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 Posted: Mon Feb 08, 2016 12:03 am
Quote: Priscilla Stratford (Ghouliboo) x Chase Black (Nuxaz) Each person would receive a red envelope addressed to their attention in the mail that day. The envelope contained a white note card, ticket information neatly printed on one side in an elegant silver script and the details provided by their date on the reverse side. The museum will open its doors at 6:45pm for the birds that like to be early. You will be meeting with your partner on the first floor, right wing in front of the exhibit titled Magenta, Lemonade, Rouge: A Color Study in Oils. Refreshments will be served in the grand hall for those wishing to partake. Rose colored eyes squinted as her head tilted, her free hand moving up to idly toy with the fabric rose wrapped around her neck. Curls of pink tumbled down over her naked shoulder, gently tickling her soft skin as the young woman continued to stare at the artwork presented before her, the tiny gold-plated title resting below it. Her mind had drifted from the art, however, still contemplating her choice of attire for the night's gala. It was ridiculous, of course, to wear such a spring-appropriate dress when it was below thirty degrees outside but for goodness sakes, she'd bought the darn thing for her birthday weekend and like fudge was she going to keep it hanging in the closet! Besides - it matched her white fur coat, so that was simply that. The painting in front of her resembled nothing like lemonade. If anything, it was some artist's attempt to make a quick buck by having their toddler play with their canvas and paints while the artist themselves napped or did whatever trivial things artists did besides paint. Yellow and pink streaked across the large square of fabric, dashed with bits of what Prissy could only assume to be rouge coloring. Hmph. Clearly she'd missed her life's calling by not picking up a paintbrush, herself, if making money was this simple. Eyes rolled as she glanced down at the card still nestled between her thumb and index finger. She'd tucked the envelope away in her wristlet, along with the candy wrapper of the caramel that had been popped into her mouth only moments earlier. The savory candy was the only thing keeping her boredom away, as the artwork the gallery had made such a fuss over turned out to be nothing but dull and blah. The opportunity to meet some new faces in this new, highly unusual city had appealed to her, so she'd signed up for the Date Night event. The notion of spending the evening perusing through an art gallery hadn't been such a terribly exciting thought, but it weeded out the more unsavory undesirables who would surely never sign up for such a cultured event, right? Perhaps this Chase gentleman would prove more entertaining than the displays on the wall. If anything, the promise of a pink fohawk would be amusing - at least this man, whoever he was, had some taste when it came to color! Nuxaz Sorry no one warned you that I was terrible with titles
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Posted: Tue Feb 09, 2016 3:06 pm
Chase Black had been guilt tripped into signing up for the museum matchmaking event. It'd been a conversation over the phone, multiple ones actually, with his mother until he was sighing and saying, yeah, okay mom, I'll sign up, just to appease her. There was little that his mother asked of him, he figured he could give her this even if he expected nothing to come of it.
It didn't help that the invitation had included a token to the bar across the street and upon receiving it, he'd scrutinized it before slipping it into his pocket. Sure, Priscilla's form didn't lend to the best of impressions but he wasn't sure she was bad enough to warrant a free drink.
Still, he approached the museum in slight apprehension of what he might find when he did meet her. Chase didn't drink, but knowing he could was a mild reassurance.
The man had actually put time and effort into his appearance because he'd promised his mother that he would try. His face was clean shaven, his pink and black hair spiked carefully into his preferred fauxhawk style, and he dressed in a white button up, black jeans, black vest and black tie. He looked like he could either be heading to work in a corporate office or to a nice dinner.
The minute he stepped into the exhibit he knew that she'd beaten him there.
Sighing, straightening out his vest and readjusting his grip on the small bouquet of flowers he'd convinced himself to bring he slowly approached her and the painting they were supposed to appreciate it.
"Priscilla?"
