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 Posted: Sat Oct 01, 2016 12:43 pm
"Mr. Thorne?" Horace rang the doorbell. His brightly colored umbrella was an almost disgusting contrast to the sober grey suit he wore. Twirling the orange and pink polka-dotted monstrosity, he debated peering into a window. That, of course, would be rude, and he was here on business. He wished it would stop drizzling so. Autumn was supposed to have its dreary days, of course, but where was the clear, crisp days that smelled of leaves and pumpkins? Eschewing the doorbell, Horace knocked, frowning. "Mr. Thorne? It's Horace Nokoni - we spoke on the phone."
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Posted: Sat Oct 01, 2016 8:54 pm
Thorne came to the door with a yawn, pulling open the door. He was glad for the light downpour as opposed to the heavy rain that had been falling for days in the aftermath of the earthquake, and his eyes found Horace with ease. A smile crossed his face, wicked and raw, regal and calm to match the sharp vest and button down shirt he wore, both of them night-dark.
"Nice to meet you in person, Horace, and please, there's no need for formality here, you can call me Thorne," He said, his voice low and sure, "Anyways, Come in. Do you want tea or coffee?"
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Posted: Sun Oct 02, 2016 10:36 am
The corners of Horace's lips twitched. Still the last name, even without the honorific - how very typical artist. He was kind of cute, though. "Very nice to meet you as well, Thorne. And, ah, coffee, if you've already got a pot on." Horace leaned his umbrella against the entryway wall, carefully making sure it wouldn't tip right over once he let go. "Nice place - did everything hold up okay during that earthquake?"
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Posted: Sun Oct 02, 2016 1:56 pm
Thorne hummed, amused, and led the way into Coalsmoke. The space was full of the scent of paint and soil, coffee and ink. The cavernous home was filled in front by the kitchen and the space they'd somehow carved into a living den. The rest beyond it was nothing but plants and tiered ladders of herb gardens, a work space for an artist somewhere in the mix.
"Yeah, of course," Thorne said, wandering over to the kitchen and bringing two mugs down from the cupboard.
"A few of our pots shattered, and some of the plants had a rough time, but otherwise we held up fine," Thorne responded, glancing back at Horace. "How about you?" He paused and sighed. "With all the crazy weather, it's a surprise they're not predicting the end of the world yet."
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Posted: Wed Oct 05, 2016 11:45 am
It looked more like a garden than a living space, Horace thought. He understood it used to be a warehouse and he could see it; the high ceilings seemed to tower over them both. "Yeah, everything was fine on my end, though I'm worried my basement will flood." He grimaced. That was never fun. His house was fairly sparsely furnished - he didn't spend a lot of time there, so he never felt the need. Plus, after living several years in a similar environment, he'd gotten used to minimalism, although that thought didn't make him happy. He wandered along with Thorne, watching as the other man prepped coffee."I hope it doesn't actually end; I've got too much work to do. Plus I don't think my clients would be happy with me." They'd wanted Thorne and only Thorne - something about local artists only.
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Posted: Fri Oct 07, 2016 12:02 am
Thorne glanced back at Horace with a smile, apologetic and warm.
"That sounds awful," he admitted, "Let me know if you need help with anything. I'm not much good for actual repairs, but I've been told I'm great manual labor when doing nothing else." He gave a shrug and added, "Sugar, creamer?"
The scent of coffee plumed through the air.
"It would be nice if it didn't, but I wouldn't be surprised," he responded mildly, "I have work to do before then though. And I'd rather not get sidetracked by having to crawl my way back out of hell." He glanced up at Horace. "So, a portrait commission? My style is far different than what I would imagine being in demand for this manner of work, but I wouldn't mind the challenge."
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Posted: Sat Oct 08, 2016 9:49 pm
"What - and risk your hands? No way, but thank you for the offer. And sugar, please, no cream." He liked his coffee strong and sweet and sometimes thick as sludge. One more thing to buy when he saved up enough - a new, fancy as ******** coffee machine. Horace would drink any and every kind of coffee, but sometimes a guy just needed the good stuff. ' He leaned his hip carefully against the wall. He was always a little uncomfortable in other people's spaces. "Let's hope hell doesn't come to rest here, then. So inconvenient. As for the client.... Apparently 'local artist' was a part of the will. They picked out you and here I am." He shrugged. "I have photos of the deceased, of course, and they have authorized me to discuss payment as well."
