[log] Shuuhei Hisagi, Hiyori Sarugaki
Title: New Guy, Familiar Number
Characters: Shuuhei Hisagi (calm_isolation ), Hiyori Sarugaki (shinebunny )
Timeline: April 21, 1950
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Shuuhei and Hiyori meet at his first day of work. Hiyori is not pleased - on two counts.
She was twitching, tapping her foot, anxious and irate. Today was not the best of morning to tell your waitress that she brought you a pop when you’d asked for an unsweetened iced tea.
“But, miss, I’m…” The poor, fat older man - obviously the type who avoided confrontation, and therefore the type that Hiyori was even more inclined to be irate with - was wringing his hands and trying to find the best way to phrase this - “I’m diabetic, miss. I really, really can’t drink this.”
She didn’t have to say a word: her lips pulled back into a feral snarl. More than enough for him. With a jerk his gaze left her and he stared down, wide-eyed, into his pop.
She snorted and roughly wiped her hands on her skirt. Today - oh, no, don’t even try to mess with her today.
Today was the day the new sap started work.
With a glare that could make a Rottweiler turn tail, Hiyori’s gaze went to the door. Standing in the doorway was The New Worker. He didn’t look like a complete sap, shy and stupid, but he looked out of place. Otherwise, he looked perfectly confident. Dark hair. Tallish. Muscular. Some kind of tattoos on his face. Must’ve thought he was a real hotshot.
Hiyori’s eyes flicked around the room. Kisuke was probably off doing something else - she growled under her breath. That meant it fell upon her to show this new number the ropes.
She trudged over to him. “Hey, you. New guy.”
It was his first official day on the job, and after making one quick scan of the room, he found the owner to be strangely missing. Shuuhei was checking his watch to make sure he wasn’t too early when he felt eyes on him.
Grey orbs looked up to meet the gaze of one angry looking blonde, who was glaring as she stomped toward him. ‘Hey, you. New Guy’. Well, that left little to question. Whatever she was mad about was now his problem.
Shuuhei had a few tricks up his sleeve, especially when it came to the ladies. He knew women seemed to respond to him, even though he was scarred and tattooed. If this tiny blonde was going to be his new co-worker, or--god forbid--his trainer, he wanted to start off on a good note. Despite her attitude, the lanky brunet offered a warm smile and held out one long-fingered hand, his voice pitched low and intimate. “Actually it is Shuuhei… Shuuhei Hisagi… Pleased to meet you, Miss?”
She deliberately crossed her arms, not allowing her eyes to leave his for a second. "Yeah, yeah. Shuuhei Hisagi, huh? What a weird name." Her eyes flicked over his face briefly, and her lips edged down from a straight, angry line to a frown.
69? Well, that was familiar. What was this sap doing walking around with Kensei's number? On his fuckin face? Who got tatoos on their face?
"What's with the tatoos? You got a fetish or somethin'?"
One brow arched in mild surprise before Shuuhei let his hands dropped back to his sides. Obviously charm or even general edict were unknown things to this hellcat. Not only had she not told him her name, she had insulted his own. It was in the brunet’s best interest, he decided, to finish this exchange was quickly as possible.
“My tattoo is a personal reminder, not a fetish. Perhaps you can help me though…Miss? I am looking for Mr. Urahara?” With that, gray eyes left the woman before him to scan the room over her head, a sliver of panic sliding through him. He really didn’t want the creature before him to be the one to show him the ropes.
She continued to stare with a cold eye. "Personal reminder? You make it sound like it's something other than a kinky tattoo. An' that's what it is." Her eyes left him and she looked around the room, a bit more quickly and agitated this time. "Kisuke's doin' somethin' else. Dammit. Dunno what that sap is up to, he should be here to show you 'round. " She wasn't usually so talkative, but she was annoyed, and when Hiyori was annoyed she could go on all day with insults. Instead of glaring around the room, she turned her eyes back to the new, tattooed employee.
"I'm kinda surprised he hired someone as rough-lookin' as you. You'll scare away the customers, for sure." She said it with a certain degree of smugness.
It took a lot to ruffle Shuuhei’s feathers, but obviously his new co-worker was a quick study. As much as he wanted to be on good terms with everyone here, knowing anyone could be a possible source of information, the brunet can’t help but poke back of her.
