Lo isn't impressed. (thedemonlo) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-03-14 20:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, aveline de grandpre, lo |
Who: Lo and Aveline.
What: Discussing contract terms.
When: 3/12.
Where: Lo's office, Miami.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for swearing.
Status: Complete!
Aveline was nervous, but mostly excited. She was dressed to the nines, figuring she ought to look the part of a model if she was going to be one. Seth had said that Lo was kind, and he’d certainly seemed it on the phone, but still. This was definitely far outside her comfort zone.
She was now sitting in the outer office, legs crossed, fiddling with the end of her braid. The secretary had been polite, and she was looking calm, hopefully. If this went bad, well, Lucien had told her she still had a job with him.
Soon the doors to the office opened, the impressive wood looking quite heavy. Lo straightened his purple tie and stuck his head out into the waiting room. “Ms. de Grandpré? Hi, I’m Lo.” He offered her his hand, and shook it gently. “Please, come in. Do you mind dogs?”
Aveline blinked - he was much taller than she’d expected, as well as lighter (ginger?), but he did seem nice. “Hello. You may call me Aveline, if you want. But you pronounce my last name well.” She managed a small smile. “I don’t mind dogs at all unless they drool overmuch. Do you have any here?” That was unusual, but somehow endearing.
“Two, actually. We’re all joined at the hip.” Once Aveline was in the office, she’d be able to see the large dog bed with the tiny teacup Yorkie and papillion snuggling and snorting in the middle of it. “The Yorkie with the bow is Lucy. The one with the big ears and tongue hanging out is Colin. He had all of his teeth pulled at the shelter, so he’s kind of on permaderp. Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?” Lo was immediately trying to think of campaigns he could get her. Seth had been right; she was stunning.
Lo led her into the office, and Aveline immediately saw the little dogs. “Oh, they’re sweet.” She laughed, leaning over and holding out a hand for them to sniff. “Um. Some water would be nice, thank you. I appreciate your seeing me.”
“Of course.” He had a small bar set up, complete with mini fridge. Pulling out a bottle of water for her, he poured it into a glass and then handed it over. “Seth’s a friend first, then a client. I trust her judgement.”
Aveline took the glass, smiling shyly. “Thank you. I hope it isn’t a problem that sometimes I don’t entirely think in English? Like when Mi - er, Seth came in to my workplace before and just dropped this on me, I was so shocked I spat out ‘Ou gen fè pipi moute janm mwen yo ak di m 'lapli ap tonbe!’ which means something very impolite in Creole.” Basically, it meant ‘You’re pissing up my leg and telling me it’s raining’, but Lo didn’t need to know that.
The gift of tongues made Lo’s life more interesting regularly. “I”m first gen Romanian, so I understand how that goes. But no, Seth always means what she says, she wouldn’t have fibbed. Especially not to a stranger.”
“I’m just ... glad.” Aveline blushed, looking away. “I am paying my way through school, and I had to take the only job I could get that gives good money. Now I may be able to look my mother in the eye without shame.” She smiled.
“I hope that you can,” Lo smiled. He figured, from that statement, that she wouldn’t want to be a lingerie model like Seth. Besides, Aveline was a different kind of beauty. “There’s a few clients that I’m thinking of for you - mostly magazines - but I don’t think I’ll put you out there for lingerie modelling or anything like that. Not until you’re comfortable with it, if you ever are.”
“I might be okay with something tame.” Aveline said. “I mean, I’m not a prude” - she blushed - “but I do come from a very Catholic family. I have nuns in my family tree.” She laughed a little, taking a sip of water. “I was born here, but the family is Haitian. French, Creole, and I pick up Spanish living in Miami. English is my fourth language.”
“Oh, I’m first gen Romanian,” he grinned. “I was raised Catholic too.” He smiled and leaned back. “I’m fairly lapsed - I live with a guy - but it took me a while to get to a point where I was comfortable with my sexuality.”
“I would have thought Orthodox, if you are Romanian.” Aveline uncrossed and recrossed her legs. “My mother is progressive enough - we lived in Little Haiti, and you’d see the gay couples and drag queens around - but she and my brothers always looked out for me, and told me to act like a lady. Some of it stuck.”
Lo nodded. “It’s good to have someone like that watching over you. We’ll try to do things that she’ll like,” he beamed. “What’s your class schedule like? I want to make sure we don’t interfere with that.”
“This upcoming semester it is lighter - I took five in the fall so I could take fewer in the spring.” Aveline reflected briefly on how lucky that had been! “There is something I do want to ask you about, though. If you don’t object.” She wanted to know about him and this county. Who knew where her dreams might head?
