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 Posted: Fri Sep 12, 2014 9:43 am
So, he was still slightly concussed a week later, and the fractured ribs were a problem, but that wasn't going to stop him from attending the Rackham Estate's opening. It was to celebrate his work, after all. So he went through the rigamarole of doing his hair, picking out an outfit, getting dressed, all of that. Sometimes--as counterintuitive as he knew it to be--he missed Revmira. She would have already figured all this out. Granted, without her, he wouldn't be in the position of having three broken ribs and a still-healing concussion, but one couldn't regret the way things had gone. Besides. It would look funny to have a Captain dancing attendance on a Lieutenant, and one thing Revmira did not like was looking funny. Irinei supposed no one did... himself included. So he sat through dinner, picking at his food and barely listening to the chatter of the museum's board of directors. Ever so sorry to hear about your accident, some old bat had said. I hope it hasn't soured you on us here in Destiny City too terribly. But dinner went quickly, and then it was just a short taxi ride to the Estate itself, and the grand to-do around the hanging of his work, which was... well, he liked to be praised, but even at the best of times his patience was only so limited. He turned away from the latest idiot art major to try to catch his attention, and scanned the crowd for someone else to talk to. At this point, he wasn't even particularly fussed that it be someone he could bring home; he just wanted an intelligent conversation that wasn't the same three questions over and over again. There was a dark-haired woman off to the side. He'd seen her on-and-off all weekend, quietly gazing out the window generally; her outfit suggested wealth and taste, and she hadn't approached him, so he was curious, now. Was she not an art aficionado? Was she there simply to be seen? Irinei crossed the main gallery space, under a vaulted ceiling original to the 1700s construction of the home, and said, "Pardon me, devoushka. It seems a crime to let someone play wallflower at this sort of event."
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Posted: Fri Sep 12, 2014 12:22 pm
Less than a week of being back in Destiny City, and it seemed like she was already getting tossed into artsy parties. She'd been woken up early the morning after her arrival in Destiny City by her manager being rude and opening the curtains in the room she had selected and tossing a few things at her that he'd picked up for her to wear. Out and about it was to be, then. She wasn't given a schedule, which was a good thing, but she was given a few places that he wanted her seen. Nice public places. Art galleries. The museum. places Jada-the-socialite had been intimately familiar with before she had left town. Places men and women of her social strata would mingle, look pompous and important. Where people of her career path could possibly find their next job. The first thing she had noticed was the total lack of slacks and denim. Skirts it would be, until she had a chance to pick up some things to her own taste. At least she had brought some of her own shoes. With her manager breathing down her neck, Jada had done what she did best. Gotten dressed. Made herself up. Put on her best face, and gone to town. Honestly though, they would have to get her a car if she was going to be here long. The third day of her return led her to an opening of a gallery at the Rackham Estate. They'd mentioned it was a Russian artist, pointed him out briefly. Jada was quite impressed, actually. Still, she found herself wandering more and more towards the window that looked out over the garden. It was lovely out there. She'd have to come back sometime a little earlier in the day than this. "Pardon me, devoushka . It seems a crime to let someone play wallflower at this sort of event." Was that- Russian? Jada tilted her head, spinning on one very high heel and turning her eyes on the person who had spoken. Ah- the artist. She lifted her glass of champagne and gave him a small smile. "It might well be, but Perrier-Jouët is very good company. Are you enjoying your party?"
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Posted: Fri Sep 12, 2014 12:38 pm
She was very well dressed, he noted, now that he was at the proper angle. Not that he'd expected anyone there to be anything less than stunning, because--to be frank, his art tended to appeal to the kind of person who thought, I don't understand it, so it must be brilliant! and the rare few who saw what he did in it. "One of my favorite dance partners, in fact," he said, of the champagne. He'd had a glass of the Belle Epoque Rosé, but the painkillers meant he couldn't overindulge in an attempt to get sent home early. Irinei was unfortunately sober. "As much as I ever do," he said, of the party. It wasn't terrible; the music was quiet and tasteful, the atmosphere was comfortable, cheery, even intimate--he did like that about the old converted-home museums--he just wasn't much for being social. Less so when concussed, but he'd had worse. Much worse. "I wish they had opened the private gardens. They are lovely, and there is a fine collection of Renaissance statuary, for those who care about such things." He preferred more modernist work himself--but, such should be obvious. "I am particularly impressed with their climbing rose trellises. I have never seen quite that color before." He offered a hand to her and said, "Irinei Valentinevich. I have the pleasure of meeting...?"
