... well, there's always a line at the gates of Hell, but I go right to the front 'cause I dress this well ... CRUELLA DE VIL. 36 years old. founder of the house of de vil. london heiress, fashion designer, creative director. better than you in absolutely every way. ( muse for waltrp )
─◇─◇ the woman who needs no introduction ... CRUELLA DE VIL
inspired by the original cruellas : glenn close in 101 dalmations (1996) and 102 dalmatians (2000) ; emma stone in cruella (2021) ; victoria smurfit in once upon a time ; betty lou gerson voicing cruella in 101 dalmatians (1961)
— additional inspo : daphne kluger ( ocean’s 8 ), miranda priestly ( the devil wears prada ), tallulah bankhead, cat grant ( supergirl ), jordan baker ( the great gatsby ), tahani al-jamil ( the good place )
!! quick first impression: that hair. is the white side natural? dyed? she's always had it, it's the cruella staple. she walks tall in sharp heels and her bare arms flex with lean muscle. cruella wears clothes from a mix of labels and houses, but she will always have a staple 'house of de vil' item on. ever since her — ahem — 'stumble' from grace ( those puppy fur accusations were over-exaggerated !! ), she hasn't been wearing any animal products on her person. no real fur, no real leather. sigh
STATS.
FULL NAME: cruella de vil
BIRTHDAY: january 31st ( 36 years old ).
ZODIAC: aquarius
HOMETOWN: london, england
BIRTHPLACE: (hell hall) suffolk, england
JOB: fashion designer, heiress
GENDER & PRONOUNS: cis woman & she/her
SEXUAL & ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: fashion and furs idk what to tell u
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single (twice divorced)
physical description.
black and white hair, separated cleanly in the middle. she's sporting a straight bob nowadays, but she was famous for her flyaway hair in her 20s.
5’ 11" (1.6 m) SHE IS TALL
clothing: black, white, red, metallics
the picture of cruella.
she wears a very sleek silhouette. she has a very accentuated waist. silks and satins and high-quality pure cotton and merino wool. her clothes mainly have a black base with red and/or white accents. she’s also known to wear a lot of metallics, always very cool colours.
she wears minimal jewellery when out and about (but will bring in the big things during swanky events). always wearing heels (except when working out, then she wears runners). always with a red lip !! the makeup is immaculate !!
and she never ever hides her black and white hair. maybe she’ll wear a hat or some form of accessory, but you can literally spot her a mile away with her black and white hair.
[ the 'wikipedia page' ]
[ wanted connections. ]
[ the house of de vil. - including a description & jobs ]
after weeks of unwanted anonymity, it was refreshing to finally be recognised — if not also completely suspicious. the girl was fashionable enough. not entirely disgusting look at. cruella looked the blonde little thing up and down, an arched eyebrow the only indication that she was welcome in her space. for now.
“ i’d be surprised if this … ” cruella held her folded pair of de vil sunglasses ( 2018 collection ) over her eyes as she looked around, “ ... amusement park had any standards at all. but when in rome… ” she huffed, turning back to the girl again. “ the name of a place that serves more than tiny cakes and piss-poor coffee would do, little roman. it might even be your lucky day. ”
.
"well," penny said thinking for a moment if any of the eateries were really up to the standard of such a high class designer. "there is carthay.. it's five stars but it isn't really a stop and go for food. it's very fancy." penelope explained.
"mama ode's cafe is very good as well... it might not be as elegant as carthay but the food is outstanding."
cruella rolled her eyes. already well-aware of carthay's existence, she tossed up whether she really wanted to return to it again so soon. if the girl's suggestion didn't satisfy, then she might have to go there after all — it was taking too long to hire a new personal chef after she'd gracefully let the previous one go for not doing her eggs exactly how she wanted them. gracefully and definitely not with a fork-shaped stab mark on their arm.
"mama ode's. charming," she drawled, heaving a dramatic sigh. "well. you're quite a promising one, aren't you?" cruella looked over the woman's attire again. "we'll see if someone in this damn city finally has taste. go," she flittered her fingers forward, gesturing for her to start walking.
