The Next Top Model: Soul Society
Chapter 7: Animal Instincts Photo Shoot
The other twelve contestants missed Kuukaku the next morning - at least, that's what some of them told each other - as they trickled down the curving staircase to the kitchen, fearful of what the Living girl might be cooking for breakfast.
Not to worry.
"Tara mail!" Orihime sang out as the other girls swarmed around her at the hall table. She hurriedly opened the envelope. "'You've had enough time to get the hang of modeling, so now we're changing things up. Who can work this change the most?'" She looked at the rest of them with confusion. "What does that mean?"
"Maybe we're going to go to somewhere exotic," Retsu said. "Like Paris."
"Or Forbidden City," Yoruichi said, looking to Soifon, who smiled.
"Or Milan," Yumichika said.
"Or Chuck E. Cheese's," Yachiru chirped.
They all looked at her, nodding.
"That would be fun, too," Orihime said dreamily. She looked back down at the note. "We have thirty minutes to get ready!"
Thirty minutes later all the contestants were ready, dressed in jeans and white tank tops, Yachiru's with tiny bells sewn into the hem that tinkled when she trotted into the Paul Mitchell salon in downtown Tokyo.
Ray Migel was waiting for them, dressed in his favorite vintage black The Clash t-shirt and black jeans, as he watched the twelve contestants filter into the styling room. With him were an army of black attired, overly accessorized consultants, stylists, and Miss Ray - in white canvas pants and knit shirt.
"Hallo, ladies!" the Rays said in unison.
A chorus of 'Hi Ray, Miss Ray' went up from the contestants.
Ray grinned at them and rubbed his hands together. "Today we're at the Paul Mitchell Salon, where you're all going to get your new looks. From cut and color you'll go to makeup where Smashbox cosmetics will recreate your new image - your top model makeovers!"
The contestants all squealed, some unsure why.
"You're all gonna be bea-u-ti-ful!" Miss Ray said with a flourish and a snap of his fingers.
Ray pointed to Momo. "You'll be losing the cap, going a shade lighter, and Fiona will be bringing out your cheekbones with fabulous Smashbox cosmetics!"
Momo looked bewildered until one of the heavily adorned stylists pointed at her and waved her over to her styling station.
"Okay..." Momo said slowly, following the stylist into the rows of ultra-modern stations with enormous mirrors. Momo carefully climbed into the chair and let out a yelp as Fiona ratcheted the chair up three notches.
Ray singled out Rukia. "Rukia, dear, you're going with Marc, who's going to shorten that 'do and give you a high-dollar face!"
Rukia frowned at him, and then looked to the flamingly dressed stylist, Marc, with the faceful of piercings. She reluctantly followed him to a styling station.
Ray pointed. "Yoruichi, we're giving you angled bangs and a tawny mane to go with those brilliant eyes."
He called off the rest of the contestants one by one, and they followed their respective stylists to the mirrored stations. A murmur of grumbling rose louder through the salon, and the Rays began to circulate to check on the progress. It didn't take long to find the problems.
Ray was at Nanao's chair two minutes later.
Nanao sat in the chair, glaring at the stylist who held the scissors near her hair. "You're not cutting my hair."
The stylist gave a dramatic sigh and looked to Ray. "Ray..."
Ray put one hand on the back of the chair and looked at Nanao in the mirror. "Nanao, sweetie, everyone's getting their hair and makeup done today. We're going with a deeper black sheen, just a bit of fringe over your eyes -"
"No."
"Nanao..."
"No, Ray."
Ray stood behind her and fluffed up her hair with both hands. "All it is -"
Nanao snapped around in the chair and snatched off her glasses, giving him a piercing look.
"Aghh!" Ray stepped back, aghast. He blinked several times, then looked, ashen-faced, to the stylist. "Forget the hair. Send her to makeup."
Ray backed slowly away from Nanao. He shivered, and went to where another styling station where Rangiku had the stylist pinned against his own mirror, the scissors in her hand at his throat. "No, no, Rangiku!"
