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 Posted: Fri Apr 03, 2015 10:45 pm
Most attempts at employment urged him toward the university, it seemed, as the hunter now traveled on foot back toward campus. The subway let off minutes from the campus grounds, which allowed Shale a brisk walk between gentrified buildings before he crossed into the more eccentric portions of town. More coffee shops sprung up in the area, each fostering free WiFi, and each sporting late hours for the studious types that required caffeine fixes to last through the night. The buildings themselves looked power washed and well-manicured next to what he remembered of the abandoned maintenance stretches in the older, walled off portions of track. And with the surfeit of college students around his age that brandished their piercings and tattoos like milestones, Shale blended in well enough.
Dressed in a zippered sleeveless hoodie and secondhand jeans, Shale looked no fashionista - but his aesthetic brought enough personality into the look that he rather liked the outerwear despite his natural aversion for jeans. He did, however, score several second glances from passersby due to the facial tattoo that marked him so unemployable.
Inwardly he considered how he might feel lying naked in front of a class of thirty students, but he found no reason to loathe or fear it. He was, in that instance, purely a practice body for them to train their eyes to see what is. Lying still for such lengths of time offered boons for him, as well - the time could easily be spent in deep meditation, and conditioning his body to withstand the pose for such a stretch promised further toning. However, he wasn't certain what body types they were looking for, or whether tattoos of any kind would be allowed for replication purposes. When considering the ancient greco-roman ideal for the aesthetic man, Shale knew he didn't match up.
Those thoughts followed him while he waited for a collection of students to exit the elevator, leaving only him and one other individual to enter it. Shale took no notice of the man beyond his impossibly long braid that threatened to swipe at the floor with each step he took. Instead he diverted his gaze to the collection of buttons sitting dark against the reflective metal surface, and leaned against the bar with hands in hoodie pockets.
"Three, please," he ventured in culturally acceptable phrasing. The other man stood closest to the controls, and crossing paths seemed more culturally unacceptable compared to troubling the man for pressing a button. Inwardly he cursed the idiosyncrasies of Destiny City and its asinine customs. At what point would he be able to assert himself without causing someone to blanch in perceived hurt?
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Posted: Sun Apr 05, 2015 11:01 pm
Rhys was still reeling from the entire...experience that had been becoming Ploutonion. He had very, very seriously considered not returning to classes, but that was ridiculous, avoiding his life because he had...sort of acquired a second one was stupid. And it wasn't as if he could explain why he had no desire to go to classes, because there had been no physical signs of what had happened to him and he would tell his parents that he was a magical warrior equipped with a pomegranate over his own corpse.
So he was back on campus, and trying to pretend that everything was normal even though it was pretty much the opposite. Being there alone helped settle him, going through the routine of classes and breaks for food and studying and schoolwork. Particularly when he was fretting over the his elective art class, which fortunately was in the study of film and not an actual drawing-related class.
He hadn't even really noticed that there was someone else getting into the elevator until it was requested that he press a button.
"Of course," he said, tapping it - his destination floor anyway, which made the whole thing more convenient. He was prepared to spend the elevator ride in customary semi-awkward silence, going over some notes, but there was no not taking notice of the rather dramatic facial tattoo the other man sported. It was, frankly, more interesting than his own handwriting.
"Do you go to school here? That probably seems like a ridiculous question, but I feel like I'd remember seeing someone so handsome around campus before."Strickenized i would apologize for rhys kind of flirting with shale but i think we both know how not sorry i am
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Posted: Sun Apr 05, 2015 11:54 pm
His attention fell on the panel opposite him - clear of most interesting phenomena save for the reflection looking back at him. Shale's own face regarded himself in equal boredom before both sets of eyes looked heavenward, toward the numbers painted in cold blue LED. L, it said initially, and only after the sudden lurch that started their slow ascent did he register something more than platitude tossed his way. The tone sounded practiced.
And then he recognized the words.
His gaze lighted on the other man, who he was now truly seeing. His ice gaze afforded only the superficial, where his attentions simply slid over the top of him. Nothing remarkable - all abstract information assembled into one warm, living, breathing package. But now Shale understood the word - person - and how it correlated to what was effectively a wraith passing in the midst of a spring day. This was no dance of two leaves passing in a boisterous wind, as most interactions played out. No, this one intended to make an impression, and this one understood how to do it.