It was difficult to resist the urge to smile that suddenly crept over Marie upon hearing Cruella's slight. She had to admit it was clever although completely unwarranted. Dare she say undeserved. She exhaled, fortifying her patience as overzealous captor extended her neck to catch sight of watchful eyes and expressions encircling them.
Shaking her head, Marie measured her words before responding. "Cruella, how does one ignore someone they've never formally met before?" Her eyes narrowed in fierce appraisal as Cruella cut in once more. The words 'I had delivered to your home' caused her forehead to crease. "Was your delivery before or after the dress I was supposed to wear tonight went missing?" Marie managed to interject. "And as for this dress - my dress - looking different, well I haven't the slightest idea what you mean. Could it be that you're mistaken?" Her head dipped to the right, edges of her lips curling further as smirk replaced once placid beam.
The last time she had a painting requested of her, Cruella had grown so impatient with the imperfect way the artist portrayed her that she smashed a wine glass on the bench and cut the painting in half … and cut the artist a bit up too. Remembering this, she gave a light hum with a sigh, as if recalling a pleasant memory, and then finally drew her eyes away from the paintings.
"Oh, for God's sake — I thought I was talking to a big girl," she pouted. "Should we have scheduled for a formal meeting? Shall you bring your mother along with you, with a signed permission slip?"
The mention of the dress she was supposed to wear made Cruella bark out a laugh; starting out as a splutter between her lips before throwing her head back from the mirth of it. "What, that limp thing ? Is it really my fault that it went missing from that dowdy seamstress' hands ? You can never trust the help these days." The seamstress in question being the very same Serena girl she had tried to hire two weeks earlier — well, if the girl was fired, it was good retribution.
But then the attention went back to the altered dress. Cruella's blood curdled just looking at it. She remembered designing this dress like it was yesterday; all the sleeves had been cut off, the signature De Vil angles all adjusted to fit Marie's frame. And … treacherously … it didn't look half-bad.
Cruella pursed her lips as she looked the dress over. "Destroying my art isn't a game you want to play, Miss Second Female Lead. I extended a welcoming hand. I paid for express postage. And this is how you treat me?"
“I’m pleased to hear that.” She said back arching an eyebrow. “If anything was to not draw attention I hope it would be the fashion how disappointing to be noticed for that alone or even first..” she nodded. “It has indeed.. a death I believe previously.”
“Not nearly as exciting. My brother is going to one and I’m incredibly jealous. No I have different plans. “ she started to walk away but clenched her fists and spun around “ I’m not a fan of what you do at all. I find it odd and frankly silly but I have a friend that is well.. very well dressed in fashions terms.. and it’s probably..” she groaned internally. This was painful. “Helpful that I know more. Is there.. a book you recommend on fashion?”
"Fashion is everything." Cruella took out a purse she'd attached to the folds of her skirt, and from the bag she produced a new cigarette. Not even bothering to put it on her cigarette holder, she held it between her fingers as she monologued: "If you think fashion has nothing to do with you, you're a fool." At the mention of a death, she finally brought the cigarette up to her lips and lit it with a lighter, grinning as she replied: "How marvellous. Did they die in the dress or was it an accessory to the crime?" she chuckled at her own joke.
She sat there smoking as the girl walked away and then turned back. Cruella chuckled, smoothing back the white side of her hair. "A book?" she echoed, slightly muffled as she held the cigarette between her lips. "You don't need a book when you're in the presence of Cruella De Vil. How sweet that you want to learn more. I knew I liked you," she said with a sharp glint in her eyes. "Little Miss Murder Garb."
cruella walked up without much introduction, immediately drawn to the dress worn by the woman — like reuniting with an old friend. “oh! you must let me see that dress. very nice, very nice,” she gestured for the woman to twirl. “and where did you get this fabulous old thing?” cruella beamed, clearly anticipating some recognition.
