Clamour for glamour

[nomorekaraoke]

Walking down a dimly lit street along which he's never walked before, Lorne gets the weirdest sense of déjà vu. He's been in these shoes, walked in them for more miles than he'd care to count, but he's seldom felt as embarrassed as he does now.

Him, ask anyone for a charm to make him seem human? Him. The guy who'll gladly make a pun at his own greenness, but would never give it up for all the money in the world? The demon who flaunts everything he's got, who makes excuses to no one... To think he'd come this far, sink this low, grow so desperate.

But it's a straw he's more than willing to grasp for.

If that Mister Someone is out there in the big, big world, he can't limit his searching to the gloom and doom of nighttime nookie. He can't spend his days locked up somewhere far above the city streets where that dream man could pass on by unnoticed.

He needs added oomph. He needs to be able to go out in the sun. Meet new people, and have a little faith.

You gotta have faith. He walks up to the house, all the way up to the door, lifts his hand to the doorbell-- And presses it.

This is it.

Comments

[sunnydalealum]

The intercom next to the doorbell crackles. "Yes?" says a very noncommittal voice.

[nomorekaraoke]

He pushes the button, speaks into the intercom. Heart hammering as in sledge already. "I'm your one o'clock appointment. Green."

[sunnydalealum]

"Green it is," the voice answers, and the door buzzes. "Second floor."

Inside is a second door leading off to one side, and a stairway leading up.

[nomorekaraoke]

"Thanks." He reaches out to push the door open before the automatic unlock times out, and slips in. Every step of the way upstairs sounds like squeaky clown feet, but he's fairly confident no one will look twice if he's caught red eyed and green handed. Such things tend to go fuzzy around the edges when someone magically inclined sets up shop in the neighborhood.

Finally, he reaches his third and final door. This time he knocks on the door just to change things up.

[sunnydalealum]

"Yeah," calls a voice from inside.

[nomorekaraoke]

Well, Lorne supposes, it pays to be cautious. "It's Green. Can I come in?"

[sunnydalealum]

"You tell me." The voice doesn't sound like it's coming from anywhere near the door, but there's nonetheless a click and rattle as the door's unlocked.

[nomorekaraoke]

He can't help the small, amused smirk tugging at his lips as he opens the door and steps inside. At least he didn't invite himself in. Not that he'd need it like some people do. It's just about courtesy. He lifts his eyes and the smirk turns into a smile. "Oh, I'll tell you all about it, sugar. Don't get me started."

[sunnydalealum]

A laugh comes from a doorway to the right, which appears to lead into the kitchen. The man who comes to the doorway is (or looks) youngish, probably not over thirty. He's got the sleeves of his shabby gray turtleneck rolled up; one hand is streaked with soapsuds, and the other holds a dishtowel. "Sorry," he says. "You want to have a seat in the den? I'll be right there. Watch the floor," he adds over his shoulder, turning back into what is presumably the kitchen.

It's a useful warning: the floor in the den is strewn with, well, baby toys. Blocks, stuffed plush animals, sturdy picture books, miscellaneous brightly colored plastic shapes. What appears to be a purple duck is eyeing Lorne beadily from atop a low bookshelf.

[nomorekaraoke]

"Sure. Don't rush on my account, I don't mind." There's something inherently sexy about turtlenecks, and something entirely charming about the blatant domesticity of the flat. He takes off his coat and hat and gloves, leaves all of the above at the door, in good company with other similar examples of outerwear. The toddler toys, though... They bring back memories, good and bad and entirely adorable.

He feels better already, and takes a comfy seat in one of the homey armchairs. He shakes his head ruefully. Goes to show preconceptions are so passé it's ridiculous.

[sunnydalealum]

It's a minute or two before the sound of running water from the kitchen shuts off, and the man reappears, drying off his hands with that same ratty dishtowel. "Hi," he says, carefully stepping over a wooden toy train and perching on the edge of the couch. "Sorry I didn't get a chance to, uh, tidy up before you got here. You can call me Jake. I hear you're interested in a glamour?"

