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WHO: Laurent of Vere | OTA
WHERE: Heropa, Flordia
WHEN: 07/10
WHAT: Working, not working, generally being beautiful and annoying etc.
WARNINGS: Sexual insinuation. And probably Laurent in general.

a.

[ His popularity with both employer and customers alike is a double-edged sword.

His sales are certainly well enough received that he and Damen will not have to share an apartment with strangers for much longer. That had been enough of an encouragement to do this thing right, even if he were more used to leading a company of men than giving a sales pitch. But it also means there are certain requirements made of him. Which is why, right now he is standing inside one of Heropa's larger malls, a stall beside him and a captive audience in front of him. At least they have the decency to hang a little back, though not without looking a bit like circling vultures as they do so.

Personal massagers. That is his ware for the day.

They're actually quite tame in comparison to some of the things he's seen inside other stores. They're meant for medical reasons, he assures his slowly gathering crowd as he rattles off the company spiel. And yet the first time he'd seen the cylindrical ones he could almost have envisaged the frenzy in Vere's pets were they to get their hands on them. Human beings are perverse in nature. They see something well shaped enough and they are quick to wonder which orifice it belongs in.

But his smile is almost sweet and with his youthful countenance he comes across as innocence personified. It's why his next words always win over the desperate ones. ] But really, we know what they're truly good for, don't we?

[ He picks up the nearest wand-shaped massager and flicks the switch elegantly. It hums obscenely. There is a daringness in the tension now.

And then Laurent is turning it back off, taking his place behind the stall where he can reach the customer order form. He does have a home to buy, and so he's all business when the first person approaches his table. ]

Yes?

[ There is one thing about Florida that he knows.

And it's that it is the worst place he could ever imagine being. It's too hot, and for a man who spends his days with 90% of his skin covered, it is not ideal. But he's careful not to let it show when he knows he's being watched. This afternoon though, he is exhausted. The mall had been clammy and over-crowded, the majority of the people dull-eyed and stupid looking. He longs for the cool air of Arles or for the mountains at the border. What shade he can get from the awning above the cafe is minimal. Even his posture is a little more hunched than usual, gaze wavering on the newspaper before him. His water - bottled, still capped - has begun sweating. He would even he thinks, a little ridiculously and potentially heat-stroked, take a chiton right about now.

With that madness brewing, Laurent sighs, reaches out to his water, and with two fingers pressed to the plastic he finds that strange vein where his power resides. The bottle crackles as the ice forms a layer around it, a temperature he is sure would be painful, were he not in possession of this strange gift. When satisfied, he unscrews the top with a sound like a branch snapping and takes a long drink.

It isn't as soothing as he likes, and with irritation blooming beneath his ribs he flips the pages of the paper to the classifieds. A pen is plucked from his breast pocket and then with vicious savagery, Laurent crosses out every Floridian apartment for let. If he could escape this whole damn continent, he would. ]

[ The evenings are a little better, though the air could have a lot more to say for itself. Laurent is at least no longer considering waging war on an American capital simply because he finds it abhorrent. It is a lot easier to explore when the sun has set and he doesn't have to worry about melting away into nothingness.

So he's still out, picking his way around a park. It looks like a nice stroll, but Laurent is watchful and considering throughout. Another thing that can be said for Florida is that her city buildings are too high to climb and that's inconsiderate. He could maybe scale a palm tree, in a pinch, but then he'd be stuck and what good would that be? He does spend a long moment examining the area though, which is how he becomes aware of whoever's paused when wandering past. ]

If you've come to rob me, I'd reconsider. [ Another pause, his gaze moving from treeline to lamppost. ] And no, I would not like to hear about your lord and savior.

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[ Damen steps forward in the crowd. There's amusement in his eyes. He doesn't know if Laurent has actually seen him yet, though he wouldn't put it past him. He's been aware of what Laurent's job is since they arrived here, but this is the first time he's seen him actually making a pitch. No wonder they've been flush enough to start looking for apartments. Damen can see the charm in action.

But that doesn't mean he's above just a little bit of teasing.

He raises his hand. ]

My lover has a terrible habit of holding tension between his soldiers. My hands are willing, but perhaps your massager would help.

