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After The Morning
 Rowan Earnshaw
· Artist
Posts: 10
(3/31/06 7:43 pm)
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Flesh on Canvas [Sage]
Clink clink clink, went the air conditioner sounding as old and of rusted metal as it actually was. Rowan almost thought there was something dead rattling around in it, like a dead mouse or something though in this building it was more like a giant rat. Lovely, was all he could think. Occasionally he wondered why’d he’d gone and traded the nice family home in the suburbs of England for a small city in the middle of America were he quite possible had a dead giant rat clattering about in his air conditioner. Though he reasoned that if something up there was dead he’d smell it sooner or later. Not actually the comforting thought it was supposed to be. Sitting at the small table in his kitchen rolling himself several cigarettes and drinking a nice cool bottle of beers he reflected briefly on how his life had changed, he survived mainly on smoking and drinking now a days, he’d even forgotten what the four main food groups were, hell he’d forgotten what food was half the time and even though he tended to live off beer he was losing more weight than he was putting on. His hair had been long and then suddenly he’d decided it was better off short with the damn heat that seemed to stay around the city all the time, no matter what the season and so off it had come and he was right, it had been better off short. But despite his thoughts seeming along the negative line, the artist found himself oddly content here in Jones City, known by the locals as Savage City a rather appropriate name for the city really, since it was far from a normal one defiantly not a tourist attraction at any rate.
Then again if they knew what really went on with the inner workings he was sure perverts of all kinds would be flying in to catch a glimpse of the old town girls, catch a glimpse or a night. Then again most of them probably wouldn’t last ten minutes in that section of the city, well probably not in any section of the city. He’d certainly had his own fair share of near misses, hell he even had a gun now, a gun he didn’t really know how to shoot, let along have good enough aim to hit someone. Then again he supposed it was always good to have something on hand just in case, though the nearest he got into serious trouble was being shot in old town which was not the nicest of experiences those girls seemed half ready to rip him to shreds and all he’d done was walk one of them home after they’d modelled for him. Something at the time he’d seen no harm in, until he got involved in the middle of god only knows what and ended up having to be sorted out by Sage and most likely saved him as well. He had a lot to thank that particular old town girl for, including the gun that sat on the table near were he was rolling his cigarettes. Bits of tobacco falling over the table top, the surface was chipped everything was old since he didn’t really have a lot of money to buy new things plus he didn’t really feel the need to have anything brand spanking new, since the only visitors to his flat were his models and the occasional women who was not modelling for him. People he’d met at Dee’s and such. Though that wasn’t often, he’d never been one for one night stands, flings those kinds of things.
The last of his cigarettes was finally rolled and he placed them all neatly in his cigarette tin, the front faded so much he couldn’t even remember the original design, nor care to remember it for that matter. Leaving one aside for himself to have, he popped the lid closed and left it on the table taking another long swig of his beer that finished off the bottle before picking up the freshly rolled cigarette, picking out the bits of tobacco that were sticking to much out the end before deciding on the right end and lighting it. It was basically a quick cigarette before going and getting his materials ready, he had a job today. That job was Sage. Another of his models and probably the main one, she always seemed to have a fair bit of influence in old town, well so he thought and unfortunately caused him a problem. It wasn’t that she was difficult model it was because plainly put, he’d done what he shouldn’t have done, he found himself rather attracted to her as a person. It was something he should have seen coming and nipped in the bud, since she was someone that was pretty much off limits. Well unless he had the right amount of money, but Rowan wasn’t interesting in having to pay for sex. Though finally the tall British man decided that he should move before she got to the flat and find him not exactly ready because he was too busy lingering within his own thoughts, smoking rising around him like a small cloud and the air conditioner clanking so much it really wasn’t working, making it so he’d left his shirt on but open so that his chest and stomach were revealed, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow to reveal his forearms.
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Snakecharms
Sage Galahad
· Old Town
Posts: 11
(4/2/06 3:09 pm)
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Re: Flesh on Canvas [Sage]
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It had rained brieftly as the sun was going down, casting its orange and red glow on the city. A rather well deserved color with the way things had been going lately. Murder and mayhem. The usual. Luckily enough the girls did a good enough job patroling the borders of their turf that most of the chaos didn't reach them. But there were times when it tried Sage's patience, especially since her line of work often brough her out of the safe haven that was Old Town, and to the offices and homes of the city's elite or plain over sexed. But they all paid up on their assigned days so she tried not to complain too much. Sage had worked long enough in Jones town so that her name was known to those that were intrigued by the dominance scene, making it so that she now had regulars, those she saw often or on a regular basis. It was much safer than waltzing over to a car on the sidewalk and sticking your head in.someone's passenger side window. But that's how they all got to where they are now, working their way up. Then at the same time some were quite at home getting their johns on the street corners and such. Which, as long as they carried the right amount of fire power, proved to be just fine. But when a man's needs were a bit more peculiar or were seen as 'fetish', that often took a special type of woman, one that knew what she was doing.
