Tailor made (iso Anastasiya)

[oliver]

Pudding Lane carried on as it always had, carried by time on the heels of passing people that streamed from almost every part of the town. But should one manage to take pause by the tea shop, they would notice a sort of presence beckoning from what would seem to be nothing more than another alley.

And if they felt like being brave?

Down a cobbled street lit by nothing but what little could escape through the mercy of taller structures, and just a turn to the left, one would find the narrow pathway that led straight to the door of 'Galworthy & Son Tailors'. The fresh gold lettering glinting in welcome across polished glass, the deep burgundy drape hiding what lay behind...
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"Every time it rains it rains
Pennies from heaven.
Don't you know each cloud contains
Pennies from heaven.
You'll find your fortune falling
All over town.
Be sure that your umbrella is upside down. "

The gentle lull of Billie Holiday's voice wafted through the air like perfume, trumpets and clarinets keeping to the tempo of a snare. And while it rained outside ,the shop remained dry and warm, inviting with its warm coloured walls and plush velvet furniture. It looked more like a fancy tearoom with the chandelier hanging from above, settee and table placed against the wall.

At the moment the tailor was busy checking over his latest project, completed and currently being perfected. Nothing less would do.
Each stitch, each fold, so carefully calculated and he drew back with a sated sigh, pulling his glasses off and tucking them into the collar of his own shirt. The measuring tape hangs over his neck ,pin cushion strapped to his wrist and scissors sticking out from his pocket...
Yes, he most certainly looked the part.

"Trade them for a package of sunshine and flowers.
If you want the things you love
You must have showers.
So when you hear it thunder
Don't run under a tree.
There'll be pennies from heaven for you and me..."

The gramophone ,like the chandelier was a piece of a long, long past, and one of the few things he'd kept with him during all this time. Oliver sometimes gave away certain gifts he'd been given in the years he'd been living (or not living), but never sold. Sentiments meant a lot to someone who could only sit and stare as everything else around him died.

"There. That should do it."
He murmured and stood back to look at his suited mannequin, a glint of pride in his eye... Hopefully his client would be just as pleased.

[jourdainka]

Anastasiya made her way down the slightly damp streets of London, on her way to Pudding Lane. She smiled at the fine mist of rain cooling her bare arms.
She had just finished a performance in a production of Mozart's Die Zauberflote. It had been years since she had sung The Queen of the Night aria, but it had made her happy. If she could blush with pride, she would have. Lately she had been allowing herself to feel things, and it felt good. She loved the breeze against her skin, playing with the thin white cotton of the pinafore she was wearing. She was bursting with. . .well not life, exactly, but something akin to it. She sang a few verses of La Vie en Rose, recalling when she had seen Edith Piaf's performance in Paris many years ago.

"This must be it. . ." Anya thought as she stopped in front of the shop titled Galworthy & Son Tailors. It was clearly Old World, a piece of history wedged solemnly between the careless lines of today's architecture. Not knowing whether she should knock, Anastasiya carefully pushed open the door.
"Dobriy vecher, I have come to see the suit I requested, and also. . .to ask you how you have been?"
She phrased that last statement as a question, because in truth she did not know what was customary between friends. Nonetheless, she smiled.

[oliver]

There were footsteps, light and almost keeping in time to the music coming towards the shop, with no heartbeat...
Oliver was smiling even before the door opened.

"Dobriy vecher, I have come to see the suit I requested, and also. . .to ask you how you have been?"

She was just as bright and sprite-ly as the last time he saw her in the park, although the shop's warm interiors gave her a golden hue rather than silvered flax.
"Ah Miss Anastasiya! Dobro pozhalovat', please do come in," he tugs off his glasses and walks over to her with his arms held wide in welcome, "Fortune surely does favor me this night to humble me with your presence."
A low bow and gentle kiss of a lifted hand before he makes a sweeping gesture towards the shop, "Allow me to show you your finished product."

Across the lush carpet he leads her towards the single mannequin that stands proudly before a three way mirror, only then does he release her hand to bring the suited torso under the light of the chandelier.
"I must confess my dear lady, this has surely been a joy and pleasure to work on..." he chuckles softly and runs a hand down a sleeve fondly, " I hope it's to your liking."

At a first glance the suit looks dark, but under light it becomes a shade of warm charcoal with thin white pin-stripes running down in vertical cascades, each one following in a perfect unending line from the shoulders to the edge of the pants. There was a sheen of luminosity to the suit that gave it a slightly metallic appearance without being too gaudy or flashy, with stark white buttons to add some contrast to the overall palate. Should she touch it, it would be soft, smooth and almost velvety in texture, but firm and unyielding when pressed. No creases to be found anywhere.
And underneath the jacket top, there is a crisp white shirt and jet black tie of satin.

"I know you didn't request for a shirt or tie, but I just couldn't help myself," he says with a helpless sigh, "After all, to match the suit one must find the perfect shirt and this was created for this particular set..."