Would you recommend it?

[ There is little way of hiding Damen in a crowd. He towers over most people regardless of where he is. Laurent had managed so far to not look at him for fear he might do something ridiculous like launch himself into his arms, but he cannot exactly ignore an asked question. Had he known being in love felt so maddening, he mightn't have allowed it.

( No, he wouldn't have had a choice. He knows that. He had no choice in the first place. )

He lets his gaze linger on his lover in a rather obvious way, examining him from the top of his head and all the way down. There's little familiarity there, except perhaps to the man who knows him. The light in his blue eyes is bright and when he tips his head it's a deliberately gentle gesture. ]

I'm sure your lover would rather your hands be otherwise occupied.

[ There's a startled laugh in response to the honey sound of his voice, a group of elderly women who look shocked that they've reacted. Laurent traces a fingertip over a massager that looks like a showerhead and then moves to a different one altogether. It's almost like a shawl. ] We recommend these for shoulder and back problems. The kneading rollers are particularly popular. [ A pause, assessing. ] And it would leave you free for more appealing activities.

[ He has never been stressed in his life, Damen!! ]

[ Damen almost feels sorry for the women, and for the other onlookers. These people barely know what they're dealing with. Laurent, in such fine form, is capable of far more lascivious behaviour than this. ]

This one?

[ He lifts the strangely shaped machine, and runs the rollers over his hand. He tries, and fails, to keep the amusement from his face. There's a part of him that's very keenly imagining Laurent spread on the bed below him, while he works these rollers over him, and massages the tension from his shoulders.

Never stressed in his life. There's never been more of a lie.

But Damen knows it, and he loves him. ]

I think it would. I wonder, is there a model that would let me keep my hands free? I've heard they can make all kinds of things these days.

[ There is a difference between being scandalous and causing a scandal. He knows it, which means he's careful. This isn't a court where his vicious tongue needs to be used as a weapon, nor a bedroom endeavour that somehow invites an audience. Laurent enjoys the work and the finances it provides and stays very carefully on the right side of the line.

It wouldn't do to get fired because some old dear had a heart attack.

But he still lets himself look at Damen from under his golden eyelashes. His smile keeps threatening to shake off it's polite frame and turn into something genuine. He returns to the shawl like object and lifts it up speculatively. ] Perhaps you would like a demonstration. [ His attention moves to the width of Damen's shoulders and then changes his mind, reaching for a larger version of it. His slight smirk causes another round of laughter. ] We don't often have men as broad as you, but --. [ With more care than a stranger would warrant, Laurent drapes the somewhat heavy massager over his shoulders. He does not think it will irritate his scars - a thought which once more catches him unawares and leaves his chest a little aching. He cannot show it though. The straps he gives a little tug. ] Hands, here. [ When Damen obliges he leans in a little closer to get to the buttons that turn it on. It starts off slowly, lightly, the mechanics of it rolling over Damen's muscles.

He looks ridiculous.

He looks like the most beautiful thing Laurent has ever seen. ]

Of course, that means your partner would not have his hands free, but sometimes that is the appeal. [ More laughter, as Laurent uses the angle of Damen's body to press a hand to his side unseen. It's a gentle thing, and fleeting as he takes a step back. ]

What do you think?

Edited 2016-10-18 13:47 (UTC)

[ Damen moves closer, amusement still dancing in his eyes. But then Laurent grows more daring, places the massager against him and lets it work. Damen's hands move where they're told, as they are wont to do when he is around his lover. The feeling of the device is unexpected; it shudders into his muscles, making his shoulders instinctively roll. He can feel tension draining out of him, though he had not known it was there at all.

Damen's back is a mess of scarring, and he knows it. Paschal's influence means that the wounds had healed well, that they do not overly restrict his movement. He's grateful for that, and it's what matters most. He doesn't care how they look.

But their presence means his back is always more sensitive than he admits, and always more prone to ache. The machine feels good. Unexpectedly so. He feels Laurent touching him and wants to move into it, wants to pull him close. He holds back, but his eyes are softer now, and he has less of an awareness of the crowd. He should not have done this. He should not have tried to tease Laurent. This is a game that Laurent will always, inevitably, win. ]

I...think that my partner would enjoy this. It feels better than I thought. Much better.

