Guys can be pretty too? [Open]

Vash sat down in the chair. "We will make you pretty." He heard. He shifted in his chair. He didn't like the sound of that. He didn't want to be pretty. And gott this dress just. How could woman like those. He was sitting in beautiful purple long dress, with pink roses on it. It was designed by some dude, for hell he cared.

Why had they picked him?! Why?! There were so many people out there. Specially girls. They were jumping in excitement to wear this thing. He really didn't get why he always had to wear girls clotheing. He didn't smile. He just looked angrily in the mirror. The stylists tried to cheer him up.

They were treatening like a girl! He sighed. Just let this get over with quickly. When he was done he had to wait for a while till he was needed. He sat down in a chair, in a very unwomanly way. Because he was guy, ja! He just hoped no one would walk in right now.

Vash sat straight up when a guy came in. A blush covered his face. He didn't like to be seen like this. Damn dress. "They went to have a break, will be back soon." He answered as he looekd at the other man. Still not comfortable in his dress. He shifted a bit.

He wished they could just get him already. He didn't want to sit in this dress longer than necessarry. He sighed another time. Today sucked again. He never got really "manly" jobs, so to say.

Kiku didn't remember much of what had just happened. He just remembered that he woke up on his day off and was told that he didn't have the day off. He had sighed, gone to work, and been ruthlessly dressed and pampered. His hair was always, always neat, but for some reason they had to straighten it anyway, or something equally as stupid, and before he knew it he was shoved into some random stylist room without even a cup of tea to keep him company.

Oh. Well, there were two people in here. That ought to keep him company for now. There was a staff member of some sort that looked familiar, but Kiku was too tired to remember if it was someone he knew. Then there was someone else. They were dressed as a beautiful woman, but looks are deceiving, and the way the person presented his/herself, Kiku thought that they looked like they might be a man. The person seemed very, very embarrassed. "Konnichiwa..." he said awkwardly.

Vash shifted in the chair. He nodded at the man. "Vash Zwingli." He replied as an introduction. He wasn't a man of words. He really lacked some social skills.
Then another boy came in. What is this?! Why had everyone just walk in when he was wearing a dress?! He nodded at the Japanese male. "H-hallo." He greeted. He hoped they would come to get him soon. He didn't like to be around people and especially not dressed as a woman. He had both seen them looking at him, questioning his gender. That didn't make him anymore comfortable.

As he thought, the person in the dress was indeed male. And again, as he thought, he did know the staff member. It was his old friend, Heracles Karpusi. The two of them were close enough to be on a first-name basis, back when Kiku first started. It was odd, back then, to refer to someone by their first name, but now he did it almost always, since people in America, he learned, were put off by someone referring to them by their last name. He had to adapt to his surroundings, and he did. Of course, he still added honorifics. But Heracles had been one of his first friends here. "Konnichiwa," he said, bowing at the stranger. He turned to Heracles and said, "Heracles-kun, it has been far too long. How have you been?"

Somehow, and Roderich would swear by the fact that it was not his fault, the Austrian designer had gotten lost in the halls of the Axis Modeling Agency. He went the same way to work every day. There was no reason for him to get lost. However, he managed to do so, and it was not the first time that it had happened. It turned out, once a pitying security guard found him that he had gotten off the elevator one floor above the one he wanted.

That is why the well-dressed Austrian arrived late to the styling room. Upon finally arriving, he adjusted his brown plaid jacket, a rough Donegal tweed placed over a nice gray button down top. His pants were Equestrian style, larger at the top and then slimming down to hug his lower leg. They too were gray, with a discrete pinstripe. The look was finished with a pair of his favourite boots. Anyone glancing at the Austrian could easily see he adored the clothing that fall brought, and was glad for the change of season.

Satisfied with his appearance, the Austrian opened the door. However, all satisfaction left him and annoyance immediately took its place. He had requested two models for the clothing, and while both were already dressed, it appeared that only one was completely ready for a shoot. The girl, or maybe boy, that was wearing his gorgeous purple dress had not a drop of makeup on. Then, to further annoy the Austrian, there was a photographer in the room, before he was ready for anyone to see the models.

“Vhad is going on in here?” complained Roderich in a thick accent. “Why are we not ready? I now fear dat we vill go to the modeling room and the set vill not be ready.”

((I-I will not overwhelm with any accents, since I would probably screw it up. I just wanted to reinforce it for this post, to make it apparent. It is actually stronger than what I wrote, but I did not want to hurt your eyes.))

Vash made a displeased noise. It wasn't his fault that the stylists ran off and that those two just went chatting around. He sighed and looked up at the man. He hadn't worked with him beofre. He looked pretty good, he could pass for a- wait- what?! Goodlooking?! A man?! What was he thinking aaargh?!

He tried to shrugg it off and hide his blush. "Stylists ran off to have a break." He told the man with a pretty angry look on his face. Though Vash always looked at people like that. He'd rarely spoke or smile.

Roderich's frown only grew when the model who sitting in the chair glared at him. This was not the first time the stylists had run off to take a break when there was work to do. Just the other day they had run off, leaving Roderich to do the makeup for a model. He was doubtful that his work had pleased Antonio.

“I hope they get fired,” grumbled the Austrian as he pushed his way into the room. He rested his gaze on the Asian man, checking his appearance. His outfit was much simpler, meant to compliment the elaborate purple gown. It suited him well, and thus, the aristocratic man lost interest quickly. He pretended to ignore the photographer and instead analyzed the blonde.

“Stop frowning. You are wearing wedding clothing. You are supposed to be happy.” Roderich gazed at Vash for a few long moments before turning around and sifting through the abandoned makeup. After a bit he appeared to find what he was looking for, and turned back to Vash with an assortment of different makeups.

“Since we are already running late, I suppose I shall have to do the makeup. Luckily, you already look delightful in this dress, so my less than great skills should be acceptable,” explained the Austrian. He was slowly calming down as he saw just how good the dress looked. His tone much less clipped and replaced with more carefully chosen and pronounced speech.

Kiku watched the tension in the room with a frown. He didn't like conflict, and the air was seething with it. He decided that the best thing to do would to ignore the crossdressing model and the irritable stylist and go back to his conversation with Heracles.

"We should indeed fix it," he said as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Perhaps after the shoot you and I could, um, 'hang out'? Th-that is what they are calling it, right?" He had never been very good with slang, even the slang in his home country, and he didn't want to mess it up. Also, he really missed Heracles.