Hayden Weisz (likealexander) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2011-02-22 22:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | lyra belacqua, ozymandias |
Who: Hayden and Frey
What: Hayden needs art. Frey just might be able to get it. (No, there's really no clever way to put that without it sounding kind of dirty. I tried.)
When: Wednesday morning. Bright and early (what can I say, Hayden's a morning person)
Where: Frey's Art Gallery. Whatever it's actually called.
Warnings: Hayden manipulates, Frey lies. But if you know anything about these two you knew that already.
Hayden didn't make a habit of coveting. He really didn't; it wasn't in keeping with the image he cultivated, that of the selfless Champion of the Misfortuned. Yes, he tended to pursue the things he wanted singlemindedly, but they were usually business-related. Clients, research projects still in development, things that Mattered. Rarely personal pursuits. It was difficult to be taken seriously in a role such as his if you went around pitching a fit over every little thing that sparked your interest.
However, in this instance, he could make an exception.
He'd seen it in a museum once, a good-sized piece by an artist who wasn't particularly well known but had a loyal following amongst the art community nonetheless. He'd thought little of it since the initial observation that he rather liked it, and it was only years later that it developed into something greater. He'd glimpsed it in one of his magazines, Forbes or something similar, and since then had decided that it would be the perfect addition to his office. Three years and it still wasn't furnished entirely to his liking, there was something missing...and this was it. It was simple. He needed it.
Past experience had told him there was really only one place he trusted enough to find it for him, and so it was that he found himself at the place, almost before it was open for the day. The early bird catches the worm and all that, and he had a busy day ahead of him in any event. He couldn't afford to waste time. A quick look around the place located the proprietor, and he strode over with all the confidence born of a man who had never known any different. The smile was dazzling, if edged in ice, the accompanying tone that of an old friend. "Mister Abraham, just the man I wanted to see. Business is well, I assume?"