[ There's a murmur of approval around the crowd, who of course are watching all of this. Several of them move closer, examining the offerings on the table. ]

I will take one for him. Thank you. For the demonstration.

[ Kid is often out in the evenings, on patrol as it were, although Heropa had far less casual crime than Maurtia Falls on the average basis. But with the recent appearance of superpowers among this world's natives -- particularly since a good portion of them were moved to crime rather than protecting -- the young shinigami was pulling extra duty in keeping an eye out after dark.

He'd stopped when he found someone surveying the area quite studiously, but the man's remarks had him relax slightly and incline his head to respond. ]

Then you're in luck, since I don't do either of those things. I was just wondering what it was about that tree that had you staring so intently at it. Are you lost?

[ He turns and there's something very careful about his movements. Laurent doesn't slouch or slide his feet. His hands clasp behind him carefully and there's a look of vague amusement on his face.

Contrary to popular belief, he enjoys meeting the people here. ]

Not lost.

Merely assessing. I like to know the lay of the land I'm in. [ Even if he does not intend to stay in Florida much longer. ]

[ Kid not only notes, but appreciates good posture, and Laurent will find it largely mirrored in the black and white suited young man. ]

You must be one of the newer arrivals, then. I'd say welcome to Heropa, but that seems a little unwelcome in itself, given the circumstance of getting pulled here.

I do not mind it.

Not a single one of us asked to be here, and yet here we are. We should not do anyway with politeness entirely because we did not choose it.

[ His politeness is always slightly superficial. He knows how to work an audience and there is an element of game playing. But there is no need for thinly veiled insults here. ]

Is this your home city?

You'd be surprised how refreshing that sort of thinking can be.

[ Kid shakes his head, glancing around the park. ]

No, not Heropa. I've been a resident of Maurtia Falls the whole time I've been here. But I spend a good deal of time in all of the Porter cities.

[ Fortunately for Kid, he has not found Laurent in the kind of mood where he wants to goad everyone into a fight. He actually feels personable today. ]

Maurtia Falls. [ He wants to leave Florida as soon as he is able and that was certainly one of the options. But he has rumours of its imPort animosity. ] Do you like it there? I was led to believe it is not exactly friendly to outsiders.

That perception isn't entirely accurate anymore. The new ambassador has been working to "clean up" the city and its image, and Maurtia Falls certainly is more hospitable than it was two years ago. I would say it's not less tenable than any of the Porter cities.

[ His information is lacking, it would seem. ]

Which ambassador is this?

[ If it's Lucy he would rather not. ]

Ambassador Petyr Baelish, he was elected at the end of June by a relatively strong margin, if I recall correctly. One of his campaign promises was that he would make a significant improvement in the crime rates that had previously made Maurtia Falls more dangerous.

[ Of course, Baelish isn't eliminating the criminal underworld so much as he's taking it over, but Kid doesn't know that. On the surface, the ambassador is doing exactly what he'd promised he'd do. ]

[Up above there is a bird.

That bird is watching Laurent carefully, tipping his head to watch him talk to whoever it is that's wandering past. Ronan, being Ronan, has been in what can only be described as a foul fucking mood, and hey, this guy seems like kind of a jerk.

He hops closer, then flies so he's on the lamp post just as Laurent looks at it. He cocks his head.]

Rob him.

[Look, his vocabulary is a little limited here. the person walking by is spooked, and hurries off.]

[ Laurent's sharp gaze finds the bird and narrows. He has seen several different kinds of avian creatures that could repeat pretty phrases. But they were usually bright and pleasant to look at.

This one looks like a carrion bird. ]

I have nothing for you.

[ He turns slightly, to watch the one who has scuttled away. ]

[Chainsaw lands next to him and there they are, two large ravens, staring.

And then Ronan opens his mouth and lets out a series of caws that make it sound like he's laughing. It's both unattractive and utterly frightening.]

King, king, king.

[He doesn't know. He's just picking a topic he actually knows the guy blathered about. If he can't be a spooky bird now when can he do it?

Chainsaw imitates Ronan, they're like two assholes high on being jerks.]

