[ visual ] lipstick and callous and fishnets and malice
The shot opens with that of Balthazar before a mirror, gaze artfully downcast as he fastens his tablet to the breast pocket of his suit. When he raises his eyes, the briefest flare of red may be visible over his irises, as if someone had taken his picture with the flash close to the lens. Or, of course, if you are of a certain supernaturally sensitive nature, perhaps you see an entirely different face than the smooth-skinned, even-featured one he shows to the mundane world perhaps you see rotting, gangrenous green flesh with dark pits for eyes and a gaping maw lined with sharp teeth. For a moment, maybe longer depending on the degree of your sensitivity, and willpower, perhaps you see the glisten of slime along mucous-laden folds of skin, experience the phantom synesthesia-scent of sulfur...
But then it's gone, and he's Blake Angler again, a calm, self-satisfied man with a mildly scurrilous tie (polka dots do not go with pinstripes, sir). He turns from the mirror and the view turns with him, taking in a slight, perky-looking female Extra with dark hair. Balthazar reaches out and brushes the hair away from her face, straightens her top, and adjusts her posture, not unlike one might a mannequin. She tolerates it all with a bland smile.
Carefully, he secures a ribbon around her neck. It is a navy one with white polka dots, just like his tie.
"... it shames me to say," Balthazar says, drawling slightly and in a manner which leaves one in doubt whether he is capable of feeling shame at all, "but fashion was a very important aspect of my former occupation. If you didn't look the part, you weren't going to make the deal. As it happens, I have a very good memory for successful outfits " OH REALLY. " and can, with the help of the hatches, recreate them."
Angled away from the first Extra, the tablet now shows several others in a variety of clothing, mostly dressy to formal styles. They stand perfectly still, identical ribbons on their necks and identical smiles on their faces.
"So there's supply, but is there demand?"
For what it's worth, he does seem to have a sharp eye for colour and cut, though individual mileage may vary. Every now and then, however, he seems unable to resist including a sort of strange dissonant element, something that could be carried off by the right person with the right attitude, but might otherwise be strikingly peculiar.
But then it's gone, and he's Blake Angler again, a calm, self-satisfied man with a mildly scurrilous tie (polka dots do not go with pinstripes, sir). He turns from the mirror and the view turns with him, taking in a slight, perky-looking female Extra with dark hair. Balthazar reaches out and brushes the hair away from her face, straightens her top, and adjusts her posture, not unlike one might a mannequin. She tolerates it all with a bland smile.
Carefully, he secures a ribbon around her neck. It is a navy one with white polka dots, just like his tie.
"... it shames me to say," Balthazar says, drawling slightly and in a manner which leaves one in doubt whether he is capable of feeling shame at all, "but fashion was a very important aspect of my former occupation. If you didn't look the part, you weren't going to make the deal. As it happens, I have a very good memory for successful outfits " OH REALLY. " and can, with the help of the hatches, recreate them."
Angled away from the first Extra, the tablet now shows several others in a variety of clothing, mostly dressy to formal styles. They stand perfectly still, identical ribbons on their necks and identical smiles on their faces.
"So there's supply, but is there demand?"
For what it's worth, he does seem to have a sharp eye for colour and cut, though individual mileage may vary. Every now and then, however, he seems unable to resist including a sort of strange dissonant element, something that could be carried off by the right person with the right attitude, but might otherwise be strikingly peculiar.