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Posted: Fri Sep 12, 2014 2:18 pm
One of his favorite dance partners, eh? She inclined her head, mischief crinkling her eyes. "Good to know. I typically prefer something a little less classy than champagne if I'm going to be dancing, but that's just because I have two left feet and need the extra courage." Actually, she was a very good dancer, but there was nothing inherently wrong with making a little joke at her own expense. Taking a sip from her glass, her eyes moved back to the gardens, one leg crossing over the other as she re-positioned herself. "I tend to find them a little boring myself. I enjoy the hors d'oeuvres and champagne, but the majority of the company is either senile or pretentious." And would this particular artist fall into either of those categories, she wondered. "I enjoy gardens. We have one at home, but we've been out of town, and didn't give the gardener proper notice. I'm afraid it has run a little wild." She glanced back to him, to his outstretched hand, and reached out to shake. "Jada Chamberlyn. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Valentinevich." Her lips tripped lightly over his name.
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Posted: Fri Sep 12, 2014 4:18 pm
He cracked a smile at that one, bent at the waist over her hand to kiss her knuckles--it was only polite, in the circles he'd run in, to play at the game of chivalry. Although that had been a jousting code, not even related to the treatment of women except in one codice, and--he was wandering off again. Back on topic. "It is an honor, Miss Chamberlyn. You may call me Irinei." It was a weird American custom, but he wasn't going to dive into Russian names and patrynomics and his actual surname--really he needed to start introducing himself as Irinei Lazarev, but, that was so hard to remember at the best of times. He'd rather not. "There is much beauty in wild things," he said. " Once we were wild. Our greatest mistake is having been tamed." Isadora Duncan--a ballerina, of course, they tended to be dimwits or savants. He wondered if she'd know the quote, but either way, it didn't matter to him. "Perhaps you would like to sneak out there," he said with a gesture towards the gently setting sun and the rose-tinted flowers. "I have a key."
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Posted: Fri Sep 12, 2014 5:25 pm
Ooooh, it had been a long time since such a semi-courtly gesture had been performed over her hand. Manners- something she'd missed. "And you may call me Jada." It was, she decided idly, teh least she could do, if they were to be over with the formal game quickly. Pulling her hand back from him slowly, she dropped her gaze to the glass in her hand, spinning it idly. "I wasn't always one for wild things," she confessed, watching the light glitter off the glass as she spun it in hand. "Books. Music." It would be absolutely stupid to go for a walk at night in Destiny City with a man she didn't know. He could be a Guardian Cat, a Senshi, a Negaverse agent, a common criminal. But more to the point, he was an artist- and the bad publicity of her vanishing (forever) at one of his shows might be a deterrent to someone who was quoting ballerinas. Jada's eyes drifted back out to the plants, and she set her drink down on a table, tucking a curl behind her ear. "What are we waiting for?" She held out her free hand to him, waggling her fingers.
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Posted: Fri Sep 12, 2014 6:34 pm
"That is a shame," he said. "You would look beautiful, wild." Not that she didn't now, but he took her arm in his and led her behind the drapes at the far end of the hall, down the tiny, dim once-servant's stair, and through a locked door to the private gardens. The private gardens were surrounded by a high fence, with wide, clear landscaped spaces that were clearly meant for picnicking or dining. There would be a large reception there in a month, and the rosebushes were already being pruned back; at this late date, the lilacs were gone, but their leaves hung thick and green overhead. "It is very well-manicured," he said. "Beautiful, I suppose. But these, these are my favorite." He turned to point out the roses climbing up the house's brick face, gesturing broadly to indicate the floral swirls. They were clearly less maintained than the rest of the plants, each clipped to antiseptic perfection--not a dead leaf or lily or stem among them. On the trellises, however, there were spots of decay, dead areas. It was, point of fact, wild. Notably, he didn't move to do anything else. "Music can be wild. Books as well. Any human thing, Jada. They are as varied as people."
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Posted: Fri Sep 12, 2014 7:35 pm
She couldn't quite tell if he was flirting or being a gentlemen, but she did like the feeling of being complimented. Jada always had liked flattery- this was no exception to the rule. He took her arm and guided her through a small private passage, and out into the wild. Her nostrils flared with the sweet smell of soil and flowers. Honeysuckle- it was the smell that was missing. She inhaled deeply and sighed softly, feeling the knot in her belly relax. Jada had used to enjoy these parties so much more. Why was she so uncomfortable now? Not just here, in Destiny City, but all around. Maybe she was getting old? "Odd," she admitted to him. "Most people I know wouldn't see these as their favorite." Too natural. Too real. Decay, death, imperfection- things about life they didn't want to acknowledge. She could see the appeal, however. Oh, she might not prefer them to the other plants in the brightness of the full sun, or in another season when something else was in bloom, but... Stepping forward, Jada trailed her fingers lightly over the edges of a leaf. " Music is nothing else but wild sounds civilized into time and tune," she quoted idly, and followed a path of graying leaves a they swirled. "And what kind of variation are you, Irinei?" Her head tilted towards the redhead, curious.