[nomorekaraoke]

"Don't worry about it. You wouldn't want to know what I forget to stuff away when I have people over," he replies easily, but business is business, and that's what he's here for, not to make new friends.

"I want the best glamour you can give me, Jake."

[sunnydalealum]

"Sure thing," Jake says cheerfully, wiping a last bit of dampness off his hands and draping the dishtowel absently around his neck. "You looking for object-oriented, personal, or environmental? I do all three."

[nomorekaraoke]

Lorne blinks, backpedals a bit, and decides not to be a nice, not fussy customer. "Be a darling, give it to me in layman's terms." He can make educated guesses, but he'd rather not take chances with something like this. It's too important, and from where he's standing, he's already been taking enough chances lately.

[sunnydalealum]

The faint curl to Jake's smile suggests that he was hoping for that very question.

"Tell you what -- I'll show you."

He tugs the dishtowel off of his neck and holds it up. "Object-oriented," he says, and the threadbare terrycloth shimmers into a square of patterned silk, even as the turtleneck and jeans shift into a business suit. "Personal," he adds, tucking the silk handkerchief into his breast pocket, as his hair slowly darkens from nondescript sandy to dark chocolate and his face narrows from its good-natured bland roundness to something sharper, more elegant, and about ten or fifteen years older.

"And," with a wave of his now-empty hands, "environmental."

The comfortably shabby armchair and couch are now impeccable dark red leather seats; the scuffed floorboards have turned into a wall-to-wall carpet, and there isn't a single child's toy to be seen anywhere.

[nomorekaraoke]

"Well, well, well." He looks around the living room, quite impressed, and once again wryly amused at his own preconceptions. "You do nice work," he says, running his fingers over the plush leather. "And to answer your question, I'm interested in the personal touch. I want to look human, and I want it to be so good people won't know a thing unless they cut me open."

Maybe sometimes it pays to be blunt.

[sunnydalealum]

Jake leans back into the cushiony embrace of his own chair, and smiles. "Unless, or even if? I can do you either."

Blunt for blunt, his tone says.

[nomorekaraoke]

Now that stops him short, cuts him off and leaves him hanging. Even if...

His eyes narrow into slits of red, but not in suspicion. In consideration. "It'd be a sticky situation either way, if paramedics mistake my liver for my heart."

[sunnydalealum]

"You wind up in the hands of human paramedics, friend, things could be a lot worse than that anyway."

He doesn't sound as though it particularly bothers him.

"But it's up to you."

[nomorekaraoke]

"That's a very good point."

He wonders how something can be so tempting and outright scary at the same time. To go out into the sunny day, for all intents and purposes looking like something he isn't.

"I don't want to look completely different." Bad phrasing, there, Smarty. "By which I mean, I like my features. They just need toning down a bit. Or a lot."

[sunnydalealum]

"So lose the Pylean color and texture, keep the general bone structure?" Jake's looking thoughtful now, studying Lorne's face like a canvas. "Could be done. Could be done. You want visual and tactile, I assume? Given any thought to scent?"

[nomorekaraoke]

"Uhuh." Lorne quirks his brow, features twitching in the beginning of some kind of expression he can't yet name. Scent? "It hadn't even occurred to me."

A beat. "When Alcina said you were good... I should have known she meant stellar."

[sunnydalealum]

"Oh, I'm sure she did." That sharp curve of smile again. "The lady doesn't deal in anything but the best."

[nomorekaraoke]

"And neither do I," he allows himself a similar smile, though he's liking the look of Jake's less and less. But to each his own. "So, what can you do about the way I smell?"

[sunnydalealum]

"Oh, I can make you smell human as easily as I can make you look and feel human. It's all part of the palette."

He leans forward again, lacing his fingers together. "Now before we go into any more detail about the appearance, we might want to talk about what kind of duration you're looking for."