~chan. ♥ How he longed.
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"Now, is there anything else I should know? You know, I should expect you to come in a dress one day, frilly bloomers the next? Things like that."
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"Unless... you'd like to see me in those~"
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Cindy reached up to rub at her temples with her thumbs; she could feel a headache coming on and if she wasn't so desperate not to work on the weekends, she would have told Grell that maybe this wouldn't work out if he was going to say things like that. She wanted to ask more questions, but her sanity couldn't take the beating right now.
"I'll need you to come in tomorrow. 10am. Not a minute later. I sure hope you like boxes."
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"Of course, Madame~"
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"Be here tomorrow and I'll give you a set schedule sometime next week." As amusing as he was in the beginning, she was starting to feel like she just signed a death contract with the Big Ol' Mistake God.
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Because the smile Grell Sutcliffe wore when he left, well. That was the smile of a god.
A death god.