[ Thankfully, Laurent is not easily frightened. He has seen far worse things than two unfriendly birds. It's the word that has him interested though. He has been careful here. He has yet to be crowned in Vere and the title does not yet belong to him. But there is no doubt the cawing is a title.

He purses his lips, then gives a little bow. There is no one around to see him.

But he has other engagements and providing an audience to two ravens is not one of them. So he lets his glance linger only a moment longer before he starts to walk away. ]

[They fly after him, and then start hopping after him. Why?

Because they're jerks, and because Ronan is bored and lonely.]

[ He gets to the park gate before curiosity gets the better of him. Laurent turns on his heel once more to regard the two angry looking birds. ]

I have nothing for you.

[ He imagines they eat some kind of seed. Which he is not prone to carrying. ]

[They look at each other and burst into a cackle of laughter.]

[ It is officially unnerving.

Laurent lets out a sigh, rolling his eyes quickly after. He will not be disturbed by a pair of birds. He has faced worse. His step is neat as he turns back to the direction of his home. At least he will have a tale to tell Damen. ]

[ Yeah, this is just after Laurent had a robbing whatever conversation with someone...because whumph, the Doctor lands on the ground with a THUD. It seems he did scale a palm tree and managed to not hold onto his grip as securely as he thought.

Almost instantly he hops back to his feet, dusting off dirt from his velvet suitcoat, before...oh wait. It's that guy. Ew, he doesn't want to talk to that guy. Thanks to the rule of comedic timing and general Time Lord hardiness, he's perfectly fine. Just...trying to regain his dignity. ]

Oh. Hello there!

[ Laurent's mouth twitches, just slightly, and then the hint of amusement is swept free from his face. He regards the Doctor as cooly as he had over the network. ]

Hello.

[ Glancing from him to the palm tree he's just fallen from. ]

Seeing the sights?

Seeing the stars. It's a hobby of mine, stargazing. Tonight's supposed to be a good night for Aquila, but I think all this stupid light pollution's ruining my fun.

[ Said as he shoots a glare over to a nearby lamppost, as if the lamp could understand just how put out he was. ]

[ Usually there is a level of animosity between Laurent and this man. Usually, but he finds himself avoiding the search for an insult and instead directing his gaze to the sky. ]

I still look to the sky for direction only to be incapable of recognising it. [ He would have navigated that way, if maps were unavailable. ] But now people find their way through their screens. It is convenient, if a little disheartening.

Where would it be, if you could see it?

Right over there, [ The Doctor says, gesturing to a space of darkness. There's a bit of a pause. He doesn't like Laurent. But at the same time, the Doctor's a man who when he first arrived here, started comparing the stars, so he can't help but feel a little twinge of familiarity at Laurent looking to the sky. ]

That one's Venus, [ he says, as he points to a bright spot in the sky. ] Ursa Major. [ point ] Ursa Minor. The bright star at the end of Ursa Minor's called Polaris or the North Star. Cause of it's declination, it always appears due north in the sky.

We have a star like that, though it is not called the same thing.

[ He remembers the first time he and Auguste had gone camping. Not far from the palace, and not without armed guards. But it had felt exciting. His brother had spent hours teaching him the constellations up ahead. He remembers how earnest he had been, as he told him which ones to follow were he ever lost.

Laurent does not know if he will ever be able to think of him without pain, clasping his hands behind his back as he examines each one above. ]

I imagine to see them clearly you have to leave the city?

You do. [ The Doctor said, with a nod. And then, because he knows he just can't say 'because light pollution' he starts to explain. ]

You know what it's like when you're in a dark room, you blow out a candle, you can't see much at first, but when you wait a while your eyes start to be able to pick out things in the darkness? Picture that, but with the entire city. Even if they turned off all the streetlamps, it'd take a while for our eyes and the sky to adjust so that we could see all the stars.

[ The Doctor knows explanations aren't his forte but hey, might work. ]

And people choose to live like this?

[ Vere was glittering and rich in its opulence, but Laurent could still look from his window and see the shape of the moon when he felt like it. And he knows it will be the same when he gets home, though his kingdom might take some shaping up. ]

Why have the sky only to blot it out?

