Yumichika knows he's pretty! ♥ (yumichika) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-10-24 16:33:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, sylvanas windrunner, yumichika ayasegawa |
"I'm going to wait right here and drink my coffee."
Who: Sylvanas Windrunner, Yumichika Ayasegawa
What: Shopping and chitchat.
When: After this network post.
Rating: gonna say it's Lowish, since it’s just shopping and talking.
Status: Complete!
If there was one thing Yumichika knew besides the best hair care and spa treatments? It was shopping. After all, he had made his living off being a personal stylist, so he knew his way around a clothing store. The person he was meeting was also fabulous and he could be seen with her (she’s elvish! for the time being), and so he didn’t hesitate when she mentioned needing a new wardrobe.
The only problem was that Yumichika and the word ‘budget’ didn’t often go hand in hand. He had made a small dent in the money from the nightclub job, because hair treatments with diamond and meteorite dust in them, and 24 karat gold facials? Not cheap.
Worth it! But not cheap.
He stood on the sidewalk outside the boutique, iced skinny latte in one hand, and sunglasses on so he didn’t develop wrinkles from squinting at the sun. He was mostly wearing his customary black. Mostly, because there was a light and airy orange scarf around his neck, that was near enough to his face to set off the color of his eyes. No, it’s not to impress anyone else, only himself. But thank you for noticing.
If there was anything that Sylvanas was terrible at, it was shopping. She tried to wear something that wasn't too goth. In fact there was a color that wasn't blue or black in it - red! It wasn't that stylish, though.
She didn't have much money, but she'd budgeted some to this.
She moved behind him. "Yumi."
Inwardly, Yumichika facepalmed a little bit, because he felt her before she even said anything. Not in the touchie feelie sense, but the 'I can feel something creeping up on me from a mile away' sense. He turned and had his mouth open to say so, before it snapped shut and his chin tipped down, enough that the sunglasses slipped down his perfectly shaped nose and his eyes could be seen over the tops of the lenses.
"...Sylvanas. That is simply not working for you. It's a warm red, not a cool toned red, which would have suited your complexion much better. Quick, let's get you inside before someone sees you in that." He took off his sunglasses and gave her a look like 'oh, girl...how could you' before he waved toward the door. "Maybe you better stick to goth tones. Have you tried anything in a nice grey color, yet?"
He's not getting the door. It needs to be opened for him.
"There's much of a difference?" She looked at him like he had grown a second head. "I like greys. Purple. I love purple, too. It's kind of...royal."
She didn't look like she was going to open the door either. That could be a problem.
This is a problem, because he's not opening the door. Now he's staring at it, to her, and back again.
"There's a difference. The warm toned red is overshadowing your face, which you're supposed to accentuate, not stick it in the background to be noticed after what you're wearing. When we're done here, you need to burn that thing." He sighed softly and then stared at the door, like he was willing it with his sheer will power and magnificence of being, to open, like open sesame. But to make the criticisms less harsh, he admitted, "Greys work for every occasion, and I absolutely love purple, too."
Without either of them having to lift a finger, a woman was exiting the boutique, gave them both a questioning staring at, and held the door open. Also like she was questioning if they wanted in or not.
"Finally. Thank you," Yumichika said as he walked into the shop, like he was listening to the fanfare of his own grand entrance, inside his head. No one else can hear it, because it is simply too awesome and if it was released to the public, the world would explode from all the epic musical win. He surveyed his surroundings like he was looking out on a battlefield and deciding which section to tackle first.
"This shirt? I like this shirt." She frowned. "Maybe keep it for wearing around the apartment. But purple and grey. I like that combination."
She smiled tightly, then followed him in, nodding once at the woman as if to thank her.
If he could bear to think on it, he would tell her maybe purple and black, but purples were hard to match with grey, without it looking like a 1980's retro workout video on VHS tape. Which was about the only time it was acceptable to match any color with grey anything. He would have nightmares sometimes about his mother saying she used to like hot pink and grey together.
No, his mind rejects this. Keep the neutrals neutral, thank you! Pair it the purples with some khaki, because it can at least carry it off better and be complimentary.
"Right. You can use that to buff around the rim of the toilet, I suppose," he said, for when Yumi cleaned, he cleaned everything to a high gloss. Old t-shirts work wonderfully. And yes, he clips his bangs back and wears big yellow rubber gloves. Shut up. At least he doesn't wear an apron...
