I'll tell you something, I am a wolf but I like to wear sheep's clothing

[gin-and-smoke.livejournal.com]

*Rose isn't the kind of person to make a daily schedule, but if she were, hers today would've included things like 9:00: get film developed, 1:30: shoe shopping, 8:30: photograph nude Death Eater and worm self into his confidence. It was, currently, 8:25, and Rose was ready. 

The photo shoot with Mulciber was, she still felt, probably the stupidest thing she'd ever agreed to do, and yet here she was. She thought she owed Sirius a kick to the balls for this, but none the less she was making herself a gin and tonic, camera sitting on the counter, living room ready to go as a background. The lighting was already set up, it'd just need to be adjusted once he was here; all there was left to do was wait. And hope he didn't figure out her game and blast her head off.

She definitely owed Sirius a kick in the balls. Yeah.*

Comments

[gin-and-smoke.livejournal.com]

Surely what?

*There's something a little dangerous in the question, in that raised eyebrow. It's most definitely a trap, and suddenly she's not joking. Rose has never had to work a day in her life, but she's serious about her photography.*

[whysosadistic.livejournal.com]

*Mulciber notes her change in tone but refuses to be intimidated by her. If she wants him starkers, fine, fuck it. The last person he wants to display even a hint of apprehension towards is Rose fucking Anglesey. If it's a challenge she's looking for, it's a challenge he'll meet.

He smiles at her, far too saccharine and fake.*

Nothing. Forget it. Direct me then if you're such a great photographer.

[gin-and-smoke.livejournal.com]

*And this, Rose remembers, is why she always hated Mulciber. She's going to have to find another Death Eater to charm silly, or she's going to end up hitting Damien upside the head with something heavy. It's a matter of professional pride, though. She wants her photos out there, she wants them published and in galleries and she wants people to recognize them as hers. Shooting freelance for the Daily Prophet is shit; she wants more than that, and this arsehole's standing there in her flat, assuming her work's not going anywhere? Two can play at that.*

No, you're right. If I want critic's attention, nudes of you would get it, but not for good reasons. Best clothed, I agree. Stand by the window.

[whysosadistic.livejournal.com]

Not for good reasons? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I can do it starkers.

[gin-and-smoke.livejournal.com]

Okay. Whatever you want, just let's get on with it, shall we? So which will it be?

[whysosadistic.livejournal.com]

*He doesn't respond immediately, instead he shrugs out of his dark green coat and tugs his shirt from the waistband of his trousers before lifting it over his head.*

What do you think my answer is, Rosie?

[gin-and-smoke.livejournal.com]

*She twitches a smile and doesn't bother being subtle when she looks him over again. Still fit, then. That's something. She takes a stiff drink and lights a cigarette, answering around it.*

I think you'll take any excuse to whip it out, if you think you're getting laid. But that's just me.

[whysosadistic.livejournal.com]

You say that with such indifference.

*His smile is as sly as ever, but hints of genuine excitement and thrill manage to make their way to the surface.

Mulciber unbuttons his trousers and quickly kicks them off, now standing proudly in her flat wearing nothing but pants.*

I'm hurt.

[gin-and-smoke.livejournal.com]

I'm a professional. Not a sixteen-year-old.

*Unlike last time. A little calmer now that she feels she's got the upper hand - and he's stopped insulting her work - she loops the camera strap around her neck and nods to the window. She intentionally doesn't give instructions regarding the pants - it's more interesting to see what he'll do.*

On the sill, please?

[whysosadistic.livejournal.com]

Right. Well...

*Whatever lingering bits of shame are gone when Mulciber pulls his pants off. He's smug now, arms folded across his chest as he walks backwards towards the window sill.*

I'm sure I'm made for the camera.

[gin-and-smoke.livejournal.com]

*Oooh, and doesn't he just think he's the cock of the walk. Like she's never seen a dick before. Still, she hides her irritation well - the idea is to get him on the ropes, not to snipe at him all night.*

I'm sure. Go on, hop up. I want a look at the light first.

[whysosadistic.livejournal.com]

*He follows her instructions and is silent for several moments before deciding it was safe to take the piss some more.*

Let me guess, you'll save a few of these photographs for your own personal use.