Danica
Rogue Werewolf
Pianist/Vocalist: Dulce
If I cannot fly, let me sing.
Posts: 8
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Dulce
Jan 1, 2008 1:45:03 GMT
Post by Danica on Jan 1, 2008 1:45:03 GMT
Fridays and Saturdays were usually her big nights, the nights when Dulce was packed and a good percentage of those sitting in at the little round tables that surrounded the stage were there to hear her play or sing. Most of the rest of the week had become a chance for her to rehearse in the evenings with an audience, nothing improved a performance like a live audience, Danica Cvetkovic had learned that a long time ago. Well some things did, but certain methods she liked to keep firmly in the past. So she had put herself down for the early evening set, wanting to run through some of the pieces she would be singing over the next couple of days one last time in front of a live crowd before the weekend.
It hadn't been easy and it hadn't happened over night, but she had obtained the wriggle room, along with a steadily building reputation, to choose when she sang and when she didn't, as long as she worked Friday and Saturday night, she could do as much or as little as she wanted the rest of the week. Being the only official musician under the employ of the establishment, top of the bill so to speak, gave her privileges that she was not only grateful for but careful with. Over the next two nights she would be performing her vocal sets two or three times and sitting at the piano in between, providing the mellow filler music that patrons of the restaurant-cum-bar had come to expect of the establishment. Hard, nights of work but worth every second when she nailed it and the customers applauded her as she said goodnight and begged her to sing one more number. The Croatian wolf wasn't egotistical or big headed, but she would have been lying if she'd said she didn't love that.
Smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in her periwinkle blue, silk skirt, Danica gargled a mouthful of ginger water, head titled back, the warm water allowing a muffled siren from her voice through as she finished her warm up. After a minute she spat it demurely into the sink, holding a swathe of dark, ringlet curls away from the basin and chased the spicy taste in the back of her mouth with a swallow of water. Then she was ready. After a once over in the mirror of the dressing room she made for the restaurant's stage, walking up the steps in the back just as her name filled the room and a smattering of applause followed the introduction.
Smiling as stepped to front and centre stage and smiled in her genial way and then looked to the pianist and gave a nod, which he returned. The first notes of Hijo de la Luna began and she took a deep breath, standing ready, soft knees, relaxed, still shoulders and began to sing in perfectly enunciated Spanish, "Tonto el que no entienda, cuenta una leyenda..." Instantly, within the space of a few bars, she slipped into the story, told it with the notes, not the words, with her expressions and gentle changes in tone, leaning into the emotions and losing herself in them, "Que una hembra gitana, conjuro a la luna..."
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Danica
Rogue Werewolf
Pianist/Vocalist: Dulce
If I cannot fly, let me sing.
Posts: 8
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Dulce
Jan 6, 2008 22:42:53 GMT
Post by Danica on Jan 6, 2008 22:42:53 GMT
All in all the first half of the set had gone well, Danica was satisfied with her performance, there were things that needed tweaking and back in her dressing room, as she had 'retired' to it for the interval, she had made a few notes to herself in her little manuscript book. In using the evening as something of a rehearsal, she was technically not working in the same way she was on the weekends she didn't have to play the piano in between the vocal parts of her set. It actually made for rather a relaxing night, as long as she didn't make any glaring errors in her performance.
Or it did until Vincent came to find her.
At first he knocked, then without waiting for a reply he stuck his head around the door. Danica turned to look at him, a pen in one hand and her note book in the other, she sighed, "I told you not to barge in here, Vincent." She said.
The human waved a hand as if they were old friends and it was nothing, an old, amiable argument. They weren't and it wasn't. Vincent was the boss' son, set to inherit the restaurant and naturally he thought that made him the king of the castle. "Dani, sweetheart," she said, approaching the female, "I thought you'd want to know that Roman Sykes is sitting at a table out there and he's quite taken with you."
"Roman Sykes?"