[ He has liked the stars. He might learn these ones. ]

[ The Doctor simply shrugs. ]

Some people do. Some people don't. You can still find places in this Earth, outside of the cities, where you can look up at night and see all sorts of stars.

As for why to blot it out? Probably because convenience. The ability to see where you're going with lights won out over to see where you're going with stars.

[ The Doctor's explaining things very matter of factly, not passing judgement on either side. He knows where Laurent stands on this debate, but he can see both sides to stars vs. lights. The large stellar cascade viewed from the Alpha Centuri Orbital was just as impressive as the bright lights and glittering streets of New New New York, but for vastly different reasons. ]

[ He wonders if he could get Damen to accompany him out beyond the city. The answer is presumably yes. It might be nice to remove themselves from the noise of the city. Neither of them are used to it. ]

I suppose you are right.

[ It's a Christmas miracle, Doctor. Enjoy it. ]

It is easier than trying to light a lamp. But then you lose half the beauty of the world. The cities can be a little cold. [ And if there's one thing he knows it's a chill in the air. ]

That's why you travel.

[ The Doctor can't help but smile a little at this. The thought of travel just relaxes him. After all, he's not one who can stay still for far too long. ]

Traveling's something that so many different people in this world do, just to get away from the lights and the bustle for a little bit.

Your best bet is likely Maurtia Falls, [ comes the doubtlessly familiar voice, and mahanon invites himself into the chair across from the other man, setting down the bag he was carrying. maddeningly, despite the heat and mahanon's long sleeves, he doesn't look as if he's sweating. maybe it's an elf thing or a mage thing or.. maybe he just hides it extremely well. ] It's cooler up north-- more what I'm accustomed to, really.

[ it's not as if it's difficult to guess what's on laurent's mind, after all, with his long clothes and irritation, as well as the vicious way he'd started marking through what mahanon has to assume is rent ads. the man had mentioned wanting to move he and his lover out of a space shared by other people, and mahanon certainly can't blame him for that.

he offers a small, warm smile, then digs through his pockets, pulling out what looks like a small stone etched with.. some sort of rune, maybe. he offers it out on his palm, then, and if laurent takes it, it'll be chilled to the touch.. and actually spread that chill to the rest of his body. ]

It's just a temporary spell. I don't use it very often because it's a bother to re-cast, but you're welcome to use this one if you like.

[ Were it anyone else, Laurent's withering glance would have been enough to stop them stone dead. As it is, he likes Mahanon and his conversations with him have always been pleasant. He reins it in as soon as he recognises the elf. ]

That's why I'm refusing to look anywhere closer.

[ Because yes, he wears too many layers and refuses to remove any of them while in public. The heat, the insects, the very stupid people. They're all too much and he wants out as soon as possible.

His attention is pulled from the newspaper to the stone though. Laurent's curiosity has always been a wild thing. Likely, he should not just touch strange magic rocks, but he's always yearned to understand the world. And so he takes it, careful not to touch his friend's palm. Surprise flickers across his face as the cold follows, blessed relief coming in it's wake. ] You did this?

[ He examines it closer, holding it up to the light. ] I should be able to produce a kind of armour. That's what my file tells me. But it did not seem ... appropriate outside the battlefield.

I don't blame you. Every time I come south in this world, I remember why I do it so rarely. [ though he's discovered that air-conditioning and central heat are near-miraculous gifts this world offers. ] If you like, I could keep an eye out in my neighborhood for rentals. It's quiet and people seem to keep to themselves, though I don't know how it compares to other neighborhoods, really. [ it's not like he ever spent much time living amongst humans before the mess at the temple and now being in this world.

the surprise on laurent's face earns a quick, pleased grin. ] It's a trick I learned a few years ago from my Keeper. It's not especially convenient, given the magic that goes into it and how quickly the spell fades, but it comes in handy now and then. [ northern summers in thedas are miserable, and his clan spends more time in the north than mahanon especially enjoys.

the comment earns an interested glance, though, and the elf folds his arms lightly across the top of the table, giving the other man a curious glance. ] --Made of ice? Have you tried using it yet?

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→ ( OPEN - Last night when I was sleeping, I had a dream my body was a boat )

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