Purple eyes, but not just purple. This was a purple intended to resemble polished amethyst, but with a richer tone that suggested depth to the gem's placid color. Glasses, either real or absent prescription, he couldn't tell. It could be either. His hair crawled toward his back in its own contained servitude, a rope absent its noose. And with the dash of darkened flecks across his face, Shale guessed that the man never saw much sun. And what does that say of you.
Do I remember how to hunt a snake? If all things are repurposed, then...
"No," he answered simply. He opened his palm toward his face, a private gesture, to look upon the white skull tattooed over taut skin. He closed his fingers around it afterward. "I don't take classes here. I model for the art students. You're not one of them, if recollection holds." Another glance was spared toward the student before his attention returned to his distorted visage in the brushed steel panel. Snakes are intelligent creatures. Are you Trimeresurus trigonocephalus? Would you focus so intently on your prey that your infrared pits won't tell you when you're overheating?
What a preposterous idea. We are but strangers passing on a whim. Leave your instincts for another day, Shale.
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Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2015 12:51 pm
Rhys laughed, a little. "No, I'm not an art student. Or, not that sort of art student," he said. "Though I certainly wouldn't mind seeing you model." Oops, that was probably inappropriate, not that he was particularly fussed right then. Flirtation with someone he wasn't particularly likely to see again was a fun, easy thing, and if he was told to screw off, then so be it, he wasn't exactly unfamiliar with rejection.
"I'm studying theater," he clarified, and then he offered a hand. "Rhys." It was a simple, polite introduction, but it was paired with a smile that was definitely on the side of "charming and flirtatious." Projecting a particular image of himself was practically Rhys's specialty, and right then he was projecting a hell of a lot of confidence he didn't have. The more he focused on this, the less he was focusing on everything else he was worrying about, and that was all for the better.
"Have you lived in the city long? I'm a transplant from London, myself," and then he laughed a little, again, "if the accent didn't give that away."
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Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2015 8:49 pm
I don't know how modeling is of interest to someone who isn't an art student, but it's not my place to second guess another's motivations. "If you have reason to attend the studio, you could arrange something..." He offered offhand. The entire declaration seemed odd, and the hunter felt certain he missed an integral portion of the comment Rhys surrendered.
The introduction offered a segue for that portion of the conversation that Shale took without complaint. "Shale." There's a curious difference between his introduction and Marinus' - one offered last, the other offered first. Perhaps it's Marinus' intention of keep others at arm's length unless there is precedent otherwise. It's difficult to speculate on that man. Theater involved plays from his understanding, of which Shale had witnessed none - he was uncertain what to make of the major or its constituent applications in life. However, he suspected that the ability to act proved very useful in customer service situations, and likely had broader applications from the two known career paths.
Shale offered a couple questions of his own while the elevator sounded its arrival. "It's been a little over a month since I moved here. Why come to Destiny City? Is the theater program offered by the university more thorough than those in the London area?" Stepping through the door, he cast a glance over his shoulder to see if the newly-met Rhys intended to follow.
If I'm fortunate, he won't ask what brought me to this place. I had enough trouble with contriving a story for Orah. And Negaverse affiliations beg for secrecy over plain explanation.
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Posted: Sun Apr 12, 2015 12:50 am
Rhys raised his eyebrows. Well, that seemed to have flown entirely over his conversation partner’s head. Perhaps, though, he would look into it. It was another form of performance art, one might argue, and so useful to his curriculum. Or…something. But that was something for another time, when he had time off between classes, perhaps.
“Shale. That’s a lovely name,” he said, and his tone was light and playful. Alright, so maybe he was starting to hope this wouldn’t be a one-time interaction, that perhaps they might run into each other again. That certainly wasn’t a crime, was it? So he slipped out of the elevator and stuck, for the moment, with the handsome stranger (less strange, now that he had a name.)
“Oh, no, it wasn’t about opportunities – if anything, I might’ve done better for that back home. But my family has been going back and forth for years and my parents finally decided they’d rather settle on this side of the pond, to be closer to a number of their friends.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Maintaining a residence an ocean away from my parents might have been appealing, but it was tragically impractical. I can’t really complain too much, though – the acting opportunities may not be quite as good, but there are plenty of other things – and people- that more than make up for it. Which room are you headed to?” The segue wasn’t exactly neat, but it was sort of an important question in calculating how much longer he could drag this out without it becoming creepy enough that even someone as apparently oblivious to flirtation as Shale would notice.