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 2:35 am
His voice was clear, rising over the low hum and incoherent babbling of the couples and groups surrounding them. Her head turned to meet the speaker, eyes wide, bright and terribly, awfully hopeful. "Mr. Black?" Indeed, her date stood in front of her - unless, of course, pink and black hair in fauxhawk style was a more common trend than she'd credited it to be. Something told her, however, that this was indeed the owner of the voice that had addressed her. And, first impressions wise, she was pleased. Very pleased. Chase Black had not only dressed appropriately for the occasion, but he wasn't hard on the eyes either. Maybe it was her prior judgement on the lack of appeal towards the other male participants loitering in the art gallery's hallways, but from initial examination, this gentleman had at least three things going for him. He was tall. (She liked tall.) He had pink hair. (She liked pink.) He had flowers. (She really liked presents.) Feet pivoted around so that she was now facing him, the caramel tucked away in the corner of her mouth quickly swallowed, erasing all evidence but the sweetness lingering on her breath. The wristlet was tucked under one arm and she gave him a genuine smile as her head bobbed, acknowledging his inquiry. However, being the presumptuous woman that she was, one hand quickly outstretched itself, a single finger pointing towards the bouquet in his hand. "Would those happen to be for me?"
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Posted: Thu Feb 18, 2016 2:34 pm
Mr. Black?
He offered her a weak smile, unsure if it even looked remotely charming because he couldn't remember the last time he'd been that. He was a little uncomfortable beneath his nice clothing and seemingly relaxed posture. He was still very good at putting up a front, the act falling over him like it was second nature. Whiskey colored eyes took in everything that was Priscilla Stratford and there was an inkling in the back of his head that told him that well - he might be in over his head with a girl like her.
Especially when she pointed immediately to bouquet in his hand.
Blinking slowly he stepped forward, extending his arm to offer them to her. "Of course," he said soft but clearly. "A respectable gentleman always greets a lady with flowers on the first date." His mother had raised him well, even if hadn't been on a date in Cosmos knows now long. It was a carefully picked arrangement, filled with a variety of pink flowers based on the idea that she liked pink if her hair was the color. Prominent flowers included pink roses and stargazer lilies.
Chase would never admit it, but he spent an awful lot of time looking up the meaning of flowers when he picked them out.
"I meant to bring you chocolates, or candy, but I thought that might be something better if I let you pick them out." The card that'd been mailed to him had led him to believe that she would be picky. He didn't want to get a box of chocolates only to have her immediately hate them. "Perhaps after viewing of this," he gestured to the painting with an expression of mild interest on his face, "lovely painting."
Okay, so it looked like a splatter of paint and he had no idea what he was supposed to feel when he looked upon it, but hey, that was part of the date.
He snuck a glance at her outfit and was very, very glad that he'd gone with a pink bouquet since it matched her outfit. She seemed like someone who liked to match.
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Posted: Fri Feb 26, 2016 5:50 pm
The adoration of the flowers was evident in her expression, the woman eagerly accepting the bouquet and immediately cradling it against her chest. She dipped her head down and gently inhaled, immersing herself in their scent. For whatever mysterious reason, roses always smelled sweeter when they were given to her by others, as opposed to buying them for herself. The color was perfect, the flower choice was superb - this man clearly had good taste. "They're beautiful," she murmured softly, feeling a swelling of pride and smugness as her gaze trailed off to the people surrounding them. None of the other dates were receiving anything nearly as gorgeous as she was - which suited her just perfectly fine. His gesture brought her attention back to her date, but her nose wrinkled as he complimented the oil painting behind them. The flowers lowered, remaining nestled against her chest as she moved to stand beside him. Perhaps if she viewed it from where he was standing, she could see what he was referring to....no, no it was still fairly hideous and pointless and toddler-like. "I hope you're being sarcastic." The words escaped before she could filter her thoughts. Priscilla considered herself a fairly decent judge of all things cultural and exquisite but aside from present company, there was nothing especially exquisite about anything at the gallery that evening. "Perhaps a respectable gentleman would do his enchanting date a favor and take her away from such artwork? Perhaps...for dinner? Or even a stroll?" He earned points for suggesting candy - he was a good reader, clearly. Prissy knew her entry into the Date Night was fairly pretentious (Kat had assured her of such, a little too gleefully at that) but Chase seemed to be more than prepared to handle a real woman, such as herself. Even if she was maybe a little bit egotistical. Maybe. "You're welcome to call me Prissy, if you would like." Nuxaz A Wild Response Has Appeared! Edit: Sorry for the double quote, MY BAD
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Posted: Sat Feb 27, 2016 12:50 pm
A slight wiry grin began to form upon his lips as she examined the bouquet and complimented his choices. This was not something he did often, but Chase Black did not do things in halves so a small curl of pride spread through him at her delight.
