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 Posted: Mon Apr 22, 2019 9:42 am
((occurs post Witzend, shortly after Trey returns))It wasn't often that rich clients came looking for designer pieces for themselves, but it was something normal enough to not earn much comment. Trey didn't know of any local events, but for someone with the money it would take to have Joellen's custom work, it was likely something international. Or maybe it was local and a private event, though he could only shake his head over someone throwing around money for something so small.
With the meeting set for today, the young man had taken care to clean up the clutter of the office at Viennent Du Coeur into something that looked professional and functional, with the right amount of welcoming comfort these clients tended to expect. It wasn't even his office, not really, and the clutter he had found when he arrived had not been his. He shared it with his mother, when she actually worked in the shop, and served a duo purpose for meetings just like this, with a set of comfortable seats arranged before the desk with a low, marble coffee table. She never seemed to care how she left it, sweeping in and out like a hurricane. The manager he had left to take care of things in his absence had also not been as careful as he would have liked in keeping things organized. He was still finding papers in weird places and some had simply poofed into the ether. It all made him tired.
His eyes trailed past the delicate orchids that sat on the table's surface when a knock sounded on the door and a dark haired woman poked her head in.
"Yes, Trinity?" He said with a smile designed to warm the nervous smile she gave him. She was pretty, for all she wasn't one of his mother's models, but she always seemed flustered around him. He knew why, or thought he did, and didn't find it worth commenting on.
"Ah, Mr. Cameron, your one o'clock is here." She said with a bob of her head. He nodded back and she pushed the door hastily open, stepping in just long enough to hold it for their client before she bustled out, only pausing to ask if they'd like anything to drink.
Trey lifted his eyebrows as he cast a look at his new potential client, standing and coming around the desk in a smooth glide. He left his suit coat hanging on the hook by the door, comfortable enough in his loose dress shirt and slacks that he didn't feel it added anything to his appearance.
"Trey Cameron." He offered as he held out a hand, sleeves rolled neatly up to his elbows. "I hope you didn't have any trouble with traffic on your way here."
Professional, polite. Charming smile in full sway.
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Posted: Mon Apr 22, 2019 1:56 pm
Youmafication cost much in terms of social mores. As years came and went, they robbed em of small etiquettes — principles like which side of the plate the spoon goes, who to impress and who to denigrate, and how to dress as a client for an arranged appointment. Poor presentation could cost em the meet and leave work undone. As ey entered, dressed in a green hooded vest, double brested with gold fastenings, a black ribbed tank with only DUCO displayed beneath the vest's crop, jean shorts and black knee socks, ey looked nothing like the well-kept sometimes-model-sometimes-man that greeted em.
A mistake in hindsight. Or a test of Trey's graciousness, a measure of his reactions.
The youth accepted the proffered hand as Trinity excused herself, and shook it with eir free hand placed over the top of Trey's. He had warm hands to this fire-starved body, the youth noted. "Eion Risk." For as little as that name meant.
Trey mentioned traffic and Eion nearly laughed. Nearly, but a smile wrote over his features nonetheless. He dressed well, spoke well, rehearsed all the ways he could navigate the sea of cutthroat while seeming harmless. Looking upon him now, on that unblemished face framed so expertly by violet hair, strays so perfectly out of place they seemed intentional, Eion wondered if he used this position to meet Negaverse aims, or vice versa — used the Negaverse to maneuver himself into a better position in fashion.
The greetings done, Eion permitted emself to wander. Coal eyes cast from corner to corner, to couch to table to binders and posh decor and paint color so selected to look impeccable through any shade of weather. Eir tone was solemn as ey spoke. "My mother used to like Joellen's work very much. Coveted the Spring 2016 line. Thought the way she matched color and material was unspeakably brilliant.
"But I'm not here to commission her." Eion rounded one of the leather couches, fingernails painting along the dips where rivets imprisoned its shape. Ey sat, hunched forward, with hands interlaced between eir knees. "I'm here to commission you."
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Posted: Tue Apr 23, 2019 10:38 am
He had been surprised to see his new client, though long training had kept him from showing any of it. Up close, he was even more sure the man was young... younger than he was, younger maybe than Rowan had been... and the mischievous cast to his features made him look fey, almost as though a kid had wandered in off the streets and not someone who had the means to ask for this sort of meeting. It was that, more than the clothing, that made him wonder.
He watched as Eion circled the couch with delicate touches to it's surface, eyes everywhere like some bright bird. It was the smile, he decided, that made him look a touch wild. Trinity had brought him back, so it had to be the one he was set to meet. Perhaps a parent had arranged it... indulgent and willing to dump money on clothes.
"Joellen has exquisite taste and eye." Trey agreed as he trailed after, hands in his pockets. He only moved to sit when the boy did, sinking down with a neat tug of his pants before he crossed long legs at the knee. He had been all set to wax eloquent on his mother's skills, but the sudden lean forward took him by surprise.
