[Log] Alturo, Noitora
Title: Oil & Water Don't Mix (on Pizza)
Characters: Alturo (luminamon), Noitora (supahukevaizard)
Timeline: July 11, 2006
Rating: PG
Summary: Noitora applies for a job; Alturo hates that the job entails working at Plateado Pizzeria
It was summer, and Noitora had just received possibly one of the worst pieces of news in his life. His parents were cutting his allowance. He was, supposedly, an adult now and they were expecting him to get a job and sort out his life. No more drunken nights! No more chain smoking! Oh, woe-unless he actually did find a job. It was a terrifying thought but, as Noitora kicked an unfortunate pebble hard with one leather-booted foot, he supposed it could be worse. Serving pizza wouldn’t be so bad, right? Besides, he heard the people who owned this place were ex-Espada, so this would be a shoe-in.
Plateado Pizzeria. ‘Sounds nice.’ The tall Espada mused as he pushed open the front door, hands pushed into his pockets as he tried to think just where he’d heard that name before. He noticed someone at the counter, the visor of their (rather silly) hat shielding their face.
“Hey there, are there any jobs available?”
The guy looked up. Oh god. Oh god no. This wasn’t happening. Noitora felt his stomach clench as he looked into the pale eyes of Alturo Plateado, a smirk on his face widening. So that’s where he’d heard the name…
Noitora had been right to note that the owners were ex-Espada -- the proud sort who had graduated before they could be trimmed from the ranks -- but the son was an ex-Espada of the sort that hated the club, an irony in itself. One which was compounded when an Espada proper came by and put a blemish on an otherwise serviceable summer shift.
'No' would have been a wonderful answer to provide, one which would have sent Noitora packing and made his shift better. Not to mention a countless list of subsequent shifts that would be peaceful without an Espada working their. But 'no' was the incorrect answer, as Plateado Pizzeria was hiring to cover lost workers as school drew closer to resuming and post secondary students went back to their other cities and dorms.
'No' would also have gotten him very much in trouble with his parents for turning away an Espada.
One that, in particular, was Noitora. All the right traits for Privaron, but with all the wrong traits that made him Espada, the teen was sleaze personified. "There might be," he replied evenly, holding out his hand. "Résumé?"
Noitora watched the Privaron's eyes as he seemed to go through many mental processes. When he replied, his tone so flat it was almost reminiscent of Ulquiorra, Noitora realised his game. He couldn't turn him down but, due to, ah, disagreements in their personalities he was going to play it neutral. Fine.
"I need a résumé to work at a pizza place?" he asked, sneering slightly as he leaned forward with both elbows on the counter, surely invading Alturo's personal space. He lowered his voice in case Alturo’s parents would hear, leaning forward even more so their faces were inches apart.
"If a drop-out Privaron like you gets to work here, then surely that means I'm overly qualified?" another smirk, one even more shit-eating than the last, finished off the statement as Noitora's one eye stared fixedly into Alturo's.
Alturo had little words to counter the insult. Nails dug into his palms as his fingers clenched tightly into a fist when the precedence of work held him back from the initial reaction. Violence was not the answer, no matter how tempting and clear of a shot that Noitora tempted him with by leaning in close.
The best way to rid the temptation would be to step back, but Noitora would want that, he would take that as a win that Alturo was not willing to relinquish.
"If a head-in-his-ass Espada like you wants to work here, he better be prepared to do actual work," he replied, terse and with an expression forced, with effort, to be stone.
Noitora's grin widened and his one visible eye narrowed as he stood up to his full height, thin arms folded over his chest.
"I worked a lot harder than you to get where I am now. What makes you think this will be any different, pet?"
He rested both hands on the edge of the counter, seeming to arch and stretch his back as if he were just at home. He sighed and turned his gaze away from Alturo, almost seeming embarrassed at what he was about to say. "But seriously. Flirting with you is fun an' everything, but I need a job. This place is the only choice I have."
Alturo stared, there was no dignified way to describe it. The depraved Espada thought they were flirting? He almost laughed, and might have had his breathing stopped in this incredulous detail, a hesitation compounded by the name he had been referred to with.
People did not ask for jobs with this kind of behaviour, not in the real world, but here was Noitora, sleazy grin plastered on his face, thinking that this would 'woo' the fair pizza boy and win him a place in the employee ranks.
...and it only worked when Alturo caught the few words that bordered on reality.
Tempted though remained to throw the Espada out, Alturo sighed and scowled, going against his better judgment as he reached for one of the plain forms that prospective employees were expected to fill out.
"This will be different because you've never worked for a Privaron before," he warned Noitora, tossing the sheet onto the counter and a pen to fill it out with. And though Noitora had the height advantage, Alturo straightened to his full one, expression cold as ever, save for the slightest suggestion of a sadistic pleasure in playing supervisor to one of the proud elite. "Think twice, because I will make your life here hell."
"Nah, I'm sure you couldn't do anything that terrible to me, eh?"
