Participants:
| Scene Title | Never Gave a Damn About the Weather |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | And it never gave a damn about me… |
| Date | February 09, 2011 |
Well, it's one of those days, where Magnes is taking the time to reflect on his life. Though this is one of those unique times where one half is imploding, and another half is flourishing at the same time.
He's hunched over at the bar, taking light sips of Guinness while staring down into his glass. He's wearing a suit jacket over a buttoned up white shirt, blue jeans, and laced up black suede shoes. His thoughts are primarily in the range of: « Valentine's Day is going to suck again, I just know it. »
It's cold and miserable out this afternoon, and the weather is doing its very best to ensure that everyone knows that, no, winter is not over yet. Not by a long shot. The weather doesn't care that people are ready for warmth again. It doesn't give a damn that it threw in a few nice days and got people's hopes up. And it certainly doesn't give a damn that Valentine's day is looming up on the horizon.
Well, Soleil Remi Davignon doesn't give a damn about the weather, because it never gave a damn about her.
The woman is dressed in a pair of designer jeans, a designer long-sleeved top, a drapey vest of sorts, and some nice furry boots, all of which screams 'fashionista' at the very least. She's come to the bar today to relax, since there's typically only a few people here at this time of day. And she's right; the bar is relatively free of people, most of them out at work or doing something else rather than drink this early in the day.
As it stands, Remi let her dancers have a day off today, and in turn she too has the day off. A win-win situation for everyone. She makes her way up to the bar, settling down a few seats away from Magnes. She promptly order herself a cosmopolitan, which will more than likely go the way of most of the alcohol she drinks, which is down the sink. She just likes the taste.
Magnes has only been nursing one glass the entire time, so he's certainly not drunk. He only glances over at the woman once, then looks down into his glass again. « I definitely need to leave the band, but I know I'm setting myself up for some sort of life implosion. God, I just want to relax… »
Remi takes the tiniest sip of her cosmo as it arrives, leaning back in her stool and adjusting that drapey vest of hers so that it settles more over her shoulders. It's cold out there, and the chill lingers a bit after being outside. Briefly, blue eyes turn toward Magnes, brows raising, before she glances back down to her drink. Sounds like that kid is down in the dumps.
Magnes raises a hand above the glass, and his Guinness begins to swirl in a slow circle without him touching it. « I can't believe I turned my girlfriend into a lesbian. Was I that bad of a boyfriend? I mean, I tried my best, doing everything a boyfriend should do… »
Blue eyes are drawn toward Magnes once more, the telepath frowning faintly. Her eyes turn toward the beer, as it begins to foam from being swirled. Beer is testy like that, especially the more stout beers like Guinness. Then, she turns her eyes back up toward Magnes, brows raising. He turned his girlfriend into a lesbian? This is something she's got to hear about. Her French accent thick, she murmurs, "You look under ze weather, non?"
"Oh, yeah, sorry." Magnes offers a weak smile to the woman, then his hand as he politely introduces himself, "Magnes J. Varlane." With a light sip of his drink, he's deciding what to explain… "Me and my girlfriend broke up a few months ago. We kicked around the idea of getting together, but now she's into girls because of me. And, like, I don't know, I just feel like a failure as a guy."
Brows raising, Remi reaches out, taking Magnes' hand. "Enchantée, Monsieur Varlane. I am Soleil Davignon. S'il vous plaît, call me Remi." She nods toward him, before taking a small sip of her own drink, listening quietly. He's certainly quite happy to spout off about his problems. Perhaps he was looking for someone to come along who is willing to listen. At the very least, she'll do that for him.
"Mmm, I don't think she is into girls because of you, Monsieur. You shouldn't flatter yourself so much." Her head tips toward him as she swirls the pinkish-orange liquid around in her glass. "She was likely interested in women before she ever met you, she 'ad likely never 'ad the opportunity to explore zose feelings, oui?" Probably not as helpful as Magnes would like, but she's never been one to sugar coat anything.
"Yeah, I guess that's true… Kind of shot the crap out of my confidence though." Magnes turns to face the bar top again, resting his elbows on to it. "It's not going to kill me, and I was even moving on, but then my father gave me advice, one thing led to another, then I got my hopes up and got them shot in a span of two days." « And now this is probably another Valentine's Day by myself. »
Remi tilts her head to the side, watching the younger man with a thoughtful gaze. "On again off again never works quite right. Can I ask why it ended in ze first place?" She raises her brows, watching Magnes. Her cosmopolitan is raised, sipped, and she swirls the liquid around in her mouth for a moment. "It can be difficult, going through a breakup. It takes time to get over a connection so deep as one zat comes from a relationship." She tilts her head to one side.
"You sound foreign, so you probably haven't seen the news much, but I used to have this habit of running into danger and saving people, risking my life a lot. She hated having to worry about me, and by the time I decided to really take care of myself, it was too late." Magnes takes a longer drink this time, only glancing over at her, but not giving his full gaze. "It's not even the getting over her part, I just got my hopes up again and had them crushed so quickly." « She wants to date my own band mate, of all things… »
The redheaded French woman smiles faintly, tipping her head toward Magnes. "Oui, I am from France." She smiles faintly, swirling her cosmopolitan in its glass. "Per'aps you should worry about taking care of yourself before you worry about taking care of another person, oui? It sounds as if you need to think of you." Remi sips at her drink.
