[Log] Ulquiorra Schiffer, Lisa Yadomaru,
Title: An Interesting Request
Characters: Ulquiorra Schiffer,(
day_eight) Lisa Yadomaru, (
kaphinated)
Timeline: Friday, April 7, 1950
Rating: G
Summary: Ulquiorra's not so innocent request gets Lisa thinking about her day job - but which one?
Ulquiorra marked one last straight, perfect line on the blueprint in front of him before sitting back and looking over the completed project. Reaching forward, he smoothed his long fingers over the paper and brushed a few eraser shavings to the floor, his eyes scanning the print for any errors that he might have missed. The drawing was absolutely flawless, as was to be expected. Neatly rolling the paper into a tube, he secured it with a rubber band and set it next to the other projects that he had finished that day. He took a deep breath and folded his hands in his lap, satisfied with his accomplishment. Not only had he finished the work that he had planned to do, but he had also managed to complete two things that had not been on his list. It had been a productive day.
Taking out a key from his pocket, he unlocked the top drawer of his desk and pulled out the binder that held his itinerary for his other job - the less legitimate one. His calloused hands opened the slim folder, his fingers seeking out the list of things he needed to do before he could call it a night. His cyan gaze immediately fell on one of the easier tasks, a simple phone call.
Getting up out of his chair, the consigliere walked over to the door and opened it, stepping out in front of his secretary's desk with his hands seated in his pockets. "Miss Gleason, I'm going to make a few calls. I'd rather not be disturbed, unless something comes up that is too important to wait until tomorrow."
Miss Gleason, who preferred being called "Shelly," nodded enthusiastically, her crimson hair spilling across her shoulders with the movement. Ulquiorra had told her several times to please wear her hair up while she was at work, but she kept insisting... He turned on his heel and walked back into his office, barely registering the silly grin on her freckled face. Her skills as a secretary outweighed the fact that she was incredibly stubborn about her hair.
Settling back into his leather chair, the sombre brunet reached for the phone and dialled the number for the Senbonzakura. He glanced at the clock as he heard the first ring sound through the ear piece. It was exactly quarter past four; someone competent was sure to answer the hotel's main line at such an early hour.
Sitting back with a small, satisfied sigh, Lisa surveyed her long, freshly tidied desk at the Senbonzakura reception. Having finally cleared the carnage resulting from that morning’s early rush of check-outs and carefully checked her papers, she finally felt the familiar relief, the contentment, of knowing everything was in order - back to its rightful place.
The chaos of maintaining so many roles, in multiple contrasting lives, was exhilarating. She felt her most alive, most in her element, when she was running on little more than her own keen wits and sharp tongue, ready to take on a fresh battle against the onslaught of conflicting needs. And, as ever, the neatly sorted papers and stacked files was her reward for yet another victory.
Lisa checked lists with an almost religious reverence. They were her most powerful weapon against one of her aspects from falling apart, or even worse - two crashing - and ensured that the machine kept on turning smoothly. Sometimes she thought of it as a carefully choreographed dance, or more accurately, the calculated trajectory of many orbiting planets - completely isolated worlds spinning - and the destruction that occur should they ever collide.
The dark haired woman loved all the parts of her life; the indispensable and dependable aide, the fatal but furtive vigilant, and the infamous yet seductive mistress of ill-fame. There was no one part that could be singled out as the “true” her, they were all merely facets of a single whole. It was being all of these that she loved the most.
The loud ringing of the desk telephone brought her round from her idle musings, bringing her back to sharp focus. She placed a hand on the receiver and waited for the end of the second ring.
“Good afternoon, Senbonzakura Hotel. How may I help you?”
The female voice that came through the phone sounded like that of Miss Yadomaru, the hostess of Senbonzakura's supper club and the manager of one of the hotels... other... services. Ulquiorra crossed his legs at the ankles and cleared his throat, twisting the phone's cord around one of his pale fingers. He had spoken to Miss Yadomaru several times before, booking accommodations for various associates who were important to the Concavos. This call would be no different.