Vincent rolled his eyes and then spoke as if he were addressing a small child, "Sykes Enterprises? His father was the big shot, but Sykes Junior's the one living up to the LA stereotype, far as sex, drugs and rock and roll goes anyway."
For a moment Danica was silent, concentrating on breathing. Something told her that she was not going to like where this was going. Unlike some members of the supernatural community she had no extra special powers, sure she was a werewolf, but she couldn't read minds or see the future, the funny thing was that with Vincent you didn't really need those things. You didn't even need to be a lycanthrope. He was as transparent as a pane of glass at times. "What have you done?" she asked, her accent thick with apprehensive anger and worry; she already had a sneaking suspicion of what he had done.
Vincent touched her elbow and she tried not to recoil under the unnaturally clammy grasp, he leaned in and her enhanced senses were flooded with tacky aftershave and the smells of the restaurant kitchen, his breath on her neck reeked of wine. "I said you'd be happy to have a drink with him after your set--"
"You what?" At his words, she did recoil from him, jerking her arm away and stepping back, annoyance in her every feature, "Are you insane?"
Raising his hands defensively, palms towards the female, Vincent shook his head, "Relax! Jesus, relax babes it's nothing like that. I'm going with you both, he wants to see about buying into the restaurant and I'm going along to field any questions he might have."
Danica pinched the bridge of her nose, "If he wants to buy into the restaurant then what do I have to do with it? I just work here. I'm not even a staff member."
To her utter disgust he winked at her, "You just sweeten the deal." At her expression he sighed and his whole demeanour change din an instant, seeing that this time his act really wasn't going to cut it. "Look, it's just a drink. Sit there, look pretty, woo him with that accent of yours and then you can go home. That's all."
"Fine." Danica ground out, jaw stiff, "If you try something like this again, I'm going to have to find myself another performance venue..."
"I get it, alright?" Vincent's expression was twisted, his sleaze-act had dropped like a stone and beneath it Danica could see the sort of arrogance and egoism she had never once picked up from the young man's father, who was still in her mind her employer no matter how much his son liked to think he ran the place. Vincent and Sykes probably got on like a house on fire, spending their fathers' money. It was sickening. "I already told him you'd be there, so just wear something pretty and come over to his table after you're done."
As he left Danica closed her eyes. The day that Vincent inherited the restaurant, she told herself, would be the day that she walked out the doors and didn't stop to look back. Of course coming back into the business she had known that there would be people along the way that she would dislike, even downright detest, but time had taught her it was wisest to pick and choose her battles carefully. Eventually she would be able to tell Vincent just exactly what she thought of him, but not tonight. If she refused to go along with his insane little meeting she would only be making things hard for herself, and taking a step forwards only to take three backwards by rubbing the boss' son the wrong way was not what Danica had in mind. As much as her wolf detested the idea of being at the beck and call of any man, she took a few deep breaths and looked in the mirror, silently reminding herself just why she was putting up with this.
Ten minutes later she was back on stage, the notes and words of the second half of her small set threading through the air as she subconsciously tried to pick out which patron she was going to have to endure along with Vincent...
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Danica
Rogue Werewolf
Pianist/Vocalist: Dulce
If I cannot fly, let me sing.
Posts: 8
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Dulce
Jan 10, 2008 23:53:50 GMT
Post by Danica on Jan 10, 2008 23:53:50 GMT
There were some things that you just had to do, you had to suck up your revulsion and apprehension and just get on with it. Having already changed out of her performance attire and into something a little more street friendly, but none the less feminine, Danica was thinking about how all she would have to do was get through this little bump in the evening as she walked form the dressing room into the main body of the restaurant. If she did this she could bring it up next time Vincent got it into his head to try and manhandle her. Metaphorically. If he ever tried anything physical on her, the vocalist new that her pacifism would fly right out of the window.