Stepping back outside after dropping off her gear she stamped out a cigarette on the damp street, her stilehto nearly slicing it in half. The darkness didn't take long to swallow Savage City whole. Sage often felt as if it was night longer than it was day sometimes, but that was more than likely due to the fact that during the day light hours she got most of her sleep. Opening the umbrella she made her way out onto the slick strees of Old Town, stepping through a small cloud of exhaust that some hunk of metal left behind while it cruised the streets, looking for its pick of the night. Her black tench coat covered most of her form, hiding her 'work attire' and allowing only her leg, clad in thigh high leather boots to peek out with each step. Though it lasted only till she got to her car which had seen better days, then again around these parts every car was in a desperate need of a facelift. Unlocking the door she slipped inside, noticing the rain droplets that had gathered on the windsheild since it had begun to rain near sundown. Now it only left a slight drizzle, enough to make the air seem a bit damn and humid. If Sage had actually been one of those women that cared she would've whined and complained aloud about the havoc it would cause her hair. But she didn't care. The car's air condintiong was broken so Sage ended up rolling the windows down, letting the damp air hit her hard in the face, as well as the smell of exhaust.
Rowan was now someone Sage considered a close friend. This day and age it really took alot for her to say something like that, there fore it meant that Rowan really was like one in a million. A talented artist, Sage felt that he was someone who really didn't belong in depths of Savage CIty. At least to her it was obvious that the man had a good heart and a good head on his shoulders, not to mention talent anyone would be jealosu over. Even Sage wished she could create some of the things he was able to with just a bit of coal and a canvas. He was a man that should've been in some rich city, if not Sacred Oats, doing portraits of the rich and famous. Yet here he was in the slums, a place that often made her nervous since she could already picture someone just trying to take advantage of him some how or some way. After parking she made her way inside to where it was light. Bipasing the elevator, mainly out of habit since it was usually out of order, she took the stairs, high heels clip clopping up the stair case. Though a job brought her here tonight it almost always was something she looked forward too. As if she was just coming over to hang out and drink a few cold beers with him over good conversation. But the fact that she was attracted to him also made the meetings they had worth while. Still Sage never did anything about it, never really made a move or opted to tell him the truth about what she really thought of him. With a career made out of beating men into submission actually expressing her feelings to Rowan proved to be a bit more tricky.
Passing a few neighbors she gave a slight devious grin as she walked to Rowan's door. To them she seemed to be there to service him like she regularly did with whatever was hidden beneath the trench coat. The Dominatrix never attempted to tell them any differently, allowing their imagination to run wild with what was about to go on behind the closed door. Sage banged on the door lightly, figuring he'd hear her since he no longer had Harry as a room mate to blast the place with loud music. .
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After The Morning
Rowan Earnshaw
· Artist
Posts: 26
(4/3/06 12:46 am)
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Re: Flesh on Canvas [Sage]
He’d decided to move; so he sat unmoving with the cigarette burning between his fingers and the cold beer slowly warming up near him, his art supplies weren’t ready and Sage would be here within the next couple of minutes, after all she was never one for being late something he noticed but figured it had more to do with the fact she was coming to him tonight to do a job more than anything else, though it wasn’t the sort of job his neighbours seemed to think which made him smile to himself sometimes, after all what an impression he must have left. A middle aged Englishman with lots of old town or girls with a reputation coming and going from his flat, they must have thought they had some sex starved pervert living on their floor or in the same building as them and since being a sex starved pervert was barely a crime in Jones City they couldn’t have tried to get him evicted. Though since Rowan knew he was far from a pervert and that he never laid a hand on the girls that came to his flat he wasn’t to bothered by the other resident of the buildings opinions of him and what went on. Then again there was off course the occasional moments where something would happen, a models had would go places it shouldn’t and suggestions were made and even though he was tempted and why the hell shouldn’t he be? He was a man after all, yet he always managed to resist. Insisting that he really didn’t go that far with the people who worked for him, especially since he paid them to model for him.
