Disclaimer: Hm, do I own Malice Mizer? Sorry, I don’t.
Gackt: *cautiously drinking tea*
Mana: *rearranging the table setting*
Puff: What is it with you two? You’re so boring today!
Mana: Well, Gackt is in a bad mood.
Gackt: *looks mad* I am not in a bad mood!
Puff: I think a glomping would make him feel better!
Pre-chapter Note: I’ll probably be switching between rooms with Gackt and Mana. Please remember, when they are interviewing the people, they are in separate rooms until I say so. ^_^ Oh yes, just assume that when something happens in one room (Part of the interviews) it’s happening in the other room. Of course, you’ll be able to tell if something would only happen to either Mana or Gackt. You’re smart. ^_^
Chapter Six
“Gackt, I think we should think about hiring a few servants soon,” Mana said, lazily glancing out through the half open drapes. The crushed black velvet concealed his form from prying eyes, but allowed him to watch all that was happening on the street.
“Why?” Gackt asked flatly, leaning back in his chair.
“Because I don’t think either of us would be able to clean without something bad happening,” Mana said worriedly, quickly switching to a more happy tone, “And wouldn’t it be nice to have a butler to deal with unimportant things? A cook would be good to have, as well.” He yanked the drapes shut, settling into his own plush chair.
“Hey, I have a few housekeeping skills,” Gackt protested teasingly, faking a glare at the guitarist. Mana smoothed his skirt down over his legs, only allowing his blue eyes to flick upwards when he had finished.
“It’s not like we’d be paying for it, though,” Mana stated, brushing his long black-blue hair off of his painted face, “Remember, all of our expenses are going to be paid for us.” He raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at the vocalist, batting his long eyelashes once. Gackt thought for a moment before he smiled slightly, leaning towards the doll-like man across from him.
“We should put an ad in the local newspaper,” Gackt told Mana pointedly, standing up. Mana followed suit, smirking slightly at Gackt’s sudden change of heart.
“We’ll need to devise a few tests to see if they are up to our standards. I mean, we can’t have them freaking out over little things,” Mana said innocently, twirling a perfect curl on his fingers.
“Let’s get to work, shall we?” Gackt questioned, ushering Mana out of the living room and into the dimly lit hall way, “We’re going to be busy for a little while. When do you think we should have the interviews?” He glanced at the lovely man, who was currently fixing his hair unnecessarily in silver framed mirror.
“Probably at least three days after we put the ads in the newspaper. That way, people will have a little bit of time to take notice and give us a wider selection of applicants,” Mana stated blandly, giving a slight shrug when he finished speaking. Gackt nodded in agreement, his auburn hair barely moving.
“I’ll call the newspaper later; now, we have to think of a few tests,” Gackt said happily, pulling Mana into the kitchen. He sat the doll down in chair, set himself down right by Mana, and pulled a note pad towards them.
*Three or four days later* (Time warps are fun!!!)
A group of about thirty people mingled around Gackt and Mana’s front door. The ones closest to the door were getting annoyed because they had been there exactly on time, and no one had responded to their incessant knocking for at least twenty minutes.
“That’s it. I’m leaving!” One man snapped as he turned to push through the tightly packed crowd, inching his way past all of the other people. The door creaked open, revealing the poorly lit entrance hall. The entire group applicants looked around at one another for a moment, the bravest out of them venturing in first.
“Hi, my name is,” one girl began, smiling into the candlelit dimness, “Hello, is there anyone here?” She frowned when she realized that no one had opened the door, or they had already vanished into the shadows. Slowly all of the applicants filtered in to the room, the door slamming shut behind them. Several squeaks of fear, proclamations of poor etiquette, explanations of wind and older homes, and calls into the darkness echoed for a while until one person spotted the vaguely illuminated sign propped against a door frame.
“Is that blood?” A nervous looking girl asked, her voice frightened and squeaky. She had good reason to ask, though; the letters on the sign were spidery, almost as if they had been written with the blade of a blood-slicked knife, and in the same shade of brownish crimson that dried blood takes on.
“No, it’s the poor light that gives it that color. I’m sure it’s black or blue, if we were looking at in good light,” the first girl, the one who had begun to introduce herself when the door had first opened, “Let’s see what it says. Um, I think all of us that are here for the position of maid or chef needs to go in through that door on the left and those who are here to apply for the job of butler need to go through the right door.”
“I’ve seen horror movies that start like this. Split the people into groups; that always happens!” the jumpy girl yelped, heading for the door, “I don’t want to die!” She pounced on the heavy wooden door, twisting the antique brass knob with all the strength she had in her body. The door didn’t open; it had locked itself and now wouldn’t unlock. Murmurs resonating with fear bounced around the entrance hall.