"Roman!" Vincent said boisterously, clapping his hand into the other young man's, they shared a handshake and a few words and pats on the back and then attention turned to Danica. Vincent gestured to her, "This is Danica Cvetkovic, Dani, this is Roman Sykes,"
"Charmed." The she-wolf smiled briefly, politely and extended her hand to shake his. "I hope everything was to your liking this evening?"
"Oh yeah, yeah everything was fine, the chef here is fantastic, I've been telling Vincent's father for months, best hire he ever made. After you naturally, the entertainment was, as always, exquisite."
Danica smiled again, waving his leering compliment away, when really she wanted to bat it away with a frying pan. "You flatter me, but thank you."
Pulling a chair out for her, Sykes laughed throatily, "So, Cvetkovic..." he repeated her surname thoughtfully - a look she knew well - chewing the pronunciation to hell and making Danica grimace slightly as he laughed, cracking a joke; "Sorry, my Russian isn't what it used to be."
Of course the fact that she could speak Russian was beside the point, people heard the accent and assumed her country of birth, normally it didn't annoy her at all, it was an easy mistake, but Sykes and Vincent, she had deemed, did not warrant the benefit of the doubt in any way, shape or form. "Well, that doesn't matter," Danica said with faux wryness in her voice, masking genuine annoyance that by their expressions they failed to pick up on. Humans. Ridiculous creatures. "I'm Croatian."
They both laughed. It was going to be a long, long night.
After a few more exchanged pleasantries Sykes clapped his hands together, "Well we better get going, you usually work Fridays, right Dani? So I can't have you out too late, can I?"
"Vincent gave me the impression we would be staying here."
"Here? Nah, I was thinking The Onyx would be more fun."
Oh God. Danica's heart sank, just what she needed; throbbing music, drunk college students, probably vampires around every turn, and there was not enough tequila in the world to counter the cumulative effects of those things, not that Danica was or had ever been much of a drinker, but there were times when even she saw the allure, besides she liked the taste of alcohol well enough, depending on the beverage. With a shudder lying in wait at the base of her spine she gave a little nod, best to make a preemptive strike in the hopes of getting out of the evening's activities as soon as she could without getting on Vincent's bad side. "I'm afraid it'll have to be just the one drink, like you said I work tomorrow," she touched her fingers to her throat, "have to be careful not to strain anything."
First thing she was going to do was order a margarita, that was for damn sure.
Continued at; The Onyx; Club Interior.
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Chris
Human
LAPD Sergeant: Narcotics
And I won't let you drown when the water's pulling you in; I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting.
Posts: 407
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Dulce
Jun 5, 2010 15:38:38 GMT
Post by Chris on Jun 5, 2010 15:38:38 GMT
POST TIMESKIP.
There was a part of him, quite honestly, that had been hoping she'd forgotten about that offer she'd made almost a month ago, the two of them stood in his living room folding bedding. Élodie had promised to take him out to dinner to repay him for what he'd done, something that had only come naturally, and he'd told her she didn't need to do that. It had ended with Elle refusing to take no for an answer and Chris admitting defeat. Still, he'd thought she might have forgotten, and he'd been hoping that was the case.
"I meant it when I said you didn't need to do this, you know." He didn't doubt she knew that, but holding the door of his car open for her to climb out of the passenger seat, he couldn't help but look to the exterior of the building beside which they had parked in the busy lot. Anyone who had lived in Los Angeles any amount of time beyond a couple of weeks knew the reputation of certain places and Dulce was one of them. It wasn't easy to get into, it wasn't exactly your normal, run-of-the-mill restaurant, and it certainly wasn't cheap. Chris found himself wishing she really had forgotten about the offer. It wasn't that he didn't want to have dinner with her, she was his friend and of course he wanted to spend time with her, but he didn't want her to go to all this trouble.
"You're not going to let me pay for anything tonight, are you?" He suspected he already knew the answer, but still, he couldn't stop himself from asking.
