|
|
Post by ROMAN JULIAN CROSS on Jul 18, 2012 17:30:50 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 366x; height: 190px; padding: 10px; background-color: #dcd4c7; border: #eae4d8 10px solid;]
i never face the music when it's dire sleep was for the weak. that was a lesson that roman had learned earlier that morning and at some point last night when he realized that there wasn't going to be any sleep going on. today was his first attempt to sell some of his artwork here in america: los angeles, no less. he'd been here a few months, sure, and he might have sold a thing or two here or there, but there was a completely different atmosphere, a completely different feeling when you were in a public place trying to sell some of your pieces. it was exhilarating. then again, roman found a lot of things exhilarating, so this was just another for the list. one thing that certainly wasn't helping was the coffee he was swigging every so often. it didn't calm him down in the slightest, but maybe he didn't need to be calm. maybe he needed to be enthusiastic and outgoing- like a salesman. he'd be a bad salesman, though, which could present a problem. instead of lingering on the idea, though, roman set his coffee on the ground next to his chair, looking anxiously at the people traveling about. it wasn't easy to judge which of them might stop, might be interested in his art, but he assumed if there was somebody who was, they'd stop. he had, after all, set up his own station for his paintings- no drawings today.
while he waited for something, anything to happen, he entertained the idea of drawing a cigarette out for a smoke break, but that was illegal, and the last thing he needed today was trouble. he'd just have to resist the urge until he got back home, at which point onyx would just have to deal with the smoke hanging in the air. she'd get over it. earlier that day, she'd said something about how she may pay a visit to his "exhibit" after her photo-shoot was done and over with, but roman didn't want to get his hopes up. besides, she'd already seen a majority of his artwork, as was obvious by the number of times he'd gotten in trouble for leaving it in places that she found inconvenient. like the time he'd left his painting of a view of l.a. propped against the couch and onyx had almost managed to trip over it. or the time he'd left his portrait of adelaide on the coffee table and she'd managed to spill whiskey all over it... he still wasn't entirely convinced that was an accident, though. roman sighed to himself and stretched his arms up in the air briefly, humming a tune he couldn't remember the name of to himself. WORDS: 446 . TAGGED: LOLA . NOTES: AND I THOUGHT MY OTHER POSTS WERE BAD |
[/td][/tr][/table][/center] |
|
|
|
Post by LOLA ROSE TAMBLYN on Jul 18, 2012 21:11:38 GMT -5
and i breathe disaster, ever after don't pull away from me now | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: B8B8B8; border: #550505 solid 4px; width: 400px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] After the drama that unfolded that morning, Lola need to get out of her house. Though it was spacious and large, she felt trapped and choked in it frequently. Her next round of chemo was soon and she had argued that she didn't want to stay in the hospital as long as she had last time. Less of a chance for her to be seen there, for somebody to blab that Lola Tamblyn was in the hospital. Of course, her mom exploded that Lola needed time to recover and she wouldn't stand for it, no siree. Dad, ever the peacemaker, attempted to smooth things over and this time even he couldn't do it. Everyone had just needed time to cool off. Lola was sure her mother had told Xaiver about the whole thing, and that she spun it in a way that made Lola look like an ungrateful bitch. She always did.
Since her mother didn't have to work today and was not going to leave the house, Lola took it upon herself to bolt. She had thrown on a pair of short jean shorts and a tank top, and her golden key. Her hair flowed in waves down her back. She'd driven aimlessly for a few minutes until she decided that she might browse the flea market today. It sounded like a good plan, and who knows what she'd find here. She didn't come often, only when she honestly didn't have anything else to do. She parked her car and hit the lock button twice, making the car beep. She ignored a couple startled and annoyed looks; she didn't want her shit stolen, so she was going to lock the car. She didn't trust Los Angeles, probably for good reason.
Lola lost track of her time as she browsed and sometimes chatted with the people who were selling things. They were either really nice or they glared at you even when you bought something. Lola thought it rude and made sure they knew. The scowls on their face always deepened and she was shooed away. She didn't really mind. They didn't have anything worth buying, anyways.
After wandering a while she came to a station that featured paintings, with a guy about her age sitting in a chair, a coffee cup next to him. He wasn't looking her way, as she was looking at him at the side, and even in the hustle and bustle of the place she heard him humming a song. It made her smile. Many of the salespeople here weren't young, and honestly his face was pretty nice to look at. She approached him and tapped his shoulder softly, and she smiled.