"Yeah, I know, I think I'm finally getting my life on track. I have a career goal, I hopefully still have my friends. It's just…" Magnes pauses to take a drink, while thinking of how to word his thoughts. "It's nice to have that one person who understands you and that you can tell everything."
The woman tilts her head toward Magnes, smiling faintly. "Well, zat is good, at least." She tilts her head to one side. She is usually the one who understands, being able to hear thoughts along with words. It puts things into perspective far more than words alone can. However, she only smiles faintly to the man, running a hand through her hair.
"So, what are you doing in the city? It would be a bit rude to assume that you're a high class socialite just because you're French, but…" Magnes looks her over once, then lightly shrugs with a smile. "You don't exactly seem like you shop at the Goodwill. Hey, wait, didn't we meet before? At Dorchester?"
Remi smiles faintly, offering up a small chuckle. "You would be right in your assumption, monsieur. I am a bit of a socialite, if I do say so myself." She chuckles softly. "But I am also a ballerina." Her brows raise, then, and she nods slowly. "Oui, I believe I did see you at Dorchester."
"It seems I'm getting a lot of high society friends lately. Doctor Blite is trying to teach me to fit in, but I'm not too great." Magnes looks down at her feet when she mentions being a ballerina, his current thoughts generally reflecting what he's actually saying. "I heard being a ballerina is painful."
Friends? Remi wouldn't quite say that yet, but. As he glances to her feet, she smiles. "Oui, it is a very painful form of dance. But I love dancing so much, zat I 'ardly feel it when my feet 'urt." She chuckles. "It's a very free feeling, dancing."
"I don't do much dancing, but in the band we do have our little numbers. I play bass and piano, piano is my first instrument." Magnes looks around, rubbing his chin. "I wonder if they have one in here…"
As he confesses to playing piano, Remi's brows raise slightly. "Ohh, you are a piano player!" She smiles brightly to him. "One of our pianists at American Ballet Theater is retiring, and we 'ave been struggling to find a replacement for 'im. You don't mind 'aving to repeat music often, oui? It involves a lot of repetition." She tilts her head to one side.
"I don't mind at all! But I'll have to ask how frequently you need me." Magnes stresses this as a pretty important question, finally finishing his Guinness. "If it works for my schedule, I'm more than happy to help."
"What is your schedule?" Remi's brows raise. "We need three, per'aps four days a week, but we can be flexible." The redhead sips quietly at her drink, which she hasn't even finished half of yet. Mostly, she drinks for the taste of it.
"I do some work on the advocate, and soon I'll have school and such, but if you can come up with the days you need most, we can work something out later? I can do three or four days a week." Magnes eyes her drink, then turns his stool away from the bar. "When you're done, would you like to go for a walk around the hotel?"
Blue eyes glance down to the drink, and Remi takes a small sip. "If you wait for me to finish zis, we will be 'ere all night." She takes one last sip, before raising to her feet, setting down the payment for her drink. "I can go for a quick walk, I suppose. But I can't stay too long." She pulls out her iPhone, glancing over the time, before smiling to Magnes. "I 'ave a friend coming over tonight for a wardrobe refresh."
"Wardrobe refresh?" Magnes asks with genuine curiosity, offering a hand just in case she wants the help up. "And, if you don't mind me asking, what was it like to grow up in France? Like, what kind of things did you do? The question's a bit vague, but I'm not sure how to get more specific."
"Oui. A friend of mine needs a nice outfit to wear to a special occasion, so I am 'elping 'er out." Remi smiles over to Magnes. "Growing up? I did a lot of ballet and studying. I grew up privileged, compared to many. Top academies, and ze like." She tips her head in his direction. "When I was ten, I went to Russia, to study ballet. I stayed zere for…eleven years."
"You didn't see your parents a lot? I was raised without really knowing any other children, I had to study intensely. My parents didn't want me to pick up habits from other children, so by the time I was a teenager, I didn't know a whole lot about talking to them." Magnes steps out of the lounge area, simply walking down the hall with her now. "I like to think that I learned a thing or two over the last few years." « Not that it's helping much lately. »
"Mmm, my parents were both busy people. My mother, she was ze founder of Davignon Fashion, and my father, 'e is a businessman. I grew up with my butler more zan anyone else." She shrugs. "I studied a lot, but I also worked very 'ard as a ballerina. It isn't zat I didn't know ozer children, it is just zat ze social order of a place like I grew up is very competitive. It's always competitive." She follows quietly after Magnes, tucking her hands into her pockets as she does so.
"I never had to deal with competition, maybe it would have been good for me. The first time I knew competition were the trading card games in comic shops, or, you know, video games." Magnes stops in front of her, pulling out a piece of paper to write his number down and hold it out to her. "Give me a call some time."
Remi smiles faintly, taking the number and slipping it into her purse. "I will, Monsieur Varlane. I will let you know what days will work best for the pianist job. We will pay, of course." She smiles, and offers a dip of her head toward the man. "I should probably go, I 'ave a friend zat needs clozing." She smiles warmly to Magnes. "It was a pleasure to meet you again."