“Maybe Kisuke hired me because I look this way? You don’t look to threatening, probably wanted someone who looked rough to keep things in order…and who would get this tattoo just for the kink?” He couldn’t help tacking on the last question, he had honestly not thought of the other implications of his tattoo when he got it, but people always assumed he was a pervert now, it was a sore subject.
She wished Kisuke would show up and take care of him. He had insulted her and Hiyori was not one to let that lie. He would wish that Kisuke had gotten to him first, by the time she was done with him. Her tone took a dark turn for the worst, from unaffected to pissed.
"What did you just say?"
Finally a reaction. It was only fair that if she was going to pick at him he be able to pick at her, or was she like most girls, can dish it all night but can’t take a little spoonful herself. Shuuhei decided to play her card again and scowl looking around the room, not at her when he answered.
“I said who would get this tattoo just for the kink?”
Oh, damn, this idiot thought he was good. She gritted out a grin. Thought she was ugly, huh? He wasn't exactly a pretty boy himself. Maybe he was some girls' type, but to Hiyori's sexless view he was all muscle and ink and shifty eyes.
Now she just hated him and his muscle and kinky ink and shifty eyes all the more.
"Come on and I'll show you 'round."
The teeth cracking grin Blondie shared with him was pretty scary, and Shuuhei took back what he said about her. Cute as she was, all short, blonde, and young, she could still definitely be scary if she wanted too.
He nodded and focused all his attention back on her when she offered to show him around. Now they were getting somewhere.
“Right behind you.”
She ambled over to the bar, purposefully taking her time. Her mind was savoring the possibilities, lingering on the sweeter ones. It helped to soothe her anger.
Maybe she should tell him it was all an accident and that he should go home, because Kisuke didn't really want him. Yeah. It'd been dark, and Kisuke hadn't seen how ugly his face was - that'd be a good one, but he'd probably not believe it. Maybe she should just tell him to fuck off. Maybe she should tell him right off the bat that she was the one who called the shots around here. That wasn't entirely true, but it would be true enough, when Kisuke wasn't around. But, aw, he'd find that out soon enough - and it'd be more fun that way, too.
So instead she leaned back against the bar counter, an awkward position given her height. She smiled at him again to make up for any humor in her position. "What's your job, anyway? Your not gonna be needin' the bar much if your waiting tables. If you're bartendin', you'll need to know the ends and outs."
Hiyori was a hostess and waitress, but she'd had to bartend a couple of times when things in the joint had gotten real rowdy. She could probably show him the ups and downs well enough if that were the case.
Shuuhei followed her, keeping his pace even with her slow gliding walk. She acted like she owned this place, leaning back against the counter. It was apparent by the way she talked and acted that she probably ran things even if she didn’t own them, as long as she left him alone behind the bar they should get along fine, hopefully.
“Mr. Urahara hired me to tend the bar.” A small jerk of his chin to the domain behind her restated his point. He offered a small smile, trying to appease her ruffled feathers, and perhaps improve on future work conditions. “Would you mind showing me the ends and outs?”
She pressed her lips together and gave him a suspicious look. Was he trying to be friendly? Did it matter? Hell it didn’t - Hiyori was determined not to like him. She shrugged sharply and took a place behind the bar.
A bartender, then. No wonder he was such a schmooze. Bartenders could have the biggest heads, ‘specially Kisuke, when he worked the bar now and then. Hiyori didn’t come by much in tips on her nights working bar. Mostly because its little ins and outs puzzled and frustrated her, ending in an unpleasant experience for both Hiyori and the customer.
But now she projected an image of utter control and confidence.
“It’s all about charm,” she said pointedly, “It’s all about charmin’ the people so they want to come back, right? I don’t know if you’ve ever tended bar before, but that’s the heart of it. People don’t care how sloppy their drink is made if the person who makes it’s a real peach.” She snorted her annoyance at this, the golden rule of bartending. “Then again, ya need t’know all the mixes. That’s just practice.”
Shuuhei fought hard to keep the smile from ruining the small truce they seemed to have called. If bartending was about charm, and really it was, then the little blonde in front of him was the last person who should be showing him the ropes. The smile almost pushed through but at the last second Shuuhei was able to force it down and nod at her advice, following her behind the bar, to look at the lay of the land.
“So is there a policy on how heavy handed I should be with the booze?” He turns to the side facing Hiyori full on, his scarred face reflected in the mirror behind the bar. “This is a gambling establishment, so should I be more generous to encourage higher bets or should I hold it in a little?”