"... and, yes, I know how to hurt you, boy," Rangiku was saying to the terrified stylist as Ray rushed over.
"Put the scissors down and let the stylist go, Rangiku," Ray said slowly, making lowering gestures with his hands. "He's just going to -"
Rangiku released the stylist's black shirt, which was unbuttoned to his waist, and turned to face Ray. "I don't want to be platinum blonde! I'll look like Saitou Hitomi!"
Ray recalled the Melon Kinenbi member, looking to the mole near Rangiku's lip. "But she's beautiful."
"Yeah, but I don't want to look like her. I'm me."
Ray nodded slowly, reaching for the scissors she handed him. "Okay, maybe just lighten your hair a little -"
"No."
"Then highlights, to bring out -"
"No. No cutting, no coloring." Rangiku crossed her arms, straining her tank top, lifting an eyebrow.
After a thirty second stare down, Ray consented. "Okay, head on over to the Smashbox consultants for your makeup," he said.
Rangiku beamed. "Thanks, Ray!"
"It might count against you at judges' table!"
She waved him off.
Ray turned around as a screeching sound came from across the room. At another station Hiyori was standing on the chair, grabbing the stylist's hair until the bony-skinny woman howled in pain.
"I don't want a faux-hawk!" Hiyori tugged harder on the stylist's pink and gold hair. "You hear me?!"
Ray pushed his way through the other stylists who were arguing with the contestants to where the Vizard was attempting to crawl on top her stylist's shoulder.
"Get her off! Get her off!" the stylist cried, batting at Hiyori.
Ray got as close to Hiyori as he dared. "Hiyori, honey, back in the chair."
Hiyori turned on him, brandishing a handful of pink-gold hair she'd ripped from the stylist's head. "I don't want to look like a push-broom!"
"Faux-hawks are very fashionable now -"
"No!"
"Okay, let Marie go and we'll see what else we can do for your hair," he said desperately.
Hiyori released the stylist and slumped into the chair, staring at Ray in the mirror. "I like my hair."
"Okay, okay." He sighed. "Head on over to makeup for your consultation." Barely had he dodged Hiyori's beeline for the makeup room than he heard another squeal, this one of glee. He looked around until he found the slightly overweight stylist hovering over Nemu sitting very erectly in a chair before a mirror across the room.
Curious, he went there.
The stylist pulled a plump hair through Nemu's short hair, nodding at her in the mirror. "... just a little shorter, and some blue highlights to bring out the natural ... inkiness."
Ray grinned at them. "Well, it seems like Nemu is cooperating with us." He looked at Nemu in the mirror. "What do you think of what Chantilly has planned for you?"
"It is acceptable."
"It's ... acceptable?" Ray frowned, then shrugged, unwilling to question her agreeableness. "Let me see it when it's done, Chantilly."
As he turned, Miss Ray took Ray's arm. "Trouble in paradise," the effeminate man said in a muted tone. He nodded to where Yachiru was sitting on the stylist's table before the mirror, applying thick layer upon layer of different colors of lipstick - to her cheeks. "She got to Smashbox early."
"Good lord, what's wrong with these girls?" Ray looked around at the other stations where the shinigami were arguing with the stylists, and winning.
"No one wants there hair cut or colored."
They both looked to Nemu, where Chantilly was making a superhuman effort to cut through her hair with the scissors.
"What's going on now?" Miss Ray said. They watched as Chantilly b
rought out another pair of scissors, and attempted to cut Nemu's hair, to no avail.
Ray waved at them. "Forget the cut, Chantilly. Go straight to the tint."
Miss Ray nodded to where Orihime was at another station, shaking her head adamantly. The Rays went there.
"... I can't," Orihime said through her tear-stained face to the sympathetic stylist. "I can't cut my hair."
He patted her shoulder. "But Miss Ray said -"
"What'd I say?" Miss Ray asked, looking at the stylist, then to Orihime. "What's up, sugar?"
Orihime sniffed, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "I never cut my hair."