“Of course, ask away.” He smiled, taking a sip of his own water. He liked their relationship already.
“This place. I hear so much about dreams.” Aveline began, hoping that he’d seen or heard, that he wouldn’t think she was mad. “Do you have them? Or do you know people who do?”
He looked down and swallowed hard. “I do. Most of the people I know do. I actually can do ... things, because of them. You’re religious, so I - I dream I’m a demon. But a really bad one, one who’s exiled because he fell in love with a human. I’d never hurt anyone.” It came out in an unprofessional tangle.
Aveline blinked, not having expected that. “Ou se yon move lespri sou li?” He was a demon? “I didn’t think that ... I mean. I don’t hold it against you.” Maybe it was insane, but she somehow trusted him. Somehow she didn’t think he was going to try and eat her soul.
She looked down, wetting her lips. “I wanted to tell you about mine.”
“Of course. ... would you like to go get some food? Think of the best place you’ve ever eaten, we’ll go there.” He smiled and leaned back. “My treat. The only demonic perk I really can’t live without now is teleporting. Let me send the furkids back home, okay?” He walked over to scoop up the dogs, and in the blink of an eye was gone, then back again.
Aveline nodded, though she did jump when he vanished. And jumped again when he reappeared. “M’sorry,” she murmured. She didn’t want him to feel bad - she was how she was, and he was how he was. “Um. I like a lot of foods. Anything spicy, and I’m usually happy.”
Lo thought to himself, then nodded. “All right, well, let’s go to Miami. I’m sure you can find something, right?” He smiled and offered her his arm.
“Oh, yes.” Miami was home, after all - and honestly, teleportation didn’t sound bad. It sounded intimidating, but it would have been rude to refuse. And she didn’t like to be rude.
She took his arm, not entirely sure what to expect. “How does this work?”
“It’s actually pretty gentle - you shouldn’t have any stomach upset or anything like that, but you’ll notice some wind. Maybe a little sulfur smell ‘cause of the whole demon thing, for which I apologize.” And suddenly, within seconds, they were in an alley in Miami, the smell of pork and spice in the air.
Aveline was about to ask another question, but then they were home, and she felt dizzy, but mostly astonished. “Manman nan Bondye!” she exclaimed, laughing, looking around. “That’s ... amazing.” A little frightening, but mostly amazing. She hadn’t felt touched by hell. She was getting more comfortable.
“Okay, so do you notice any good places to eat? Or do you want anything further away? I’m at your disposal.” He gave her a polite bow, beaming. He liked being able to help her.
“I know a great place.” Aveline pointed him out to the main road. “You’ve placed us close to Little Haiti, actually; we could stop and see my mother if we wanted.” There was no need, but the point was made. “Have you ever eaten Caribbean? Haitian food is excellent and not extremely spicy.” At least, she didn’t think so, but maybe a gringo would.
“I haven’t, but I’m game for anything.” Lo practically lived on Thai food, so he figured he’d be okay with Haitian food. Right?
Aveline led him down the block toward Chef Creole, a place she’d frequented for years. “I have cash, or if you do - they don’t take any cards here. But you’ll love the food.” She liked the atmosphere, and she enjoyed showing people her home and her culture. She walked in, greeting the server in Creole, asking for a table for two. The outside was humble, but the inside was homey.
“Let me go grab some,” Lo said, disappearing for about thirty seconds before reappearing. “Okay, set.” He smiled at the server as well, thanking him in same said language once they were settled. “Gift of tongues,” he murmured when they were out of earshot.
Aveline had read her Bible, and couldn’t help but feel a little alarmed, though she smiled. “It must come in handy. Oh, mierda.” She just remembered some of the Creole phrases she’d used in Lo’s office. “I promise, I don’t have a toilet mouth normally.”
“It does, and don’t worry about it. I have a toilet mouth whenever I deal with certain people.” Usually disrespectful assholes, but that was just Lo’s coping mechanism.
“That’s fine, I just usually try not to. Mama whispers in my ear.” Aveline grinned. “Just don’t hold my Creole against me; it’s usually the language I can swear in that no one understands.” She opened the menu, inwardly gleeing when she saw the griot. “My favourite things are all here.”
Lo examined the menu, deciding he’d order whatever she got since she probably knew what would be best there. Besides, doing as the locals did had always served him well.
Aveline felt more at her ease once she’d been able to order a touch of home. “I am sorry,” she said again. “For doubting you, I mean. Just, it’s all happening very fast. And then my own dreams get in the way.”
Lo shook his head. “It’s understandable. I think we all have our own expectations for what’s going to happen in our careers and lives.” He rubbed his palms together. “I am, however, ridiculously excited for this food.”
