Another day in the life [Damien]

[ixabelle]

[atrb=border,0,btable][atrb=style,width: 350px; padding: 0 5 20 10; background: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2v3gcup.jpg);] [atrb=cellpadding,0][atrb=cellspacing,0][style=background-color: #fff; padding: 3px;] [/style] [atrb=style,width: 315px;][atrb=cellpadding,0][atrb=cellspacing,0][style=background-color: #fff; border-top-style: dotted; border-top-color: #e5e5e5; opacity: 0.7; font-size:9px; line-height:11px; font-family:helvetica; font-color: #222222; text-align:center;]Words; 543; Tagged; Damien (Tiana)[/style] [style=background-color: #ffffff; opacity: 0.7; overflow: auto; width: 315px; height: 400px; padding: 7px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; color: #222222; text-align: justify;]DATE ○ September 13th TIME ○ Right around 1:00 PM WEATHER ○ The clouds have come to ruin what would otherwise have been a warm September day. As it is, it's a little chilly in the absence of the sun. Definitely jacket weather. --------------------- Ixabelle didn't know if she liked or hated Uptown society. It had nothing to do with money; sure, she mostly saved hers, but she didn't begrudge those who had enough to spend freely the right to do so. Some people were born into good situations, some bad. It wasn't right to blame others for the lives fate had given them. However, the attitude some of the people had was something she could, and did, blame them for. Ixee shrugged out of her uniform in the small dressing room of the cafe she worked at, preparing to leave for lunch. She probably could have just left it on, but she had an hour, and the uniform attracted more attention than she liked on the street. Not because of the cut of it, though the skirt was short and clean. It was more because of how people labeled her when she wore it. Lowly, worker, doesn't belong here. She'd seen the looks, and though it didn't bother her to an extreme degree, it was easier to just change and avoid them altogether. It had been chilly that morning, so her clothes for the day were slim jeans and a t-shirt, covered by a rather bulky, dark-blue sweatshirt. Stuff like that was the safest to walk home in if it was going to be late when she returned - the less appealing she looked, the less interest she'd draw. She didn't really look to fit into the high-class society, but she also wasn't seen as the 'help' this way. She closed her locker, tucked some loose blonde hairs that had escaped her bun behind her ears, and exited. She waved to the manager as she went out the back door. The crisp air hit her after the warmth of the stylish little cafe, and she stood for a minute to adjust, pushing her hands into the pocket of the hoodie. After a moment she started again, walking casually down the street toward a coffee shop she frequented on her breaks. It was busier than normal due to the cool air, and she took one of the last empty tables inside. Blue eyes scanned the customers as she propped her chin on her hand, elbow on the table. There were actually quite a few people like her, workers on their breaks. The majority were still upper-society men and women, though, taking a break from shopping or other menial tasks. The waiter came and she ordered a coffee, one cream, no sugar. She really wasn't a fan of sweet things. When it came, she was in no real hurry to drink it, wrapping her hands around the warm mug instead. This one cup of coffee cost more than three would nearer her home, but the quality was very different and worth the money paid, in her opinion. She sipped it idly, savoring the bitter, earthy taste. Her eyes lingered on the empty seat across from her. She probably could've invited Sarah or Miska to come, but her co-workers often asked her to go out with them after work, or something of the sort, whenever she invited them places. And she wasn't interested in telling them no yet again. "Hmmmm..." she vocalized, almost a quiet groan. Not heard by anyone else, but a clear sign of her frustration at people in general. Why couldn't they just take what she offered without asking for more? [/style]

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[damien]