.
mavis was a bit taken aback by the woman but if she learned anything about humans it was that they were blunt. at least most of them were.. but, she turned anyways at the compliment to the dress. she seemed kind even if a bit pushy. maybe she just really like the dress mavis thought, “thank you. i got it at a vintage shop. it wasn’t too much.” mavis said with a smile, “the lady had it marked down... something about the designer being crazy.” she shrugged, “but, i think it’s stunning. i like the gloves.”
about to make some comment about the girl being modest about the high price the dress must have gone for — something cracked behind cruella's eyes at the next thing she said.
CRAZY ?!
and then almost as quickly, the comment about it being 'stunning' was like a healing balm. "oh, you're sweet," she smiled, still eerie. "the gloves are a darling touch. you wear it so well, my heart is simply bleeding from joy," she gave a fake laugh, fluttering her hand near her chest. "tell me, which store was that again?"
Vanellope smiled at the bartender as they passed her the drink. She turned back to the woman, the smile still playing around the corners of her mouth.
"Oh wow," Vanellope breathed, widening her eyes as she looked again over the other's dress. "And how is Elias to your liking so far? I've only been here about two years myself."
She laughed at the idea of a bedazzled firesuit. What a trademark that would be on the circut! Vanellope Von Schweetz, the bedazzled racer.
"Now that would be a statement," Vanellope said aloud, warming to the idea. "Glitter and grease, Vanellope Von Schweetz!" she announced, leaning back and spreading her hands, palms facing out toward the room.
She didn't look away from the smiling little stranger, even as she waited impatiently for her drink. Her manicured nails rapped a rhythm along the countertop as the smile on Cruella's own face became more frozen and eerie by the minute.
"More like a disliking." Then she pulled a face. "Two years," she echoed, as if it was the most nightmareish thing she could think of.
At the sudden laugh, she blinked as if she'd been spit on. Just at that moment, her drink arrived and she practically snatched it from the bartender's hand with a huff, taking two big gulps.
"...poetic," she frowned. And then her eyes flared as the stranger made a big display. Town full of idiots —"Where's your battery pack so I can yank it out, or must you bounce around like this forever?"
👻 ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ─────────── truthfully, freddy would have much rather been doing some researching, making something for mystery inc’s page or anything else that wasn’t a ball. he had lived in elias long enough that he felt as though he had seen them all. the last one being a big too dramatic for his taste but it was the first ball with daphne and shaggy in town so he wasn’t quick to squander that joy. he had wandered off to get himself some refreshments before finding his friends. freddy was enjoying his drink until it suddenly became an ashtray.
the right corner of his mouth dipped into a lopsided frown. “ it’s fine. you don’t have to. ” he insisted. who’s to say that drink wouldn’t have a cigarette in it for garnish. something about the woman didn’t sit well with his spirits. he had been around them enough to know when something was off but he chalked it down to him being uneasy with everyone after the unmasking of his past. “ thank you. custom balmain. ” a piece he had kept from his youth when he allowed daphne to dress him. he saved those extravagant outwear he was shoved into for such events. “ i’m guessing you have a knack for fashion ? ”
" balmain ! oh, a cultured young man, " cruella chuckled through her teeth, looking him up and down once more, but with perhaps more appreciation than before. " knacks are for children. darling, i wield it. i practically own fashion now, " she hummed, taking one last drag from her cigarette before flicking the holder in a way that it just slipped out to land on the bar. " cruella de vil, " the woman winked. " now you must let me order for you, i insist. "
♡ closed starter
for: @xcruelladcvil
event: full moon ball
location: hall of portraits
The sound of hurried heels pitter-pattering upon marble echoed throughout as the pair rounded the corner and entered solitary hallway.
"Cruella, this is all so unnecessary." Marie muttered amid struggling to free her hand from Cruella's firm grasp. "If you wanted to chat we could have moved to the side and simply spoken to one another." She scowled, wiggling her tense fingers. "There was no need to leave the party...or to pull me away so briskly...they'll think of you as rude."
"Spare me the act, darling. No one from the Academy is watching you tonight," Cruella drawled, finally letting go of Marie's hand as she confirmed they were, indeed, alone in the hall. Looking up at all the unfamiliar faces, Cruella was caught for a moment, tilting her head this way and that as if mimicking the way these old grand dames of old posed.