"Everyone is getting their hair cut and colored today, princess," Ray said gently.
Orihime looked around at the rest of the salon, where no one was getting their hair cut. "No, they're not."
The Rays exchanged looks.
"Refusing to have your hair cut will come up at judges' table," Miss Ray said. "It could send you home."
Orihime nodded. "You're going to send us all home?"
Ray groaned. "She's got a point," he said lowly to Miss Ray. He looked back to Orihime's sad brown eyes. "Okay, head on over to makeup and let them -"
"Thanks!" Orihime was out of the chair in a flash, bounding toward the makeup room.
The Rays looked around the salon at the malcontent stylists and the resisting contestants.
"Well, this was a bust," Ray said.
"Tara be ma-ad," Miss Ray said with a nod.
After the attempted hair and somewhat successful Smashbox makeovers, the contestants assembled before the cameras and lights against the blue backdrop for the group collage shot.
A frazzled Ray stood before them, looking taxed, and gazed out over them all with unconcealed dismay.
"Ladies, I have to tell you, refusing to have your hairstyles changed will come up at the elimination judging," he said pointedly.
The contestants stared back at him, unmoved.
"Only Nemu agreed to the changes Tara wanted to see made."
They all looked to Nemu, who looked exactly the same as before.
"There's nothing changed about her," Yoruichi said.
"No, no." Ray scratched the back of his head. Nemu's hair had proved un-cuttable, resisted color applications, and wouldn't hold a curl, no matter how much it was processed. It didn't even smell of chemicals after two hours of treatments.
It confused both Rays.
But they moved on.
Ray quickly assembled the twelve contestants to take their individual beauty shots that would later appear in a somewhat embarrassingly close pose after editing. They had all insisted on the natural beauty look, utilizing very few of the cosmetics Smashbox had hoped to impose on them. Ray spoke until he was nearly hoarse, trying to dictate poses he wanted without needlessly annoying the ones prone to becoming annoyed, of which there were many. Some were surprisingly photogenic. Others never would be.
The contestants spent the rest of the day relaxing around the pool, eating what they individually fixed for dinner, theorizing what the next elimination photo shoot would be, and glossing their lips.
Except Yumichika, who spent all of forty-five minutes vigorously scrubbing his face to remove the metro-sexual look from his features.
It was five-thirty the next morning when Nanao and Retsu sat with Nemu in the kitchen of the house, drinking tea. They were always the first up in the morning, which left the lavender bedroom to Momo and Rangiku upstairs.
Nanao narrowed her eyes at the cameraman who stood at the corner of the room, an omnipresent presence that was starting to wear on her nerves.
Retsu's, too.
"Aren't you ever going to leave?" Nanao asked him, knowing the answer.
The cameraman shook his head.
Nanao sighed, looking to Retsu. "Not even a real answer."
Restu shrugged. "You knew that going into this."
Nanao looked back at the cameraman, who appeared restless, watching them anxiously.
"Just do it!" she called to him. "We know you're going to!"
The cameraman looked around awkwardly, and quickly walked over to the plant stand beneath the living room mirror. He slipped the envelope into the holder, and hastily returned to the corner, lifting his camera into position again.
Retsu looked to Nemu, then to Nanao. "Should we?"
"How much you want to bet the Living girl will be down in fifteen seconds?"
Nemu looked to Nanao. "She's on her way now."
Barely had Nemu finished speaking than Orihime skipped down the stairs in her pink camisole and short set, hair disheveled, and went straight to the stand.
"Tara mail!" she called out happily, dancing from foot to foot.
"Told you," Nanao said as she and Retsu and Nemu met Orihime.
The thunder of footfalls on the staircase announced the rest of the contestants as they rushed Orihime.
"Ooh! Ooh! What is it?" Rangiku asked, tucking herself in as her short yellow robe fell open.
The cameraman zoomed in.
"Read it!" Yachiru insisted, climbing halfway up Yamichika's back.
"Oh, what nice penmanship Tara has," Orihime marveled.