Noitora slid the form across the table with one slim hand, twirling the pen expertly between his fingers before he started filling out the necessary, boring, information. All basic stuff that he couldn't understand a pizza place having the need for. Oh well.
He leaned forward on the desk and tapped his knuckles on the polished surface as he scribbled in his untidy scrawl, shoving the pen and paper back when he was done.
Unfortunately for Alturo, he'd noticed the change in expression at the name 'pet' and his amusing reaction to the key word of 'flirting'. He paused and beckoned Alturo forward with one finger, torso pushed right over the counter.
"I think we're going to enjoy working together, my little Privaron~."
There would be an art to proving Noitora wrong. Much as Alturo could have thought to be kind, he had that undeniably sadistic preference to prove others wrong. First by making the Espada when he seemed so poor a contender, then taking Privaron as his new home and school family, finding pride where circumstance otherwise stripped it. And now, Noitora tempted that cruel resolve with his response, that lack of fear for what could be done.
Off the top of his head, Alturo could list seventeen tasks that could make the other groan and dislike this job choice. The options only grew the longer he thought about what harsh tasks could be levied upon those sleazy shoulders.
...when said shoulders were not looming close to him.
Alturo leaned away from Noitora stiffly, eyes narrowed as he picked up and reviewed the information on the sheet. "No, we will not enjoy it," he replied, glancing at Noitora with no effort to hide his disdain. "If you get a call-back, you will begin to hate working here, but if you want to be masochistic, I will see that the manager gets this form."
"Ah, how sweet of you." Noitora casually ignored the other teens angry looks of contempt and simply continued to smile and loom menacingly, things he were growing consistently good at. He watched as a waitress went past with a tray of food and reached out with the expert reflexes of a top fencer to snatch a piece of pizza off the plate, slipping it between his lips with a look that just oozed smugness.
Tossing a few bills onto the counter (he wasn't so ill raised as to steal, oh no), and with one final smile at the aqua-haired boy, Noitora turned to leave.
"Keep the change, pet, it can pay for some fencing lessons."
Alturo swore under his breath and pushed the sheet aside, moving to put the cash into the till and damn the change to some hell that he hoped the Espada might follow to.
Fencing lessons? Like hell he wanted anything that would bring him back to the Espada.
Alturo clenched the bills in his fist convulsively as Noitora left, his hatred for Espada deepening and his dislike for this particular member finding a vividly bitter root. He glanced at the sheet; the name he knew from his time in the club, one he had known to avoid.
...one that he would have to be working with.
Damn fate.
Characters: Alturo (luminamon), Noitora (supahukevaizard)
Timeline: July 11, 2006
Rating: PG
Summary: Noitora applies for a job; Alturo hates that the job entails working at Plateado Pizzeria
It was summer, and Noitora had just received possibly one of the worst pieces of news in his life. His parents were cutting his allowance. He was, supposedly, an adult now and they were expecting him to get a job and sort out his life. No more drunken nights! No more chain smoking! Oh, woe-unless he actually did find a job. It was a terrifying thought but, as Noitora kicked an unfortunate pebble hard with one leather-booted foot, he supposed it could be worse. Serving pizza wouldn’t be so bad, right? Besides, he heard the people who owned this place were ex-Espada, so this would be a shoe-in.
Plateado Pizzeria. ‘Sounds nice.’ The tall Espada mused as he pushed open the front door, hands pushed into his pockets as he tried to think just where he’d heard that name before. He noticed someone at the counter, the visor of their (rather silly) hat shielding their face.
“Hey there, are there any jobs available?”
The guy looked up. Oh god. Oh god no. This wasn’t happening. Noitora felt his stomach clench as he looked into the pale eyes of Alturo Plateado, a smirk on his face widening. So that’s where he’d heard the name…
Noitora had been right to note that the owners were ex-Espada -- the proud sort who had graduated before they could be trimmed from the ranks -- but the son was an ex-Espada of the sort that hated the club, an irony in itself. One which was compounded when an Espada proper came by and put a blemish on an otherwise serviceable summer shift.
'No' would have been a wonderful answer to provide, one which would have sent Noitora packing and made his shift better. Not to mention a countless list of subsequent shifts that would be peaceful without an Espada working their. But 'no' was the incorrect answer, as Plateado Pizzeria was hiring to cover lost workers as school drew closer to resuming and post secondary students went back to their other cities and dorms.
'No' would also have gotten him very much in trouble with his parents for turning away an Espada.
One that, in particular, was Noitora. All the right traits for Privaron, but with all the wrong traits that made him Espada, the teen was sleaze personified. "There might be," he replied evenly, holding out his hand. "Résumé?"
Noitora watched the Privaron's eyes as he seemed to go through many mental processes. When he replied, his tone so flat it was almost reminiscent of Ulquiorra, Noitora realised his game. He couldn't turn him down but, due to, ah, disagreements in their personalities he was going to play it neutral. Fine.