"Yes," he replied, his voice indifferent, bordering on cold. "This is Ulquiorra Schiffer. I'm calling to book a room, from the..." He glanced at his notes. "...thirteenth of this month through the eighteenth."
Pausing for a second, he cleared his throat again, giving the young woman enough time to write the information down. "The reservation is for Hiruma Youichi and Mushashi. These two gentlemen are important guests of my employer, and I'd appreciate it if any requests they make during their stay are promptly fulfilled."
The said "gentlemen" were actually members of the Yakuza. They were coming to New York to help the Concavos solve the mystery behind Kisuke Urahara's success, but Miss Yadomaru didn't need to know that little piece of information. The nature of Hiruma and Musashi's stay at the Senbonzakura was to remain a secret to all but a select group of people. Mainly, the two gentlemen themselves, Mr. Aizen, Gin Ichimaru, and of course, Ulquiorra.
Looking down at his notes again, the consigliere adjusted the phone against his ear and continued. "On the lines of requests," he said matter-of-factly, "they have made it known to me that they would like to stay in your Honeymoon Suite. Will it be available for those dates?"
Lisa noted the details down on the cherry blossom headed note paper in her usual spidery script.
She had instantly recognised the caller as Ulquiorra Schiffer, more by his tone than his actual voice. In their repeated contact, the pale architect had always used the same brusque, some might even say rude, manner - but Lisa for one certainly appreciated the efficient and businesslike style. As someone with little time for idle pleasantries herself it was refreshing to be able to deal with simple facts without the need to flourish them with small talk and the insincere concern for the average punter.
(Although she was sure that the majority of her customers - both legitimate and otherwise were probably completely oblivious, and were satisfied by her falsified dedication to their happiness.)
“Certainly, Mr Schiffer. As ever, I shall attend to the details myself,” she murmured, pinning the phone between cheek and narrow shoulder.
The mention of the honeymoon suit however caught her attention and she grasped the receiver properly and adjusted it in case she had misheard.
“If the gentlemen in question would require a larger room there are a number of alternatives available at the Senbonzakura that may be more … suitable for their requirements. We offer a Presidential suite that is of similar size but is decorated in a more … more appropriate manner for those on business,” she said, choosing her words carefully.
The brunette’s eyes narrowed in concentration, framed by thin rimmed glasses, as many thoughts whirred unseen behind them. Countless questions burst forward from a natural curiosity, tempered by many months of secretly sleuthing trying to trace Murder Inc. targets.
As someone who spent so much of her time scouring information, looking for her own tell-tale errors Lisa had developed an instinct at seeing when something was amiss, and now that familiar creeping on her skin was telling her to look closer.
Who were these people? Why the honeymoon suite? Was it any of her business? And more to the point, could she make it her business?
It was mildly suspicious, and definitely intriguing, but perhaps it was better to leave it be - she would find out soon enough.
She glanced down at the bookings ledger beside her, long fingers quickly finding the dates in question.
“However, both suites are available on the dates in question, which would you prefer?”
Ah, yes. Ulquiorra stiffened fractionally. He was fully aware of how strange it would be for two members of the male gender to occupy the Honeymoon Suite while supposedly on a business trip. His fingers tightened around the phone's chord as he sat up in his chair. Personally, he found the odd request a bit distasteful, but he was not the one to blame for it, either. Hiruma and Musashi wanted that particular suite; why and what for was none of Ulquiorra's business. He didn't care about the personal lives of others, as long as they weren't interfering with his own agenda. If the two Yakuza wanted the Honeymoon Suite, then he would book it for them, with no questions asked. Keeping the two men happy would, hopefully, ensure that they would try their hardest to help the Concavos with this little... problem.
"The Honeymoon Suite," he confirmed. He moved the phone to his other ear and added, "Hiruma Youichi is a Japanese entertainer, and Musashi his ever-present bodyguard. Like many entertainers, Hiruma has... eclectic tastes. I apologize if his fascination with this particular suite will cause you any inconvenience."