It would have just felt odd did anything else go on though occasionally he did wonder what would happen if one of the girls felt like being spiteful because he’d refused and gone back to old town to spread stories about things he may have possibly done. Rowan figured it wasn’t healthy to wonder or concern him with such possibilities he would just have to trust that the models he used didn’t take offence by him saying no, handing them there money and letting them be on their way. But he also concluded that he walked along dangerous territory and sometimes even considered mentioning what he’d thought up to Sage, then again he didn’t want to offend her in any way by suggesting the girls she worked alongside would be anything less than honest. Also the conversation would probably go slightly morbid since he would point out that encase anything ever did happen and the he was ordered to be killed by whoever ran old town he’d rather Sage came and done it, since at least he knew she wouldn’t make him suffer to much, if at all. But after he thought that he figured it was best to keep such things to his self and just not worry over it, if that happened he’d deal with it when it happened. Not before. That seemed the best solution so it was the one he rested on.
Though as he sat at his kitchen table wanting to move and yet at the same time not being able to do so, Rowan had to wonder at his restlessness that seemed to only come over when he remembered Sage was coming over to model for him tonight, the painful fact was he shouldn’t have been attracted or tempted by one of his models period, especially the one that had become such a good friend to him and was in a more fetish based scene than most others in Old Town. It was during these thoughts that he heard a knock at the front door and looking up from the spot on the table he’d been looking at; his mind had run away with him for a moment. Taking one more drawl from his cigarette he reached out with his free hand and pulled his only clear glass ash tray closer and stubbed out his self rolled cancer stick. Slowly he stood the chair he was sitting on moved back as he stood, quickly taking a swig from his warming beer before moving around the table and out of his kitchen and towards the front door, still feeling the remnants of alcohol and nicotine dancing over his tongue. Raising a hand he pulled back the lock on the door, something he had taken to using since he was in an area of town were just about anyone could walk into your home. His hand dropping to the door handle he opened the door to reveal Sage behind it, just as he thought she would be, glad in a long over coat “Hello.” he said his accent deep yet his voice was soft as he gave her a smile and stepped to the side to let her in “I’m not exactly ready yet, so feel free to grab a drink or something.” once she was inside the flat he closed the door behind her, watching as she moved further into the flat.
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Snakecharms
Sage Galahad
· Old Town
Posts: 15
(4/5/06 11:53 pm)
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Re: Flesh on Canvas [Sage]
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ooc: Ooookay, i typed up a response for this and thought I posted it. Now its no where to be found. So sorry if this isn't as good but this is me retyping a resonse -_-
ic:
Sage stood in front of the door, bringing her hand up to lean on the door way. She could feel the eyes on her from the neighbors that peeked out their doors to figure out what exactly was making that sound against the hallway floor. THey saw their answer in the form of a pair of black thigh high boots, with a heel sharp enough to stab anyone that accidentally distrupted her path. To the long term neighbors it wasn't out of the ordinary to see her knocking on Rowan's door, dressed in leather and hiding most of it with a trench coat. To those that had recently moved in she was certainly a sight and Rowan was the least likely person they thought would pay for someone with her specialities. To those that shared the same floor for a while, they all more than likely just pegged Rowan for a man with odd taste, not to mention a raging hard labido with all the different girls that came over, knocking on his door. Sage never asked if he got any strange looks walking through the apartment building, or if anyone ever felt bold enough to flat out ask him what was up with him and the prostitutes. Little did anyone know that what Rowan really did was make beauitful portraits with either graphite or charcoal on a canvas. He had skill like no other artist she'd ever known or seen on television. It was a thought that often came to mind, but Rowan didn't deserve to be in the slums/projects. He deserved to live in Sacred Oats with all the other wealthy people in Jones City. It'd be a place where his work would go appreciated. In the Slums people were too busy trying to figure out how in the hell they'd pay next months rent or how they were going to find dope for their next high. Priorities were set on survival in these parts where getting robbed and stripped butt naked in an alley was an every day occurance. At least in Sacred Oats people could actually take the time to admire his skill and afford to pay him what his art is really worth.