"I need a résumé to work at a pizza place?" he asked, sneering slightly as he leaned forward with both elbows on the counter, surely invading Alturo's personal space. He lowered his voice in case Alturo’s parents would hear, leaning forward even more so their faces were inches apart.
"If a drop-out Privaron like you gets to work here, then surely that means I'm overly qualified?" another smirk, one even more shit-eating than the last, finished off the statement as Noitora's one eye stared fixedly into Alturo's.
Alturo had little words to counter the insult. Nails dug into his palms as his fingers clenched tightly into a fist when the precedence of work held him back from the initial reaction. Violence was not the answer, no matter how tempting and clear of a shot that Noitora tempted him with by leaning in close.
The best way to rid the temptation would be to step back, but Noitora would want that, he would take that as a win that Alturo was not willing to relinquish.
"If a head-in-his-ass Espada like you wants to work here, he better be prepared to do actual work," he replied, terse and with an expression forced, with effort, to be stone.
Noitora's grin widened and his one visible eye narrowed as he stood up to his full height, thin arms folded over his chest.
"I worked a lot harder than you to get where I am now. What makes you think this will be any different, pet?"
He rested both hands on the edge of the counter, seeming to arch and stretch his back as if he were just at home. He sighed and turned his gaze away from Alturo, almost seeming embarrassed at what he was about to say. "But seriously. Flirting with you is fun an' everything, but I need a job. This place is the only choice I have."
Alturo stared, there was no dignified way to describe it. The depraved Espada thought they were flirting? He almost laughed, and might have had his breathing stopped in this incredulous detail, a hesitation compounded by the name he had been referred to with.
People did not ask for jobs with this kind of behaviour, not in the real world, but here was Noitora, sleazy grin plastered on his face, thinking that this would 'woo' the fair pizza boy and win him a place in the employee ranks.
...and it only worked when Alturo caught the few words that bordered on reality.
Tempted though remained to throw the Espada out, Alturo sighed and scowled, going against his better judgment as he reached for one of the plain forms that prospective employees were expected to fill out.
"This will be different because you've never worked for a Privaron before," he warned Noitora, tossing the sheet onto the counter and a pen to fill it out with. And though Noitora had the height advantage, Alturo straightened to his full one, expression cold as ever, save for the slightest suggestion of a sadistic pleasure in playing supervisor to one of the proud elite. "Think twice, because I will make your life here hell."
"Nah, I'm sure you couldn't do anything that terrible to me, eh?"
Noitora slid the form across the table with one slim hand, twirling the pen expertly between his fingers before he started filling out the necessary, boring, information. All basic stuff that he couldn't understand a pizza place having the need for. Oh well.
He leaned forward on the desk and tapped his knuckles on the polished surface as he scribbled in his untidy scrawl, shoving the pen and paper back when he was done.
Unfortunately for Alturo, he'd noticed the change in expression at the name 'pet' and his amusing reaction to the key word of 'flirting'. He paused and beckoned Alturo forward with one finger, torso pushed right over the counter.
"I think we're going to enjoy working together, my little Privaron~."
There would be an art to proving Noitora wrong. Much as Alturo could have thought to be kind, he had that undeniably sadistic preference to prove others wrong. First by making the Espada when he seemed so poor a contender, then taking Privaron as his new home and school family, finding pride where circumstance otherwise stripped it. And now, Noitora tempted that cruel resolve with his response, that lack of fear for what could be done.
Off the top of his head, Alturo could list seventeen tasks that could make the other groan and dislike this job choice. The options only grew the longer he thought about what harsh tasks could be levied upon those sleazy shoulders.
...when said shoulders were not looming close to him.
Alturo leaned away from Noitora stiffly, eyes narrowed as he picked up and reviewed the information on the sheet. "No, we will not enjoy it," he replied, glancing at Noitora with no effort to hide his disdain. "If you get a call-back, you will begin to hate working here, but if you want to be masochistic, I will see that the manager gets this form."
"Ah, how sweet of you." Noitora casually ignored the other teens angry looks of contempt and simply continued to smile and loom menacingly, things he were growing consistently good at. He watched as a waitress went past with a tray of food and reached out with the expert reflexes of a top fencer to snatch a piece of pizza off the plate, slipping it between his lips with a look that just oozed smugness.
Tossing a few bills onto the counter (he wasn't so ill raised as to steal, oh no), and with one final smile at the aqua-haired boy, Noitora turned to leave.
"Keep the change, pet, it can pay for some fencing lessons."
Alturo swore under his breath and pushed the sheet aside, moving to put the cash into the till and damn the change to some hell that he hoped the Espada might follow to.
Fencing lessons? Like hell he wanted anything that would bring him back to the Espada.
Alturo clenched the bills in his fist convulsively as Noitora left, his hatred for Espada deepening and his dislike for this particular member finding a vividly bitter root. He glanced at the sheet; the name he knew from his time in the club, one he had known to avoid.
...one that he would have to be working with.
Damn fate.