Everyone leaned closer as Soifon snagged the letter from Orihime.
"'Sometimes it's not about the fashion; it's about the image that you have to portray, and this client has a mammoth-sized image in mind. Be ready at six-am.'"
"Mammoth?" Rukia repeated.
"Elephants!" Momo said, cowering a little.
Everyone looked to the clock on the wall.
"What time is it now?" Yachiru asked.
"Yikes!" Orihime said. "Half an hour!"
Forty-five minutes later they were all assembled in front of the peacock pen at the East Tokyo Zoo, the camera crew and lights set up before a display of potted tropical plants. Ray Migel - dressed in khaki pants and button-up shirt - looked at them all, in a slightly better mood than the preceding day during the un-makeovers. Beside him stood his assistant.
Ray held his hands up as Yachiru bopped around happily at her surroundings and Hiyori did chimp calls.
"Good morning, ladies!"
"Morning, Mr. Ray," they all sang back.
"Today's elimination photo shoot will be done here, in the new peacock pen at the East Toledo Zoo," he said, gesturing to the expanse of yard. "Next month is the grand opening dedication of the peacock pen, and the zoo has commissioned billboards to be placed around the city." He smiled grandly at them. "Featuring all of you!"
"Us?" Momo asked.
"You, dearie," Ray said, nodding. "You'll each be assigned a type of animal. You're to take that animal, and bring it life - model style. Now remember," he said, looking to Hiyori, "you're a model first; a model acting like your assigned animal. The zoo wants wild, exotic, alluring animal photos. Not rabid take-a-bite-out-of-the-visitor photos. But keep your spark. Got it?"
Shaking of heads, a few nods.
"Well, I'll walk you through it when it's your turn." He pointed to a curtained area that was set up behind him. "Now, I'll call off your names and what animal you're to emulate, and then head to dressing and makeup." He looked to the notepad his assistant handed him.
"I want to be a gazelle," Orihime whispered to Rukia.
"Ooh, me, too," Rukia said with a nod.
"Momo," Ray said, reading from the notepad, "you're a butterfly. "Nanao, you're a zebra! Yachiru, you're a pony!"
"Yes!" Yachiru cried, leaping into the air. "Yes! Yes!"
"...Retsu, you're a snow tiger. Nemu, black widow spider. Hiyori, monkey..."
A giggle went through the contestants. Hiyori didn't know whether to be angry or happy. She scowled.
"... Soifon, you're a panda. Yumichika, you're a peacock..."
Nanao looked to Yumichika. "You're a peacock, and I'm a zebra?" She rolled her eyes.
Yumichika frowned.
"... Yoruichi, you're a black panther..."
Yoruichi smiled, nudging Soifon.
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"... Rukia, you're a rabbit..."
Rukia jumped up and down. "Chappy!"
"No. Rabbit," Ray repeated. "Rangiku, you're a giraffe, and Orihime, you're a squirrel." He handed the notepad to his assistant. "Got it? Now head to dressing and makeup, and show us your animal instincts!"
An hour later, Yoruichi was up first, and she glided onto set with a catlike prowess that seemed all too fitting for her role. She wore an-all black ensemble of a velour vest and pants, and the make-up around her eyes had been done in a way that made her look even more feline-like, if that was even possible.
"This is going to be an easy shoot," Ray whispered quietly to the photographer, who nodded slightly in agreement as he watched Yoruichi take center stage.
"Just give us those feline poses," Ray said to her, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun.
Yoruichi stood in front of a small grove of ferns, then crouched down slightly before stopping. "No hooch, right?" she asked, one brow raised a bit.
"That's right. Keep it model-y," replied Ray, his tone hopeful.
That hope wasn't acknowledged, unfortunately.
After Yoruichi's shoot was finished, and after the photographer had stopped his gushing nosebleed with a whole box of tissues, Orihime stepped into the pen, looking slightly bewildered, but yet excited at the same time.
