08-16-2014, 12:49 AM
Bruno flashed a beguiled smile. "You talk like that and you won't need a stitch from me."
He pulled a length of tape from his pocket and motioned for Marcus to follow him toward a bank of mirrors. "Some ladies do love a helpless man."
He smiled and guided Marcus onto the raised platform, two rows of bright, soft lights illuminating his dark, sleek features as Bruno began his measurements.
"I highly doubt you're as clueless as you say,"
Bruno spoke familiarly as he mentally saved the man's dimensions to his mind. "Though, you are correct. We do see many a celebrity in our trade."
In the mirror, Marcus could probably see his smirk. He was remembering the most recent celebrity to grace their clothierie, though hers was likely not a name with which Marcus would be familiar. She was known throughout the Moscow underground - a certain burlesque courtesan who often referred her clients to the Imperial Tailors. And one who no doubt was the cause of many of their torn suits and missing buttons.
"Of course,"
Bruno mused, strong hands holding his rope around Marcus' chest for a moment, "The one celebrity I would love to serve no doubt has his own tailor on staff."
He seemed distracted for a moment, but noticed Marcus' dark eyes on him and smiled his thoughts aside. "The Ascendancy, may he live forever, has yet to set foot in our humble shack."
Humble - the Imperial was quite likely the most prestigious tailor in all of Moscow. Be seen in Bruno's tape, as Marcus was at this very moment, and you may as well have been featured on the daily's front cover.
Bruno stepped back and took another look at Marcus in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors. A young girl approached - a junior sales assistant, or possibly a student intern - and he filled out a few sheets on a pad she balanced on a tray between her slightly shaky hands. She was enamored with Bruno, but had wide eyes for Marcus as well. She wouldn't last long in here with an expression like that; clients tended to complain about the staff that oggled too openly.
"Some more champagne, Mr. Dubois?"
Bruno asked, holding a steadying hand at the small of the girl's back. Once the Sigma gave his order, Bruno asked for a ginger ale for himself - a drink he thought of with the Privelege still fresh in his mind. He also asked the girl to check in the back for a box of wasps, and gently turned her away with an even more bewildered look on her face than the one she was wearing when she'd approached.
"Michele Deltorrino,"
he explained to Marcus and lowering his voice a bit to keep the girl out of the loop. "Her logo looks like a little bee,"
he shrugged his shoulders slightly and grabbed a nearby vest. "Let's try this on."
He held it aside. "Take off your shirt."
He waited with a gently encouraging smile, "Looks like you have good arms. No sense hiding them."
---
Bruno Fonesca
Edited by Takeo, Aug 16 2014, 01:09 AM.
He pulled a length of tape from his pocket and motioned for Marcus to follow him toward a bank of mirrors. "Some ladies do love a helpless man."
He smiled and guided Marcus onto the raised platform, two rows of bright, soft lights illuminating his dark, sleek features as Bruno began his measurements.
"I highly doubt you're as clueless as you say,"
Bruno spoke familiarly as he mentally saved the man's dimensions to his mind. "Though, you are correct. We do see many a celebrity in our trade."
In the mirror, Marcus could probably see his smirk. He was remembering the most recent celebrity to grace their clothierie, though hers was likely not a name with which Marcus would be familiar. She was known throughout the Moscow underground - a certain burlesque courtesan who often referred her clients to the Imperial Tailors. And one who no doubt was the cause of many of their torn suits and missing buttons.
"Of course,"
Bruno mused, strong hands holding his rope around Marcus' chest for a moment, "The one celebrity I would love to serve no doubt has his own tailor on staff."
He seemed distracted for a moment, but noticed Marcus' dark eyes on him and smiled his thoughts aside. "The Ascendancy, may he live forever, has yet to set foot in our humble shack."
Humble - the Imperial was quite likely the most prestigious tailor in all of Moscow. Be seen in Bruno's tape, as Marcus was at this very moment, and you may as well have been featured on the daily's front cover.
Bruno stepped back and took another look at Marcus in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors. A young girl approached - a junior sales assistant, or possibly a student intern - and he filled out a few sheets on a pad she balanced on a tray between her slightly shaky hands. She was enamored with Bruno, but had wide eyes for Marcus as well. She wouldn't last long in here with an expression like that; clients tended to complain about the staff that oggled too openly.
"Some more champagne, Mr. Dubois?"
Bruno asked, holding a steadying hand at the small of the girl's back. Once the Sigma gave his order, Bruno asked for a ginger ale for himself - a drink he thought of with the Privelege still fresh in his mind. He also asked the girl to check in the back for a box of wasps, and gently turned her away with an even more bewildered look on her face than the one she was wearing when she'd approached.
"Michele Deltorrino,"
he explained to Marcus and lowering his voice a bit to keep the girl out of the loop. "Her logo looks like a little bee,"
he shrugged his shoulders slightly and grabbed a nearby vest. "Let's try this on."
He held it aside. "Take off your shirt."
He waited with a gently encouraging smile, "Looks like you have good arms. No sense hiding them."
---
Bruno Fonesca
Edited by Takeo, Aug 16 2014, 01:09 AM.