...since that's only when he's baking cakes and it's a plain white apron. Shut up, even more. He likes cake sometimes.
"There. Casual wear. Do you wear dresses often or go out dancing, or to parties?" he asked, because those were important questions. He needed to get an idea of what sort of things she did for entertainment or for work, so he could gauge what she might need or would look best on her, accordingly. "Or work. What sort of work do you do for a living?"
Hot pink and grey would be terrible. In fact, pink was the absolute worse color in the history of colors. And that was saying a lot, especially 70s green.
"Purple and blue..." she fingered a corset-like shirt. She snorted. "I don't go out on dates, or dancing, or to parties. I've done them sometimes, but not in a couple of years."
She wouldn't mind impressing Setsuna, but that was just because that woman was so elegant.. "I Uh..dance. At that new place. And I serve coffee. So nothing really impressive for a living."
"I don't know which new place you're talking about. Otherwise, it's good to know you have dated. The big question is men or women," asked Yumichika, pointblank, before he abruptly stopped and gave her a looking up and down. "Women." He held up one hand to ward off any protests and stated, flat out, "You've too much of a hard edge that would be too intimidating and off putting to the average straight male."
He walked past a rack of dresses and felt the material, but made a face when it felt like they used a cheap polyester blend. Eww.
"You've two choices, you can either try to soften your edge with the style of attire, but keep the colors you like. Or, you can try something new to accentuate it, if the type of individuals you want to attract attention from are looking for someone a little more edgy. It really all depends on the type of attention you want to draw to yourself. If you don’t take some chances, even if they’re somewhat calculated ones, you might never reach your full beauty potential."
"Both have their uses," Sylvanas replied, shrugging her shoulder, but she didn't deny it. "Mostly. One or two men but...that hard edge. You're really insightful." She shot him a dirty look at his back.
"There's no one I want the attention of," She added, protesting. "Maybe we can try both and see what works."
"It's my job to be insightful," he said, not noticing the dirty look. Having given his fair share of dirty looks and being the world's best frenemy to a fair number of people, he wasn't exactly the friendliest person ever, either. "I realize this is only for fun, though, so trying both out might be a good idea. Think of it this way...."
He shooed a clerk away when she tried to let him know that drinks weren't allowed, focusing his full and undivided attention on Sylvanas.
"...being noticeable doesn't have to be only for sex. It can get you power, money, or it can even distract someone you hate, if you do it the right way. You do it wrong and you'll look silly, and no one will take you seriously. If you're beautiful, you work to accentuate what you do have, not hide it...by wearing something the color of a slightly underripe tomato."
He pointed at the shirt and gently sipped his coffee. Even the way he drank an iced coffee looked like it was thought out and for a photo op. He held his hand just so.
"Power and money might be useful." Beats doing something for a girlcrush. Not that she had a girlcrush. She was SLAYER OF ORCS AND TROLLS she didn't get girlcrushes.
She looked around, expecting some kind of photo op.
No one was around but the shop girl was staring at them both. Then she raised up her smart phone and took a picture, right before she tried to make herself look busy.
Yumichika probably didn't ever get dribbles or spills, or hiccups or sneezes, or ever had sleep in his eyes when he woke up. In fact, it looked like he rose out of bed every morning with birds singing and a beam of heavenly light shining down on him, before he delicately yawned and every hair magically fell right into place without his having to do a thing to it.
Yet he was still a slayer of rogue souls and a fighter at heart. He did so with style and grace, even when things got ugly and he had to make faces that weren't as appealing because he lost his temper. But that’s enough about thaa~aaa~aat.
"Now, what sort of dancing do you do," he asked, expecting her to say ballet or modern or something of a more classical lean, perhaps even choreography. "Because if you dress the right way, then all the right jobs can land in your lap and you can have all the money."
Seeing anyone wake up like that would disturb the woman on a profoundly deep and terrible level, the likes of which she'd never recover from.
"At a place called Okugata. Kind of like softcore burlesque. I'm a bad people person. Setsuna promised to help me with that. So I just dance, and don't hostess."