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Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Dulce
Jun 5, 2010 21:38:14 GMT
Post by Elle on Jun 5, 2010 21:38:14 GMT
If she hadn't written it down there was a strong possibility that Elle would have forgotten the whole thing only to have some random reminder pop up and make her curse her memory at some awkward later date; she essentially lived her life from the pages of her planner, where she needed to be and who she needed to talk too, with splitting her time the way she had to it wasn't such a surprise really, not when in the past she had taken four or five trips in the pace of a month, when they had to shoot reams of footage for the show in a short space of time. The truth was really that she like dot be square with people, she liked to repay people, if only in gesture. Chris had come out to her house late at night and sat with her until the cops arrived, he'd let her crash on his couch that night when she was obviously shaken and even if they were friends and that was the sort ting friends did for each other she wanted to know for her own peace of mind that she had at least done this, taken him out and given him a break from... whatever was living in his fridge.
"I know you did." Elle smiled and nodded as she got out of the car, giving her stole a light tug to pull it flush to her shoulders. He hadn't been falsely deprecating in the least, that wasn't like him, and she knew to some extent it made him a little uncomfortable. But, as she liked to say, this was the 21st century and she was paying for dinner, the end. "And no I won't. But I will keep my end of the deal though; if you let me do this the whole thing will be in the past and we can just carry on and forget it."
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Chris
Human
LAPD Sergeant: Narcotics
And I won't let you drown when the water's pulling you in; I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting.
Posts: 407
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Dulce
Jun 6, 2010 16:42:12 GMT
Post by Chris on Jun 6, 2010 16:42:12 GMT
With a memory like Chris Tyler's, it would have been impossible to forget about Elle's promise, but not everyone had that mental capacity like he did. That wasn't to say that he was a rare individual, plenty of people had photographic memories, or something that went beyond what he could do, and it was far from miraculous. It just meant he could never make excuses about forgetting something because it was simply unlikely that he would do so. He'd never had a planner or a diary, not since he'd left high school at least, and even then he hadn't necessarily needed the book to keep track of assignments and deadlines.
Closing the car door with a fresh smile and a nod of his head, Chris pocketed the keys, feeling a little out of place already before they had even stepped through the entrance into the establishment itself. It wasn't often at all that Chris made more than the minimal effort when it came to his wardrobe, though that wasn't to say he didn't own the kinds of clothes that were expected for a place like Dulce. Still, the shirt and jacket with matching pants and shoes rather than boots made him feel a little out of his element. He supposed he would just have to trust to Elle's expertise. "Well, in that case, I can't really argue, can I?" He smiled again, going on to add, "Not any more than I already have, at least."
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Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Dulce
Jun 8, 2010 22:16:36 GMT
Post by Elle on Jun 8, 2010 22:16:36 GMT
Being scatterbrained just seemed to be part of her creative mentality. Elle was smart, certainly, she had taken engineering and that required a lot of mathematics, calculations to determine space and quantity of materials, but she was essentially -- or liked to think of herself -- as an artist which generally seemed to mean she was better at thinking in terms of colour and atmosphere rather that actually being able to retain large quantities of information about where she was supposed to be and who she was meant to be talking to.
"You put up a good fight, I'll give you that." Elle laughed, bumping into him playfully as they walked. While she wouldn't go so far as to say it was the first time in the last few weeks she felt relaxed and in high spirits it was certainly one of just a handful; gradually she'd been able to relax, knowing that she had done all she could, gone over her statement at the station over and over, that if she lived her whole life in fear of the man who had seemingly let himself into her home without trouble then she would have a miserable life. It was precious to her, she didn't know exactly how much time she had, it was true for everyone but the chances of her dropping dead were higher and she didn't take that lightly, she'd be a fool to. "Trust me, it's the least I can do. I know it seems silly of me but-- well, I want to do this and you're very good to let me." She turned her head to look at him, beaming and triumphant.
