I'm just Jethann, honey. But you? You can call me whatever you want. *come-hither motions*
|Sexual Orientation||Anything you want him to be.|
|Residence||Blooming Rose, Kirkwall|
|Behind the Mask|
Jethann had started out the day how he started every day: with a smile. Now, that smile had grown into a stupid grin, and it was really, really, really, really hard not to bust out laughing. Was this guy serious?
"Garahel? You're serious?" he asked, but he couldn't keep the giggles from his voice. Garahel! The guy wanted him to dress up like Garahel! How did anyone even know what Garahel looked like, anyway?
His client (some uppity noble who had clammed up like the virgin he was the second Jethann started grinning) nodded meekly and produced a replica Grey Warden uniform, only with more leather and less metal. Jethann felt the giggles bubble up in his throat and he had to turn around for a second to keep himself from laughing outright.
Eventually, though, he did manage to... kind of compose himself. He took the uniform gently and held it under his arm, limpwristing at the mortified young thing who was paying him to-- ha ha-- dress up like Garahel. "So, once I'm all pretty and Grey, what is it you want from me?" he asked, voice a purr as he held up the costume to look at it more. The nobleman stuttered, looked away, and then murmured something. Jethann held a hand to his ear, "speak up, handsome."
"I want to be tied to the bedpost and tickled," was the barely-audible reply.
Jethann lost it. In a stunning loss of professionalism, he threw his head back and laughed so hard he nearly choked, tears prickling at the edge of his eyes. This was too precious. This took the cake.
The customer got up and ran out, and Jethann was going to get such an earful from the Madame later, but it was so worth it.