Her hair was tied back in a high ponytail, one that resembled a tail of a squirrel, and in addition to the wide-eyed squirrel-esque makeup, she was wearing a brown flannel form-fitting top and matching brownish-red capris pants that had vertical running stripes that were reminiscent of a squirrel's.
"Do I have to climb the tree?" she asked, frowning slightly as she looked up at the tall tropical tree that looked to be the centerpiece of the shoot.
"No, you don't actually have to climb it," Ray said, turning and fishing around for something in a bag. "We just want you posing by it, and interacting with it." He pulled out a black plastic bag and tossed it to her.
Orihime caught it, still a little perplexed.
"Acorns," Ray elaborated with a nod. "Scatter them around there."
"Oh. Okay." Orihime did as was told, and after she was finished, another crewman came over and got the bag from her.
"All right Orihime; ready?" Ray asked as the photographer got into position, a tissue stuffed up one nostril.
The girl nodded eagerly. "Yup."
"Show me squirrel!"
Orihime crouched and started digging in the perfectly cropped grass, burying an acorn.
"No, no, honey," Ray said quickly. "Don't dig up the grass. Just be squirrel-like."
She looked at him for a moment, and then stooped, gathering up acorns, clutching them to her chest, chattering at them, shouting, "Mine, mine, mine!"
"Well, that's better," Ray said as the photographer snapped shots.
When Orihime was finished with shooting and collecting nuts, the scene was changed to include a fake log at center. Ray looked around for Momo as the crew situated the log for its best angle.
"Momo!"
Momo stepped forward, looking especially delicate in her black sequined leotard and tights, black and gold antennae sprouting from her headband. From her shoulders draped a cape of spectrum colored beads, attached at the ends to her wrists. She looked to Ray, shuffling to the log.
"Now Momo, you're a butterfly, a newly formed butterfly, opening your new wings," he said, nodding to the log. "Use the log to show us flight."
Momo smiled. She leaped onto the log, spreading her arms to open the colorfully beaded cape, arching high into the air. She landed and leaped again.
"Wow," Ray said, surprised, looking to the photographer that was snapping away. "Are you getting this?"
"You bet."
Ray nodded. "Very good, Momo. Be sure to look at the camera when you're leaping."
Ten minutes later Momo had completed her successful shoot, bringing a smile from both Ray and the photographer.
For Yachiru's shoot the log was removed, and a fake fence brought in. Ray looked around for the pink-haired girl.
"Where's Yachiru?" he asked his assistant.
The Japanese man pointed to where Yachiru was galloping around in her pink felt suit, a pony-eared headband on her head, hair extensions flowing behind her in pink, yellow, and purple.
"Yachiru!" Ray called.
The pony-girl looked his way and galloped toward them.
Ray grinned and nodded to the photographer. "Shoot her now."
The photographer snapped away as Yachiru got closer, bobbing her head, hands held up prancing-pony style in front of her. She galloped up to the fence and jumped over it and stopped before Ray.
She gave him her best whinny.
Ray gave her a thumbs-up.
And then she took off again across the peacock pen.
Ray sighed. "Did you get any good ones?" he asked the photographer.
"A dozen."
"Good." Ray looked down at his notepad as the log was brought back out. "Rukia!"
Rukia hopped up to him in a white rabbit suit and ears.
"No, don't actually hop, Rukia."
Rukia twitched her black drawn-on whiskers at him.
"This is more Easter Bunny than rabbit," Ray said. "I want to see rabbit."
Rukia jumped onto the log and looked at him. "Pyon! Pyon!" She bared her teeth at Ray and growled.
It took the whole fifty frames to get a decent photo of Rukia that wasn't too fluffy or too savage.
The rest of the afternoon was spent shooting, chasing down Yachiru, and coaxing Hiyori out of the trees. Judging was in two hours, so the contestants headed back to the house for a quick clean-up, and were back before the judges table that evening.
Tara, size svelte, stood in front of the table, dressed in a skin-tight leopard print sheath dress that showed her curves, a necklace of dusty gold beads shaped like endangered animals at her neck. She looked at the twelve contestants at the other end of the carpet runner.