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Posted: Sun Apr 12, 2015 10:35 am
This one is liberal with compliments. Or voicing his opinion. I wonder if it's a trait endemic to the English. It would be too much generalization to say so from Rhys alone. "It is, at least, easy to tell when someone is looking for me." Destiny City's residents have, thus far, not exhibited any interest in naming their offspring after types of rock.
When they crossed into the major hallway that ran the length of the building, Shale realized the great folly in arriving impeccably on time - each smaller branch of doors emptied as tributaries into the human river, which slowed to a crawl with all the bodies cutting across each other, excusing each other, accusing each other. Someone dropped their books with a clatter and ceased traffic further. Another door opened some yards away to release more students. More still knelt to assist in cleaning up the papers. Yelling further down signaled that someone was jocking around with their friends, and likely caused more of a spectacle to gawk at. With only ten minutes to change classes, Shale expected more purpose to their gaits.
Apparently, the students lacked similar views.
"We're going to be here a while," Shale responded with exasperation threatening to leak into his tone. Finally he abandoned trying to see over the crowd to spot the various disturbances and settled his gaze on his walking companion. "I can't say I can imagine what that's like. Moving to an entirely different country, that is. Where I'm from, most everyone grows up in the same house. You get older, marry, have children, and you still live with your parents. It's still strange to hear people talking about wanting to leave them behind." The more I stay in this city, the more I realize that the aspect of family is a temporary one - no, a changing one. Those closest in blood become distant relations to make way for the beginnings of their own families.
"I'm headed to 324, at the back of the building. Most of the art studios are there." Hands shifted into pickets while the bustling students slowly started to move. His shoulder bag threatened to edge off its ledge and descend down his arm. A student unintentionally clipping his side sent the hunter-c**-model stumbling toward Rhys, but not enough to hit the man. His bag, however, finally dropped to his wrist. "Hopefully you don't have long to sit through this."
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Posted: Sun Apr 12, 2015 10:11 pm
That it was unusual was true enough; Rhys didn't think he'd ever met anyone else with a name quite like that. It would make it easier to remember, certainly, not that he was likely to forget any of Shale.
A crowded college hallway wasn't exactly unfamiliar, but it was absolutely frustrating. "You'd think people would make an attempt to get places on time," he said, slightly grouchily, a mirror of Shale's frustration. Not that there was anything for it but wading through, really. It was a good thing he wasn't particularly paranoid about his personal space, really, or this would have been hell.
"As for my family, it's...complicated." He shrugged his shoulders, which shifted his bag enough that he nearly smacked someone with it - oops. "We disagree often." About everything from what major he ought to pursue to whether he was a capable and functional human being, it seemed. Cutting passive-aggression from them was his normal, and it was the reason he had gotten his own apartment. Tolerating that beyond what he had to was a ridiculous proposition.
Getting all the way through to the back of this mess of humanity seemed a particularly daunting proposition. "My room is a bit closer than that - 315; I'm taking a class on film." Why he felt the need to clarify, he wasn't sure. "Most of the way back, unfortunately." He found himself automatically reaching to steady his conversation partner, a hand going for Shale's shoulder to ensure the stumble didn't turn into more of a fall. "Any time at all spent struggling through this sort of mire is too much time."
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Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2015 9:01 am
He's starting to get vague. It may be better to let that thread of conversation drop, Shale cautioned himself while he looked to the walls for any kind of posted fire escape information. He located one, barely within sight, that indicated a narrow hallway that branched off the main line and paralleled it, likely used by teachers requiring supplies from the storage rooms. Unfortunately, there were no indications to mark if it were off-limits to students (though by technical classification, Shale was no student). It seemed a better option than wading through the congestion.
Shale spared no thought for the hand on his shoulder; Porsha so often touched him at the apartment that physical contact felt customary. "315..." He muttered to himself. He squinted toward the map and barely identified the letters. The juxtaposition to the hallway looked good; they wouldn't pass the room before exiting the hallway.
Shale's tattooed hand grasped the other man's wrist, and in starting toward the hallway, pulled Rhys' hand from his shoulder. Shale tugged lightly on the theater student's wrist before releasing it. "Come; we might be able to avoid this." And that avoidance entailed weaving through another cluster of students with books clung to chests and bags huddled about bodies, but the seas parted easier when heading perpendicular to the hallway. No one seemed to spare a thought to those passing through over anyone that might be cutting between the crowds for freedom from the traffic jam. And since Shale offered no obvious interest in heading toward that direction, no one thought the wiser to follow him.