"Nonsense, I wasn't the rude one. How long was I waiting to speak with you? And you kept ignoring me like I was little more than a fly in your midst," she tutted. "But far be it from me to intentionally ruin a dazzling young woman's night. I simply meant to ask you, dear Marie, for it was quite a shock ... the dress I had delivered to your home looks quite different in this light than how it left my atelier," she finally said, with a smile as patient as a predator watching its meal.
Vanellope watched the woman's expression as her bills were swept back into her lap. She caught them, folding them back up slowly before tucking them back into her card holder.
"Alrighty then," she said, "I appreciate that." The woman's inflections were starting to make Vanellope's skin crawl. She checked out the woman's dress. It was... Not Vanellope's style, to say the least. Looking up, she dropped her own sticky sweet smile, leaning her chin on her hand.
"It looks like you're very talented," she replied. She brushed her hands over the dress, suddenly feeling very out of place in the garment.
"I suppose I feel bold. Flouncy might be a better word," Vanellope mused. Then she threw back her head and laughed.
"Ha! I'm really not made for a fancy dress. I'm truly more at home in a firesuit and helmet, doing drifts around tight corners, if you catch my meaning," she chortled, sticking her hands out in front of her and miming turning a steering wheel. The gremlin in Vanellope's heart wanted to see just how long this lady would play along with her antics.
Cruella snapped her fingers for the bartender to come by. "One more of the same for the little one, and a quarantini for me," she snapped, before shooing them away. The smile came back to match the one that appeared on the stranger's. Was she having her on?
"Quite," she said with a prim smile and a nod. "Talented enough to have my own business, you know. Just moved into town," she added with a bounce of her shoulders.
"A firesuit, good heavens," she said with a roll of her eyes, more disgusted than surprised. After Monty McQueen, here was another one. She leaned back in her barstool, already itching for another cigarette. "Don't tell me you're one of those greasy race-car drivers. No wonder you feel so out of place, darling. Perhaps you ought to have bedazzled one of those firesuits and called it a day, hmm?"
“I have seen plenty do things they didn't think they were capable of.” she said back casually. “Not one of my favorites of the family heirlooms but it fit this occasion. I could never consider black dull. Its one of my favorite colors.
I suppose its not the worst way to make a living and it comes with a lot of needles.” she said staring off for a moment. “Anyway all these dresses must be a field day for you. I cant wait to get out of mine.” she said grabbing her coat.
"How morose," Cruella chuckled, her lips curling back into a smile that seemed more like a snarl. "You mustn't misunderstand me, dear, black itself is not dull. But that shade on you is. Clearly, the dress has seen better days," she cooed.
"Indeed. No one could do what I do — not to the same effect, not the same success, not in a million years," she sighed dramatically. She rolled her eyes as a stranger walked past. "Tragic," she murmured, watching them with a frown. Her brow arched as she turned back to the still-faced stranger and saw her take her coat. "Oh, off so soon, are we? Somewhere else better to be? A funeral, perhaps?"
cruella walked up without much introduction, immediately drawn to the dress worn by the woman — like reuniting with an old friend. "oh! you must let me see that dress. very nice, very nice," she gestured for the woman to twirl. "and where did you get this fabulous old thing?" cruella beamed, clearly anticipating some recognition.
Cruella, tall woman that she was, barely swayed when the stranger collided against her — but the puffs of her sleeves were disturbed, which did not sit well with her at all. Even worse, it was a greasy race-car driver.
She had just left the smoking area balcony and as she held her cigarette holder between her teeth, she took out a perfume from her purse and sprayed two clouds at her neck to cover the smoke scent (it did little to cover it), and in retaliation for the bump, she sprayed the man as well. “There, now you’re pardoned. Shall we have some waiter find you a buggy to ride around in so you regain your sense of direction?”
He was used to high society people who thought highly of themselves. He’d kissed up to them enough when he’d needed sponsors but this was new. Monty coughed as she sprayed him, the smell of the perfume wasn’t unpleasant, but the mix of it with the smell of cigarettes definitely wasn’t. Regardless, getting sprayed by someone wasn’t exactly fun.