She turned and looked him in the eye. The act required her head to tilt at a dramatic angle. For a moment, she felt the pleasant, admiring pang of envy over all those scars. Tough. She'd have to admit that scars were a lot better than freckles, although if she had her way, secretly, she would take neither. She huffed.
"Kisuke's not above a little of that kinda thing. So yeah, do what you want." She made a mental note of this: condemnation number one: he's not honest. "You ever tended bar before?" Kisuke tended to hire people without any credentials (with herself as a living example), sometimes, she suspected, out of pure curiosity, love of fun, and sheer stupidity, but the bird could be a seasoned bartender for all that she knew.
Shuuhei nodded at the 'permission' to over pour the booze if need be, and looked around his eyes flowing over the bottled lined up next to him, recognizing most of the names though some were new to him.
A faint shrug and his eyes lighted back on the blond looking up a him. Now that she wasn't being so mean he realized she was kinda cute, if you liked short blond's with spunk, which wasn't exactly his cup of tea, but still.
"No" he finally answered her question worried that the attitude would come back with his lack of experience, but knowing she could probably catch his lie if he said he was an old hat at this. "Never tended bar before, but i have frequented a lot of them, that count for anything?"
She cocked her head at him. "You look charming," she said flatly, like it was a bad thing. It was. "You'll probably do fine. Like I said. That's the main trick." She turned back to the drink she was mixing, reaching over for the alcohol she wanted.
"Besides, the Lounge isn't a drink joint. It's more a fancy club place. Yeah, people drink, but they don't come here for the best damn whiskey they've ever had. It's for the entertainment. The flair." She snorted and mumbled under her breath, "Kisuke loves his fuckin' flair." She mixed the drink a little too viciously. He was going to do great. The people were going to love. That's what got her so wound up. Kisuke would not fire him if he excelled at his job - hell, he hadn't fired her, and she was hardly the patrons' favorite waitress.
Sighing gruffly, tired by so much contemplation, Hiyori placed the booze before him with a thump.
She stared at him, at his stupid, stupid tattoo, willing him to accept the challenge that she was determined to win. The challenge she had just created. Obviously, the new guy - Shuuhei Hisagi, whatever-his-name, He of the Copycat Kinky Ink; it didn't matter - wasn't going to be so easy to shake, so Hiyori was going to try and meet him head on.
"Let's see what you can do," she said.
Characters: Shuuhei Hisagi (calm_isolation ), Hiyori Sarugaki (shinebunny )
Timeline: April 21, 1950
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Shuuhei and Hiyori meet at his first day of work. Hiyori is not pleased - on two counts.
She was twitching, tapping her foot, anxious and irate. Today was not the best of morning to tell your waitress that she brought you a pop when you’d asked for an unsweetened iced tea.
“But, miss, I’m…” The poor, fat older man - obviously the type who avoided confrontation, and therefore the type that Hiyori was even more inclined to be irate with - was wringing his hands and trying to find the best way to phrase this - “I’m diabetic, miss. I really, really can’t drink this.”
She didn’t have to say a word: her lips pulled back into a feral snarl. More than enough for him. With a jerk his gaze left her and he stared down, wide-eyed, into his pop.
She snorted and roughly wiped her hands on her skirt. Today - oh, no, don’t even try to mess with her today.
Today was the day the new sap started work.
With a glare that could make a Rottweiler turn tail, Hiyori’s gaze went to the door. Standing in the doorway was The New Worker. He didn’t look like a complete sap, shy and stupid, but he looked out of place. Otherwise, he looked perfectly confident. Dark hair. Tallish. Muscular. Some kind of tattoos on his face. Must’ve thought he was a real hotshot.
Hiyori’s eyes flicked around the room. Kisuke was probably off doing something else - she growled under her breath. That meant it fell upon her to show this new number the ropes.
She trudged over to him. “Hey, you. New guy.”
It was his first official day on the job, and after making one quick scan of the room, he found the owner to be strangely missing. Shuuhei was checking his watch to make sure he wasn’t too early when he felt eyes on him.
Grey orbs looked up to meet the gaze of one angry looking blonde, who was glaring as she stomped toward him. ‘Hey, you. New Guy’. Well, that left little to question. Whatever she was mad about was now his problem.
Shuuhei had a few tricks up his sleeve, especially when it came to the ladies. He knew women seemed to respond to him, even though he was scarred and tattooed. If this tiny blonde was going to be his new co-worker, or--god forbid--his trainer, he wanted to start off on a good note. Despite her attitude, the lanky brunet offered a warm smile and held out one long-fingered hand, his voice pitched low and intimate. “Actually it is Shuuhei… Shuuhei Hisagi… Pleased to meet you, Miss?”