She then proceeded to recite the prizes that were to be won for being the last model standing, and went on to introduce the judges.
"First, on my left is runway trainer extraordinaire, Miss Ray Constance."
Miss Ray nodded and smiled.
"On my right is noted fashion photographer, Virgil Parker." She gestured to said cameraman, who flashed all of the girls a charming smile.
"We also have Mr. Ishida, fashion designer for the hippest of Tokyo-ites. And, last but not least, is this week's guest judge," she said, pausing, "Mr. Kiss-kay U-ra-haha."
Kisuke nodded with a slight grin playing at his lips, dipping his hat slightly.
"All righty then. Now that we've got that out of the way, let's look at everyone's best shots." Tara took her seat and then smiled at Momo. "Momo, you're up first."
Momo hesitantly came to the front of the pack, then scuttled down to where the red carpet runner ended.
"Oh, I forgot to address this before," Tara began suddenly, sitting forward slightly. "This week, you were all supposed to have makeovers, but in actuality, it was really just a test," she said quietly, emphasizing the last word. A smile came to her lips. "We actually think that you all already have hairstyles appropriate for your faces and body types, so we suggested makeovers that wouldn't suit them at all, to see if any of you would realize how crazy you'd look and object."
A chorus of "oh"s and sighs of relief erupted from the group of models.
"As it turns out, only Nemu agreed to the makeover," Tara said, looking to Nemu at first, and then turning to the other judges. "What was it, Nemu," she began to ask, "that made you agree to it?"
Nemu clasped her hands tightly in front of her. "I was told to."
Miss Ray adjusted his twelve-pointed tiara as he sat up straighter. "You can't blame a girl for following orders."
"But in turn you would have to penalize the ones that didn't go along with it," Virgil said, rather smartly, in some people's opinions.
"But that would mea
n everyone else would be sent home," Tara said.
"Wait. So Nemu wins?" Uryuu asked, suddenly interested in the conversation. "It's over? We're finished filming?"
The contestants all exchanged nervous and confused glances, and after a quiet, incoherent conversation between the judges, Tara sat straighter in her chair again, completely poised and pleasant looking.
"We will proceed with the judging," she said sweetly, smiling at Momo, who had been standing in front of the judge's table for nearly ten minutes. "Let's see your best shot, Momo."
The photograph of Momo flicked onto the screen, and Miss Ray gasped.
"Now if that isn't a butterfly about to take flight, I don't know what is."
"Good pose," Virgil said, nodding a little. "It would've been really easy to take this to a cartoonish level, but you've done a nice job of not overdoing the pose. Your arms are raised just enough, and your face is absolutely flawless."
Momo shuffled a little, blushed, and bowed her head some. "Thank you."
"All right. Thanks, Momo." Tara smiled at her. "Next is Rangiku."
Rangiku sauntered down the carpet, stopped, and gave them a bewitching smile.
Virgil smiled back.
Tara's eye twitched. "What was your animal, Rangiku?"
"Giraffe."
"Let's see your best shot."
On the screen appeared Rangiku in camel colored, brown-splotched bodysuit, her exposed skin made-up to match, her hair pulled severely back from her face in a top bun. Her head was turned away, her brown and tan painted neck angled to appear elongated, fake black lashes over her half open eyes looking at the camera, balancing stiltedly on her six-inch platform shoes in a stance that showed off her long legs.
"You got it, girl!" Tara said with an enthusiastic smile. "Giraffe isn't easy to pull off, but I see model here!"
Virgil nodded. "Very elegant. Very good."
Tara smiled at Rangiku. "Thank you. Now we'll look at," she looked to the other contestants as Rangiku returned to the line-up, "Soifon."
Soifon waked down the runner to stand before the judges table.
"What was your animal, Soifon?" Tara asked perkily.
"Panda."
"Oh, cute. Let's see your best shot, Soifon." Tara looked at the screen as a photo of Soifon in a black and white slightly blousing Lycra suit showed up, round black ears on her head, and dark makeup around her eyes. "Hmm, I see panda, but not so much model."
