Welcome to Gaia! ::

Sitting on one of the benches in the museum, he looked at the art and took it in. This wasn’t the Louver back home but each museum he’d seen in this city had its charm. The people here did as well, some of them had been quite pleasant to an immigrant such as himself, even going so far as to help him figure out the last few things he needed to open up shop here in the city.

It had been a slow start but he quite liked the new roots he was putting down in this city. There was life to be found here, far from the empty and cold home he’d left behind in Versailles. He’d had enough money to circumvent some of the more obnoxious methods of changing his status. Money talked and he had found his way into a Visa designed for business owners so he was here now and ran a small shop full of unique and Parisian antiquities. It felt odd in a way but it gave him a bit of excitement while allowing him to continue to live the life he was used to.

Pulling out his small traveling paint kit, he took to painting the pair of blondes that stood before one of the paintings. They both looked like dolls though one was more feminine than the other with a long braid hanging down as she talked animatedly about something he could barely make out. The conversation led to her leaving and the other blonde remaining in front of the painting, taking it in.

So he started to work, roughing out gestures of the smaller figure that was dressed in a similarly fashionable style to his own. Even as they moved, he’d gotten enough of a start to work from there. Turning his attention down to the tiny canvas, he began to lay down the underpainting with the small included brush. The whole thing was no bigger than his hand and had seen years of use. It was more than enough for these slice of life paintings that he did. Moments frozen in time, gone but not forgotten. If he never learned their name or goals, it didn’t matter. He had the moment saved on paper to think about and make theories over.

If anyone at his shop asked though, they were for sale. He liked to hold on to them, to make up tales and lives for them all. Anything to brighten up the normal day to day that seemed to bog people down. There was light in the little things, those moments where people met and words were exchanged. There was so much magic in this city and he wanted to know all about it.

He’d finished the underpainting, checking it over carefully but as he looked up the subject was gone at least until he heard a voice. Offering a smile he nodded as he settled the small brush into his kit and closed it. He’d have to wait for this later to dry before continuing anyway. Seeing their face up close though, he’d have to adjust a bit now that he had a better reference.

“There’s always inspiration in this city, it’s what drew me here but, I think the people are what keep me here.” The accent was there, it always would be but it had worked in his favor while meeting people. Everyone was interested in the fresh new face from a faraway land, just as he’d been excited to see if the rumors of people from here were wrong. So far things had gone well, no robberies or break-ins to his small store. If anything it had been quaint, with curious people coming in and asking about the equally curious goods he carried.

Adjusting on the bench to allow for them to sit if they wanted, he straightened up and stretched a bit. “It’s nice here, peaceful even. Do you find the art inspiring as well?”

Leaning his head on his palm he continued to look up at them, wondering about what kind of life they led. His eyes sparkled at they mentioned that they painted, he enjoyed seeing how one expressed themselves. Twisting a piece of his hair in his finger for a moment he thought about other ways to make his stay here a bit more permanent. “How do they say it, Virginia is for lovers? It reminded me of home, of Versailles. Though I have explored a bit of this wild west country as it seems, it’s so diverse here.”

Taking in the sounds of the people who wandered around them, paying no mind to the two of them conversing as they’d both kept their volume to a quiet enough level, he flipped open his kit again and turned to some of the other small paintings he had done of the city and its people. “There are so many people here, so many stories and lives all bundled up in a city that seems full of history, and maybe a little magic? I wonder if this is just how tourists feel or if there is anything to it.” A bit of a mumble to himself at the end as he offered the small kit up for the blonde to view. It was turned into a small gouache painting of the night sky, one he’d done his first night in the city. “It seems they are so bright here even with all the lights in the city.”

Smile widening as they switched to his language, it sounded good, better than the usual butchered attempts his customers had tried when reading over the names of artists or makers of the items in his shop. French came naturally, fluidly to him as he answered in kind with a flirtiness to his words. “I came here for many reasons but it would be fun to find love I think.” It was nice to fall back into the familiarity of his own language even if he’d left France to find something new to get his mind off what had happened.

Pulling the kit back he flipped it shut again, he’d work more on his newest painting later when the subject wasn’t watching. It felt a bit invasive to be watched by the one he was painting, it took a bit of the fun out of things too. It wasn’t as candid if they knew about things, it let people put up walls or portray themselves in a different light. Not that those different versions weren’t interesting in their own way, he just liked the idea of seeing things as they were and working up a story from there.

“Thank you though, I have been painting for a long time. As for Paris, I grew up there and the magic has long since faded. I thought it was time to break free from it and explore new places, and new people, and maybe find a different place to settle down. But who’s to say? However, I am pleasantly surprised to find someone who speaks my language so well here. What’s your name? Mine is René.” Last names weren’t as important and his own was tied to a history he’d rather not explain. Motioning for them to have a seat, he put his kit away inside his small bag.

“Ah, you’re rooted here as well? Much as I was back home.” At least until situations changed and there was no longer a home to return to. Continuing on, he noticed a few things here and there that were rusty but didn’t point them out. “You speak it well, I think I quite like that. Your name though, are you sure there isn’t a little French in there? I like it.”

Noticing that the museum was starting to fill with students, he watched as some of them took over the other benches to work on projects. Perhaps it was a field trip or just something that had been planned as an after-school program. “You seem very interesting, I’d like to know more but it is getting a bit crowded. If you’d like to stop by my shop, it’s not far from here?” Getting up, he pulled a business card from his satchel and handed it over to Alexandre.

“See you soon?” Offering a small wave he headed out between the crowd.