nysalogs | . all you have's your axe to grind . closed

[He's taking a dump. We've established this and no one said otherwise so there it is.

Takasugi makes himself comfortable without sitting, leaning against the table as is quickly becoming habit during his visits. As he watches Diva open her gift, he wonders tentatively if there's a risk of her ripping the garment as she tears.

Luckily, his silver isn't wasted so soon.

And if she gets it covered in blood, he won't be too disappointed.

Inside is a kimono and all necessary accessories. A hairpin falls to the table as she pulls out the bulk of the fabric.] Ever worn one before?

It's gorgeous...

_{[How cursed. Jenn is going to get back at you for this.

Holding up the garment against her she can't help but light up at how beautiful it is. It's definitely of a rather high quality. Not only are the blues vibrant but the fabric itself is soft and inviting. There's a shake of her head at the question, hugging the kimono to herself as she picks up the hairpin to inspect it as well.]}

Never. I've never worn any Eastern clothing before.

[He takes a dump but the first wipe comes out clean.

There I fixed it. A pristine shit.

There's more black to the ensemble than Diva usually wears, but with her hair put up, rather than cascading down her back, the proportion shouldn't be too strange. Commissioning a custom garment, there's no way in hell Takasugi was going to make something white with blue accents.

He's just to petty.

Sliding away from the table, Takasugi walks to Diva's side - closer than necessary - to pluck the hairpin from her hand. He holds it up near her forehead; the blue of the jewels compliments her eyes as well as he'd intended.]

Then I'll help you dress.

Your room? [A glance to the stairs, he assumes she's in the master suite.]

_{[There's a little nod as she hugs the kimono to her chest, thumbing the fabric absentmindedly as she follows Takasugi's gaze. His assumption will prove to be correct - Diva absolutely was given the master suite, and while it isn't very big in her and Solomon's little Victorian style house, its decadent decoration makes up for it. It's not like she has much in the means of possessions. There's a canopy style bed in the middle of the room, along with a dresser and oval mirror atop it. Her closet is small, but seems to be big enough for the number of dresses and shoes she has within it.

Gesturing for Takasugi to follow her she sits on the end of her bed expectantly, waiting to be told what to do. Should she begin to peel herself out of her clothes or was he going to do it?]}

[It isn't difficult to store an expansive wardrobe when one often tarnishes clothing beyond repair. Diva is worse in that regard than Solomon, but they're both particular about their adornments, and both too monstrous to be contained in such fragility.

At least she does so gleefully.

The 'norm' of a western room isn't an aesthetic concept Takasugi is familiar with. What elements of the bedroom are to Diva's choice, and what are simply furnishings of the house, he doesn't know.

But the scenery suits her.]

You'll need to take everything off. [He's brought up what she left behind - an array of smaller swaths of fabric, sandals, and the hairpin. Leaving them on the dresser, he takes the kimono from her and drapes it over his arm.

Rather than watch her strip, Takasugi sets the items in order, eye intermittently flicking to the mirror to check her progress.]

_{[While other girls might be averse to changing in front of a man period, Diva doesn't give the order a second though, slipping from the edge of the mattress to her feet. There's no time wasted as she begins to pull her dress off, bra following soon after as each garment finds itself on the floor. It's only when her fingers find the waistband of her panties does she slow her strip. Unless Takasugi stops her though, those will come off too.

He had said everything, after all.]}

[Takasugi hadn't expected any complaint - Diva has never shown concern for her privacy, or reverence for her body. If she'd let herself grind against him in the midst of a celebration, she'd strip eagerly to wear a pretty outfit.

He does catch her fingers wiggling into her panties,] That's enough.

[Turning, he lifts the kimono like a shroud around her, as he's concerned for her decency.] You don't need to take those off.

Your arms, then turn around. [He raises the sleeves for her to pull her arms through, a golden cord folded over his elbow sliding down his yukata as he moves.]