"I see all panda," Uryuu said, barely audible.
Miss Ray looked at the screen, shaking his head. "Lordy, that's one sad stuffed animal. Who would hug that?"
Soifon glared at him, reaching one hand to her scabbard before remembering she didn't have it with her.
"Pandas are generally thought to be cuddly, at least," Virgil said, wagging a finger at the screen. "This isn't cuddly or model-like."
Soifon narrowed her eyes at him. "Pandas are lethal. They are bears."
Tara forced a smile into place. "Thank you, Soifon."
The contestants continued until each had had their fair share of criticism. Tara finally dismissed them for the judges deliberation. When they were gone, all male judges' hands reached for the photo of Yoruichi on the table before Tara.
"Let go," Kisuke said as Virgil gripped the photo.
Virgil frowned. "In a minute. This girl has real feline likenesses; not just the makeup and outfit. You can almost see her purr and growl."
"She does purr," Kisuke said, his eyes moving over the photo of the black panther-like woman posing supplely, golden eyes on the camera as if daring it to move, dark skin catching the lighting perfectly.
"What exactly does that mean?" Virgil asked, fingers tight on the photo Kisuke was still trying to pull away.
"Uh... she ..." Kisuke cleared his throat and gave a goofy smile. "I'd have to say she wins."
Uryuu was having none of it. He held up a photo of Orihime clutching acorns. "This is better. Anyone can do a cat. Now a squirrel - that takes ability."
Miss Ray sighed. "Every week it's Orihime with you. You got a thing for her, Mr. Ishida?"
Uryuu blushed scarlet. "...No..."
Kisuke took the moment to yank the photo of Yoruichi from Virgil, who glowered at him.
Tara sighed and stuck the photo of Rangiku in Virgil's hands, and then she held up Retsu, who was outfitted similarly to Yoruichi, except in snow tiger motif. "Now this is cat, too, but Retsu just doesn't embody the same essence Yoruichi does."
Virgil nodded in agreement, glancing briefly at Retsu before looking again to Rangiku's photo.
Miss Ray sighed and gave a mock yawn, patting his mouth with his hand. "Boring kitty, Retsu is." He pulled Nanao's photo from the stack before Tara. "Zebra. Not an easy animal, but Nanao gives it a good shot." He pointed to where Nanao's hair was tufted in sectional ponytails down the center of her head to fall at the nape of her neck. Her face was made up in stark black and white striped makeup. "Her eyes have that liquid animal quality, and she sells zebra. Not horse; ze-bra."
"Which brings us to My Little Pony." Tara held up a photo of Yachiru in pony-drag. "Ray Migel absolutely fell all over himself loving this girl's photo. She didn't even pose; he just had the photographer shoot her in full gallop."
Virgil looked at the photo of the girl, still gripping the picture of Rangiku. "Yachiru is good in this one. Not exactly top model, but I can see it on a billboard. It would bring a smile from everyone who saw it. It sells zoo."
Miss Ray tapped the photo of Hiyori under Tara's hand. "So does this one. It screams 'Caution: Monkey House.'"
Kisuke looked sadly to the photo, sighing.
Tara giggled, pushing the photo of Hiyori in her monkey suit, dangling by one hand from a tree limb, screeching at the camera.
Virgil shrugged. "She didn't give it a chance. If she stopped with the rabid Kuukaku-grin it would have been better. Monkeys can work; Berryz Koubou released a music video to Yuke Yuke Monkey Dance, and it was huge. Those costumes were hideously cute, but they made it work. Hiyori," he gestured to the photo, sighing, "she exudes 'get lost' in every shoot."
Tara nodded in agreement and set two photos before her. "What do we think about Yumichika and Rukia?"
"Yumichika did... pretty darn good," Miss Ray admitted after a moment as he looked at said contestant's photo. "Yumichika captured the essence of peacock. If that's even possible."