"It is not my cup of tea," he said slowly, gaze shifting between his date and the piece of artwork that the museum attendant had selected for them to view. "But art is subjective, just because it does not speak to me does not mean that it doesn't speak to someone else." An easy shrug of his shoulders before his hands found their way into his front pockets of his jeans. Art galleries had never really been his thing, but he'd been dragged to enough of them by his mom that he knew what to look for or how to respond when certain questions were asked.
But it appeared that Priscilla was not an art snob and then, maybe, he felt a little more relaxed about the "date".
He took her words into consideration, debating between offering to take her to dinner or opting for the stroll. The stroll would be better, he decided, because then he wouldn't be trapped at a table with her if things went south. "A stroll sounds lovely, despite the crisper air - it's a lovely evening." Besides, perhaps they'd stumble upon a sweet's shop she could get something from.
"I don't have a fun shortening of my name I lament, so it's just plain old Chase for me." He was trying to be charming, so at least there was that. It'd been a while, he was rusty.
He held his arm out for her, "well Prissy. Shall we?"
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Posted: Wed Mar 02, 2016 3:36 pm
Her agreement was of the silent variety, reaching out and looping her arm around his in response as the duo slowly made their way past the flood of strangers attempting to awkwardly greet one another. A quick stop by the coat clerk and her fluffy white jacket was retrieved, further preparing her for their exit. The art gallery wasn't terrible, but it certainly didn't hold her attention. So when they escaped past the greeters at the front door, she felt a breath of relief slip from her lips. She liked formal, but she wasn't going to independently choose to take part in either some stuffy or quaint affair, if she had an actual choice in the matter. A gated garden appeared on their left, clearly part of the building they'd just departed from. Nudging her date in that direction, they walked along the sidewalk parallel to it, allowing them a beautiful - well, half beautiful - walking scenery. The plants and flowers were dormant and dead, leaving nothing but snowed-over dirt clods, but the statues and fountains scattered across the yard were still beautiful, in their own rights. "So, Chase," her arm remained attached to his, her eyes mindful of the mounds of snow her shoes were attempting to avoid, "What do you do for a living? Do you work here in the city?"
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Posted: Sun Mar 06, 2016 7:09 pm
Chase let Prissy lead, having no qualms about letting her direct the direction in which they walked. It'd been a while since he'd let control rest in someone else's hands and though the feeling was muted, it was nice to just coast instead of surf.
He wasn't looking at her when she began speaking, attention focused on the dead or dormant plants, the hard packed snow that hadn't melted yet, and the stone decorations that littered the garden, but turned to glance at her curiously when she asked. Lips pursed together contemplatively and he shrugged, looking mildly uncomfortable at the question.
It was hard to say if that was just his natural state, but then again, Chase had never been keen on talking about work. Not since he'd left the technology tycoon when his mother had been hospitalized. Still, she'd asked a question and he was obligated to answer. Small talk was apart of a first date after all.
"I own a coffee shop," he stated more plainly than intended. "I used to do it concurrently while working for a technology tycoon but when my mother ended up in the hospital I took a leave, then decided not to return." He had enough in his trust fund, investments, and inheritance to feasibly never work again. If his mother died, he'd have more money than he knew what to do with. The coffeeshop brought in a decent revenue, enough to pay the cost of running, those he employed, and still turn a small profit.
"Do you work Prissy?"
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Posted: Thu Mar 10, 2016 12:11 pm
Work was such a horrid word, her nose wrinkling as she dwelled on it. She still despised the fact that she'd been force to take a job, despite the fact that it was through her job that she'd already met several individuals that had changed the course of her otherwise boring life at home. Still, it meant she had to do forms of manual labor and that would always irk her. "I'm a waitress at The Sugar Cube," she answered, casually avoiding the horrible w-word at the same time, "A little cafe by the mall. Mostly we serve sweets - you know, cookies, cakes, brownies?" The fact that he owned his own business was impressive, especially considering that he looked hardly much older than herself. Why he would get out of such a profiting area such as technology, though, was puzzling. Then again, if her mother had still been around to care for... "I'm sorry to hear about your mother." Her voice grew quieter, more thoughtful as they continued down the sidewalk. "Hopefully, she's doing better now?" The caution was evident in her voice - was this a subject they needed to steer clear of, or was safe to approach?
