rhapsody_in | 15 ♦ Committing crimes redeemed by art leaves me hungry

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15 ♦ Committing crimes redeemed by art leaves me hungry

OOC: Backdated to January 2nd

[Private to Motorcycle Boy]

Piper, I need your help. Bring the knife I gave you.

[There are three things Bleu needs in order to create her pigment: the Colorman's knife, a painting done with the Sacré Bleu, and a Colorman. She has the painting leaning against her cold fireplace, a Vermeer brazenly stolen from Amsterdam. Piper has the knife, and she has Piper.

Her cabin is sparsely lit, only the odd candle breaking through the darkness and casting off a dull yellow glow. She has a lamp full of oil and at the ready, but will keep it unlit until the drapes are drawn. She's dressed simply in a silk nightgown, her door unlocked and a burning taper in her hand as she waits.]

[Public, some time later]

[Bleu shakes out her hair -- this time it's black instead of blue-black -- and brushes it from her face. Her skin is pale now, the slight white-blue tint to it unremarkable for a human. Her eyes are still intensely blue.]

I feel fantastic. Who else is excited for the new year?

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[He has no idea.]

In that case, I'll meet you then. I can wait ten minutes if you insist.

You and your nose will enjoy your breakfast a lot more after those ten minutes, I promise.

If you say so. See you soon.

I do.

[And he absolutely will give her that call - and even shave it down to about seven minutes to shower and get dressed, because the one good thing about the "modern" haircut is that all he has to do is run his fingers through it and let it dry on its own.

So he might be a little damp, but that's got to beat smelly and muddy any day.]

["Modern" is still novel and exciting for Bleu. It shows in her new clothes, her fancy syrup-laden coffee, and the way she wants to ruffle Steve's modern hair.

But this isn't the place for that, and reaching out to take his hand will have to do.]

You didn't have to rush for me.

[The new clothes look really good on her - but he's too polite to stare, at least.

He just grins sheepishly and shrugs.] Nah, I'd hate to keep you waiting. Besides, I'm used to quick showers - back in Brooklyn? Hot water was pretty much a pipe dream, and it only stayed warm for a couple of minutes.

[He squeezes her hand carefully, then nods a head toward the food.] Let me grab something - and you can load me up too, if you like. [He can carry both their breakfasts.]

[Stares are unnecessary; Bleu can recognize the admiration in a quick look, and it's more than enough to make her smile.]

Then I can't blame you. That's even worse than the showers here.

[She squeezes back, not too tight, and chuckles as she turns to the food herself.] That would be very sweet of you.

It was what it was - Bucky's shower is still pretty bad. [But that's because it's straight out of the closet they shared on the SSR base, and that had never been meant to serve in the capacity that it did.] Mine's a little more reliable, nowadays. [Understatement of the century.

And he just grins, grabbing a plate and starting to fill up - then grabbing a second one so she can do the same. His plate's piled pretty high... but he'll probably be back for seconds. Maybe thirds.] Lay on, Macduff.

One more reason to count your blessings, yes?

[She smiles back, taking the plate and trailing after him, her portions rather smaller.] What do you do in this boot camp?

I guess it is. [He's grateful for what he has, don't get him wrong. But he'd trade it all in a heartbeat to undo some of the mistakes he's made.

That's neither here nor there, though - he finds them a table and sets his plate down and pulls back the chair, but he won't sit until she does.] Oh, it depends on the day - right now, though it's survival training. How to keep from freezing fingers and toes off in the cold, how to make sure any water - or ice - you find is safe to drink, how to find or make shelter when there's not much available. How to keep any weapon you have from freezing up when you need it most.

We're hoping no one here ever has to use a thing we show 'em, but... [It might, in all likelihood, be important at some point.] I'm sure you're welcome to join us, if you ever want to.

[Pleased by his good manners, Bleu sets her plate and coffee cup down across from his place and slips into her own chair.]

Did you learn that in the war? Were you ever stranded?

I don't know if I'd have the discipline.

[He waits until she sits before he does - and he starts digging in, but makes sure it's at a relatively reasonable pace, because inhaling his food would be rude, too.] I did - they tried to teach us some of that at boot, but I had a horribly abbreviated version and even the guys who didn't... well, there's nothing like real world experience, huh? [He smiles a little helplessly.] Not so much stranded as cut off from supplies, a few times. Behind enemy lines, a lot. Including my first, uh, "mission."

[Which hadn't been a mission at all.

He smiles at her, shrugging a little.] Well, you might change your tune with a drill sergeant breathing down your neck. But it's not for everyone - and you seem pretty capable of taking care of yourself, to me.

[Or finding her way to people that can help, that counts too.] Honestly, if there was no need for anyone to learn that stuff, I wouldn't really be sorry. You've managed okay for most of these ports, right?

Edited 2015-01-11 05:09 (UTC)

[Bleu normally eats like a lady, slow and delicately, but when she notices Steve's holding back she follows a hunch and leans forward, scooping scrambled eggs onto a slice of toast and taking a big bite.]

Sowvs -- [She covers her mouth, swallowing her food.] Sounds like being stranded to me.

Maybe I would, but you've never seen me first thing in the morning. It may take more than a drill sergeant to get me out of bed.

I hope so. [Getting people to help her or do things for her is one of Bleu's talents. As for the survival skills, after her long lifetime she's picked up the skills, but she agrees with him. Winters without good food or shelter suck. She really doesn't wish it on anyone.

