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After the whirlwind chaos of the prior weekend, between the gallery and his fight, Mathias was taking some him time. The whole affair at the gallery had been... interesting to say the least, and had led into his fight the next day being more or less an outlet for a rather cathartic victory. Though the welts and bruises were mostly hidden, the cut he'd gotten along his right cheek was still glued shut and lightly bandaged with a clear tape to minimize the amount of actual showing he could muster. He didn't always like to broadcast his side gig.

But today was a nice relaxing day to sit in the park, and watch people. And people watch he did. Seniors mostly, though what had his attention at the moment was a younger man playing chess with one of the older men that Mathias had long ago dubbed "The Baron," on account of his aquiline nose and high cheek bones that reminded Mathias of royalty.

One of his smaller sketchbooks open in his lap, resting as steadily as he could on the small lap desk he brought with him for such occasions, he sketched the two men engaged in their grueling chess match. That's how it was on T.V. Anyway. Mathias couldn't even guess who was winning - he knew at best, the basic rules of chess - but it had never been a game that had really drawn his attention aside from the artistic aspect of the board and the surreal image of little men on it in a more Alice Through the Looking Glass sort of way.

So he observed and he drew - knowing full well that if either of the men glanced in his direction his actions would be obvious. He never tried to hide his artistic ventures. After all - you couldn't sell art to a customer if they didn't know you were an artist... And he'd gifted the Baron a sketch or two, he was pretty sure the old man found them amusing.

Amber brown eyes rose from the obviously open sketchbook - with the two figures - not at all in the clothes they were wearing that day, but in high finery fit for a some sort of neo-feudalistic space opera, staring intently at the board with little men on it instead of pieces. It was still quite sketchy - the lines were rough, more of an idea of what was to come than anything else. Above it, a small notation of [30x60, landscape, buy more blue!] in neat tight print had been written.

"In a sense," Mathias offered, making a point to not obstruct the young man's view of the sketch. "You cut a fine figure, if I do say so myself. Gives the Baron a fun younger foil."

Without missing a beat, he reached into his pocket and produced a card holder sliding out a business card and offering it to the other man.

"Mathias White, professional artist," He said wagging the card slightly in the other man's direction.

He'd take it.

The card was - actually rather well made - professionally embossed and on fairly nice paper. Mathias had spared no expense on the graphic designer nor the materials.

What? Make his own card? He was an artist - not a graphic designer!

Taking the card back he flipped it back into the holder easily before slipping the whole thing back into his pocket like it was the most casual everyday thing in the world.

The man couldn't take a compliment, but his mention at doing art as an intern struck him as rather interesting - and would explain some of his lack of self esteem. Internships sucked the soul right out of you on a good day.

He did not miss them in the slightest.

"Thank you," He said, casting a glance back at the piece with a smirk. "I'll take the Jupiter Rising - though my inspirations lie more in the realm of Metal Album covers and the like. You'll see that if you check out the gallery on my site. I did try to organize things as best I could but it's hardly perfect, so if it feels oddly eclectic that's why."

"Though this one feels more like Through the Looking Glass meets Dune," He said with a chuckle. "The 1984 version though."

That movie was a guilty pleasure for him. Many people wouldn't peg him as the sci-fi type, but a quick look at his movies would dissuade them of that notion quickly - even if it was mostly pulpy space-operas and the like.

Mathias grinned, it was fun to meet someone who appreciated references here and there. "I mean, the Sci-fi mini-series wasn't awful, but it's not my first pick."

Not to mention it was harder than heck to find.

"As to that - yeah, I'll post it up," He nodded to the sketch. "I have a really bad pipeline, and tend to work a project until I either pass out or it's finished - so you'll probably just see the finished product - which you know what, if you want it once it's done, just shoot me an e-mail and I'll figure out a way to get it to you."

He liked the kid - and free art might drum up business if he put it up as a conversation piece - and even if he didn't... word of mouth alone...

At the mention of the cut the grin slipped slightly, his eyes shifting to look the man over again, and coming to the realization that he might as well just tell the other man the truth.

"I won a fight, actually, but not against a canvas," He said with a chuckle. "I moonlight in the MMA octagon in the amateur brackets. Not near good enough to go pro but I've been trying to get my toe in. No coach or sponsor makes it harder."

"Fun as hell though," He grinned. "I had a rough week - so it was a good catharsis."

"Okay, I admit in retrospect that came off a bit... borderline psychopathic," Mathias made a "so-so" motion of his free hand. "I'd had a really rough week - and I'll be the first to admit that some of my coping mechanisms are hardly what one would consider - healthy."

This was said with another flashed grin and a slight tilt of his head that he hoped relayed the fact that he was joking - well half joking.

"And you're actually not wrong, though it's an octagonal cage not so much a "ring,"" He motioned with his hand, trying to roughly sketch the shape in the air. "But, if you ever want to learn what a true full body workout feels like - spend a few minutes in the octagon, you'll be feeling in the next week."

"But, that's enough evangelizing," He chuckled. "You've humored my sales pitch, and I technically should pay you for modelling for me - I know a pretty nice little hole in the wall café that does expresso that will make you think you're in Europe. My treat?"

Thanks Delilah for giving him the link to a certain travel blog that highlighted that little snippet.

"That's a very good way to live," Mathias smirked, closing the sketchbook carefully and tucking it and the lap desk under an arm as he stood up, now having to look down at his new companion as he nodded. "Being attached to not being in pain I mean. Though I'll admit, you probably would find me a very poor opponent. I know the basics - but anything beyond castling is beyond me."

He gave the other man a genial smile, then motioned for him to follow, taking an easy stride forward, keeping his pace slow enough to be conversational and friendly.

"But, I might just have to take you up on that - at least once," He said. "If only to learn just how bad I actually am at the game."

The comment from the other man triggered a memory, and there was a slight hiccup in his step as he honestly - felt - the quarter whizz by his head again. What was it with his propensity to attract people who were deadly with their aim? He must have some sort of magnet installed in his head or elsewhere - or perhaps he had a sign tapped on his back?

Or was this just God's way of telling him that he needed to be his avenging crusader and hold the line while others laid down his wrathful fire?

Too soon to tell - honestly - and the comment earned a deep chuckle.

"I'll admit, my aim's not the best - but I'll keep that in mind," He shot the other man a look. "And make sure to stay on your good side, and out of line of sight if you decide to start lobbing things."

Rolling his shoulders, he kept them on their path out of the park and down the street a ways, his eyes looking around with a familiarity that was born of consistency.

"But too be fair - I haven't touched anything that required a steady aim in..," he seemed to actually have to think about this. "Oh God... High School? Yeah... High School."

"What DIDN'T I do in high school," Mathias smirked, "But, suffice it to say, my father felt that I needed a bit of discipline instilled in me - and so went to great lengths to ensure that I was in every possible Military adjacent program he could put me in... Things I have have since left behind me to pursue art - much to his chagrin."

He was sharing a lot - he knew that - but it was idle chatter, and if he'd picked up on his last name at all - it wasn't like anything he was saying wasn't common knowledge to those who kept up with the goings on of the more well to do.

"But I come from a long, established, military family, and am probably one of a handful of them who didn't... continue the tradition - so to speak," He shrugged. "I've got plenty of cousins who are more than happy to take my place, so I'm not concerned. - but nevertheless I am sure it rankles my father to no end that I never... followed in his footsteps."