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Posted: Fri Sep 12, 2014 8:28 pm
"Many people are shallow," he said, with a deadpan little shrug. "It is not something to be shamed by." It wasn't a crime to simply like pretty things. There was even something admirable about being openly aesthetic, rather than seeking things for some arbitrary value--he would honestly rather hear that someone didn't understand his painting, but thought it beautiful, than hear that they liked it for some other reason. "It's alright, to hide from things that scare you. Everyone does it. It only lacks--how is it said--sustainability. There is no point to hiding from the world as it is in the long-term." He watched Jada for a long moment, before laughing--a little self-contained chuckle, more than a laugh, and one that made his head hurt. "Perhaps one too over-civilized," he said. Or one so civilized he'd forgotten what it was to just be human. "Please forgive me. I have met Destiny City's senshi menace one too many times, and the resulting concussion runs me at the mouth. That all sounded pretentious, do you not think?" His speech was so stilted, compared to hers. He almost wanted to change that... but he was proud of his homeland, and proud of his experiences. Changing the way he spoke would make it seem like he wasn't.
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Posted: Fri Sep 12, 2014 8:51 pm
Many people are shallow, he said, and Jada wondered if he realized how true his words were. but that it was nothing to be shamed by? She wasn't sure she agreed at all, so she stayed quiet. How much had her shallowness cost herself and others in the long run? How much had her fear of appearances being marred changed her? How much of her moral ground had she given away because of being shallow? On the other hand- she also didn't like the fact he thought it okay to hide. It pricked at her. Because how much was her willingness to hide costing others? How many other people had watched their family members die, that she might have been able to stop if she hadn't gotten tired, drained, afraid? If she hadn't allowed herself to run and hide, tired of standing and fighting? "Are you an artist or a philosopher?" she inquired at last, peering up at him from the corner of an eye. Jada's lips twitched though, at his candid confession, and she dropped her hand from the rose, hissing as she accidentally dragged her hand over a thorn. "I wouldn't say pretentious," she said at last, opening her hand to try and examine the scratch in the fading light. It looked to be a thin line, trailing her left hand from the mound of Venus to the base of her ring finger. Ran afoul of the senshi menace? Her lips pursed. "I'm sorry, it has been a few years since I was in Destiny City. I wasn't aware the vigilantes were still on the loose." she flexed her hand several times, feeling the air blow across the shallow wound, and peering out into the gathering darkness towards the pristine, perfect gardens.
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Posted: Fri Sep 12, 2014 11:19 pm
Oh, Jada was funny. He liked that about her. "Is it too much to ask that I be both," he asked. He crossed the garden to her, and tilted her hand towards the light. She was bleeding. "That will not do," he said, specifically, and he fished in the pocket of his blazer to tug a handkerchief loose. It was a square of plain white linen, unscented, and he tied it carefully around her hand before looking in the same direction as her, towards the gardens. "Would you like to explore, Jada?" He would, honestly speaking. The party inside had been over, as far as he was concerned, from about thirty minutes after the thing had started. He started to head deeper into the gardens, where the only light came from the lighted windows. "I suppose I was," he told her. "It was not hidden from applicants to the residency, of course. I did not expect to meet it so thoroughly, or so often." Irinei touched his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. "Two and a half weeks, three encounters. Perhaps I am cursed, yes?" He smiled at her, dropping his hands. "You are a native? Perhaps you could show me around. My friends in the Russian... mm... way? Do not often suggest highlights that I should be interested in." Irinei gestured towards the banks of windows. "You have seen my work. What do you think I should do?"