Under normal circumstances, Ulquiorra would not have felt the need to expound on his answer, but the current situation warranted a bit more explanation. It would not be in the best interest of any of the parties involved for anyone to become suspicious of the reasoning behind Hiruma and Mushashi's stay at the Senbonzakura. He was determined to make their visit seem normal and nonchalant - in spite of their odd taste in rooms.
Lisa’s eyebrows arched in mild surprise and wry amusement, so the Honeymoon Suite it was.
She smirked at the idea of the frigid and professional business man having to explain his associates’ outlandish request, imagining him uncomfortable and finding it all rather unseemly.
Poor thing, she could just see him squirming at his desk, a slight flushing of pale skin, his low and emotionless voice outlining exactly what obscene acts would happen in that room in husky tones… she shook her dark head before the shadier side of her mind began furnishing her fantasy with even more sordid details, an unusual occupational hazard.
“Of course, it’s no problem at all; I will make the reservation immediately, using your usual account details,” the brunette’s cool voice betraying none of the heat of her earlier thoughts.
She paused briefly, licking her lips, now unable to contain her mischievousness, before purring “If you have anything else - anything at all - please do not hesitate to contact me, and I’ll handle it personally.”
If some fruity entertainer and his “body guard” wanted the honeymoon suite, let him have it. Lisa certainly didn’t have any qualms about what people did in their own bedrooms, or that of the hotel, for that matter. The courtesan found society’s feigned prudishness and puritanical values laughable, knowing all too well that most people certainly didn’t practice what they preached.
“Well thank you for your call and your continued faith in the Senbonzakura” she said with finality that made it clear she had everything she needed, and replaced the receiver.
The proud desk manager sat back once again contented, knowing that her employer would probably be pleased, in his own understated way, that Ulquiorra Schiffer had once again sent his business to his prestige hotel.
Still a part of her, that soldier part, sensed there was something not quite right with this picture; it all seemed a little bit too conspicuous, like a manufactured cover story designed to distract you from the truth. That was the question really: were they hoods or homos? Only time would tell.
Characters: Ulquiorra Schiffer,(
day_eight) Lisa Yadomaru, (
kaphinated)
Timeline: Friday, April 7, 1950
Rating: G
Summary: Ulquiorra's not so innocent request gets Lisa thinking about her day job - but which one?
Ulquiorra marked one last straight, perfect line on the blueprint in front of him before sitting back and looking over the completed project. Reaching forward, he smoothed his long fingers over the paper and brushed a few eraser shavings to the floor, his eyes scanning the print for any errors that he might have missed. The drawing was absolutely flawless, as was to be expected. Neatly rolling the paper into a tube, he secured it with a rubber band and set it next to the other projects that he had finished that day. He took a deep breath and folded his hands in his lap, satisfied with his accomplishment. Not only had he finished the work that he had planned to do, but he had also managed to complete two things that had not been on his list. It had been a productive day.
Taking out a key from his pocket, he unlocked the top drawer of his desk and pulled out the binder that held his itinerary for his other job - the less legitimate one. His calloused hands opened the slim folder, his fingers seeking out the list of things he needed to do before he could call it a night. His cyan gaze immediately fell on one of the easier tasks, a simple phone call.
Getting up out of his chair, the consigliere walked over to the door and opened it, stepping out in front of his secretary's desk with his hands seated in his pockets. "Miss Gleason, I'm going to make a few calls. I'd rather not be disturbed, unless something comes up that is too important to wait until tomorrow."
Miss Gleason, who preferred being called "Shelly," nodded enthusiastically, her crimson hair spilling across her shoulders with the movement. Ulquiorra had told her several times to please wear her hair up while she was at work, but she kept insisting... He turned on his heel and walked back into his office, barely registering the silly grin on her freckled face. Her skills as a secretary outweighed the fact that she was incredibly stubborn about her hair.
Settling back into his leather chair, the sombre brunet reached for the phone and dialled the number for the Senbonzakura. He glanced at the clock as he heard the first ring sound through the ear piece. It was exactly quarter past four; someone competent was sure to answer the hotel's main line at such an early hour.