“I say that we just do as the sign says; the people who are supposed to interview us are probably waiting for us,” the brave girl piped up, dragging her crying friend through the door on the right. Everyone followed example, wandering to where they were supposed to be with varying degrees of willingness. Quite a few checked the knob and locks of the front door before they walked off.
“Great, no one is in here,” one man sighed, flopping down on the couch. One of the other men grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back to his feet.
“I don’t think we should do that,” he warned, sighing when his friend sat back down, “It’s all immaculate and you never know how freaky these people may be.”
“I think that if they didn’t want us to sit down, they would have left one of those weird signs saying so,” he retorted, gesturing for all of the other guys to sit down on one of the seats available to them. A couple did as they were advised, but the rest looked much too nervous to sit.
“You should do as your friend says so,” Mana said softly from the shadows, stepping into the area lightly lit with candles, “Make yourselves comfortable.” Filled with terror, all of the eyes in the room riveted themselves onto Mana’s petite form. All of the men instantly relaxed when they saw the frail-looking guitarist standing politely off to the side. He walked over to a high-back chair centered in the room, in front of all the other places to sit, and carefully arranged his limbs in the chair. Delicately, gloved fingers tugged his skirt back into perfect order before his blue eyes flicked over all of the faces in front over him.
“My name is Mana and I’ll be conducting the first half your interviews,” Mana cooed lightly, folding his small hands in his lap. He blinked, blank eyes staring at the applicants as they found themselves a place to sit down. They locked their adoring eyes on the doll-like guitarist, who was quite pleased with the turn out and the attention that was being lavished on him.
Meanwhile, Gackt was just making himself apparent to the ladies in the dining room. Since that room was better lit than the living room, Gackt had to work a little harder to make his entrance more stunning than it would have been had he just walked in.
“Hello, ladies,” Gackt said cordially as he strode in, his tight leather pants further accented by the slight shadows in the room, “I’m Gackt.” He threw himself into a plump chair at the head of the table, his white button-up shirt slipping open because the top four buttons hadn’t been done up. His vaguely darkened lips curled into a tiny grin as he readjusted his shirt.
Most of the women in the room just stared for a moment, taking in the sight the delectable vocalist offered. A select few grew even more worried when Gackt walked in; the man did look intimidating with an indistinctly dangerous air about him.
“I’d like for you to come forward, one at a time, and get a little questionnaire,” Mana explained, fiddling with a thick stack of papers that he had pulled off of a nearby table, “Just fill it out and keep it until I ask for it back.” He pulled a small black notebook onto his lap as he gestured for the first man to come and get a paper.
“If you need a pen, there’s a stack on that table with the crystal lamp,” Mana added quickly, pointing a thin finger towards the table. He quickly scribbled a few words in his notebook after each man retrieved his questionnaire. His blue eyes had been scanning their movements, noting any discomfort or anxiety that he had glimpsed. Among other things, that is.
The questions on the paper started out normal enough, with simple things like listing previous employers and reasons for leaving them. There was a spot for personal information like their names and birth dates, another for special skills, and yet another for any health issues. But after question five, things started to get a little weird.
6: How high is your tolerance for the sight of blood?
7: How about your pain tolerance?
8: Do you have any aversion to odd pets?
9: Do you question things that seem out of the ordinary?
10: Would you, if the need ever arose, be able to keep silent about certain incidents?
The list of questions went on for another eight and half pages, every single applicant growing more and more wary with every passing line. Many of them kept glancing up at either Mana or Gackt, depending on what group they had been put with, their eyes wide with disbelief and shock. The girl, who had tried to escape before, broke down in tears and had to be comforted by a group of friends.
An hour passed before Mana set down his notebook, several pages filled with hurriedly scrawled notes about the applicants he had observed. He glanced up at the men, making sure that they were all done or nearly done.
“I’ll be collecting the papers on my way out,” Mana said coolly, standing up, “The answers you’ve provided will be reviewed, and then the second part of the interview will commence. It may or may not take place in this room.” He walked quickly around the living room, arranging the sheets on top of his now closed notebook. His delicately gloved fingers closed the doors when he walked into the hallway, making sure that the applicants wouldn’t be tempted to wander around the house.
“Mana, shall we look over our notes and the questionnaires?” Gackt inquired brightly, closing the door to the dining room as he joined his band mate in the candlelit corridor, “I found quite a few who are just going to have to go.” His painted companion nodded wearily in agreement, gesturing for them to go into the spare bedroom on the first floor.
They sat down, spreading the questionnaires out over the thickly carpeted floor. The notebooks were opened and a rushed exchange of words began.
Author’s Note: Just so you know, most of the questions were just to freak people out and test their nerves. Not for any real reason, besides that. *shifty eyes* Really. And don’t think Gackt was being weird when he didn’t want the servants at first. He was teasing Mana. ^_^