Her attraction to Rowan was what moer than likely stopped her from siting him down and lecturing him on why he needed to be out there working for people who would buy his work to see his skill, not just some horny bastard that wanted to wank off to a piece of art. Modeling for Rowan had its perks being as she got paid of course, but the biggest being that she was able to spend time with him. If he did move to Sacred Oats somehow, someway, she knew she'd rarely ever see him, if at all. It was sad realy, especially since Rowan would more than likely go on with life without ever knowing how Sage really felt, how she wasn't really just another prostitute out to make a buck. When she spent time with him it wasn't all about money, hell a few times she'd come over for nothing more than a beer and coming out to his appartment wasn't exactly a walk next door, proving how out of the way she was willing to go to spend time with him. But of course he more than likely shrugged it off, not thinking it was anything major. Sage heard Rowan come closer to the door , the shadow beneath the door itself told her he was right there. After listening to the lock slip away the door opened. It smelled so much better in his apartment than it did out in the hallway. "Hello." He said as his eyes caught hers. with his soft voice he smiled at her and stepped to the side rather politely, as he most often was. "I'm not exactly ready yet, so feel free to grab a drink or something." His words told her that she was either early or he had been caught up in something so much that he'd forgotten she was supposed to come over. She smiled. "Hello, Bright Eyes."
She could feel a few eyes still on them while he talked to her in the doorway. After Rowan shut the door behind her their imagination would begin to run wild. She stepped in, careful to keep her heel away from his feet. "A drink doesn't really sound like a bad idea." She said with a wink while walking past him, listening to the door latch shut. Sage began to untie the trench coat, feeling the heavy fabric slip away while she shrugged out of it. There was a smell of tabacco in the air which told her Rowan had been rolling some of his cigarettes only momments ago. It was an interesting quirk of his that she'd picked up since the two had started with their modeling sessions and what not. It almost made her want a cigarette right then and there. "So what's it like having the place to yourself?" she asked, looking over her bare shoulder at him, draping the coat over her arm. "Lonely?" She couldn't remember how long ago Harry, his room mate, had moved out. It had been the first time she'd been there without his possessions holed up in one room or the P.I. lurking around, ready to converse with her. Exactly where he was, was a mystery, maybe even to Rowan. But when Harry had started investigating something a little too close to the Mafia he started getting death threats in the mail and in person, or so he'd said. And when the Mafia started dishing out threats, they meant it. So then Harry packed up his things and moved out of the city to god knew where, waiting for all the hype. Tossing the coat on a vacant chair in the kitchen her high heels took her to the fridge. Tonight she wore a croset that pushed up her breasts, making them look like ripe fruit. The bottom was legless tho not a thong since Sage despised them and only ever wore one if asked. Bending over she reached into the fridged and pulled out two bottles of beer. "Want one?" she asked, sticking her head out of the fridge.
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After The Morning
Rowan Earnshaw
· Artist
Posts: 41
(4/6/06 3:57 pm)
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Re: Flesh on Canvas [Sage]
He was without a doubt the topic of conversation for most of his neighbours; most of them were nosey with imaginations so wild even Rowan had to wonder what part of the mind it could come from. After all it wasn’t like they ever heard any strange noises coming from inside his apartment and it wasn’t like he was anything close to the couple that lived above his apartment who shook the walls, made bits of the ceiling plaster fall on his head and flat out scream when they were in the middle of it all. Actually Rowan convinced he knew there daily routines better than they did, after all the walls and ceilings were almost paper thin and sound travelled through them with ease, with so much ease in fact that the person below him tended to complain about the couple above Rowan’s flat’s loud sexual exploits. Sometimes the Englishman figured it was more jealousy than much else that made him complain, though he never said anything about it simply nodding and saying the occasional word when he happened to meet him down in the laundry room. Which was were he was most often cornered and people attempting to get a conversation out of him. He was always curt and polite but never to get into in-depth conversation with them or get on a basis further than a courteous hello when passing one another in the corridors and such.
They probably all thought him a snob really. A typical English snob who thought himself too good to be in the place he was now, which was far from the truth. In fact he felt he probably fit rather well into the penniless scene, especially being an artist. A starving artist was the romantic portrayal of it all, someone with a great talent and passion and yet highly unrecognised and yet they somehow still managed to get by. It was a nice idea and story but it was far from the truth. There was no great romance in having to struggle to buy food, put clothes on your back and pay the rent. There was no room for great stubborn passions refusing to draw something one didn’t want to draw simply because they had to much pride. In real life it was swallow your pride and live or die of hunger pride intact. Rowan would much rather draw naked old town girls and such and sell them on to his customers who were mainly perverted middle aged men who just needed some material to stroke themselves over. Actually there were times when he wished his customers wouldn’t share as much as they did with him. Just because he drew the girls naked didn’t mean he wanted to know the effect a picture had on other men, though he’d told a few vulgar things that almost made him want to stop dealing with certain customers, but most were the highest payers and the ones that would come back time and time again.