Sitting back with a small, satisfied sigh, Lisa surveyed her long, freshly tidied desk at the Senbonzakura reception. Having finally cleared the carnage resulting from that morning’s early rush of check-outs and carefully checked her papers, she finally felt the familiar relief, the contentment, of knowing everything was in order - back to its rightful place.
The chaos of maintaining so many roles, in multiple contrasting lives, was exhilarating. She felt her most alive, most in her element, when she was running on little more than her own keen wits and sharp tongue, ready to take on a fresh battle against the onslaught of conflicting needs. And, as ever, the neatly sorted papers and stacked files was her reward for yet another victory.
Lisa checked lists with an almost religious reverence. They were her most powerful weapon against one of her aspects from falling apart, or even worse - two crashing - and ensured that the machine kept on turning smoothly. Sometimes she thought of it as a carefully choreographed dance, or more accurately, the calculated trajectory of many orbiting planets - completely isolated worlds spinning - and the destruction that occur should they ever collide.
The dark haired woman loved all the parts of her life; the indispensable and dependable aide, the fatal but furtive vigilant, and the infamous yet seductive mistress of ill-fame. There was no one part that could be singled out as the “true” her, they were all merely facets of a single whole. It was being all of these that she loved the most.
The loud ringing of the desk telephone brought her round from her idle musings, bringing her back to sharp focus. She placed a hand on the receiver and waited for the end of the second ring.
“Good afternoon, Senbonzakura Hotel. How may I help you?”
The female voice that came through the phone sounded like that of Miss Yadomaru, the hostess of Senbonzakura's supper club and the manager of one of the hotels... other... services. Ulquiorra crossed his legs at the ankles and cleared his throat, twisting the phone's cord around one of his pale fingers. He had spoken to Miss Yadomaru several times before, booking accommodations for various associates who were important to the Concavos. This call would be no different.
"Yes," he replied, his voice indifferent, bordering on cold. "This is Ulquiorra Schiffer. I'm calling to book a room, from the..." He glanced at his notes. "...thirteenth of this month through the eighteenth."
Pausing for a second, he cleared his throat again, giving the young woman enough time to write the information down. "The reservation is for Hiruma Youichi and Mushashi. These two gentlemen are important guests of my employer, and I'd appreciate it if any requests they make during their stay are promptly fulfilled."
The said "gentlemen" were actually members of the Yakuza. They were coming to New York to help the Concavos solve the mystery behind Kisuke Urahara's success, but Miss Yadomaru didn't need to know that little piece of information. The nature of Hiruma and Musashi's stay at the Senbonzakura was to remain a secret to all but a select group of people. Mainly, the two gentlemen themselves, Mr. Aizen, Gin Ichimaru, and of course, Ulquiorra.
Looking down at his notes again, the consigliere adjusted the phone against his ear and continued. "On the lines of requests," he said matter-of-factly, "they have made it known to me that they would like to stay in your Honeymoon Suite. Will it be available for those dates?"
Lisa noted the details down on the cherry blossom headed note paper in her usual spidery script.
She had instantly recognised the caller as Ulquiorra Schiffer, more by his tone than his actual voice. In their repeated contact, the pale architect had always used the same brusque, some might even say rude, manner - but Lisa for one certainly appreciated the efficient and businesslike style. As someone with little time for idle pleasantries herself it was refreshing to be able to deal with simple facts without the need to flourish them with small talk and the insincere concern for the average punter.
(Although she was sure that the majority of her customers - both legitimate and otherwise were probably completely oblivious, and were satisfied by her falsified dedication to their happiness.)
“Certainly, Mr Schiffer. As ever, I shall attend to the details myself,” she murmured, pinning the phone between cheek and narrow shoulder.
The mention of the honeymoon suit however caught her attention and she grasped the receiver properly and adjusted it in case she had misheard.
