"Why thank you, love," he grinned at the young brunette, "May I inquire as to who you are?"
He took one cautious step forward, assured by the light click of his heel that he was still in his own body, before daring to take a few more.
Immediately, he grabbed the faux-Grell by his ribbon, smiling lightly as he pulled him closer, stroking a sensitive spot on beneath the chin that the red reaper knew was particularly sensitive to his own body.
"On the contrary," he purred, "When one touches that part of you, the cat seems to grab hold of your tongue quite tightly."
The red reaper leaned forward, bringing his lips to the other reaper’s ear, and began to whisper in harsher tones now, “Now tell me who the hell you are and how you’re doing that before I tear your bleeding face off.”
The other Grell Sutcliff watched with intrigue as the other stepped towards him. He, however, did not expect the other to subdue him in such a way. He let out a short gasp as the other stroked the spot beneath his chin.
How could he allow himself to let this man do such a thing to him… self.
The fake Grell was unsure of what his opinion was on the situation.
"My face?" the copy of the reaper asked, holding back any urges the other sure seemed to be provoking. "Don’t you mean your face?” he let out a light laugh.
"No need to worry, I’m not going to hurt you," the fake Grell assured, trying to get free of the other’s grasp, but failing. "It’s me, the one from earlier. Don’t you remember?"
If it were any other time, Grell would have been already in violent throes of raucous laughter at the other reaper’s flushed face and compressed breath. But now was not a time for games, as his copy seemed to feel.
“Me," he spat, gripping tighter to the other’s neck ribbon now, his countenance boiling, "Me whom? Because I don’t remember meeting my long lost twin today!”
He was late.
He was so very late.
But at the moment, he felt that William would do better to shove his pruner up his own arse. He needed answers about this other Sutcliff, and he needed them now.
"You’re no fun," the reaper hissed, breaking free of the other’s grasp. Red hair shortened, darkening once more to that dull brown color the fake Grell was used to. His figure slimmed down, her teeth straightening out once more.
"I was hoping to play a little longer," she said with a sigh, her voice returning to normal. "Well, I can always try again whenever I want. Your body is quite the enigma, I’ll say."
Tabitha, now back to normal, looked the other up and down.
"Y’know, when I met you today I knew you weren’t human. I didn’t expect to solve the world’s most infamous murder case."
Grell couldn’t help but grin just a hair at this comment.
"How now, a sort of mind-reader then?" he asked, a sarcastic chuckle to his tone, "Tis true, I did have a hand in The Ripper murders, though I was mainly there for the blood…you’ve unfortunately missed the real Jack.”
His breath caught suddenly, and the jacket that was draped upon his elbows seemed to shrink upon him.
And still, he kept his smirk as he spoke to her, “She died…”
Goodbye, Madam Red…
In a whirlwind changing of the subject, Red Death suddenly advanced upon the girl.
"But enough about me, I must ask what on earth you are…I’ve met shape-shifters in my past, but none ever so…seamless…”
The reaper gave compliment where compliment was due.
The transformation was utterly flawless to a terrifying degree…