"If it's burlesque, then at least it’s more tasteful. At least you dance and don't lower yourself to doing actual lap dances," he replied, lifting one hand to wave it ever so slightly, to and fro. "Appearance is even more important for you. You should be going on stage to impress, and then when you're off stage? You need to be looked at and envied, so you seem more desirable and become a bigger draw for the business. The owner will love you and other girls will want to be like you, which is all that matters. You simply blow them off because they'll never reach your level, and be lavished with attention from everyone."
He began to pull things off the racks in black silks and grey cashmeres, as well as some purple shirts that would accentuate not only her breasts but the line of her neck.
"We really need to get you to a good lingerie store, unless you have things custom made for on the stage. If it's burlesque, there's so many places to choose from," he was saying, as he passed by a row of dresses and, guessing the size (correctly, mind you), plucked up a short purple dress. While it was short, it was also well made with clean lines, and therefore had a certain amount of classiness to it, while still showing off some leg.
“You will never see me doing a lap dance for money,” she said, voice as dry as a desert. It had been a big reason why she’d been drawn to Okugata. It was more..respectful. She followed his movements with her eyes. “I have a few things, but I could use more for variety’s sake. My show is a little dark.”
She kind of liked that dress, as soon as she saw it.
"Good. If it's a little dark and mysterious, that's fine. You could always use props, but you probably know that already. I like fans. They show off a person's hands. But really, you can use feathers or any number of things, and turn it from simply dancing into an experience." He turned to look at her hands for a moment, eyebrows ever so slightly quirked, lower lip pursed out just so. "You need a wax dip, some quality moisturizer on your knuckles, and a better manicurist. I know someone. Don't let me forget to tell you where to go. Otherwise you're going to look like your next step is knuckle dragging on concrete, and clubbing people with the thighbone of a dinosaur."
He pointed with one finger toward a little dressing room, while announcing, "She's going to try on these things." Then he turned and smiled at Sylvanas, reassuring her as the shop clerk took the hangers he was holding by one finger, and unlocked the dressing room door. "You will look gorgeous. Trust me. I'm going to wait right here and drink my coffee."
Or more precisely, he was going to sit and delicately sip it, like it was made out of 100% angel’s tears.
"Fans..." She wondered how she could work fans into her dance. Or something elvish. It was preferable to the darkness that surrounded her body after she'd reclaimed it.
"Feathers, I like those too.. wax dip? What the hell is a wax dip?" She stared at him like he was crazy. Then she looked at the clothing and added up the credit card bill in her head.
Great.
"They dip your hands into a warmed parafin wax and it seals in the moisture and softens your skin," he explained while holding out one hand, fingers fanned out slightly, so she could see that he had the.smoothest.creamiest.skin.ever. When he was a thousand and one, he would still have hands like a 18 year old human that hadn't ever engaged in sports or any form of vocational shop class. All of which were dangers to one's pretty fingers.
And he couldn't show off the other hand, since there was the teeniest tiniest trace of some very faded bruises on his other knuckles, from where they met a (now dead) guy's face. But he was hiding that by holding his iced latte with it.
"Fans, feathers, strings of pearls? Those would work. The place where you work might not be so keen about riding crops, if it doesn't fit the atmosphere. That's more S and M, than burlesque. Let's aim for classy and hard to get, which makes others want you more, or to know you more."
He shooed her a little bit by fwipping those fanned out fingers at her, to let her know it was time to scoot her cute girl hiney into the dressing room and try those things on.
She wasn’t sure she wanted girly fingers, but they did seem to be really smooth. “I’ll think about that. And I like riding crops.” Because of course she did. “But classy is better for that place. Despite…I just want to impress the boss, really.”
So she scooted into the dressing room. Cue classic 80s dressing room montage.
Not.
"Then let's aim for classy and impressing your boss. That might land you more time on stage, which means more money, which means all the riding crops."
Throughout the dressing room montage (that really wasn't a dressing room montage), Yumichika sat there, beautifully. He either nodded his head when she looked fantastic, or shook his head no at something that just did not work. When there was enough suitable choices, he took up the pile, and started adding up the cost.
"...plus tax...oh, this is only about a thousand or so. You should get some sunglasses too, to help with looking mysterious. Like a movie star," he suggested.