Oh. I don't?

_{[She pauses her peeling of garments when she finds her fingers caught by his, pulling them away from her hips to hold them against her chest. Out her arms go as she watches him slide the sleeves over them, the fabric smooth and soft against her skin. With her arms covered she turns as instructed, curious as to how he'll go about securing it shut. So far it feels pretty nice on - comfortable and freeing.]}

[With her back turned him, Takasugi leans forward. His shoulders meet hers as he tugs one side of the kimono over the other, crossing them in the front. Once, with some adjustment, is all it takes to fit her form.

Then comes the cord, held against her waist as he guides it around, his knuckles flush to fabric, overlapping it in the front to circle back to him.

After tying a knot that's firm, but not tight, he steps back to the rest of the ensemble.] Stay still, this won't take long.

[It doesn't take much time at all to wrap fabric, then obi, then cord. With each layer his touch lingers longer, and his attention seems to grow more distant.

Somehow, this has become nostalgic, despite him never really doing this much back home.

With the final knot adjusted, he steps away, allows a path between Diva and the mirror.] Go ahead and look.

Then we'll do your hair.

_{[To Diva's credit she stays rather still, not daring to move an inch as he wraps her in the robe and ties the garment securely to her body. Even with the wrappings around her middle she still feels comfortable in the kimono, unable to resist the urge to flap her arms just a bit.

When she does face the mirror the gasp that escapes her is more than audible. Immediately a grin spreads to her face, fangs peaking out as she does so.]}

It's so...pretty! I feel like a butterfly!

[If Western nobility is anything like high society in Edo, then Diva would be accustomed to others dressing her. She's still, not cooing over the beauty of her sleeves or the feel of silk against her skin - Takasugi assumes the comparison is accurate.

It would have been a pain if she'd fidgeted while he'd dressed her, but the grin she wears now is satisfying.

He looks over her shoulder, circling around to rustle through drawers for a hairbrush.] Mm...

Quite the dangerous butterfly, aren't you? [Not the type with transient beauty, or the sort that thrives in hoards. A radiant monster.]

Sit.

_{[Could butterflies be dangerous? It's a question Diva wants to ask, but feels as if she'll be seen as stupid if she does. Instead she keeps it to herself, focusing on the order she's given instead. For one with the title of 'queen' Diva's awfully good at following orders when she wants to. Then again, she'd been trained to, in a bid to at least rein in some of her more monstrous qualities.

Down she goes, sitting as told, hands folded in her lap.]}

What sort of style are you going to give me?

[Quiet and obedient, Diva wears beauty as if it were made for her. Swathed in fine silk, intricate coloration bold yet fragile, poised in the image of respect, she looks almost like a doll. A ghost-

The vision slows him, nostalgia a weight Takasugi doesn't carry with finesse.

He looks her over, one hand extending to brush some hair from her face, thumb to cheek.] Japanese.

It will suit you. [His hand lingers, a slow caress before he circles back and begins to brush. First to strip tangles, and then to add sheen - the style isn't something he's ever given someone before. But he's watched girls do it themselves, and with a little trial and error, her hair is spun into an updo somewhere between traditional and casual.

Leaning over her shoulder, he reaches for the hairpin to add the final adornment.]

_{[Would it?

It seemed to suit Saya well enough, to the point somehow her twin had managed to integrate herself into Japanese society, even going so far as to attend school. If a Japanese style was good enough for Saya, surely she could pull it off too.

There's a pleased little hum that escapes her as she relaxes into Takasugi's touch, curious as to what she'll look like when he's done. As weird as Takasugi can be, his aesthetics seem to like up with hers more often than not.]}

Well? How is it?

_{[She hasn't looked yet.]}

[Before taking a step back, Takasugi follows the curve of the kimono's collar, stark against pale skin. It's a fragile juxtaposition, reliant entirely on the poise she's upheld this far.