Or, at least, that's what he figured to himself before he discovered the hallway door. Plastered over the front was a neat white sign with clearly legible letters printed in straight black: STAFF ONLY.
I suppose it keeps the hallway clear. I wonder if models are considered staff. If so, there shouldn't be any problems with my cutting through. Rhys, on the other hand... Shale spared a glance back to his companion momentarily before shrugging away the thought. I suspect the sign wards most everyone away. There's no reason for them to check the halls unless they ran into us. No harm done. Shale tried the knob, found it unlocked, and pushed past the threshold into the narrow, and welcomingly empty, hallway.
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Posted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 9:21 pm
Rhys certainly wasn't going to argue with taking a cut-through if it got him to class on time, even if he wasn't familiar with it in any sort of way. It couldn't go too far, he hoped; it wouldn't make sense for it to wind off into some nonsense direction, that would be silly and impractical.
He did take note of the tattoo on the other man's hand, and for a moment, he wondered where else there might be tattoos - not that he was likely to have that curiosity satisfied any time soon unless he did, in fact, sit in on a class. Still, it was interesting for an idle moment of consideration. And besides...
"My goodness, taking me aside to a private hallway? Maybe I am making a better impression than I thought," he said, and his tone was playful. He cut across the hallway, and was surprised how much easier that was than trying to push forward. It was like dealing with a riptide, that way; trying to swim against the current would end poorly, but going perpendicular went far better.
He clicked his tongue at the "Staff Only" sign, but that wasn't exactly an obstacle. It was still an intelligent cut-through, even if perhaps he wasn't necessarily supposed to go through it. Who cared, really, as long as they didn't get caught? And besides, as long as they didn't disturb anything, it wasn't as if they were doing anything too wrong. Merely just trying to get to class (or, he supposed, for Shale, a job) on time. So he slid through the door, letting it shut behind him.
"Well, this will be far easier. I'll have to remember this is here." How he hadn't found it yet, he could only guess. Probably because routine was generally easier, and shoving through was routine - checking for side exits was not.
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Posted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 5:47 am
"What?" Shale asked over his shoulder. "We were both already talking, and I figured neither one of us wanted to stand around in that mess." Mostly the walls were clean of the familiar laminated signs found in student hallways, but there were a few papers posted up next to the doors. A quick glance confirmed that most were sign in/sign out sheets used to keep track of lab cleanliness in the art sections. Sometimes Shale would glimpse one of the instructors with back turned to the hallway, lurking in their rooms. One he even found on the phone. However, none had noticed them yet, which bade well.
"I don't think you'll forget this is here," Shale returned in a quieter voice. "It looks like an easy way to circumvent traffic flow. I can't see why they bar use to students." For those that used these classrooms, it mitigated the traffic flow outside and allowed direct entry. And if the traffic flow outside found reduction by this method, then everyone reached their classes sooner. He didn't understand everything about classrooms or traditional teaching, though, so he left the suggestion well enough alone.
The exit door came quickly, which dumped the pair into a significantly more occupied hallway, but not enough to cause a standstill in movement. It left them a cut ahead from most of the students who now lingered in the biomass clogging the main hallway. Shale recognized he still had a fair distance to go to visit his class. He would not, however, be late.
"While we're wading... What are you working on in your film class?" Having rarely ever seen films, he was uncertain what could be studied within them. They told a story, the story ended, the audience left. What within them demanded such great survey that a class was born to cover their depthless secrets? It sparked a point of curiosity within the hunter. Certainly it could be something to meditate on during his own class, or a reason to sit in on one of those classes in the future. He wasn't certain whether they allowed free seatings for those types of classes, as they deeply emphasized that no other students sit in on his own classes, but film might be different if it lacked naked people.
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Posted: Mon Apr 27, 2015 2:18 pm
Rhys laughed softly, shaking his head. Watching his innuendos zoom over Shale's head was absolutely making this way more enjoyable, even if he was getting exactly nowhere in the flirtation department. Couldn't win them all, on that front, but at least he was getting some amusement out of it, never mind that he had a much more convenient route to class.
At least the secondary hallway they'd - Shale, really - found was moderately less crowded, and that meant that, yes, he was in fact going to make it on time; mostly a concern because the professor tended to start the movies rather quickly and looked askance at any disturbance once it was started.
(Not entirely fair given the crowded nature of the hallways, but life on a college campus was not fair, in Rhys's experience.)