“If the gentlemen in question would require a larger room there are a number of alternatives available at the Senbonzakura that may be more … suitable for their requirements. We offer a Presidential suite that is of similar size but is decorated in a more … more appropriate manner for those on business,” she said, choosing her words carefully.
The brunette’s eyes narrowed in concentration, framed by thin rimmed glasses, as many thoughts whirred unseen behind them. Countless questions burst forward from a natural curiosity, tempered by many months of secretly sleuthing trying to trace Murder Inc. targets.
As someone who spent so much of her time scouring information, looking for her own tell-tale errors Lisa had developed an instinct at seeing when something was amiss, and now that familiar creeping on her skin was telling her to look closer.
Who were these people? Why the honeymoon suite? Was it any of her business? And more to the point, could she make it her business?
It was mildly suspicious, and definitely intriguing, but perhaps it was better to leave it be - she would find out soon enough.
She glanced down at the bookings ledger beside her, long fingers quickly finding the dates in question.
“However, both suites are available on the dates in question, which would you prefer?”
Ah, yes. Ulquiorra stiffened fractionally. He was fully aware of how strange it would be for two members of the male gender to occupy the Honeymoon Suite while supposedly on a business trip. His fingers tightened around the phone's chord as he sat up in his chair. Personally, he found the odd request a bit distasteful, but he was not the one to blame for it, either. Hiruma and Musashi wanted that particular suite; why and what for was none of Ulquiorra's business. He didn't care about the personal lives of others, as long as they weren't interfering with his own agenda. If the two Yakuza wanted the Honeymoon Suite, then he would book it for them, with no questions asked. Keeping the two men happy would, hopefully, ensure that they would try their hardest to help the Concavos with this little... problem.
"The Honeymoon Suite," he confirmed. He moved the phone to his other ear and added, "Hiruma Youichi is a Japanese entertainer, and Musashi his ever-present bodyguard. Like many entertainers, Hiruma has... eclectic tastes. I apologize if his fascination with this particular suite will cause you any inconvenience."
Under normal circumstances, Ulquiorra would not have felt the need to expound on his answer, but the current situation warranted a bit more explanation. It would not be in the best interest of any of the parties involved for anyone to become suspicious of the reasoning behind Hiruma and Mushashi's stay at the Senbonzakura. He was determined to make their visit seem normal and nonchalant - in spite of their odd taste in rooms.
Lisa’s eyebrows arched in mild surprise and wry amusement, so the Honeymoon Suite it was.
She smirked at the idea of the frigid and professional business man having to explain his associates’ outlandish request, imagining him uncomfortable and finding it all rather unseemly.
Poor thing, she could just see him squirming at his desk, a slight flushing of pale skin, his low and emotionless voice outlining exactly what obscene acts would happen in that room in husky tones… she shook her dark head before the shadier side of her mind began furnishing her fantasy with even more sordid details, an unusual occupational hazard.
“Of course, it’s no problem at all; I will make the reservation immediately, using your usual account details,” the brunette’s cool voice betraying none of the heat of her earlier thoughts.
She paused briefly, licking her lips, now unable to contain her mischievousness, before purring “If you have anything else - anything at all - please do not hesitate to contact me, and I’ll handle it personally.”
If some fruity entertainer and his “body guard” wanted the honeymoon suite, let him have it. Lisa certainly didn’t have any qualms about what people did in their own bedrooms, or that of the hotel, for that matter. The courtesan found society’s feigned prudishness and puritanical values laughable, knowing all too well that most people certainly didn’t practice what they preached.
“Well thank you for your call and your continued faith in the Senbonzakura” she said with finality that made it clear she had everything she needed, and replaced the receiver.
The proud desk manager sat back once again contented, knowing that her employer would probably be pleased, in his own understated way, that Ulquiorra Schiffer had once again sent his business to his prestige hotel.
Still a part of her, that soldier part, sensed there was something not quite right with this picture; it all seemed a little bit too conspicuous, like a manufactured cover story designed to distract you from the truth. That was the question really: were they hoods or homos? Only time would tell.