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Chris
Human
LAPD Sergeant: Narcotics
And I won't let you drown when the water's pulling you in; I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting.
Posts: 407
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Dulce
Jun 9, 2010 20:28:52 GMT
Post by Chris on Jun 9, 2010 20:28:52 GMT
Different people had different traits that helped them in their specific chosen fields. Elle had a head for numbers and scale and colour and shape whereas Chris had more of a mind for tactics and pursuit and problem-solving. Not that Elle couldn't solve problems all of her own, but all things considered, hers were of a completely different nature to his own when it came to work. Hers didn't often come down to life-or-death in any way, and though Narcotics often wasn't as gritty and -- to use a word tossed about the station so frivolously -- hardcore as a couple of the other departments like Homicide or SVU, it had its own fair share of dangers. Chris could say that much from experience; the scar on his leg was a reminder of just how dangerous his line of work could be at any given time.
"Oh, why thank you," he accepted with a laugh, hands finding his pockets as they headed towards the entrance. Chris had offered to let Elle stay at his place as long as she needed but he'd accepted her need to stand on her own two feet and make her own choices, live her life the way she wanted. She wasn't the type of woman to let a mysterious stranger spook her into hiding and dropping everything and he respected that, admired her tenacity and the way she kept her chin up even with everything she had been through. They had reached the door by the time she turned her head with that smile, and he returned it in his own fashion, though not with the triumph hers carried. "Well, I knew I wasn't going to wear you down, so," he began, lifting one shoulder in a gentle shrug that somehow managed to keep from seeming nonchalant, "don't mention it." Something of a strange thing to say, but honestly he wasn't sure what else he could say.
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Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Dulce
Aug 31, 2010 13:26:08 GMT
Post by Elle on Aug 31, 2010 13:26:08 GMT
Most of her suppliers and contractors would probably attest to the fact that sometimes it felt like a life or death situation, no one liked telling her that the custom made glass sheets would be two weeks late or that the concrete foundation hadn't set, or had cracked and need to be redone. Generally she was a good boss to work for, she was very laid back when everything was going well but she had a lot of things to juggle, she project managed almost all her builds singlehandedly -- something she was getting nagged about more and more as her friends told her she ought to take it easy on her heart and get and assistant -- but realistically there were no lives literally depending on her and her decisions like Chris.
"My lips are sealed." Elle made the motion of turning a key in a lock against her lips and then tossing it away over her shoulder. She smiled. Since they were at the door she was quiet a moment while they went in, telling the maître d’ her last name -- the one she'd made the reservation under -- before he led them off to a table and handed them both menus. When he'd gone, Elle turned her eyes back on Chris and smiled. "I love it here," she said conspiratorially. "The interior was designed by this Italian architect who went nuts and cut his ear off a few years ago. It was all very Van Gogh." Appropriate dinner conversation; check!
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Chris
Human
LAPD Sergeant: Narcotics
And I won't let you drown when the water's pulling you in; I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting.
Posts: 407
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Dulce
Oct 8, 2010 23:17:26 GMT
Post by Chris on Oct 8, 2010 23:17:26 GMT
It wasn't often at all that Chris truly took a night off like this so he was determined to try and enjoy himself; enjoying himself in terms of company would be no problem given that he always felt comfortable and at ease when he spent time with Elle, but he wasn't really all that used to going out like this. This was a little out of his comfort zone, so to speak, so in a way he was putting himself in Elle's -- more than capable, he knew -- hands, and in a manner it was a testament to just how much he trusted her. Chris had never been all that comfortable with social situations, much more at home in a professional setting like the ones he dealt with day to day in his work life, whether it be at the station or out on the streets for whatever reason. Maybe tonight would be the night he realised a social life wasn't such a bad thing, a revelation Mark, Kevin and Ray would be all too happy to hear about, he was sure.
