InsaneJournal

Tweak says, ""Duh, like a fake ID.""

Oliver. King. (cyprian) wrote in bellumlogs,
@ 2009-12-03 21:43:00

Entry tags:

dorian gray

Who: Trent & Anne
What: A first meeting, something about Christmas decorations.
Where: The lobby.
When: Late afternoon/Early evening?
Warnings: None.

The day hadn't been a very productive one, and Trenton was returning to Bellum a little early for a change. The day had consisted of a brief perusal of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and an unfortunate brunch at the Biltmore that ended with a security escort off the premises. Two cappuccinos and a handful of valium later, and our boy had arrived.

An Opera pamphlet folded in one hand, slapping a drum solo concerto against the front of his leg. Strolling into the lobby like he owned it, toetapping to his own little beat as he strolled and waltzed across the tiled entrance. Bopping along to some unheard music, a trait that only those who knew him best would attribute to the fact that he'd swallowed a small handful of pills on the cab ride over. Old habits die hard, but Trent was looking put together at least! Working that nouveau professional angle with a white-cuffed blazer and printed silk tie. A regular bird of prey with that slightly overgrown mop of dark hair.

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cyprian
2009-12-04 06:57 am UTC (link)

How could he have missed the festive set-up she had going there? With the table and the ornaments, her and charming and color coordinated ensemble. It was like wandering onto the vision of a peppermint candy princess. Red and white with bows and snowflakes. Trent was already giving her a curious eye when her greeting speared him. Like a warm knife, it flayed a casual smile onto his face. The kind of grin that could heal the sick with it's sincerity.

"Heeeey." Shifting the direction of designer slacked hips and steering his way toward her table. Briefly acknowledging the Christmas Fund sign with an inquisitive quirk of his brow.

"How'd you get stuck with this job?" How could anyone be talked into this costume gig?

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justlikelife
2009-12-04 07:12 am UTC (link)

This new victim--charitable donor--might be an easy sell, if she could keep her eyes in her head while he was standing there. Anne blinked up at him as he came out of the cold, eyes drawn immediately to the shape of his eyes and the way they set deep in the lines of his expression. His countenance was a little odd, a little dark, but unique in shape. Stunning, in its way, an aesthetic impact she practically felt to her bones. Slightly shell-shocked, she blinked again.

"I... volunteered." She smiled her trusty, constructed smile. Her hands had paused in the task at hand, which was, if the several round examples on the table at her elbow was any indication, yet another paper ornament. However, this one was still flat, a many-sided polygon with interlocking folds, and her fingers moved gently over the surface as she spoke. "One of my friends and I decided the building needed a little cheering up." Because the doom and gloom was starting to become contagious.

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cyprian
2009-12-04 07:30 am UTC (link)

If Trenton took notice of the fact that the girl looked as if she'd taken a sledgehammer between the eyes for a brief moment, it didn't show. He mossied up to her table, folding that Opera pamphlet and shoving it into a pocket. Thumbs hooking, fingers splaying over the front of slacks that cost more than some people's lives.

"Don't get my wrong, I agree. Full-tilt." His smile came easy. Like his words, his charm, his excuses.

"It's just that I wouldn't wish this gig on anybody. The people in this building don't exactly seem like.. the holiday type." Imbibed with a penchant for the dramatic, Trent reached out briefly to nudge one of those interesting little ornaments with his finger. Focus eventually wavering back to the girl with the bucket.

"How close are we to our goal?" Trent might have to be resuscitated if this girl actually raised more than $20. In this building? A goddamn miracle would have been not getting glared at every five minutes.

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justlikelife
2009-12-04 07:54 am UTC (link)

The little round ball, which was impressive, if you can imagine folding a sheet of paper to create a ball without crumpling it or cutting it, rolled merrily along the table top into Anne's lap, where she paused to retrieve it. "They just need reminding," Anne replied, with her usual deadpan expression, which looked just like her friendly one and just like her withdrawn one. While hitches in her conversation might be easy to read, and exceptions might be made for... certain kinds of people, her expressions generally were not transparent.