So to let his personal feelings and issues get in the way of such a thing would be foolish, and since he was not one to try and do foolish things to often he did not do what his initial reaction told him to. He needed the money to much for that, though he wasn’t really buying to much food with it. It was mainly for art supplies, tobacco and alcohol, as well as the rent and bills. There was very little time for food in his life anyway, plus he never really found himself all that hungry. Had he still been living in England or anywhere else in America things like not being hungry or overly tired would have made him go to the doctor and sort the whole thing out. But where was he supposed to find a doctor in Savage City, more formally known as Jones City? Well a doctor he could no doubt find, but one that wasn’t crooked or qualified in some way or another would be another matter entirely. So he’d just ride it all out or simply just not worry about it, there was obviously very good reasons for both which could be a lack of sleep and generally just not living in an environment that would make one want to eat. Though he figured at some point he’d get this function back, after all one had to eat at some point or another. Either that or he would eventually have to force himself to eat something. Rowan was confident that it wouldn’t come to that though. It all seemed a bit drastic.
"Hello, Bright Eyes." Sage said after he greeted her, the nickname he was becoming so used to made him smile a little and advert his eyes from her for a moment, though he wasn’t normally a shy or bashful person he tended to still get a bit uncomfortable at nicknames especially about his eyes that he didn’t think were all that great, then again he wasn’t someone who thought to highly off himself in general. The blue eyed Englishman knew his neighbours where watching their exchange at the door peering through cracks and watching what was going on. They’d probably have their ears pressed against the wall when he closed the door, trying to listen in to what they said or were doing "A drink doesn't really sound like a bad idea." she said, entering his flat whilst he closed the door Rowan watching her for a few moments as she moved towards the kitchen removing her trench coat. Tearing his eyes away from her moving frame since he figured he was pretty much staring the artist moved away from the door and into what was now the spare room, formally known as Harry’s room. It was where he kept all his art supplies now, and since he had a lot recently due to stocking up the room was far from bare, though it was not filled with life like it had once been when his Australian room mate had been around with his loud shirts and outgoing personality.
"So what's it like having the place to yourself?" Sage asked, as if reading his thoughts at that moment, making Rowan pause for a moment before continuing to shift about his materials and get what he needed “Lonely?” she asked, which she probably thought it was, going from having one other person living in the same small space as him to just having it all to himself. At first it had felt strange but after a while he simply got used to being there alone since a lot of the time he was never really alone “Quiet,” he replied walking out what once was Harry’s room with his supplies “It’s hard to get lonely, there always seems to be someone coming or going from here.” a soft smile came across his lips briefly as he set everything up, his eyes not going back to Sage as she rummaged about in his fridge getting hold of some of his beers “I’m quite used to being alone anyway.” he said with a moments hesitation before turning away from the canvas he had set up walking towards the kitchen and Sage where she held two beer bottles in her hands, asking him whether he wanted one himself which wasn’t a bad idea given the heat of the place, though it seemed to have got hotter but that could have just been his imagination “Thank you.” he said taking the beer from Sage and looking down at her from where he stood in front of her, a space between there two forms “How have you been?” he asked, a way to pick the conversation up perhaps and away from the fact that he no longer had a roommate.
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Snakecharms
Sage Galahad
· Old Town
Posts: 16
(4/6/06 11:18 pm)
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Re: Flesh on Canvas [Sage]
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Sage always acted rather natural around Rowan, mainly because, unlike anyone she ever worked for like her clients, they were very rarely down to earth. Then again her clients weren't up for conversation that wasn't going to turn them on or get them off. As soon as she walked through the door there was only one theing on their mind. Given that they were paying for her services she didn't have any real qualms or problems. But it only rienforced her reasons for feeling so at ease around Rowan. Her helping herself to his fridge seemed to show just how comforatble she was in his apartment. One would think that she was his new room mate or something of the sort. Sage wasn't one to have many, if any friends outside of the other girls of oldtown. It was dangerous. You had your johns and then your regular johns. That was it. Having relationships outside of oldtown was almost inviting trouble. It wasn't long ago that the girls had trouble with some of them going missing and being found murdered days later. Old Town was a serieal killer or rapists wet dream. A bunch of sexually active women walking around the streets till near dawn with clothing that rarely ever left anything to the imagination. The only thing that stopped most of them from invading was the fact that nearly every girl had a weapon on her and wasn't afraid to use it. Still some feaks found their way through loop holes and a few girls would go missing, being found later dumped by the road side or in a back alley. It didn't happen ofen, maybe once every few years or so, but once was often too much for Sage.