With his jacket removed and set over the rear of the chair, Chris forewent browsing the menu in order to focus properly on Elle and what she was telling him, her smile triggering one of his own, her words almost bringing up a small laugh, one that he decided might be a little inappropriate. "Is there no originality anymore?" he opted to say in the end, opening his menu at last and taking a cursory glance at the first page. "Is the architecture the only reason you love this place?" It was a casual question with a gentle teasing undertone; did she just love the style and design or was the food pretty good on top of that? Chris made sure to give her a smile to make sure it looked like the joke that it was instead of just relying on her to read his tone.
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Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Dulce
Nov 23, 2010 17:54:09 GMT
Post by Elle on Nov 23, 2010 17:54:09 GMT
There was a strong possibility that Elle was at least vaguely aware that this was out of Chris' comfort zone, and she would go to her grave saying that persuading him to come out and have dinner with her had nothing to do with either Mark, Kevin or Ray, or the fact that it was a well known truth among people who knew Chris that he worked extremely hard. Too hard some might say. Elle thought his dedication was rather noble, if she was honest. It was more that she liked doing things that pushed people's perceptions and expanded their experiences, it had to be the heart transplant that had made her more outwardly adventurous; Elle was hardly going to go jumping off sky scrapers or crawling through underground catacombs, or whatever other people considered thrill seeking, but she did like to get out and about, she liked to visit museums as much as she liked going to movies, she enjoyed a lot of things a lot more these days and liked to challenge herself in that respect. Before the car crash she hadn't lived half so hard as she did now. Sometimes that meant dragging her friends along for the ride, too.
Elle laughed. "I'm afraid not. Everything is derivative these days." She sighed dramatically, shaking her head but smiling. To his question she cast her eyes about, thoughtfully, and purse her lips. "Nope, it's just the ear thing." Smiling she propped her elbow on the table and her chin on the heel of her hand, starting to answer him seriously. "I like the atmosphere, which is-- kind of the same as saying I like the architecture because it has a hand in creating the feel of the place, but they have live music some nights, and their virgin daiquiris are the best in town. So it's not totally work related affection." She paused briefly, twirling a circle with her finger to indicate the room, "Is it okay?"
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Chris
Human
LAPD Sergeant: Narcotics
And I won't let you drown when the water's pulling you in; I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting.
Posts: 407
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Dulce
Nov 24, 2010 23:28:40 GMT
Post by Chris on Nov 24, 2010 23:28:40 GMT
Chris was well aware of the fact that he didn't really live some days and he wasn't really sure what was to blame for that. He could take the easy out and say he was too busy to live life outside of the job and all its difficulties but that would be a lie; everyone had free time and though he worked extra hours more than most in his department it wasn't as if he was always working and he couldn't blame his career. He could say it was his mother and what had happened to her that held him back from enjoying himself but that was as much a cheat as the other explanation. Chris didn't know what it was that held him back from actually using his free-time to get out and about and experience things beyond playing poker with his friends or the occasional drink at one of the local bars with some of the people from the station. Perhaps it was time to turn over a new leaf, so to speak, and this evening spent with Elle would be the beginning. Possibilities aside he was reluctant to make any kind of promise to himself. Old habits died hard, after all, wasn't that the saying? Chris was something of a textbook workaholic and he knew it and he couldn't just change how he lived his life, or didn't as the case might be. He could try, though, and if Elle was willing to try and help him with that then he didn't doubt it would go much better than if he attempted such a thing by himself.
"Ah, I knew it had to have something to do with drinks," he teased lightly with a crooked smile that made it all the more obvious he was making fun of her but in the way friends do, harmless and without any real bite. He looked around at her indication, taking in everything he hadn't on first glance, nodding his head. "It's definitely okay," he told her, "I like it." It wasn't his usual kind of place, but then what was? Chris didn't really eat out, rarely had proper meals because he just didn't leave himself time or simply let it slip his mind so much of the time. "So architecture, music and daiquiris aside, what's the food like? What would you recommend?" Knitting his hands together he set them on the tabletop and considered her with an expression that would have been so serious if it wasn't for the hint of a smile that softened the whole thing.
