Disclaimer: I do not own bleach in any form.
Ulquiorra sighted. He got himself in a huge tangle. He wanted to be a compositor, not a pianist in a whore house. But still, he was able to afford a bit of more food for him and Lucifer, his precious cat. Grimmjow coughed blood when Ulquiorra told him he had a job in a cat house. Lucifer, in the other hand, only sneered at him and ate the rest of his frail pray, a dead mouse. Ulquiorra felt as if he fell two steps back in the society order of social Darwinism. A pianist in a prostitute establishment. A chaotic place full of half-naked girls in bright and colorful corsets and short skirts, dancing ballet and singing songs about desperate women falling in love with desperate men. It all bothered Ulquiorra, since he hated noise, but he was in it for the money.
"A whore house? Are you serious? Ulquiorra! What the hell! I never knew you had a thing for prostitutes." Nelliel laughed while she set the bread basket on the kitchen table.
"If I had a thing for prostitutes I would be up your ass right now." Ulquiorra looked at her with his dim green eyes.
"Are you calling me a whore? For your information, I didn't get paid for this!" The eighteen year old pointed at her belly and huffed.
"Well, you should have kept your legs together." He said while setting the bread on the table and offered a plate of bread to Lucifer.
"So, have you figured out what you want?" Nelliel's voice turned serious.
"I'm just going to start small. Then build my way to the top, just like Napoleon Bonaparte*." Ulquiorra looked at Nelliel and bitted the 3 day old baguette.
"Mmm… I don't like this Bonaparte, he sounds fishy." Nelliel eyed suspiciously at Ulquiorra.
"Let's not talk about my political views, woman." Ulquiorra finished setting the breads and Nelliel quickly left to take care of Grimmjow.
"Un, deux, trois, un, deux, trois…" The rhythmic mumble died in the background music as Yoruichi, the head whore, that's what Matsumoto called her, taught the well-developed eye appealing women that danced on the stage.
"Hey Ulquiorra! Could you play something that doesn't want to make want to kill myself?" Yoruichi barked from stage left.
Ulquiorra just wanted to rip that woman's head and feed it to the wolves. Yoruichi was a rather interesting woman. She had women clients instead of men clients, which in France, during these times, same sex relationships are widely disapproved, but France is a free country at last, so nothing could stop her. Yoruichi belonged to the aristocracy before the revolution, and she was stripped away from her family. Her dad was beheaded in the Guillotine** because he swore loyalty to the king and her mom was a pompous woman, with no moral values what so ever. When the revolution struck, Yoruichi's mom fled to Austria, and left her husband and daughter alone in a mist of confusion and blood. After the revolution, she sold her house to the state for a hundred mere francs, and lived in a one room apartment in one of the poorest areas in Paris.
Ulquiorra quickened the pace of the song, and actually made a relaxing, eerie, fresh improve. He looked over at Orihime, the youngest dancer.
Orihime was as old as Nelliel, but Ulquiorra thought she had more dignity than Nelliel. Orihime lived with her sick brother, who suffers from tuberculosis. Orihime was the only dancer in the whole Moulin, and as much as men hated it, she only danced and sang. She was eye appealing too, but in an exotic way. Her hair was orange and her eyes were grey. She loved weird food and always brought bread and other mixes unknown to the Moulin's crew, which made them stay away from Orihime's food. She was sweet, and no matter how hard things got, she was able to pull through with a smile. Sometimes, her eyes clouded with a glim of hope, hope that she would return home and find her brother alive and well, when his brother only had months left.
"Umm… it's Ulquiorra, right?" Ulquiorra looked up and found Orihime staring at him, with her sweet smile.
"What do you want woman." His cold voice clashed with Orihime's warm aura.
"No, wait, I mean—sorry, it's just we haven't introduced ourselves in a proper fashion yet…" She turned red and laughed nervously.
Ulquiorra looked back up at Orihime. Even though she was given a heavenly chest, and she had a goddess like body frame, she was only a teenager. Ulquiorra dropped his cold face, and changed it by his normal every day face.
"Ulquiorra Schiffer." He lifted a hand from the piano.
"Orihime Inoue…" She smiled widely and shook his hand.
"Hey! Orihime! We don't have the whole day in here!" Matsumoto, the beautiful woman, with curves curvier than a circle, waved at Orihime.
Matsumoto was a foreigner, as the rest of the Moulin crew in here. But instead of being from nearby countries, as Spain, Germany, or Italy, she was from Russia. Matsumoto fled from Russia when she was thirteen and lived in Austria for a while. There, she was taught how to read and write in Dutch, and French. Before the revolution, she had to move to France, and there she lived for two months. Then when the revolution struck, she moved to the provinces, far away from Paris, and then to Toulouse. Two years after, when the revolution was barely over, Matsumoto decided to move back to Paris. Now, she shares a three room apartment with an illiterate family working desperately to feed their child and a single, romantically hopeless poet.
The establishment opened half our later. The theater was filled with men; there were rich men, poor men, and men that were tired of their wives. Rum and liquor was served, and beer too. Soon, the establishment was filled, and the cheers for more dances tormented the theater.
"Are you ready for the party?" Yoruichi shouted in stage.
She was wearing a small, red corset, decorated with sparkles and whatnot, while wearing a skirt under her knees, which was considerate way to short in those times. Her bare shoulders shone under the light of the theater. She wore her ballerina shoes and twirled one on them, lifting her skirt, and showing her private glory, while everyone cheered.
"Then, let's get this started! Hit it Ulquiorra!" Yoruichi cheered.
The red curtains opened and a group of ballerinas came out. Some of them were unknown to Ulquiorra, but he saw them before, and some of them were known to him. They all wore vivid corsets, and from what Ulquiorra noted, no underwear. He decided not to pay attention to the dancers and concentrate on the piano. His hands quickly shifted in the piano, on alien keys, while the accelerate melody rolled off from the piano strings. His head quickly moved from side to side, keeping up with the vivid harmony of the song.
A vivid harmony.
When was the last time Ulquiorra played a vivid harmony.
Thank you for all the reviews~!
People asked if this was a tragedy. It is kind of a tragedy, but not as bad as Romeo and Juliet, no one dies... except some minor characters, but that's it.
*Napoleon basically builded his way up to the top, and he was born in Italy, and no one really liked him...
**The guillotine is one of the most bloodsheding contraptions there is been in france, it killed about 50,000 people.
Please keep reviewing!
bye bye!