That was why she didn't too many relationships outside of work and oldtown. It was too risky, and god only knew what type of man would try to get close to her only to rape her and dump her somewhere. With the mafia in Sacret Oats always trying to figure out new ways to crush Old Town, Sage took percautions which meant she didn't have sex for rerecation, or enjoyment since she couldn't trust a man enough to allow him to get close to her on a personal level . Years of working the streets the way she did made it so that she was very careful and meticulous as far as that went. Rarely did she ever regret her careful choices when it came to mutual sex and intimacy though she wouldn't lie. She did miss it. The good sex, the feeling that overcame you only when you were taking part in it with someone you wanted whole heartedly. But for the most part Sage tried not to think about it and what she was missing. Keping busy helped out with that, as well as drinking alot during her downtime. It was how she had such a high tollerance for alcohol these days. Nothing like a stiff drink to make all your stresses and daily problems fade to the back ground. She heard his footfalls in the apartment while she raided the fridge, maybe he was gathering art supplies or setting up the spot where he wanted her to model for him. "Quiet." he said to her question about him being lonely . "It's hard to get lonely, there always seems to be someone coming or going from here." She gave a chuckle at that. He made it seem that there was a whole trioop of women leaving his appartment every day. Then again maybe he did have daily models. She'd never asked or inquired as to how many women there were. “I’m quite used to being alone anyway.”
His next words struck her in an odd way, right in her gut. For a moment the response felt sad in a way, making it so that she didn't know how to retort. swallowing hard she heard his footfalls carry him into the kitchen where she was. Her eyes watched him as he came in a bit further, hoping he'd say something else so that there wouldn't be such a serious tone in the air. "Thank you." he said, taking the beer she offered. "How have you been?" Rowan asked. It seemed that simple question had been a long time coming. Standing to her full height she kicked the fridge door shut behind her. She twisted the bottle top off with ease due to the amount of practice she had. Looking up at the British man she was glad that he was at least attempting to pick the conversation back up once again. "Not too bad," she said with a slight smile. "Hot actually." Sage gave a slight laugh before taking a sip of her beer and then placing it down on the table beside her. Summer was always a bitch in Jones City, then again it always felt a bit hotter in Rowan's apartment for some reason. Taking away his beer she unscrewed the top easily for him and handed it back to him. "But what's new, right?"running hands through her hair, pulling it off her neck for a second she felt a bit cooler, though it didn't last last long enough. There was a bit of space between them, but the fact that it was so little was more than likely what got her skin running hot. Feeling rather fidgety in front of him, so close she could lean forward and have her front press against him, she pulled out a chair and brought her leg up, setting her foot on the edge so she could start taking off her boots. "What about you, Rowan?" Sage asked, taking the zipper down the outside of her leg. "Been keeping busy?"
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After The Morning
Rowan Earnshaw
· Artist
Posts: 42
(4/7/06 11:45 am)
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Re: Flesh on Canvas [Sage]
Rowan’s words were nothing but the truth, he was used to being alone something he was rather comfortable with. He’d always been someone who was happy and comfortable with his own company, it was the way he’d also been even when he was a child. He was alone more than he was with others, never one to be invited to parties or out to the early hours of the morning. This was perhaps where his love of art had come from, it seemed such an individual, private thing painting and drawing. Creating something from nothing, not only that it took a more passive passion to do such a thing, and a passive passion he did have. He may have felt something strongly but was not the sort of person to say it out loud or shout it from roof tops. This for him was what art was all about, to be a person that expressed who they were through images, though his art now a days was much more about money then self expression. Even though that was something that did not necessarily sit well with him it was not something he could split hairs about in any way shape or form. If he had to paint naked women for other men to get there orgasms over then as long as they paid what the picture was worth than that’s what he would do. He was no longer than quiet idealistic youth, no reality had taken over and it was much harsher and crueller than anyone realised. Well anyone outside Jones city. Rowan had the feeling that unless someone was born here, everyone else was here simply because they had something to run away from or some deep secret and sin they had to hide. It was a place that could be easily romanticised, though the place itself was far from any kind of storybook dream.