They both leaned forward a little to look inside the bucket. A five dollar bill (that Anne had contributed herself), and sixty-seven cents, which had been in the bucket before she'd appropriated it for her cause. "I just sat down an hour or so ago," she explained.

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	cyprian 2009-12-04 08:15 am UTC (link)
	"Well, you're almost there." Trent ran his hand across the provoking cut of his jaw, finding it unlikely that five bucks and some change was anywhere near what would be needed for a Christmas tree. But complimenting her on her endeavors, none the less. "I'm Trenton." Extending his hand across the table in introduction. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

justlikelife
2009-12-04 08:21 am UTC (link)

She put her hand in his, rather than taking his into her own. Anne had fine-boned hands, put together delicate and long while the rest of her was comfort and curves. She smiled up at him as her grip playfully matched his, and it was even a real smile, a little smaller than the others but no doubt more pleasant. "I'm Anne. Have you been out attending early Christmas parties, Trenton?" The dark eyes slid down the suit and back up again.

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cyprian
2009-12-04 08:31 am UTC (link)

"Anne."

Her hand really was something else, avian bones under velveteen. When he ran his thumb over one of her knuckles, it was with investigation, not part of the usual seductive spiel. She had artisan hands, and Trenton drew back from the brief shake with a note of reluctance. Green eyes marching once more to the drumbeat of her eyes, which were scoping out his suit.

"What? Ha, no no. No Christmas parties yet" Just a shake of the head to confirm it.

"And good thing, I think I need a couple of weeks to prep myself for all that eggnog and gingerbread."

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	justlikelife 2009-12-05 01:52 am UTC (link)
	The extended contact was just an excuse for Anne to stare at him a little more. She couldn't explain what was so mesmerizing about the way he looked at her, but it drove almost every other thought from her head; all she could think was how to reproduce it. Blinking again into coherency, she said, "With a lot of pepto-bismol?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

cyprian
2009-12-05 06:37 am UTC (link)

"The pink stuff?" His smile flashed again, habitual in the way his teeth drew tight on the seam of his lip. Amused, but not at her expense. Enjoying this fresh spill of conversation, of unexpected company.

"Can't stand the taste." Spoken in a fashion that said he couldn't imagine anyone who actually did. In time, his curiosity kept returning to the colorful paper she'd been working with. The ornaments that had obviously been created by her own interesting, fascinating, wonderful hands.

"I've never seen anything like them."

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justlikelife
2009-12-05 05:34 pm UTC (link)

Maybe halfway between the smile and speech. The muscles around his eyes moved and made them glint in the most interesting way. A little bit of challenge, a give-it-all-I-can-take-it sort of look. Typically, Anne didn't do portraiture; she was satisfied with her shapes and her figurines, which provided endless implication and replication of life and thought without needing a human face to express them. However, she had done one or two works in a mosaic type fashion, using small, irregular pieces of paper of varying shapes. The result often became rather abstract, but the reception had been good.

Perhaps she would try again.

Smiling, she lifted the flat piece she was working on, put her mouth against it, and blew. The paper popped out into three dimensions, acquiring the interwoven roundness of the others on the table. She put it down amongst its brethren, rolled it a little with one finger. "They're ornaments for the tree."

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cyprian
2009-12-05 08:20 pm UTC (link)

Suitably impressed, Trenton leaned closer to the magic trick she was performing. Brows twitching when she exhaled into the papery orb and inflated it. He couldn't imagine expending all of the time and focus that it would take to make an entire tree's worth of ornaments. Although Anne seemed to genuinely enjoy it.

"Impressive." Murmured as an afterthought to her art as the front doors of the lobby sounded with the coming scuffle of feet. A pair of small children herded by their exhausted looking mother, who had eyes only for the elevator.

"Good luck, Anne." Trent saluted her over the heads of the children as they rushed up to the table excitedly, chattering like rabid doves with the idea of a Christmas tree. And in the subtle chaos, Trenton untucked a pair of hundred dollar bills from his blazer pocket, and dropped them in amongst the change on his way to the elevator. Holding the door open for the frantic young mother as her children caught up, and winking to Anne as the doors hissed closed before him.

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