“Good.” Aveline smiled, sitting back. “I hope you like it.” She had to be curious, though, about his statement. “What expectations did you have for yourself?”
“I never thought I’d get into PR or anything as a kid. I wanted to do legitimate law as a kid. I wanted to save the world,” he smiled. He still did, but he knew he never would. The world was a bit too big to save all on his lonesome.
Aveline smiled, looking down. “You’d like my dreams,” she said. “I dream that I am an Assassin. Fighting against the Templar Order to preserve free will in the world.” It sounded absolutely crazy, but it was what she’d dealt with.
That made Lo grin. “Has any of the physical stuff bled over? I woke up one day and I could fight. Which was weird, but I can defend my boyfriend that way, so that’s good.”
“No. Not ... yet.” She had to face facts and admit that it probably would. “I learn how to fight from a mentor called Agaté - he lives in the swamps around New Orleans. In 1760.”
The not-ginger blinked. “That’s awesome! I wish I was from a historical period, but nope. The mid 1990s. Well. That’s when I leave Hell in my dreams and go falling in love with a human.” Sometimes Lo was paranoid that Justin would show up.
“I dream I am born in New Orleans, to a white man and a placée. Do you know what that is?” Aveline asked. “I and Maman are gens de couleur libre, but it is still a strange life.”
“I didn’t even know that was a thing. That’s good, though. I swear, if I could’ve gone topside back then in ... dunno, Georgia or something? So much murder.” Lo shuddered. He couldn’t handle racism in 2014, so in the 1760s, he’d have fucking snapped.
“It does not seem very terrible in New Orleans, in truth - I think it’s because the mere fact that gens de couleur libre exist makes them think differently.” Aveline shrugged. The server came over, and Aveline smiled, ordering griot and iced tea, and sighing in sheer happiness at the thought; she’d missed hometown food.
“I would hope so. People seem to be ignorant up until they grow fond of someone from the people they’re oppressing.” He wrinkled his nose, but once the food arrived, his face lit up. “Oh, god, is that pork? Thank goodness.” His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply.
“That’s what griot is primarily, yes.” Aveline grinned. “You will taste some salt and some sour. It’s my absolute favourite food.”
He waited for her to take the first bite, polite as ever, but eventually he took a bite. His eyes closed in contentment, and he made a wholly undignified noise. “I love you,” he murmured, mouth full.
She couldn’t help but giggle. “I have had marriage proposals after taking men for Haitian food. Little do they know I am a very bad cook.”
“It’s the salty sour thing,” Lo sighed, eyes closed. “And I can’t propose. My boyfriend would feel kind of put out.”
“This is entirely fair. And it’s sour orange juice, that is the secret.” Aveline replied, taking a bite of hers. She purred. “This is very good, even by my standards.” It felt better, somehow, the more she talked to him. He was doing a good job of setting her at her ease.
Lo’s eyebrows raised. “Huh. That’s something I wouldn’t even have considered, but it completely makes it. It’s sort of the ceviche principle, I guess.” He smiled, having a nice time. He liked to work with clients whose company he enjoyed.
“I think so, yes.” Aveline decided to be honest. “Thank you for this. I am not so scared now.” It meant a lot that he’d taken time to reassure her.
“Of course. This is a partnership, really. I work for you, yeah, but it’s your job I’m working to help. So I want to make sure I know what you want, what kind of person you are. Otherwise I’ll book you jobs you hate, and then that makes us both sad.” Lo smiled and took a sip of his water. “This is really good, but it could be a little more spicy.”
“Try the red pepper.” Aveline pointed to a jar on the table. “Um.” She thought. “Really, the only thing I can say I completely refuse is for places like Abercrombie & Fitch - they are rude to people, and I can find pay without working for rude people.”
Lo sprinkled a generous amount onto his food, then he wrinkled his nose at her mention of the company. “I won’t work with them anyway, they’ve lost half of their stock value in the last year. Fleeing the sinking ship before anyone else knows, that’s how I do.” He winked and then tried another bite. “Umpf.”
“Better?” Aveline grinned. “It looks it. And other than companies like that, I am flexible. I would say nothing very pornographic, but I imagine that if you deal with Miss Balmore and that type, your clients are too classy for really inappropriate things.” At least, she would like to be.
“Well, I’ll always be sure to make sure you end up with the final say on what you do. I just put your name out there and reel in the jobs. You tell me if you want to throw it back or keep it.” Lo often thought of his job as fishing, as making sure the people he employed stayed fat and happy.
“I will hold you to it, and I thank you for it.” Aveline raised her glass in a polite toast. She was finally starting to feel like this could work out.