It was a small section of a state where murder, rape and incest no longer shocked people, hell the shock would be if nothing happened at all for one day, if the news was not full off a body being found down some back alley stripped naked and pretty much butchered. A shock if the police managed to close a case with a successful arrest. After all they left Old Town well enough alone, he knew that much for nothing and the Mafia probably also had there foot in that particular door as well. It made Rowan feel for them in some way not really being able to do there job probably because they had two extremely powerful forces bribing them left, right and centre. Then again it occurred they may not have cared that much about how they did their job as long as the pay check came in at the end of it all. Since that was how things seemed to work around here. Everything was hunky dory as long as you got a enough money at the end of it. Perhaps that was appeal that in that way everything was simple. However, there were times when Rowan really wondered when everything had gone wrong in this city, when had the old town girls finally taken over their section of it all and when had the mafia grabbed most of the control? He would have asked Sage for a bit of a history lesson concerning it all but figured in the long run he probably didn’t want to know when law and order had failed and everything else had taken over.
Thoughts like this tended to make him wonder how much of him was still stuck back in what could be considered ‘civilised’ society. Back in England when he had a wife, child and steady income. A big house on a little cul-de-sac in a small countryside village in the middle of nowhere, though not to far from the city so that his wife could drive to work everyday without it being a long journey. Making so that his clients were not far away, nor was his agent of that time. Then again his agent or whatever she was then had something completely different on her mind when it came to him, actually he’d come to the conclusion that she only managed to get his paintings, drawings and such sold as well as get him commissions because she was interested in getting him between the sheets of her bed. Something that had taken bribery to actually achieve. Maybe he’d not lived in a world so far away from this one, after all, all Savage did was not cover up those things that went on everywhere else anyway. That was a break through of a thought and one he decided to analysis later and not bother looking to deeply into at the moment, after all Sage served as a greater distraction than his revelation that savage wasn’t entirely different from the rest of the world, just the bad taboo things were much more apparent, and indeed no longer taboo.
She was rooting around in his fridge as though it was her own, something that had become habit as off late. They’d become closer as people, friends which was something he figured she didn’t have many off outside the other old town girls and he didn’t have many of period. Then again there really weren’t many trust worthy people around in this city anyway so it was probably better that he kept himself close to his chest without letting anyone in, apart from Sage and then there was also Harry who just have the privilege of being his roommate and so got the friendship on a default more than anything else. Then again Harry had caused him more problems since leaving than he ever had done when he was still around. Rowan felt it was probably better not to mention to Sage that the Mafia had come knocking on his door to see if he knew where Harry had gone, which he did not. Hell they’d even ransacked his room looking for clues then left without a word but defiantly a bit pissed off, all the while Rowan had sat in the kitchen smoking and waiting calmly waiting for them to leave. Whether they had found his attitude to them being odd, since he was sure they were used to striking fear in people. Though he couldn’t say he hadn’t been unafraid about them coming in and shooting him for no good reason, he wasn’t about to let them see they unnerved him in anyway. So they left unhappy and empty handed with promises that they’d be back if they found out that Rowan knew where Harry was, and that was that.
"Not too bad," Sage replied to his question with a slight smile, he supposed her answer was a bit woolly but didn’t pry into it any further "Hot actually." she added, which made him smile slightly the summer here was murder really, too damn hot and in his flat it always seemed hotter, then again the clinking of the air conditioner gave away the reason why it was. Without a word she took the beer from his hand, unscrewed the top and then handed it back to him which was something that he barely noticed she’d done, it all seeming so routine “But what's new, right?" she said, making him smile at her again which seemed to be the only response he could get out at the moment, the cool beer still resting in between his hands. He’d noticed the amount of space between them, well lack there of, noticing how if one of them took a step closer then they’d be pushed against one another. It left a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach something he pushed aside and watched as Sage moved lifting her leg into one of his chairs and taking off her boots, reminding him this was far from a social visit. "What about you, Rowan?" she asked almost catching him off guard as he had been busy watching her beginning to take off her rather long boots, his eyes dancing over the sharp heel which he hoped never ever came in contact with any part of him at all "Been keeping busy?" she asked, making him blink for a moment gathering himself and mentally telling himself to pull it together or she’d wonder what the hell had got into him “No more than usual,” he replied, moving to the table and placing down his beer which remained untouched “I’ll try and not keep you to long with this painting, it’s all pretty straight foreword.” he told her, running a hand through his now short hair “Though this particular customer I don’t like selling my drawings too.” he admitted as a way of making more conversation and in an attempt to try and act somewhat normally.
