ph_logs | [Slightly Backdated] Merrymeet Outfit Planning

"Business, I think. This is Annabel Lee Whitlock at Whitlock Needleworks. Your new employee arrived to get his uniform fitted."

Annabel's raised eyebrow is an audible thing.

"Ah yes, Mister Jeff, the new maid. If your concern is that only one has been sent, well, suffice it to say that there are more coming provided he proves successful at this first task."

She'd stand at the gates to Heaven and say this with a straight face to God.

That clears several things up and raises several questions.

Annabel's going to Gordian Knot this bitch just a little bit. "Is your intention to humiliate him?"

"Not at all. Disconcert him a little, perhaps, but - ah. I think I may see." Deirdre's amusement softens into something more serious. "The charming young bookbinder, Mister Gerry, did you happen to attend his...recent lecture? It was quite fascinating, in part because for those of us who come from Marrow Island it was largely unnecessary. Mister Jeff is my maid, and as much as it pains me, I am not currently made of money, nor does it appear at the turn of my hand. A certain amount of frugal reuse is unavoidable."

Annabel turns a thoughtful look on Jeff.

"Thank you for the clarification. I think that's all I needed to know. I'll send you the bill once the uniform is fitted." There's a certain opacity in those words. Customer service voice to cover up her thoughts on the matter.

"I will await it warmly, Miss Whitlock. Good day, and good fortune during your busy ti -"

This pause is significantly less evil.

"- I will need to speak to him on the matter of the timing. My apologies for adding to your no doubt quite staggering workload."

"It will not be complete until after Merrymeet. That's simply not negotiable at this point." And she isn't any more apologetic about that than she has to be.

"There is absolutely no rush. My apologies for the mistiming, and my thanks for your understanding. If this concludes our business?"

"I believe it does. Good day."

Annabel hangs up the phone and then faces Jeff at the screen again. "Mister Jeff, her new maid."

"Ohhhh..." Jeff groans. It's not like Deirdre was hiding the maid thing at all. She told him that was the job. She kept using that word, and he just kept assuming she meant butler for some dumb fucking reason.

He didn't even check to see what the uniform looked like! Why didn't he check?!

"I'm such a fucking idiot," he mutters from behind the screen. Then he pokes his head out again. "Sorry, I didn't-- I should've--" He winces. "Anyway, um. Thanks. Uh, I'll, uh... I'll try this on now."

There's no way something this fitted is going to, well, fit, as is, even though his build is on the slighter side. He's still six feet tall, after all.

"Yes, do that. She's going to want you looking proper in her service."

And Annabel could use a moment to think.

Well, she'd gotten used to the town whore being ~~her metamour~~ a man, is the idea of a male maid really particularly different?

~~Yes, because...~~

There's something about roles and attitudes that's flittering about her mind, flirting with, but not directly connecting to her and River's own play. Mistress and man-maid. Lady and pet. Whore and client. None of these relationships would suit, as they are, in her world.

~~But she didn't like the way relationships in her world were shaped.~~

There's a couple minutes of struggle as he tries to get this maid's uniform on as best he can, given the definite size difference between him and the last person to wear the outfit.

His torso's too long, same as his arms, and his shoulders are a bit too broad, and Jeff's looking totally dubious when he steps out from behind the screen.

"This is so not my style, man."

Like, if he were to, you know, totally hypothetically wear a dress for fun and fashion, it wouldn't be this one!

Annabel lets out a laugh.

"It's not supposed to be your style. It's a uniform, for someone performing a particular job."

Okay, she makes a good point. Jeff looks down, his nose still wrinkled, because uniform or not, he feels totally silly in this outfit.

"Huh. I never had a job with a real uniform before." A beat. "Hey." He looks at Annabel, brows furrowed in curiosity. "Is there such thing as, you know... guy maids?"

Well. She looks fancy, like she might know this stuff way better than him.

"Not in the world I come from. But here, apparently, there are. And they wear this." She grabs a piece of tailor's chalk and begins marking where adjustments need to be maid.

"Also, we'll need to see to proper undergarments for this uniform. A slip, perhaps. Maybe a petticoat. Stockings..."

Undergarments... Stockings? Jeff looks down to consider his legs, which are definitely the hairiest part of his body besides his head. Will they show? Does it matter?

"Uhhh... Stockings? I mean, it's a pretty long... skirt, so..."

A beat.

"What's a petticoat? Is that, like, that poofy thing that makes skirts look big?"

Cough. “The petticoat is the undergarment that defines the shape and volume of the skirt, yet. And I’m certain your employer will insist on stockings. She seems to have very exacting standards.”

Among other things.

“I hope you know what you’re getting into, with this job posting, Mister Jeff.”

Fuuuuuck, she's right. Deirdre definitely is the exacting standards type. Which.... honestly is really kind of fucking hot, but maybe that's not a quality one's supposed to factor in choosing an employer--

--is a thought Jeff would have if he had any sense. But his train of thought pretty much stops at "she's exacting and that's hot."

"Yeah, um, I mean I know this job's probably gonna be hard-- I still don't really know why she wants me, of all people? I mean, I'm a fucking mess--" Score one point for self awareness! "--and I don't know the first thing about keeping a house, but--"

He shrugs and offers a hopeful smile.

"--but the pay and hours are supposed to be good, and she's gonna support my music, like, make sure I've got enough time to practice, maybe start performing again." He positively perks up thinking about it. "It's a fucking sweet deal!"

Edited 2024-02-26 09:47 (UTC)

Annabel nods quietly.

“You’re certainly going to learn a lot. And be seeing more of me, in time, so you’ll have to keep me updated when you come in to try the uniform on. And in general, alright?”

Not that Annabel really understands the scope of things either, but. She’s going to worry.

He nods and flashes a reassuring smile. "I'll let you know how it's going."

Then, after a few beats, "Sorry for, uh, asking you to call her. I think I might've fucked up."

Which is kind of impressive, even for Jeff, considering he hasn't technically started the job yet.

“Go change back into your clothes. And hold that apology. I don’t regret making the call, myself. The part you ‘fucked up’ on, which I’m sure she’ll give you hell for, is coming to me while I’m elbow-deep in Merrymeet preparations. I still haven’t finished mine and River’s dresses, and I’m on the Floral Court!”

She shoos him back toward the changing area.

"Shit, sorry! I totally forgot about Merrymeet!" Look, Jeff doesn't pay attention to... a whole lot, honestly. And when he does, he's pretty quick to forget.

But he's quick to bound back behind the screen, eager to get his regular street urchin clothes back on.

“Not as sorry as you will be, when the lady gets ahold of you.” Her voice is all tease now, mischievous while he can’t see her. There is a game here she is not part of, except…isn’t she, just a little? Enough to poke fun.

(It’s not wholly unlike her little games with River, huh…)

That gets a laugh from Jeff, from behind the screen. When he re-emerges, fully dressed, he looks considerably more at ease.

"You think I'm in for it?" he asks, trying to keep his tone light and teasing, though a little bit of eagerness may manage to slip through despite his best efforts at playing it cool.

"What do you imagine she might do to you?" Annabel's able to catch that eagerness, and willing to stoke it.

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cacophonish - 2024-03-09 20:03 (UTC) - Expand