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Posted: Sat Sep 13, 2014 9:45 am
Jada gave a very unlady-like snort of laughter, her unwounded hand going to cover her mouth. "Well, being both would make you either too good to be true, or too impossible to live a long and healthy life." She let him tilt her hand and peer at it in the fading light, her lips still quirked. "It is just a scratch," she told him as he pulled out a handkerchief, but he pressed it to the palm anyway and tied it neatly. "Thank you." It was a minor act of chivalry that she had found precious little of in the American men she'd dated. Alas. "I thought we'd come out here to explore," she tossed at him playfully, and moved after him as he headed deeper into the gardens, "It would be a shame to be denied the pleasure." Not that they would be able to see well, but soon they would adjust. Not like being henshined, when the world had become sharper- but they would adjust. The thought that he was being attacked by more Negaversers pretending to be Senshi, however, was a little horrifying. (And why would it be anything else? The Senshi only attacked Negaverse agents and Youma, didn't they? Or had they progressed to a genuine terrorist threat in her absence?) She tried to keep the troubled look off her face, and was glad for the darkness. "Hardly cursed," she assured him, "Think of this as a crash course in Destiny City Safety. Rule 1: Don't be out alone at night." Sometimes, though, even three weren't enough. She could vividly remember her Awakening, where two of her friends had been killed... And that had only been the start. "I've been gone almost two years," she admitted to him, "But I would be happy to see what I can do you for." Chrissakes, Jada. She glanced back towards the lit windows, contemplating. "Highlights, hmm?" She had seen his art, and had wondered if he had painted it for himself, or because someone had told him to paint it. "I think..." she said at last, "You should tell me what you'd like to see, and I make it happen. Your art was..." She pursed her lips, seeking the right word. " Complicated." She spun, moving over to one of the statuettes and peering at it in the darkness, idly wondering if it would be her luck that these would come to life and give the poor man another concussion.
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Posted: Sat Sep 13, 2014 10:02 am
"Well," said Irinei, "We shall see." He agreed: too impossible to live a long and healthy life did describe him fairly well. There was something about being recruited to a mystical mafiya apparently driven to revenge a broken betrothal contract from a thousand years ago that seemed to indicate impossibility, to him. Not to the same degree as senshi, or knights, who apparently were just naturally as ******** up as he was artificially, but a degree nonetheless. He laughed, and smiled as they followed the path. His eyes did adjust rather quickly to the darkness; he'd always had good night vision. Jana, too. Babylon alluded to the possibility that Irinei, uncorrupted, would be a knight, but Irinei was not so sure. Still, sometimes he wondered. Could the little odd things, the special things, just be symptoms of an ancient bloodline trying to resurface?... Of course not. Ridiculous. He shook his head, to clear it, and settled himself on one of the benches near a statue. "Still more experience than I could boast," he said. "I visited my family here, once, long ago. But not since." And the face of the city had changed, since then. "I enjoy libraries," he said. "Gardens. Music. I am bored of museums, though. I have worked in them for all my life." He looked at her for a moment, and something in the lighting struck him as familiar. "Where have I seen you before," he marveled. "Not in person, surely, or I would have known you on sight." But perhaps through a photograph?
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Posted: Sat Sep 13, 2014 12:46 pm
Behind her Jada could hear Irinei settling himself down onto a bench, and she smiled. "Well, I suppose you are right in that regard," she agreed easily, rising and turning to face him. "I was born in Destiny City, so I suppose I am a bit of the curve," she allowed. "My mother's paternal side of the family had been here for some time." Libraries and Gardens, she might as well invite him over to her house, once they ahd the gardens repaired. but the library- the library was full of musty old tomes she and her family had collected, and was spotless. As for the garden- well. He had said he liked wild things. Still, inviting someone to her home turf she barely knew was a little out of place for her- but possible. "No museums," she agreed easily. "Music, there are several options. We have a lovely concert venue in town. No Carnegie Hall, but the acoustics and carvings are brilliant. If your palate is a little less formal, I'm sure that there are several places with amateur nights." She peered into the darkness, making out the shapes of other statues further from the house. Where they were, just outside the glow of the lights, was as far as they would go if they were wise. "Where have you seen me?" She repeated his question back to him, surprised. "Well, that depends. How much do you like fashion, or modern art?"
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 12:03 am
So specific! He admired that in a person, he really did. It was, he assumed, part of his Russian heritage--didn't he introduce himself with his patronymic? He smiled and leaned forward, still trying to face her familiar face. It wasn't exactly blase, or common; those eyes he felt like he would remember, that almost luminous purple. "I shall look into those," he told her, "Do you happen to know the name?" Irinei rested his chin on a fist, and continued, " Devoushka. I am a European painter. Of course I like fashion and modern art." She had to be joking, right? He supposed it was a stereotype, but it was an honest one; he did like being able to assume. It was good to be able to reliably avoid, well, sports. Wasn't fond of them. But the thought also reminded him: "Ah, you are a model," he said. "Men pay you to take photographs."
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