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Posted: Sat Oct 08, 2016 11:26 pm
"Ah, that would be a terrible thing, I guess," Thorne mused and smiled at Horace, offering him a cup of coffee as preferred by the other man, setting down a sugar jar in the event that he wanted it even sweeter.
"I'm sure it already has, in some way, shape, or form," Thorne retorted, a soft hum in his throat. "But what was it Milton once said? I will make Heaven my Hell, and Hell my Heaven?" He laughed, a raw-deep sound like an animal. Like something preternatural and divine. "Perhaps that is what we have always been meant to do." He paused, listening, and raised a brow. "That's an interesting request."
He gestured mildly.
"Here, may I see?" He asked. "Whoever put that sort of thing in their will must have been an interesting person."
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Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2016 3:24 pm
Milton, of course. Horace smiled tightly. Paradise Lost could never be one of his favorites and hearing it referenced again made his skin tighten up, made him feel years younger, impressionable. It made him feel slightly sick. "The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven," he said softly. He blinked at Thorne's request, the question drawing him back to the here and now. After a moment, he fumbled out a manila envelope. "Sure thing. The deceased did not specify what picture to be drawn from or if he wanted something wholly original, so the family provided me with several pictures." Inside were those pictures, as well as a copy of that particular portion of the will - anything more than that portion would have been unethical. The pictures showed an active black man, often with his dog, often in the woods. Some pictures were of him with his children, climbing trees with them or sitting on a porch wrapped in blankets. He seemed very hands-on. The last picture was of his face before embalming. Horace leaned forward and scooped more sugar into his coffee. "Those with the wealth to be so are often eccentric."
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Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2016 4:05 pm
Thorne flicked his eyes over to Horace, appreciative and curious, but did not press the matter of debate further. It was something unprofessional, and surely here he was meant to resemble some sort of dignity. He was sure that Horace hadn't come for a philosophical debate.
Humming, he took the envelope and flipped through the materials, going through them with gentle ease. He seemed considerate as he formatted his own thoughts, his own opinions. "Very well. A portrait, wasn't that correct? Are there anymore specifications on the commission?" Thorne gestured easily to the workspace that surrounded them, the easels and studies and sketches. "Well, even so, I would not mind taking a commission like this." He paused, thinking about his schedule, the due dates and deadlines.
His eyes roved to Horace. "If there is nothing else on this commission, we can discuss more boring details of transaction over coffee before it gets cold. The seasons are turning, after all. It's only a matter of time before it snows, and all of the world truly goes to hell."
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Posted: Wed Oct 12, 2016 11:29 am
He spread his hands. "Only specification was full-color and at least 16 x 20, though they are willing to pay for a larger size. Medium, everything else is up to you." Horace thought it was an odd request, but hey, it was what the deceased and family wanted. "Snow can be fun until you have to drive in it - it's nothing like the ice storms back home, though." He took a sip of his coffee and pulled out his notes on offering prices. Ah, business.
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Posted: Thu Oct 13, 2016 9:37 pm
"Easy enough," Thorne replied with a small laugh, "It'll be a fun challenge, if nothing else, and to honor the man would be nice." He took another sip of coffee and sighed, lowering it and letting himself start putting together possibilities in his head. "Driving in it is awful but walking through several feet of it is even worse," Thorne replied morosely. "I lived in Seattle for awhile where it was blessedly free of snow for the most part, but New York was awful." He shook his head out and sat down, glancing at Horace's notes as he did. Business, indeed. The Semblance of Unity this seems like it's good to wrap on your post if you want! c:
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Posted: Fri Oct 14, 2016 11:33 am
"Lived a little bit of everywhere, huh?" Horace had lived in Oklahoma, Florida, now here. He had no intention of returning. He shuffled the papers. "Now, about your commissioner's pricing..."
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