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[bg=2d5173] Now that class was over for Damien, he finally lifted his head off the table, away from the notebook he was idly doodling in a few minutes prior and looked around, hearing the shuffle of shoes and the scuffs of the books as they were dragged off the table. Beside him, his buddy slapped in the back of his head and draped the light blue scarf over his hair as a goodbye before he, too departed, leaving the raven-haired male to slowly move to a stand and snatch his books, stuffing it into the messenger bag before throwing on the leather jacket over the blue plaid shirt he wore. He slung the strap over his shoulder, then grabbing the scarf, wrapping it casually over his neck as he trailed over the remaining flock of students as they headed outside. One hand grasp the strap of the bag, the other running through his hair and over the fringes of his bangs as he moved down the hall and out of the building, seemingly intent on avoiding any talk with anyone that was around him, friend or not. The afternoon sun greeted him, followed with a rush of the whispering winds. He narrowed his eyes slightly before bending his head forward and taking a sharp left, only pausing to nod at several students who greeted him. He was, it seemed to him anyways, well dressed for the occasion- a simple day of heading to class and home didn't call much more then jeans, a hoodie and his bag, and to be honest it wasn't often that he bothered to wear anything more formal then that. And, admittedly, there wasn't any real reason as to why there was a sudden change in his attire other then that he had intended to head to work today downtown; but after receiving a call that said his presence wasn't needed, his schedule abruptly changed and instead he decided to take a trip uptown, for their more famous coffee, and a few tasks that he had dedicated himself to do before he forgot about it. His dark combat boots crunched the leaves on the concrete as he quickly made his way down the entrance of the building and out to the parking lot, where a black, gleaming Kawasaki Ninja ZX-6R greeted him. He let out a sigh as he threw a leg over the bike and settled himself in, backing it out of the stall before he turned the engine over and roared out of the campus, heading north, where a sweet little cafe shop, the one that had a few parking places lining the streets (that way, due to pure laziness, he wouldn't have to walk far). As always the hustle and bustle of the big city wasn't an ideal place to get a bike, and even less idealistic to find a space, fifteen minutes later, he had done just that, finding himself pushing the quaint glass door as he entered and strode up to the front counter, ordering himself two shots of coffee. He leaned forward, smiling slightly at the waitress before his icy blue eyes scanned the shop for some sort a familiar face. And, not surprisingly, as his calculating orbs landed on Ixabelle, the corners of his lips twitched absently before he turned away, paid for the drink and made his way over to the empty seat that seemed to be staring at in an longing manner. He quirked a thin brow as his hand rested on the top of the seat. 'Ixabelle,' he uttered smoothly. 'Do you mind some company?' he inquired. Normally, it would have made his closer friend cringe on his selection of words- but unlike most of his friends, she wasn't as open and as... rambunctious; but clearly because of her stoic manner, her personality was bearable. TAGGED: Ixabelle DATE,TIME: 9/13, 1:00 WEATHER: cloudy and chilly [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,399,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true]

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[ixabelle]

[atrb=border,0,btable][atrb=style,width: 350px; padding: 0 5 20 10; background: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2v3gcup.jpg);] [atrb=cellpadding,0][atrb=cellspacing,0][style=background-color: #fff; padding: 3px;] [/style] [atrb=style,width: 315px;][atrb=cellpadding,0][atrb=cellspacing,0][style=background-color: #fff; border-top-style: dotted; border-top-color: #e5e5e5; opacity: 0.7; font-size:9px; line-height:11px; font-family:helvetica; font-color: #222222; text-align:center;]Words; 500; Notes; D-d-d-derp. Sorry for how crappy these are, I'm still getting into the swing of human roleplay ^^;[/style] [style=background-color: #ffffff; opacity: 0.7; overflow: auto; width: 315px; height: 400px; padding: 7px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; color: #222222; text-align: justify;]DATE ○ September 13th TIME ○ Right around 1:00 PM WEATHER ○ The clouds have come to ruin what would otherwise have been a warm September day. As it is, it's a little chilly in the absence of the sun. Definitely jacket weather. --------------------- Ixabelle didn't notice when her sometimes-lunch-partner walked into the shop, even when she was normally spent her time alone people-watching. She had turned to gaze past the chair across from her and over the heads of the people to the window beyond, not really paying attention to what was happening around her. It wasn't until a body blocked her view and words shattered her silent bubble that she notice him, eyes traveling up to the face of her visitor. Damien, the man who she met most often just like this, randomly in the cafe. She took her elbow off the table and leaned back, shaking her head in the process. "No, of course not," she said, her voice pleasant enough but no smile coming to her lips. Not because of any feeling toward him, but because that's just how she was. He would understand that, though, and that was one of the reasons she enjoyed him being around. She got some company without fake cheerfulness and false smiles. And he never pried - neither of them was especially interested in the intimate life of the other. She took another sip of her coffee, watching him over the rim. He was attractive, she wouldn't lie. She'd also found him to be a relatively nice guy once she'd gotten used to him and grew comfortable in his presence. However, she would never pursue anything between them even if she was the type. She had no special feelings for him beyond casual friendship, and to her knowledge, he felt the same. "Are your classes over for the day, then?" she asked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. When she looked at Damien, she sometimes got a flash of 'what could have been.' He was older than her by a few years and went to college, though it was art-specialized. She would never have gotten far in terms of art, but the college part... well, sometimes it could be weird. She didn't regret holding off college in order to help her family financially, but seeing people she'd gone to school with leaving for university had been an odd thing. And seeing them now, on their way to careers that would take them higher, made her feel a little low. It wasn't a thought that normally pervaded her mind around him, but her own question had awakened odd stirrings in the back of her mind. None of these thoughts crossed her face, though - she was skilled at hiding what she was thinking. It was a key skill for a waitress, after all, and the thoughts were mostly in passing. She didn't say anything else to him, blowing lightly on her coffee instead, though she still watched him. Sometimes they talked when they met up, sometimes that just took a break in silence. She'd leave it to him to decide what today would be like. He seemed to be in a good mood, but you could never really tell, could you? [/style]