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Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Dulce
Nov 26, 2010 0:32:02 GMT
Post by Elle on Nov 26, 2010 0:32:02 GMT
Elle smiled and nodded, relieved that the place wasn't too uncomfortable for him, though she was actually laughing at his gentle teasing, nodding her head. "Too many power lunches with my business associates," she stated, "I could probably map out the whole city in terms of where you can get a good cocktail." Turning her attention to his query about the food she made a thoughtful sound in her throat and opened up her menu for a moment, though when she spoke she addressed Chris directly. "Usually I go for the fish -- my diet is very boring that way -- but I have it on good authority that the beef is really excellent. Of course you can't go wrong with pasta, either."
A waiter happened to be passing at the point however and she flagged him down, saying to Chris that they should really get the drinks first with what could easily be called a playful smile. As was the rest of the staff, the young man was polite and affable and whisked out his pad and pen to take their beverage order.
"I would love a Shirley Temple, and a Miller Lite for my friend," she glanced back at Chris for confirmation that she had, indeed, remembered his drink correctly.
"Would that be in a glass, sir?" The waiter asked while he wrote, looking up with clear brown eyes.
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Chris
Human
LAPD Sergeant: Narcotics
And I won't let you drown when the water's pulling you in; I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting.
Posts: 407
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Dulce
Nov 26, 2010 22:17:32 GMT
Post by Chris on Nov 26, 2010 22:17:32 GMT
Chris felt rather out of place but that didn't mean he was uncomfortable. With a stranger or someone he didn't consider as close a friend as he did Elle, it would have been a different matter entirely but her presence made the place all the easier to bear. There was nothing at all wrong with it, it simply wasn't the sort of place he was accustomed to visiting. If Elle had her way, he suspected that would change soon enough. "See, I knew you were going to give me multiple options," he said again in another one of those lazy sort of teases that were so normal for him, something of a feigned sigh run through his words before he turned a smile her way.
The confirmation was quickly given, or rather it was a lack of argument on Chris' part that served as confirmation, the next best thing really. To the waiter he gave a verbal confirmation, a simple, "Please," before he glanced across at Elle again, resisting the urge to shrug. Normally he was more than content to drink beer from the bottle when he did drink but Dulce didn't strike him as that sort of place; a glass seemed more in keeping with the tone, or perhaps he was just being a touch too cautious. Chris wasn't the sort of man to worry what other people thought of him, he was a cop and a high-ranking one at that and he didn't have time to waste troubling himself over the opinions of others, whether they were fellow police officers or suspects or anyone in between. His father had been the same, his aunt and uncle had once told him, and he took comfort in that fact; he much preferred to be like his father than his mother.
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Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Dulce
Nov 26, 2010 23:16:58 GMT
Post by Elle on Nov 26, 2010 23:16:58 GMT
Nodding, the waiter strode off deeper into the restaurant that was quickly becoming quite busy and Élodie turned her attention back to Chris. "I can't help it," she declared. "You're a carnivore and I can't be expected to give you sound advice on these things," Elle retorted with amusement, raising an eyebrow at him across the table; lazy teases assured her that things were going well and so far they were having a nice evening.
Honestly she wouldn't have been that bothered had he wanted to drink from a bottle either; she might have a certain reputation in the public eye that she was required to maintain but it didn't mean she impressed any kind of etiquette on those she socialised with, she would happily smile if she happened to bump into someone who recognised her, or even stop to chat with them if they felt so inclined, but on the other hand she was also a person who had a life outside of her books and her filming schedule. Most of the time people did respect that, and she was thankful for that fact that she wasn't exactly hounded by photographers – she had no idea how the likes of Brad and Angelina managed their day to day lives under that kind of scrutiny, it was ridiculous.
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