"It certainly is," Virgil said, looking at the photograph as it was handed to him. In the picture, Yumichika stood proudly, slightly to the side, with make-up that made his eyes bird-like and an outfit that resembled the colorful plumage of a peacock, but without the humungous tail fanned out, instead draped gracefully in a large semi-circle.
"I say Yumichika's in," Tara said, taking the photo back.
Uryuu shifted slightly. "But I don't think that -"
"And here," Tara said quickly, cutting him off, yet again, "is Nemu. The only one who listened and agreed in the makeovers."
Miss Ray hmphed. "Oh, she said yes, honey, but there was no make-overing done. I don't know what that girl is made out of, but she is tough."
Uryuu chuckled, and Kisuke nodded, smiling widely.
Tara held up the photo of Nemu in a velvet black widow spider bodysuit, three mock spider legs dangling from either side of her torso, supported by thin fishing wire that was attached to her wrists so the legs moved when her arms did. She was crouched, arms hunkered, somehow still looking seductively deadly.
"Looks fake," Kisuke offered.
Uryuu shook his head. "I think she's very well done."
The other judges looked from Kisuke to Uryuu.
"Are we all looking at the same girl?" Miss Ray asked in confusion. "'Cause I see a big spider. Not a fake one."
Kisuke shrugged. "I guess so."
Virgil nodded. "She's good. But there's still something dead about the eyes. Shark-like."
"Next. Rukia," Tara said, eager to move the subject away from her failed attempts at makeovers. "She's the
last one."
"Definitely didn't save the best for last," Virgil said with a sigh as he looked over the picture, where Rukia was posing more as a rabid Chappy gigai than she was as a rabbit. "I'm not sure what it is about this picture, but it just doesn't work."
"It doesn't even remotely resemble rabbit," Uryuu said.
"Well, that's all of them," Tara said slowly as Virgil handed the photograph of Rukia back to her. "Virgil."
He looked to her.
"You're petting the giraffe again."
Virgil took his fingers from off Rangiku's photo.
Tara looked down the table. "Have we reached a decision?"
Everyone nodded.
The contestants returned to the room, where Tara stood in front of the judging table with eleven photos in hand. Once all of the models were settled, she continued, "Twelve beautiful girls stand before me, but I only have eleven photos in my hands. The girl whose name I do not call must immediately return to the house, pack their belongings, and go home."
Everyone nodded silently and Tara cleared her throat, then turned over the first photo in her hands.
"Yoruichi."
Yoruichi stepped forward and received her photo, then slinked back into the line, tossing a sly look Kisuke's way.
"Momo," Tara said next, and Momo came forward and received her photo.
Then, it was Yumichika. After that, Rangiku, Soifon, Nanao, Yachiru, Nemu, Retsu, and Orihime were all called. The only two left were Rukia and Hiyori, standing before Tara.
"Rukia," Tara said slowly, looking at the dark-haired girl. "Hiyori." Her voice took on a somber tone. "One of you is going home today." She paused, then continued. "Rukia, we feel as though you didn't exactly capture the essence of what is the rabbit," she said. "You were a little too goofy, we felt. But it was still an earnest effort, and you've definitely got potential." She looked to Hiyori now. "Hiyori, you, on the other hand, didn't seem to take it seriously at all. You were way too literal in your portrayal of a monkey, and not only that, but you didn't listen to what Ray and the photographer were telling you. The last thing that a client wants is a model that doesn't listen. Only one of you will be continuing on in this competition, though, and we're about to find out who." Tara paused, raising the last photograph that she held in her hand slightly. Then, ever so slowly, she turned it over. "Rukia. Congratulations."
Rukia's limpid eyes pooled tears with emotion. "Thank you, Tara."
Hiyori frowned intensely. "That means I'm out?"
Tara nodded. "You couldn't show us more than fierce and angry, and a top model needs -"
"Yeah, yeah." Hiyori waved her down.
"I voted for you!" Kisuke called out helpfully.
Hiyori gave him half a grin and turned on her heel. "See ya!" she said with a wave at the other contestants.
And then there were eleven.