She deliberately crossed her arms, not allowing her eyes to leave his for a second. "Yeah, yeah. Shuuhei Hisagi, huh? What a weird name." Her eyes flicked over his face briefly, and her lips edged down from a straight, angry line to a frown.
69? Well, that was familiar. What was this sap doing walking around with Kensei's number? On his fuckin face? Who got tatoos on their face?
"What's with the tatoos? You got a fetish or somethin'?"
One brow arched in mild surprise before Shuuhei let his hands dropped back to his sides. Obviously charm or even general edict were unknown things to this hellcat. Not only had she not told him her name, she had insulted his own. It was in the brunet’s best interest, he decided, to finish this exchange was quickly as possible.
“My tattoo is a personal reminder, not a fetish. Perhaps you can help me though…Miss? I am looking for Mr. Urahara?” With that, gray eyes left the woman before him to scan the room over her head, a sliver of panic sliding through him. He really didn’t want the creature before him to be the one to show him the ropes.
She continued to stare with a cold eye. "Personal reminder? You make it sound like it's something other than a kinky tattoo. An' that's what it is." Her eyes left him and she looked around the room, a bit more quickly and agitated this time. "Kisuke's doin' somethin' else. Dammit. Dunno what that sap is up to, he should be here to show you 'round. " She wasn't usually so talkative, but she was annoyed, and when Hiyori was annoyed she could go on all day with insults. Instead of glaring around the room, she turned her eyes back to the new, tattooed employee.
"I'm kinda surprised he hired someone as rough-lookin' as you. You'll scare away the customers, for sure." She said it with a certain degree of smugness.
It took a lot to ruffle Shuuhei’s feathers, but obviously his new co-worker was a quick study. As much as he wanted to be on good terms with everyone here, knowing anyone could be a possible source of information, the brunet can’t help but poke back of her.
“Maybe Kisuke hired me because I look this way? You don’t look to threatening, probably wanted someone who looked rough to keep things in order…and who would get this tattoo just for the kink?” He couldn’t help tacking on the last question, he had honestly not thought of the other implications of his tattoo when he got it, but people always assumed he was a pervert now, it was a sore subject.
She wished Kisuke would show up and take care of him. He had insulted her and Hiyori was not one to let that lie. He would wish that Kisuke had gotten to him first, by the time she was done with him. Her tone took a dark turn for the worst, from unaffected to pissed.
"What did you just say?"
Finally a reaction. It was only fair that if she was going to pick at him he be able to pick at her, or was she like most girls, can dish it all night but can’t take a little spoonful herself. Shuuhei decided to play her card again and scowl looking around the room, not at her when he answered.
“I said who would get this tattoo just for the kink?”
Oh, damn, this idiot thought he was good. She gritted out a grin. Thought she was ugly, huh? He wasn't exactly a pretty boy himself. Maybe he was some girls' type, but to Hiyori's sexless view he was all muscle and ink and shifty eyes.
Now she just hated him and his muscle and kinky ink and shifty eyes all the more.
"Come on and I'll show you 'round."
The teeth cracking grin Blondie shared with him was pretty scary, and Shuuhei took back what he said about her. Cute as she was, all short, blonde, and young, she could still definitely be scary if she wanted too.
He nodded and focused all his attention back on her when she offered to show him around. Now they were getting somewhere.
“Right behind you.”
She ambled over to the bar, purposefully taking her time. Her mind was savoring the possibilities, lingering on the sweeter ones. It helped to soothe her anger.
Maybe she should tell him it was all an accident and that he should go home, because Kisuke didn't really want him. Yeah. It'd been dark, and Kisuke hadn't seen how ugly his face was - that'd be a good one, but he'd probably not believe it. Maybe she should just tell him to fuck off. Maybe she should tell him right off the bat that she was the one who called the shots around here. That wasn't entirely true, but it would be true enough, when Kisuke wasn't around. But, aw, he'd find that out soon enough - and it'd be more fun that way, too.
So instead she leaned back against the bar counter, an awkward position given her height. She smiled at him again to make up for any humor in her position. "What's your job, anyway? Your not gonna be needin' the bar much if your waiting tables. If you're bartendin', you'll need to know the ends and outs."