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Posted: Sun Mar 13, 2016 11:24 am
Chase had heard of The Sugar Cube before, though he'd never gone before and he did his best to hide the surprise that he felt when she told him that she did, in fact, work. He hadn't expected it.
"It sounds like my type of shop." Chase had always had an affinity for sweets, though his consumption of them had dwindled over the years. He hardly remembered to eat regularly so sweets had been pushed to the back burner of things he got to eat. "Perhaps one of these days I could...visit?"
He looked at Prissy sheepishly, trying to play the part of the charmer he knew he could be. He wasn't sure what he wanted out of this date but at least he could try. It'd made his mother happy if he, at the very least, made it to a second date.
"Yeah, she's doing better. At least than she has been since my father died. She's out visiting her parents, I uh - " he paused trying to decide how much he wanted to share with her. "I sent her there because too much of the city reminded her of my father. She's actually the reason I - she asked me to give the date night set up a chance. I've never been good at telling her no."
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Posted: Mon Mar 14, 2016 6:10 am
"That would be absolutely lovely." His attempt at charming was delightful, to say the least, and if his suave personality was forced, Priscilla was entirely oblivious of it. She laughed at his last comment - oh how she could relate! "It's a talent we get, as women," came the sly response, as if she were revealing a well-kept secret to him. Her smile grew impish, "Convincing men to carry out our wishes and whimsies. Daddy's the same way, don't worry." Giving the arm she remained attached to a consoling pat, Priscilla couldn't help but find amusement in the situation. So the devilishly handsome Mr. Black did not choose to come out on his own this evening? Interesting. She could respect the fact that he was attempting to please his mother - another sign of gentlemanly nature, surely. Instead of prying further, she took control of the conversation, continuing on with her prattling. "He's actually out of town, right now. Daddy, that is. I hadn't actually planned on doing the art gallery tonight either, but my friend Katrina talked me into it. Said I needed to meet more people, work on my people skills." Her opposite hand gestured out into a half-hearted wave, as if silently dismissing Kat's words from her mind. The bouquet's paper crinkled softly with her movement, the flowers bobbing softly. It was then that a neon sign on the corner of the upcoming street caught her eye, the pink color naturally commanding her attention. The ice cream parlor was quaint, but cute, pastel colors trimming the white wallpaper of what she could see from a distance. "Oh, look! Ice cream!" It didn't matter that it was the middle of February - there was never a bad time for ice cream, in Priscilla Stratford's opinion. With her date having already made the mistake of revealing his enjoyment of sweet shops, she was now determined to test her own skills on keeping him from saying no. Squeezing the arm she held, she paused to press her side gently against his. Looking up to meet his gaze, pink eyes looked at him, pleading. "Do you mind if we stop in there? Please?"
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Posted: Mon Mar 14, 2016 1:36 pm
After Prissy's agreement to his carefully worded suggestion, Chase made a mental note to store the name of her place of work in a place in his memory so he could follow through. If the rest of the night went well he mused.
"Mom's the only one who's got me completely wrapped around her finger," he admitted, a fond look on his face as he thought about the frail woman. There were other women who could make him do things but that was more about loyalty and respect than genuine care. Of course, Chase didn't bother to bring it up, it had no point during a date where he was supposed to be getting to know her.
The name of her friend made his attention solely hers, because Katrina was not that common of a name and yet -
No, they couldn't possibly know the same Kat. It was merely a coincidence, there had to be more than one Katrina in Destiny City.
"Of course," was Chase's automatic reply when Prissy squealed for ice cream. "Whatever m'lady wants for the evening." Chase had promised Lara to see the date all the way through and if Prissy wanted ice cream, he'd get her ice cream. It was the proper thing to do after all.
He seemed to stiffen but not mind the sudden press of the girl against his side and he tried to smile in response as he shifted, reaching for the door to hold it open for her.
"After you."
Chase didn't mind ice cream, he did have a sweet tooth after all.