"Me?" He said with a hint of amusement. "You flatter me with your perception of my skills, but Joellen is the true genius in the family. I've merely dabbled in design, myself. Unless you mean posing for photographs? I'm far more skilled at that work."
But that wasn't what the meeting had been for. Neither was seeking him as designer. He looked the younger man over again, wondering if he would be needing to walk him to the door soon. The temp had left more than enough work for him to do, if this wasn't a serious meeting. Maybe it was the double life he led. Unknown things made him wary, these days, more prone to seeing looming shadows where there might be none.
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Posted: Tue Apr 23, 2019 3:28 pm
"Better that it's you who designs this work," Eion returned in a tone that brooked no argument. From back pocket came a slim bifold, rarely used by its newness, with an old Azure Valley emblem hand-stitched in the school's characteristic not-quite-azure. As Eion withdrew a paper from it, ey spoke in eir usual raspy tenor. "I need you to design a suit that fits these measurements. Something befitting a business owner — someone who spends a lot of time around people. The suit needs to project charisma, good taste, and personality. But it needs a personal touch, too." Ey plucked a paper and laid it down on Trey's low table for his perusal.
Chest circum: 38.9
Waist circum: 30.6
Hip circum: 34.5
Thigh midpoint circum: 21.3
Arm length: 31.2
Additive to those were other remarks — shoe size, shoulder width, bicep circumference, and more to illustrate a more complete idea of the individual. "Here are the recipient's measurements." Eion watched him then, curious if Trey should recognize the general body shape and size. But these were model proportions that such companies often sought. And beyond that, how much of a man's body was stitched into his identity? Could anyone recognize Rowan by his shoulder length and height and hip circumference? Could they know him by his shoe size? Doubtful.
"You're skeptical, I see. I don't blame you." Next came the cell phone, and after a few taps and a screenshot, 265 appeared on screen. Eion placed the iPhone next to the paper, also for Trey's perusal. "I'll pay you in two parts. One is a lump sum to be paid to you in Ethereum — roughly forty-six thousand dollars in current exchange rate.
"The second part…" Eion pocketed the wallet, sat back, crossed legs. Eir fingers settled for clutching at eir ankle boots and testing eir flexibility. Eion's gaze, once sharp, now dropped to the table some moments. Ey smiled again — a crooked thing, more like an ivory knife than a mirthful affair. But there was no malice in the sardonic, nor in eir voice. "I hate this part, I'm no good for human affairs anymore. I'm sorry, Trey, I meant to broach this delicately, to empathize in terms of shared loss. I know what it means to lose everyone, but…" The phrase dropped, and with it, Eion's breach of composure.
Drawing breath, Eion's gaze flickered back to Trey. The smile vanished. "The second part of your payment is an invitation to a meeting where you will fit the suit to its intended wearer. His name used to be Rowan Cameron.
"There's more, but I need to know this room is safe for other business." It was then that ey wished the Negaverse had a universal code — half a fish to draw in the sand to communicate quietly among each other.
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Posted: Sat Apr 27, 2019 5:37 pm
Trey eyed the boy with skepticism, but he reached to take it off the table, sweeping an eye down the measurements. They belonged to a slender man, or maybe woman, but that wasn’t really worth noting beyond the general image in his head. Chagrined at being called out for his lack of facial control, he smoothed his face and set back, shifting the paper idly between his fingers in a show of relaxation.
The money was no meager amount… Definitely rich parents, Trey decided. His mother might have spent that much on him once, but not for clothes. Not for one set of clothes. It would be a sizable sum to bring in, certainly, but it only made him more wary, hair prickling along the nape of his neck.
Empathize in shared loss… Blue eyes narrowed and darkened. Still confused, still wary… and a name spoken that hit home like a knife in his gut, twisting cruelly.
Trey surged to his feet as he bristled, his face dark and eyes icy. No money was worth this. Who did this little b*****d think he was? The anger burned through him, both hot and cold at the same time.
“I think it’s time you left. My brother is dead. He’s been missing for over a year, and he’s not the type to disappear without a word.” That had been one of the things the police had suggested… that he’d run away, broken contact with his family. Trey had always been adamantly against the idea. Maybe from Joellen, but not from him. Rowan would have said something to him, reached out to him. As much as it hurt to think of him dead, what other explanation was there? He’d worked so hard to come through the grief of it… and now this.
“I somehow doubt you were looking for money, but if you were looking to get some sort of publicity out of disturbing our family’s mourning, I’m not giving that to you.” All Trey could think about was how angry he was… how the pen in his pocket made a hard lump against his thigh. How easy it would be to take another form and use the power of it to smash his face in… the force of it startled even him. He’d never gotten this angry before… not before his corruption, not before Rowan. He almost vibrated with it.
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