Oliver. King. (cyprian) wrote in repose, @ 2018-07-25 23:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | *log, dietre abendroth, oliver king |
log: dietre & oliver go night painting
Who: Dietre & Oli
What: Painting adventures
Where: Repose diner --> Capital
When: Time fuzzish
Warnings: tbd.
At the diner. Supper time. 8 o'clock. Oliver wasn't waiting inside, but instead could be found sitting in the parking lot. Out there, there were no shiny vinyl seats, just the broken stump of a handicap parking space where he sat with knees pointing sharply North in a pair of old jeans. Oliver really wasn't one for old or jeans, but it would be comfortable for painting... or hopping fences if it came down to that.
He didn't think that it would. Oliver hadn't faced any serious run-ins with the police while tagging underpasses in the city. Not yet anyway. Which wasn't to say that it wouldn't ever happen, but the way he'd heard it from some of the street youth in the Capital, there were just certain parts of the city where the police had a lot more to worry about than an artist making their mark.
Even if his bluejeans were old and paint speckled, the rest of Oliver was shiny and new. From his turquoise tank top down to his hot pink Converse sneakers, with the sweet and tart scent of absinthe all between. While waiting on the appearance of Dietre, Oliver wrapped his bare arms around denim shins, resting his cheek on a kneecap.