"Hi, there." She said confidently. She wasn't nervous exactly to talk to him, but she was excited."You're pretty damn talented, but I'm sure you've been told that before, haven't you?" She said gesturing to some of his work, and then she smiled at him again. She held out a hand to him, her nails imperfectly manicured a dark blue, as the polish was chipping at the edges. "I'm Lola." She introduced herself to him. Maybe it wasn't too smart to tell a perfect stranger her name, but she didn't really care. He looked nice enough.
words; 539
tag; roman note; it is not bad man. |
[/td][/tr][/table][/center] |
|
|
|
Post by ROMAN JULIAN CROSS on Jul 19, 2012 12:43:36 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 366x; height: 190px; padding: 10px; background-color: #dcd4c7; border: #eae4d8 10px solid;]
i never face the music when it's dire think like a salesman. you're a telemarketer, roman told himself, feeling utterly ridiculous. did he really have to tell himself how to think in order to do this? really, all he had to do was pretend anybody that came by was his friend. he'd probably feel more comfortable that way, and then he could talk to them as normal. all it required was a little delusion, right? no time to waste thinking about it, though. instead, he took another drink of his coffee, examining the man that had stopped to look at his paintings. after he'd swallowed the lukewarm coffee, he got up from his chair, walking over to the man and smiling at him, hoping it looked more confident than he felt. in no time, they were talking about too many art-related things for roman to even remember them all. as the conversation came to a close, the man decided that he was going to buy something, and roman took back the seat he'd abandoned earlier. the man came over after he'd picked a painting, and they negotiated over the price for a few moments before he gave in and paid what roman wanted. the younger boy thanked him profusely and watched as he walked off. he picked up his coffee and took a drink, trying to ignore the strange feeling in his chest that always introduced itself when he sold some of his art. probably because, for roman, selling his art was basically the equivalent of giving his child up for adoption.
it didn't make any sense, because he could always paint more- even paint the same thing. it wasn't going to look exactly the same as its predecessor, of course, but maybe it would be even better. either way, it didn't matter because it wasn't the original. roman shook his head a bit to himself and went back to humming- he still couldn't remember the song for the life of him, but it didn't really matter. he was just passing time until another potential customer turned up. he didn't have to wait long, because soon enough, there was a tap on his shoulder, and he whirled to face the culprit. hey, she was pretty. no, really pretty. and introducing herself, telling him that he was talented. reflexively, he blushed, but shrugged a bit and took her outstretched hand, shaking it. "not really. i'm roman. like the empire." he still sounded different, but of course he did. he'd only been in the country for a few months- that wasn't nearly enough time to gain an american accent. "uh, nice to meet you, lola," he added, returning her smile. WORDS: 439 . TAGGED: LOLA . NOTES: FLAILS BECAUSE THIS THREAD IS NOT COOPERATING WITH ME |
[/td][/tr][/table][/center] |
|
|
|
Post by LOLA ROSE TAMBLYN on Jul 22, 2012 16:36:44 GMT -5
and i breathe disaster, ever after don't pull away from me now | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: B8B8B8; border: #550505 solid 4px; width: 400px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] The boy's blush didn't escape Lola's notice. She let go of his hand and looked faintly puzzled. "Really? No compliments? That's kind of surprising." She said with a grin, her flirtatious intentions obvious but still not obnoxiously so. She noticed his accent right away, and it made him all the more cute in her eyes. "Really, Roman? Your accent sounds Australian," It came out before she could stop it, and she covered her mouth with a surprised look on her face, like she couldn't believe that she'd said that. "Oh, god, I'm sorry. The things that come out of my mouth sometimes." She said, a little mad at herself for embarrassing her in front of this boy. He probably thought her just a starstruck teenage girl now, Smooth going, Lola.
She forced herself to brush it off and carry on."I'll just be... browsing. She told him, maybe even herself, and turned around to go look at what the boy was offering. One of his paintings in particular caught her eye; it was a cityscape, of what she could only guess was LA. The detail taken in all the little lights in the skyscrapers amazed her, and the moon was a bright dot in the dark blue night sky. She loved it, all the colors Roman had used, his attention to detail... she barely moved as she looked at it. Lola just stood there, gazing at his work. She wished she had that sort of artistic talent, but her art never really advanced past stick figures and square houses.
After a few minutes had passed another person, a man, walked up beside Lola and studied the same painting. Lola felt a surge of posessiveness that came from nowhere bubble up inside her, and she visibly tensed up. He looked thoughtfully at the painting for a moment and then walked over to Roman and told him he'd buy it for the 15 the boy was asking for. Lola walked over and smiled pleasantly.
"I'll take it for twenty," She countered. The man looked at Lola in shock, mumbling something about how this wasn't an auction. The man got back his composure and sported a stony look at Lola. "Twenty five," He said not even glancing at Roman. Lola put her hands on her hips and smiled slightly to the challenge.
"Thirty!" she said with a grin. This was now double Roman's original price.
"Forty." He said glaring straight into Lola's eyes. It just made her all the more determined to out price him. Her stubborness was shining through right now.
"Fifty." She said with an air of finality, looking at her nails as if to let him know that she wasn't afraid of any counter offers in the slightest. The guy looked aghast, and glanced at Roman as if to say no way I'm topping that, buddy. and stalked off. Lola crossed her arms triumphantly and was grinning wide. Then she realized that she didn't have that kind of money with her, and her confident air crumpled just a little as she looked at Roman.
"I...I, uh... don't actually have fifty on me..." She said shrugging sheepishly. "I do however have thirty. I can get the other twenty to you at a later date," She offered, with some selfish intentions behind it however; she wanted to see him at another time, and she wanted to see him more often. She smiled as she waited for an answer, hoping that she hadn't scared him with her... eagerness to buy his painting.
words; 586
tag; roman note; lola your weakness is showing~ |
[/td][/tr][/table][/center] |
|