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Posted: Tue Mar 15, 2016 6:03 am
It was only after his smoothly worded agreement that she finally released his arm, moving to slip through the open doorway and into the chilled parlor. The tiny shop was empty, save for its two newest customers and the young woman sitting idly on the stool behind the register. She had on a crisp white t-shirt with the words Yogo Loco on it, a matching cap with the same words emblazoned across it that held back her brunette ponytail. A bubble from her chewing gum was being blown as the couple walked in, then popped and sucked back into her mouth as she noticed the customers' arrival. "Welcome to Yogo Loco, where we're Loco for Yogo," she said, the enthusiasm in her voice lacking, her hand poised over the next page of the fashion magazine laying spread out in front of her on the counter. "Let me know when you're ready." Prissy ignored the unprofessional approach of the parlor girl, choosing instead to gently place the bouquet on the nearest table before approaching the array of flavors on the display bar. Rows and rows of colorful ice cream beckoned her - chocolate, peanut butter, cookies and creme, rainbow sherbet - the decisions were seemingly endless. Her eyes widened in excitement as fingers pressed against the glass, much to the chagrin of the worker, who had half-attempted to clean it only minutes earlier. It took several minutes of glancing back and forth from the display case and the menu posted on the back wall before the pinkette could come to any sort of decision. "Hm..." The girl slowly slid off of her stool, approaching the couple from the other side of the counter. She hadn't expected there to be many customers on a cold, snowy February day, but as long as these two didn't cause too much of a mess, she could care less at the end of the day. "Do you know what you want, ma'am?" "I'd like...." her finger moved across the glass, settling on a particularly colorful cream, "Cupcake confetti? Could I get two scoops, extra sprinkles and whipped cream? Oh - oh - and a cherry?" "Bowl or cone?" The debate was written on Priscilla's face as she glanced up to meet the worker's gaze. Waffle cone would be extra scrumptious, but eating it wouldn't be nearly as ladylike as using a spoon would be. Her nose wrinkled, then smoothed out. "Bowl. Please." As the girl began her scooping, Priscilla adjusted the edges of her coat and stole a sideways glance at her date. "Anything look appealing to you?"
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Posted: Wed Mar 16, 2016 9:04 am
Chase lingered back by the door as Prissy set the bouquet on a table then, very enthusiastically, perused the ice cream choices. Her excitement was a little startling, with the way she pressed herself against the glass, but Chase found that he was amused by it all.
Slowly, as Prissy settled on her ice cream choice, Chase slipped over to her, standing a respectable distance away while still being obviously in her proximity. He took the pause where the girl deliberated between cone or bowl to peer through the glass at the ice cream selection provided. Unlike his date, he didn't have a hard time deciding. When it came to ice cream he was surprisingly simple.
"One scoop of the cookies'n'cream in a bowl please," he ordered behind her. "Always been a favorite of mine and hard to dislike no matter where you get it from." He explained, though it was likely unnecessary.
His hand reached for his back pocket, sliding the leather wallet free and popping it open with one hand, pulling the card out of it's pocket and offering it to the girl behind the counter. She took his card and traded it for Prissy's double scoop with whip and a cherry, a pink spoon nestled between the ice cream and the paper cup and he held it to her with an arched brow and a slight smirk.
"Excellent ice cream choice. I can see your a lady who doesn't skimp on the simple pleasures."
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Posted: Wed Mar 16, 2016 9:33 am
His smirk was returned with one of her own as two fingers daintily moved to pluck the cherry that had been placed atop the ice cream only moments prior. Popping it in her mouth, she gave it precisely three chews before swallowing. "Life's too short to not enjoy the simple pleasures, Mr. Black." She was silently pleased at his promptness in paying - had he attempted to go dutch, the date would have officially been over before the parlor girl had time to ring up their order. His mother had clearly raised him properly. Glancing at his order as the worker handed it to him, she smiled again. He wasn't a plain jane when it came to flavors, which was also a good sign, nor did he take his time mulling over his decision - another interesting observation. The man clearly knew what he liked. Taking her treat over to the table, she scooted the white-wired chair out from beneath the circular table and took her seat upon it, keeping the cup of ice cream in her hand while doing so. The spoon was cute (though she may have been biased) and looked even better with a bite of ice cream, topped with cream and sprinkles. It took a few moments before she was willing to speak again, first choosing to savor the flavor of the frozen delight, complete with tiny bits of cake scattered amidst the cream. Finally, in between bites, she revived the conversation. "So tell me, Chase, what made you get into the coffee business? I don't picture you being very passionate about coffee beans." It did make her wonder what he was passionate about, however.
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