When: Monday morning, January 11 Where: Main Street Who: Marcus Hamilton and OPEN What: The man needs to buy a suit NOW. Rating: W&H for Wolfram & Hart
With an arched eyebrow, Kurt looked the man up and down. Even leaving alone the fact that the man before him was wearing solely a T-shirt and cargo pants in winter, they were a T-shirt and cargo pants. Which, compared to Kurt's outfit, was simply... unacceptable.
And besides, this man clearly had better taste than his attire would suggest.
"Good lord, yes," he replied, knowing that Bod would be busy for at least a couple hours going over their well-planned Eliza-Doolittle-esque training. "And thank God you asked me rather than ninety percent of the rest of this town's residents. They're fashion-flawed, I tell you."
With a soft smile, Kurt extended a fingerless-gloved hand. "My name is Kurt Hummel. It's a pleasure meeting you."
Hamilton took the young man's hand in a firm, professional clasp, his smile still small and pleasant. "Kurt, the pleasure is mine. I'm Marcus Hamilton."
He let the boy take the lead, falling in beside him with the ease of a man who spent his life accommodating clients in ways so subtle most of them never noticed. As they walked, he pondered how to continue the conversation. Hamilton wasn't a man accustomed to admitting weakness. Heck, he wasn't accustomed to having weakness. He'd been powerful, untouchable, and utterly in control of his surroundings for centuries. He simply didn't have the vocabulary to say I have no idea how I got here, where 'here' is, whose clothes I'm wearing, or why I needed to shave"I seem to have inherited someone else's, ah. Let's just say 'wardrobe'." Another faint grimace accompanied the words. "And let's go on to say that his tastes and mine don't exactly coincide. I've never worn anything but a suit in my life." Though it sounded like typical overstatement, this was the literal truth. Even when he
( ... )
"From the looks of it, you should burn your new-found inheritance," Kurt quipped. He didn't mean to sound so prissy, but he was actually fairly stressed over this project he had with Bod, and his nerves were starting to get to him. Still, he supposed he shouldn't be taking it out on the unsuspecting, and honestly, not-too-shabby-looking man beside him. Something told Kurt that once he got a suit on, he'd look quite handsome.
"So, what brings you to Aternaville, Markus?" Kurt asked, trying to make some polite conversation as he led Markus to a boutique that would undoubtedly have something to his liking. It was a bit too commercial for Kurt's taste, but then again, Kurt usually only ever ordered exclusive catalog-only items... or designer originals.
Hamilton was unbothered by the snark. "I absolutely agree. And I plan to, as soon as I have something to replace it." He meant it. Jayne was going to have to do some shopping of his own when he returned, because there wasn't going to be anything left in his dresser. Or on his floor, since that was where most of his clothes lived.
What brought him to Aternaville? Marcus wished he knew. He was still reluctant to admit just how confused he was. But at least now he had a name for this town. And the name gave him more, because he knew about Aternaville. The Senior Partners knew about it, and therefore he did.
He felt an odd sense of relief as the boutique came into view and he saw the window displays. At least he would be back in uniform soon. Though he'd never purchased a suit before; it would be interesting to see how that went
( ... )
Comments 5
And besides, this man clearly had better taste than his attire would suggest.
"Good lord, yes," he replied, knowing that Bod would be busy for at least a couple hours going over their well-planned Eliza-Doolittle-esque training. "And thank God you asked me rather than ninety percent of the rest of this town's residents. They're fashion-flawed, I tell you."
With a soft smile, Kurt extended a fingerless-gloved hand. "My name is Kurt Hummel. It's a pleasure meeting you."
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He let the boy take the lead, falling in beside him with the ease of a man who spent his life accommodating clients in ways so subtle most of them never noticed. As they walked, he pondered how to continue the conversation. Hamilton wasn't a man accustomed to admitting weakness. Heck, he wasn't accustomed to having weakness. He'd been powerful, untouchable, and utterly in control of his surroundings for centuries. He simply didn't have the vocabulary to say I have no idea how I got here, where 'here' is, whose clothes I'm wearing, or why I needed to shave"I seem to have inherited someone else's, ah. Let's just say 'wardrobe'." Another faint grimace accompanied the words. "And let's go on to say that his tastes and mine don't exactly coincide. I've never worn anything but a suit in my life." Though it sounded like typical overstatement, this was the literal truth. Even when he ( ... )
Reply
"So, what brings you to Aternaville, Markus?" Kurt asked, trying to make some polite conversation as he led Markus to a boutique that would undoubtedly have something to his liking. It was a bit too commercial for Kurt's taste, but then again, Kurt usually only ever ordered exclusive catalog-only items... or designer originals.
Reply
What brought him to Aternaville? Marcus wished he knew. He was still reluctant to admit just how confused he was. But at least now he had a name for this town. And the name gave him more, because he knew about Aternaville. The Senior Partners knew about it, and therefore he did.
He felt an odd sense of relief as the boutique came into view and he saw the window displays. At least he would be back in uniform soon. Though he'd never purchased a suit before; it would be interesting to see how that went ( ... )
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