He knows her better to expect her posture to remain impeccable through the day. A wild creature can only contain themselves for so long.

But she wears the ugliness of ruined beauty well, too.]

Mmn- [A hum, satisfied.]

Tell me what you think. [He backs away, the space between her and her mirror now left for Diva to make her own judgement.]

_{[When he steps away Diva takes the opportunity to look at herself in the mirror, standing to get as much of a full length view as she can. She...looks beautiful, the silhouette of the kimono and her pinned up hair suiting her. She gives herself a spin, a look over her shoulder in the mirror at the hairpin, her lips splitting into a grin.]}

I look like a doll. Absolutely gorgeous!

_{[She likes it.]}

[When she stands, the fabric hardly sways. It's wrapped tight, though repeated sudden movements will jostle it a bit loose. Much like the yukata Takasugi usually wears, it could fall open to some degree.

This style is meant for subtle motion, a delicacy that Diva only appears to have.

She's far more dynamic in her expression - of exuberance, of violence - than any traditional beauty.]

You can enjoy yourself all you want. [Wear it for tea, or go out and kill a guy - both would satisfy him.]

Do you want to show him? [Solomon. Who isn't home, but that's what texts are for.]

Solomon?

_{[Who else would Takasugi be referring to?]}

I want to! I want to show everyone. Reign, Atsushi, JJ...I want them to see how beautiful I look, Shinsuke.

[That's quite the list, and none of them are familiar to him. If there had been just one additional recipient, Takasugi may have asked about them, but he doesn't want to hear Diva rave about every suitor who comes to her doorstep.]

Heh, I'm sure they'll all adore it.

Though, they won't be surprised. [Flattery, of the more subtle sort. He takes out his device, framing her on the screen - a test of lighting - before lowering it.]

I'll leave the pose up to you. [A classical portrait style would suit the kimono best, but she may be almost unrecognizable in such a static state.]

You don't think they'll be surprised?

_{[Maybe not by her beauty, but the outfit was certainly a deviation from her usual norm. It's easy enough to choose a pose, used to having to sit for portraits in the past. She opts to sit on the edge of the end of her bed, the canopy curtains draped elegantly behind her. She sits like a proper lady should, although her expression is one that gives away too much delight to the camera lens.]}

What do you think? Do I look presentable?

[She looks like she's barely stifling a laugh, her lips wavering and twitching. In the first picture he takes, she's absolutely terrifying. Eyes too wide, a hint of teeth.

He'll send that one to Solomon.]

Relax.

Smile if you want to. [There's no holding to traditional style anyway, given her features, so why create a facsimile of it.]

_{[Maybe Solomon'll print it off and stick it on the fridge.

She's told to relax and so she does her best to, letting her expression fall into one that's a bit more refined and reserved. Her smile is far smaller, mouth closed with just a hint of fang peeking out.

Perhaps that'd do?]}

[He hadn't expected restraint, when she's bidden to do as she pleases. To relax, and abandon decorum. Something more akin to the wide, hungry grin she'd wore when he'd run into her, covered in blood and feeding.

Or something as genuine - not picturesque - as the previous shot.

She impresses him, and with a hum, he snaps a few more pictures. They're sent to her device immediately.] Show whoever you want.

I'm sure they'll all be happy to see you. [Clad in clothing he'd chosen, his interest in her marked, ever so subtly.]

Who wouldn't be happy to see me?

_{[Ah, her cocky nature is showing. She leans back, relaxing her pose into something far more natural and fitting of her true nature.]}

I'm gorgeous. You've just made me even more so.

[It's endearing. Takasugi cocks his head, snapping a single picture of that relaxed state and sending it along with the rest.

It isn't that she looks better at ease - she's always beautiful.]

Shouldn't you be thanking me, then?

[He approaches to lean near her, one knee on the bed bearing all of his weight while simply looks at her. Eyes skimming her jawline, her lips, as carefully as a caress.]

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