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Snakecharms
Sage Galahad
· Old Town
Posts: 17
(4/8/06 1:37 pm)
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Re: Flesh on Canvas [Sage]
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Sage didn't like the sad undertone that had just fallen on the both of them, all because she asked if he was lonely. At first she was just making conversation and being a jokester about it all, attempting to be comedic to make him laugh or break the ice upon her arrival. But she'd not really thought on what it would be like if he was indeed truly lonely. With Harry here she hadn't thought on it at all since with how much he liked to talk and hang about, Rowan would probably wish he were alone. But now with the place a bit quieter and a bit emptier Sage actually began to wonder about him. If her memory served her correctly they'd talked about him and dating before, and how currently he didn't/ wasn't sleeping with anyone, or in other words wasn't dating. It was only now that Sage grew curious as to whether iit was all begining to really affect him. Sage had lived alone since she'd been able to pay for rent all on her own without the need or help. That had been a long, long time ago. The only time Sage found herself to be truly lonely it was when the holidays came around. Sometimes she would go and visit her remaining family since that's what people did on holidays, but there were other times where she didn't, often because her last trip up there had turned out very bad. It never failed for one family member to bring up. the fact that she didn't have a career and that it only meant one thing if she was living in Jones City. She never openly talked about what she did for money, didn't really see it as anyones business, especially since it would only cause drama through the family. And she was of course the chosen one to be gosssiped about. Lately because of it all she'd skipped out on Christmas and Thanksgiving.
Looking at him standing in front of her, Sage knew what lonliness felt like though she tried not to dwell on it and of course never spoke of it to anyone. She'd be lying if she were to ever say she didn't miss mutal sex and somply touching someone she desired. But given her proffession there really was no time to think so light heartedly or about herself in general. It was just much easier being aggressive rather than wishing and waiting for something to happen than she knew would never come. It was sad in a way, how she seemed to almost forget how to be gentle or loving to anyone except for her pets at home. After a while there was barely a difference between hugging someone and bringing a cat of nine tails down on their bare flesh. It was as if she'd forgotten how to be anything but aggressive when ever she felt an emotion, be it either bad or good. It hadn't realy caused her any problems as of late other than seeming really withdrawn to her family, then again after leaving all those years ago she'd always been withdrawn, and at times it was purposeful. But while she stood in front of Rowan, she began to wonder if he knew her secret about her inability to be anything but violent or aggressive at times. He more than likely didn't and if he did Sage worried that it would damage the way he saw her. Sage liked to consider herself a woman that was down to earth, normal enough to actually hold a conversation with and laugh over a beer like they'd done before. Then again, everyone had skeletons in their closets. Some were just larger than others.
They'd been dangerously close to one another, one small step or lean forward forcing their fronts to push together. Then again Sage wasn't sure why it was so dangerous, them being that close since he saw her nude on a regular basis. But things were a bit different now, she could feel it in a way, like a strange vibe. She couldn't really explain it in words but Sage could now admit to herself that she was attracted to him. And now it wasn't about him seeing her naked flesh about about touch. She couldn't recall off hand if they'd ever touched for a period of time before, and if they had it'd been but a fleeting momment. Since her gerat ephanay it seemed shed gone out of her way to not touch him. Afraid of what might happen. The sound of the metalic zipper flowing down her leg sounded under Rowan's voice. "No more than usual." he said, moving away from her to the table. "I'kk try and not keep you too long with this painting, its all pretty straight forward." That caught her attention while she placed one boot on the floor and worked on the other. Coming to Rowans apartment was never a burden at this point, hell there were even times when the two of them went to Dee's together for drinks late at night. And she'd always worry about him wlaking home and not being able to defend himself. She hoped she wouldn't have to assure him once more that being with him was never always business or even at all a burden to her. She watched him while she felt the other boot loosen. "Though this particular customer I don't like selling my drawings too." Bringing her leg down she removed the boot, setting it on the floor with the other. Sage stood barefoot in the kitchen, still dressed in leather, dark locks falling over her shoulders. "[b]You know I don't mind coming here, Rowan."[/b] She said stepping a bit closer, one hand on the table. [b]"It could take all night and I wouldn't care."[/b] She added a small smile, looking at him and having to pull her eyes away so she wouldn't stare. There was a bit of silence before she took a sip of the beer she had, placing it back o nthe table. [b]"So is this customer a bit more of a pervert than usual?"[/b] she asked, putting her eyes back on him, attempting to put a bit of humor into the air though she didn't think it was working well. Exactly where the serious overtones had come from all of a sudden she wasn't sure. [b]"Though by now nothing could surprise me. Where are we going to be working at?""[/b]
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