“Okay, I think I smelled fine before that.” Monty’s usual smile was gone and replaced with an indifferent look. He reminded himself he needed to behave. “Alright, my sense of direction is fine. I did apologize already.”
"It seems those exhaust fumes have affected your senses, you really should have that checked, you know," she said, patting his shoulder. "No one likes a handsome man who can't smell his own stench."
When he apologised, Cruella's smile was patronising. "Oh, that you did. Very charming of you, Mr McQueen. Very well done. Would you like a gold star on your forehead?"
“Silly indeed if you are calling that some sort of accident. A slip on a banana peel seems more clever compared to that.” She sighed but stared unblinking. “Very well.” She said with a huff. “My uncle found it. He’s someone I can stand much more than most. Therefore I took the dress it also saves me from going out to avoid such conversations on frivolous fashion.” Tilting her head she took a sip anyway. “Hmm..” she leaned over the counter eyeing other drinks and settled on snagging a cup of black coffee. She didn’t need to blur any part of her mind tonight, watching some of these people sober minded was far more entertaining.
“Is this how you spend your time critiquing outfits?” She asked looking at the woman’s
Cruella's eyes flashed even as she feigned a pout. "Oh, you couldn't possibly believe I'd do anything so gross on purpose, could you? Come now," she lifted her hand and the bartender came over, waiting for their order.
"Oh, a family heirloom, is it? How sweet. But I must disagree with you on one point, darling, there is nothing frivolous about fashion. Even when one wears the dullest shade of black." When the girl ordered a black coffee, Cruella ordered a martini with two extra olives.
"One might say I make a living out of it," she said, her grin sharp.
Vanellope was enjoying a quiet moment at the bar. Her entrance to the party had been overwhelming, the lights and the colors, the press of bodies, all setting the glitch on edge. The bar felt safe, something to anchor to. Wrapping her hands around the glass, Vanellope was just taking a few moments to breath.
The smell of smoke washed over her. She turned her head slightly, just in time to watch the ember float into her drink.
"Oh, it's okay. Accidents happen!" She said, pushing the drink away. Reaching down, she pulled up the hem of her dress, reaching for the card holder she'd stuffed down her boot before running out of the apartment. Vanellope tugged a few bills out and set them on the counter and let the skirt drop again.
"Just one of the stores at the mall. The color is what really drew me in," she chirped, warming to the conversation.
"Usually I'm all black, all the time, but you've gotta stand out sometimes, right?" She reached up and touched the tiara on her black locks gently.
"A ball under the full moon calls for that extra little flair."
Cruella watched as the scene unfolded. From the card holder in the boot, to the bills on bartop. "No, no, darling." Her nose crinkled, she picked up a tissue and used it to sweep the bills back towards the stranger. "I'll pay for your new drink. Least I could do, really, you must let me get this for you," she insisted, laying the guilt on so thick it was starting to sound ironic.
"Oh, a store. At the mall. How adorable," she flashed a saccharine smile. "I couldn't agree more. The more you stand out, the better. Par example," she said, gesturing at her own dress. "Made it myself. All for that extra little flair, as you say. And ..." Cruella looked them up and down again, trying to find something to say about the dress. "Pink. Always a delectable colour, wouldn't you say? How do you feel in that little dress, hmm? Bold?"
cruella flashed a practiced smile as she walked up to the bar, just returning from the smoking area yet again ( bloody hell, this clean city would be the death of her ). "stunning," she said, chuckling to herself as one of the models she'd hired mere days ago walked by. they wore something from one of her last collections before her return. this ... sweet, childish ball was practically a free runway for the house of de vil and she wasn't about to squander it. her models looked divine.
suddenly interested at the person next to her, she surveyed them for a second before making her move : tapping her cigarette holder so the embers of the dying thing would fall into the person's drink. "oh! silly me. let me buy you a new one. and you can tell me all about where you got ..." she looked their outfit up and down, as if forcing herself to be kind, " that."
