A Moment of Introspection (Locked to Verity)

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

Schön keeps an office in the Nexus, although he does most of his work outside it, an opulent retreat from the timeless bustle outside. Richly colorful Oriental rugs allow only glimpses of a polished oak floor. The desk is a monolith of mahogany, inlaid with accents of rosewood and teak, carved with reliefs of twining roots and branches, of fanciful creatures, and of faces peeking from among the leaves. The chairs before and behind the desk are upholstered in silk and buttery-soft leather, the one behind the desk tall and evocative of a throne.

The walls, papered in a deep Chinese red pinstriped with navy, are densely clustered with art in a dizzying array of styles; most are paintings, but a few cameos hang as well, and a Stradivarius enjoys pride of place over the mantle. Shelves behind the desk are similarly crowded with books and odd little knickknacks, the former rarely comprising the sort of orderly matched sets that tend to fill shelves behind desks in offices. To one side of the door stand a coat rack and a sideboard loaded with bottles of exotic libations, while to the opposite side stands a small table bearing several indistinct articles over which has been draped a gossamer shroud. Against one side wall sits an overstuffed couch, and in the opposite wall is set a fireplace, where a multicolored flame pops and crackles merrily, sending an occasional swirl of rainbow-colored sparks up the chimney.

The room has also been warded to a fare-thee-well, to keep out prying eyes and ears, ensuring that all which transpires within remains private. The wards, to an extent, even work both ways, for when the door is closed, all the noise from outside falls away.

Hanging up his hat and cane as he enters, Schön turns to offer a hand to escort Verity inside. "Please come in, Ms. Willis, and be seated comfortably. May I offer you anything to steady your nerves?"

Comments

[brave_heart_verity]

"You're welcome."

She looks down for a moment, then shrugs. "'Nice' isn't really my default setting. It's hard for me to trust people."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"Nor is it mine," he admits. "But I begin to understand your reasons. Although I do find myself curious: for someone who has such difficulty finding anything in art, you have certainly forged an intimate tie with it." He nods to her arms, with the question implied.

[brave_heart_verity]

"Oh. I just. Think they're pretty." She gives a little shrug. "I like flowers."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"And the figures? The faces?"

[brave_heart_verity]

"I hired an artist to design them. Someone who did tattoos on a regular basis. There were some similar ones she'd done before that I liked. It's really not anything deep, Schön." She's a little sorry to disappoint him.

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"Is it not?" He's still curious. "Why tattoos? And on both arms? Not on a whim, surely, those would have taken several sessions each."

[brave_heart_verity]

"I'd admired tattoos, good work, for a long time. And the women who get beautiful tattoos and walk through the world without being bothered by it. I guess I just so wanted to be one of them..."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"To don the mask, and so become it?" he hazards.

[brave_heart_verity]

She gives a slow nod. "Isn't that what people always say? Fake it 'til you make it?"

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"Such advice is often given," he concedes. "Still, an interesting stance for one who craves truth. The irony is rich."

[brave_heart_verity]

"Yeah I know," she sighs. "I never said I was perfect."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"Perfect is dull," he assures her. "Perfect symmetry is shallowly pretty, but it's the subtle distinctions that merit deeper attention."

[brave_heart_verity]

"You're one to talk," she points out with an arched eyebrow. He is ridiculously pretty, whichever face he's wearing. "But thank you."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"I'm not perfect, am I?" he purrs.

[brave_heart_verity]

"Obviously not," she points out with a smirk. "A perfect gentleman would buy a girl dinner before feeling up her spells."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

Schön's jaw drops, and for a long moment he simply stares at her, astonished at her sally. At last, he manages a weak, "that, that isn't... wh..."

Then it clicks. "You're teasing again."

[brave_heart_verity]

She's impressed herself with her ability to not laugh at him before he figures it out. This isn't going to last.

"Yes. Well done, we'll teach you how to joke yet."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"Have a care, Ms. Willis," he cautions her, though his tone is light with restrained laughter, "are you certain you wish to tease one of the fae, and be teased in turn? Who knows what could happen?"

[brave_heart_verity]

She tries to look sober and serious when he's "warning" her, but it doesn't last. "You promised you won't hurt me today," she reminds him, "so I think I'll be okay."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"So I did," he concedes, "but what said I of mischief?"

[brave_heart_verity]

"Mischief I can handle." He's no Loki.

Then again, Loki liked her. Maybe she shouldn't be so confident.

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

His lips curl in a sly smile. "Duly noted, Ms. Willis, duly noted."

[brave_heart_verity]

She hums softly before admitting, "You don't strike me as the mischievous sort."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"You may wish to hurry your way to fairy tales," he teases, "they'd tell you all the fae have mischief in their hearts."

[brave_heart_verity]

"I thought I was supposed to be reading Aesop's Fables," she points out. "Isn't that all tortoises and hares and things?"