“I kind of wish I had more cause to use them,” she joked, trying to strike poses without feeling ridiculous. Her sisters would be laughing their pretty asses off. She coughed. “Only about a thousand?” That was an entire week’s paycheck!
"Beauty and perfection aren't cheap," Yumichika said like he was reminding someone of a very important point. He stopped and gave her an unwavering and appraising looking at, before folding one arm over himself. "You don't have it?"
“It’ll max out my card, I can pay it off in a month or two,” she replied, shaking her head. “I never treat myself to anything.”
"Why not? If you're going to spoil someone, it might as well be yourself." Yumichika took one last sip of the meager remains of his latte, before...well he simply passed it off to the shop girl since she was passing by. She can deal with that. Thaaaaaaaanks. "Everything you have there is a necessity. And, furthermore, it's a work related necessity. I can't stand to see someone depriving themselves. Here."
He reached into his wallet and pulled out enough hundred dollar bills to cover it, took hold of her hand, and put the money into it.
"Use that. You can pay me back someday," he told her, like he wasn't going to hear another word about it to the contrary. It also let him get close enough to her to feel if her skin was cold to the touch or not, like he assumed it might be.
"No. No way. I'm not going to owe someone!" She glared at him as though her look could somehow melt steel and then reform it into a blade with which to run him through!
Her skin was a full degree below normal. Noticeable enough.
It was something he noticed, and even his own touch seemed a little lighter and somehow less tangible than a normal living person's would be. The entire time, he kept his face from showing any sort of concern or reaction, even as he was pondering it over.
"Then don't owe me. Consider it a gift." He stared at her hand and then let go, slowly, folding his arms in that way that hid his hands by tucking them in. He was not taking the money back. "I have enough money after I was paid for styling some photoshoots and I'm not taking no for an answer. You need those things, and that is simply that."
He turned his head so he was looking off to one side, and not paying attention if she tried to protest further.
“Let me buy you lunch sometime,” She replied, looking down at the money like it was some kind of snake or animal that was going to bite her. But she really wanted these clothes with a ferocity that surprised her.
"Deal. Lunch would be fantastic," Yumichika replied, before he tilted his head to one side ever so slightly, to watch her. "It's only money. It comes and goes. Then we do what we have to get more of it."
And in his case, recently? Isn't that the truth?
She started to march to the counter. “There are some things I won’t do. Like lapdances. Even if that would pay even more than I’m getting right now, which isn’t really that bad, all things considered.”
"You won't see me whoring myself out, either." He was following along, although Yumi didn't march. He walked with poise and perfect posture. As for what he did before he met Ikkaku in his dreams? That was his business and no one else's. He was a very, very pretty man, after all. A man who was once very, very passable for a woman...right down to the pretty kimono and purple bow in his waist-length hair.
"Hmm, true," he admitted, after mulling that over. "Perhaps I should have stated, with limitations or without compromising ourselves. That would have been more appropriate. Besides that, I think you might strangle anyone who you gave a lap dance to, if they dared lay a finger on you the wrong way."
“I thought about it. When I was trying to get out here.” It pained Sylvanas to admit that, but she’d come this far. She put the clothing on the counter and winced with every beep of the scanner. “If I met the right person, I might give a private viewing.” She grinned, a little triumphantly.
"That's different. It involves the right person," he said, staring off to one side, like he was looking at nearby accessories. He really wasn't staring at them as much as he was looking somewhere past them. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, before he blinked and held his head up high again. "Who knows? That could very well happen, someday."
He supposed. If she didn't grow two heads and horns and hell only knows what else. Which would be a waste of a beautiful elf, in his opinion. There was no telling what she might turn into.
"Anyone you'd want to dance dirty for?" She pulled one of the newly bought outfits out, and disappeared into the dressing room. She came out a few moments later, feeling about as sexy as she looked. “Ready for lunch?”
"Oh ha, no. No one worth mentioning. And if I had, it would have definitely included a fan and looked somewhat traditional," Yumichika replied, slowly shaking his head so he didn't mess up his hair any. When she came out of the dressing room, he gave her a round of applause, because she looked incredibly sexy and beautiful, like she was someone famous and to be taken notice of. "I’m absolutely ready for lunch. Do you have a place in mind?"
"Yeah, I hope you like something spicy," she said, flashing a grin. She felt like he said she should. Ready to kick some ass.