A question about his course of study was a very effective way to distract him from just about everything else. Preference for cooking and culinary arts as a career track aside, he did still love film and theater. "We study the way the films are set up and performed - how each acting and directing choice adds weight and meaning to a scene. The way shots are lit, the way things are framed, the presence or absence of music, even choices about a character's wardrobe all make a difference in the message you receive from a film." He could probably have talked for hours about it, left unrestrained. "Particular aspects of it are relevant to theater - especially in the realm of how an actor's and director's choices lend different aspects to a role, particularly for plays where the actual written direction is slim, like Shakespeare."
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Posted: Thu Apr 30, 2015 5:52 am
"It makes sense." Some aspects that he described carried real-world equivalents, such as the lighting in a home setting a different mood, or a person projecting an alternative image given the wardrobe they don. Others he was somewhat lost on, like the angle of shots or their framing. What did that even mean, and why was it important? "Many of those have applications in, or are based off of, the real world. But why hold a class on it? Do people not innately recognize these things?" Or perhaps they neglected to think consciously on it, or that was some agreed-upon interpretation that fit the film far better than the rest.
It gave him something to think about during modeling.
"Have you found you've learned a lot about your chosen major so far?" Gathering information on the efficacy of higher learning promised some payoffs in the future - particularly if his interests mandated it. Not hunting or archery, as he could easily get licensed to teach it by now, but... His thoughts strayed to Babylon's wonder, and all of the unmolested potential for knowledge and discovery. If he could learn a great deal about archaeology, or anthropology, then what might he learn if he dug around in the Rift? What if he was taken to a second planet, perhaps by Hvergelmir? The potential for learning unprecedented amounts of information about this strange, second history begged Shale to spend thousands of dollars on an education that may not be very applicable in normal situations.
Shale wagered he had a few minutes - the hall clock only read :53 - and he wasn't keen on arriving early, so he picked a portion of wall to lean against. Something fluttered beneath his hair, which he assumed were papers. If Rhys wanted to linger and avoid setting up early, Shale considered him welcome. Otherwise, he would find no offense in the man's departure. His arms crossed over chest, his fingers draped over forearms.
"Sometimes teaching it is the best way to learn something. If you find yourself needing to do it, I would be interested to learn about your theatrical studies."
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Posted: Sat May 02, 2015 1:59 pm
Rhys nodded. "It's more that people aren't aware of them, but let them influence the way you see things anyway. And if you have any desire to go into film production, you sort of have to understand how to fit it together. Going just by instinct and what you think works doesn't do well. It's not a perfect science, of course, everyone's perceptions are different." He shrugged.
"I have learned a lot, I would say. I had some experience before, the learn-by-doing sort, but really studying history and conventions and such makes me feel like I understand the whole thing better." It probably seemed silly, but to hm, it made perfect sense. Certainly there was plenty to be learned on stage in front of an audience, and he would never discount his practical experience, but the classroom environment was useful too.
He glanced briefly at the clock - seven minutes, plenty of time as far as he was concerned,and it wasn't as if he was ever going to be averse to sharing knowledge. Or talking about theater. "I wouldn't mind teaching, certainly, particularly if you're an eager student." Any excuse to see more of Shale; he was handsome and interesting. "I don't know how much wisdom I can impart in a few short minutes, but I'd love to meet up again. Perhaps get coffee and discuss?"
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Posted: Sun May 03, 2015 8:18 am
Shale considered the ramifications behind human perception and its uses in film. Cultural perceptions likely demanded significant consideration when making a movie - as well as target audience. Being a layman himself, Shale was uncertain how well any director would know to cater to the audience chosen. Rhys might have some idea given his major, and it seemed an interesting topic to learn about, so Shale saw no reason to turn down a chance to learn of it.
"I don't think there exists a perfect science. Even with the scientific theory, there's still a lot of approximation - and the theories taken for truth occasionally get uprooted. Studying film and perception as a 'science' is probably no less credible than psychology itself." Another glance to the clock read :55.
Turning back to Rhys, he nodded toward the man's bag. "Do you have a pen? Coffee would be fine, and afterward a movie would at least give the chance to see these techniques in action. That demands a lot of time, so it can wait until your school load is manageable enough to spare some hours. I'll give you my number for that." Unfortunately, there were no pens or paper required of models - only strange wooden props kept around to give the artists a means to relate a figure to a more widely recognized, or standardized, object.
"After that, I think we should both get going."
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