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[damien]

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[bg=2d5173] Damien let out a short nod before sliding the bag off his shoulders and dropping it to the ground, sliding the chair out from under the table as he sat down in one smooth move. He crossed his legs and leaned back, almost slouching in the seat as he propped an elbow on the back frame of the wooden chair. One arm held on to the warm cup as he placed it on the surface in front of him before lifting the cup to his lips and taking a short drink. His icy eyes were lowered to the white lid as she spoke. And, while there were no words of significant meaning, other then just being polite, the words came out with seemingly no emotion; between both of them, things were always kept short and sweet- Damien preferred not to confide his secrets nor frustrations on her and in turn she didn't do it to him- to an outside, their relationship was rather dull and awkward- never going out into a more social event then 'coffee' and never an real social interactions other then idle chatter, or, at times, a comfortable silence. In fact, nothing really kept them bound as friends other then a thin string of tolerance. He liked her because she wasn't was expressive and he could counter that she felt the same way. Crossing his ankle over his knee, his blue orbs flicked up to her face before a nod. 'Yes,' he replied, his lucid gaze sweeping the room, searching out details and colors with the same disinterested look on his face as he spoke. 'Now it's just work and studies until the next class. What about you? Major in anything?' Work was interesting- it was like his own personal project- it wasn't as insipid as he originally thought it would be, but then again, when a friend asks you to work- you would expect just inking a few people here and there, not setting up a website and promoting his little parlor. But as he said the words- he realized that she might not know of his job, he only knew she was a waitress because he used to frequent there. Actually, he wasn't even sure if he had told her what his job was- probably nothing more then blowing it off about 'working downtown' somewhere or 'commercial promotion'. It was what he told everyone else when they asked, it depended on what he was working on. As for the question that he shot at her, it was more of a brushing assumption. She was twenty, wasn't she? Or was it nineteen? She was younger then him, he knew that- but once out of college, most jumped into college, community, university or private. But it didn't matter what she said- it wasn't that he wasn't listening nor caring- he did- but he just wasn't the type to question something unless they needed to hear it. Looking out the window for a moment, he finally turned back to her. 'How's work been?' he countered absently, mostly out of sheer politeness. His eyes took in her appearance lazily- never judging. He wasn't a middle class citizen, he could afford the real perks of living in the city- however, besides indulging himself with the motorcycle, camera lens and tuition for classes, he never spoiled himself- at least not anymore. He took another drink, feeling the strong shots of the coffee starting to wake him up after his nap in the classroom earlier. TAGGED: Ixabelle DATE,TIME: 9/13, 1:00 WEATHER: cloudy and chilly [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,399,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true]

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