Hiyori was a hostess and waitress, but she'd had to bartend a couple of times when things in the joint had gotten real rowdy. She could probably show him the ups and downs well enough if that were the case.
Shuuhei followed her, keeping his pace even with her slow gliding walk. She acted like she owned this place, leaning back against the counter. It was apparent by the way she talked and acted that she probably ran things even if she didn’t own them, as long as she left him alone behind the bar they should get along fine, hopefully.
“Mr. Urahara hired me to tend the bar.” A small jerk of his chin to the domain behind her restated his point. He offered a small smile, trying to appease her ruffled feathers, and perhaps improve on future work conditions. “Would you mind showing me the ends and outs?”
She pressed her lips together and gave him a suspicious look. Was he trying to be friendly? Did it matter? Hell it didn’t - Hiyori was determined not to like him. She shrugged sharply and took a place behind the bar.
A bartender, then. No wonder he was such a schmooze. Bartenders could have the biggest heads, ‘specially Kisuke, when he worked the bar now and then. Hiyori didn’t come by much in tips on her nights working bar. Mostly because its little ins and outs puzzled and frustrated her, ending in an unpleasant experience for both Hiyori and the customer.
But now she projected an image of utter control and confidence.
“It’s all about charm,” she said pointedly, “It’s all about charmin’ the people so they want to come back, right? I don’t know if you’ve ever tended bar before, but that’s the heart of it. People don’t care how sloppy their drink is made if the person who makes it’s a real peach.” She snorted her annoyance at this, the golden rule of bartending. “Then again, ya need t’know all the mixes. That’s just practice.”
Shuuhei fought hard to keep the smile from ruining the small truce they seemed to have called. If bartending was about charm, and really it was, then the little blonde in front of him was the last person who should be showing him the ropes. The smile almost pushed through but at the last second Shuuhei was able to force it down and nod at her advice, following her behind the bar, to look at the lay of the land.
“So is there a policy on how heavy handed I should be with the booze?” He turns to the side facing Hiyori full on, his scarred face reflected in the mirror behind the bar. “This is a gambling establishment, so should I be more generous to encourage higher bets or should I hold it in a little?”
She turned and looked him in the eye. The act required her head to tilt at a dramatic angle. For a moment, she felt the pleasant, admiring pang of envy over all those scars. Tough. She'd have to admit that scars were a lot better than freckles, although if she had her way, secretly, she would take neither. She huffed.
"Kisuke's not above a little of that kinda thing. So yeah, do what you want." She made a mental note of this: condemnation number one: he's not honest. "You ever tended bar before?" Kisuke tended to hire people without any credentials (with herself as a living example), sometimes, she suspected, out of pure curiosity, love of fun, and sheer stupidity, but the bird could be a seasoned bartender for all that she knew.
Shuuhei nodded at the 'permission' to over pour the booze if need be, and looked around his eyes flowing over the bottled lined up next to him, recognizing most of the names though some were new to him.
A faint shrug and his eyes lighted back on the blond looking up a him. Now that she wasn't being so mean he realized she was kinda cute, if you liked short blond's with spunk, which wasn't exactly his cup of tea, but still.
"No" he finally answered her question worried that the attitude would come back with his lack of experience, but knowing she could probably catch his lie if he said he was an old hat at this. "Never tended bar before, but i have frequented a lot of them, that count for anything?"
She cocked her head at him. "You look charming," she said flatly, like it was a bad thing. It was. "You'll probably do fine. Like I said. That's the main trick." She turned back to the drink she was mixing, reaching over for the alcohol she wanted.
"Besides, the Lounge isn't a drink joint. It's more a fancy club place. Yeah, people drink, but they don't come here for the best damn whiskey they've ever had. It's for the entertainment. The flair." She snorted and mumbled under her breath, "Kisuke loves his fuckin' flair." She mixed the drink a little too viciously. He was going to do great. The people were going to love. That's what got her so wound up. Kisuke would not fire him if he excelled at his job - hell, he hadn't fired her, and she was hardly the patrons' favorite waitress.
Sighing gruffly, tired by so much contemplation, Hiyori placed the booze before him with a thump.
She stared at him, at his stupid, stupid tattoo, willing him to accept the challenge that she was determined to win. The challenge she had just created. Obviously, the new guy - Shuuhei Hisagi, whatever-his-name, He of the Copycat Kinky Ink; it didn't matter - wasn't going to be so easy to shake, so Hiyori was going to try and meet him head on.
"Let's see what you can do," she said.