Shifting the mannequin to the side he briskly undresses it and carefully drapes each piece of clothing on a hanger, making sure that he doesn't crush it with careless handling.
"If M'lady would like to try them on, the dressing rooms are just behind the mirrors to your left, then we may begin the first fitting."

[jourdainka]

As soon as she saw Oliver's warm smile, Anastasiya felt instantly at home. She sashayed gracefully over to him and smiled as she received his gentlemanly kiss on her hand.

When he showed her the suit that he had made for her, she felt something leap inside of her, very much like a heart would if she had one that worked. It was magnificent. Delicate, but strong, much like herself. She couldn't wait to try it on for her first fitting.
Taking it gently from Oliver's hands, she cradled it and followed his directions to a dressing room.

Inside, Anastasiya wondered if this was how mortals felt when they went shopping. She giggled at the ridiculousness of her own train of thought. Letting her dress fall to the floor, Anya carefully put on the shirt and trousers. Tucking the shirt in, she noticed that though there was only a miniscule amount of fitting that needed to be done. Otherwise, they fit her like a glove. Hmm. . .leather gloves would be nice, she thought to herself.
She then put on the jacket, but left the tie undone around her shoulders, and stepped out of the dressing room.

"Ya Sozhaleyu. . ." she grinned sheepishly, "I do not know how to tie this. . .it would seem I am in need of some assistance."
As she caught a glimpse of her reflection in one of the many mirrors, she straightened her posture, squared her shoulders. She could already feel herself acquiring the personality of the young man she would be pretending to be.

[oliver]

"No worries my dear, allow me."

The tie is taken, and looped around her neck beneath the collar of the shirt, tied into a perfect windsor knot. Straightening it slightly he smiles and nods in satisfaction, "Lovely, now later on you will be needing to do this on your own. I highly doubt you will be coming to me every time you need to wear your tie. But for now, let's have a look shall we?..."

So saying he steps to the side, looking at her from the reflection of the three mirrors, closely inspecting details from where other eyes would see her.
"I've used a hybrid form of angora wool, it is durable, has a higher thread count and allows for a lot of flexibility without getting wrinkled." as he speaks, Oliver moves behind her and rests his hands lightly on her shoulders, "I've had to add just a little bit more to your shoulder area, a bit of padding to help along with keeping the charade of a more masculine figure. Unlike the follies of the past I don't believe in having shoulder pads so high that they block out the noise of the outside world."

Pale fingers brush over to where the shoulder met the sleeve, tracing the barely visible line, "Now I don't usually like using synthetic materials, after all if our ancestors never needed them then why should we hmn? But for this, I have a made a slight exception. What holds your suit together is a type of man-made thread, but it is stronger and holds a high amount of elasticity should there be an occasion where you have to dash off."

Dark eyes meet hers in the glass, saying what his words hadn't; He understood that this suit wasn't just for pleasure's sake and he had taken her dangerous lifestyle into account. Both in hunting and retreating.

"I've made sure that the cut of your suit wasn't too small or too large, You have a lovely willowy frame and I'd hate for it to go completely to waste just because you are playing the part of a man. But at least with these straight lines, no one can tell that there is a lady beneath."
His hands smooth down the same path his words took him, showing her how the suit would both enhance her natural grace while concealing her identity at the same time.
"Your shirt may need a bit of altering, I must admit that I wasn't too sure if it should have too much give to it, but nothing that cant be fixed."

Such was the result of an Oliver-made garment.
Where he took pride in his work and could honestly be satisfied with the amount of thought he put into each creation. Nothing was there just for decoration or 'pizzaz', every bit of fabric and fold had a reason. Everything ,served a practical purpose while being tasteful.

"There's just one more thing to make this complete, I... Ah yes." he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box, "For your consideration M'lady."
The lid is removed to reveal a pair of simple ruby studded cufflinks.

"One must never forget to accessorise, even as a man."

[jourdainka]

"One must accessorize, even as a man. . ."

These words from the spritely tailor caused Anastasiya to pull a face. She quickly sought to explain her expression, wringing her graceful hands.

"You see, Mister Oliver, I do not accessorize much as a woman, and I am certain to be hopeless at it as a man."

Anya was already planning her mannerisms. She planned to begin her act that very night. One question in her mind was whether to cut her hair. She was secretly proud of her flaxen locks though she would never admit more than indifference. It all made her head hurt, which made her think of her old Master, which made her head hurt more.

"Ah, my Anastasiya, you are small like a little lad. How can I keep you as lady of my court?"
Anya bit her lip and avoided her Master's tawny gaze. Her throat had the lump of tears that came with thoe little jesting insults he hurled at her. All she wanted was his affection, his pride in her, for him to realize her as a woman.
"Yes, my Lord. It was wrong of me to ask."

This memory was just before she had been changed. It was one of Anya's last human memories. It made her uncomfortable. She was sure the discomfert was evident on her face, so she quickly spoke again.
"Could you, perhaps, assist me with this task, Mister Oliver?"