Okay, only a few people.] I've done all right, though they weren't all as good as Amsterdam.

[He can't quite hide the grin as she starts in on her food with a little more enthusiasm - and, whether he even realizes it or not, so does he, and the food on his plate starts disappearing more quickly, even if he's still eating with all the right table manners.]

Not a morning person, then? [he teases lightly.

And honestly, he thinks that even if there are things you can't do for yourself, finding people to help you with them is a survival skill in and of itself. Plus, she's smart, and he thinks she could make do pretty well if she had to, even if he wouldn't wish it on her.]

No, Amsterdam was one of the best places we've been to so far, since I've been here. But maybe just because it's familiar - and we weren't fighting for our lives. That helps, in my opinion. Did you manage to get to all the museums you wanted to see? [He kind of figures she might have gone to a lot, based on where and how he ran into her.]

Not when I don't feel like it. [Swabbing at her mouth with a napkin, she chuckles.] But I'm rarely anything if I don't feel like it.

[She's sharp, yes, and has gotten through a lot of harsh conditions, but she prefers the skills used after survival is ensured.]

Not many people would disagree with that. [Bleu shrugs, trying not let her smile brighten.] More or less. I got what I wanted out of the port. [She dragged multiple people to multiple museums, and had hand-picked her own souvenir.]

Now that, I'd believe. [But he honestly sees that as a good quality, for the most part, because it means she doesn't let people boss her around, dictate who she is.]

I guess not, [he chuckles mildly.] Most of us don't relish mortal peril, after all. [Although he looks pleased when she says she got what she wanted, although maybe that could be construed several different ways.] That's good. Did you pick up the clothes there, too?

Besides the Admiral. He seems to like mortal peril, or at least likes risks. Lucky for me I've gotten off light. [She shrugs self-deprecatingly.] It's been a long time since I practiced with a crepe pan.

These? No, they were a gift. Speaking of which, I never thanked you for yours. [She beams, reaching across the table for his hand.] The portrait is beautiful. You have more talent than you say.

He does - although you've got to wonder if he's ever felt it, himself. [Steve's got this theory, at least, that the guy hasn't - which is why he likes watching all of them scramble around. Sometimes he wonders if this Barge isn't as much for entertainment as it is for doing good.]

Well, ideally, you'll never need to use it again - although it's probably good to stay in practice, [he says with a smile -

Which grows broader, and certainly more pleased, when she thanks him for the gift and touches his hand. Mostly because she likes it, even more than at the praise, because the point was for her to like it.] I did promise you my first one - so I figured I'd better make it one worth seeing. I'm just glad you like it - I tried to do the subject justice, but it has been a while.

And thank you, too, for all the supplies. I guess I'm likely to get a lot more practice in, these days, with all of that just waiting to be used. So if you need anything else for your walls... [And he's really looking forward to it, given how high-quality the stuff is.] Or anything marked up permanently, [he adds with a laugh.]

If he hasn't, I'm sure it's not for lack of trying. [It may be that, the Admiral looking down at the Barge and shaking the proverbial ant-farm when he wants to cause trouble.]

Ideally I won't, but in reality I will. Something to apply myself to this year, clearly.

[Bleu ducks her head bashfully, winding her fingers in between his. Of course she liked it; she couldn't have gotten a better gift. A portrait by one of her artists is a great honor.] Thank you. It's beautiful.

Oh, don't mention it. Just show me what you come up with, and if I ever fall asleep again, promise me you'll put those pens to good use.

That's probably true. Mortal peril is amazingly easy to find, after all.

[And he does have to nod, because she's not wrong.] Hope for the best and prepare for the worst - I guess that applies here, too. Well, if anyone can develop a fighting style with a frying pan, I think it'd be you. You let me know if you need someone to beat up on for practice. [He's pretty sure with his reflexes and healing abilities, he'd be a good practice dummy.

And in the meantime, he will never stop looking pleased or relieved that his gift was so well received. He laughs a little, shooting her a pointed look;] Oh, I will. And I think I already know what color I'll use. [Also pointing out that you, ma'am, do look awfully different.]

Edited 2015-01-19 23:27 (UTC)

It's just a shame no one's worked it out before. [Her smile fades into a thoughtful moue when he offers to practice with her. That may not work; she doesn't know how he'd react to seeing what she can do.] I don't think I'd want to hit you with a pan.

That's because you have good taste. [But hint taken.] Do you remember that Vermeer?

That just means you can be creative as you want.

[Although of course, he figures she doesn't want to hit him because she's too nice, because they're friends, which seems to be confirmed by what she says a moment later. He shrugs a little, still smiling.] I can take a hit a lot better than you'd think. Been doing it my whole life.

[But it was just an offer, and she can take it or leave it as she likes. Besides, he's much more interested in the fact that she might tell him what happened, setting down his fork (which is fine, his plate is about three bites from being empty.] Yeah. With the Sacré Bleu. You said you'd made part of the paint.

[He looks at her quizzically. He still doesn't know what happened, but he definitely didn't think she meant literally. But maybe she did.]

That's the best thing to be, regardless of the circumstance.

I'm not doubting that. [In no way is it an underestimation of his defensive abilities. It's just that, well - she really may be able to hurt him, but even regardless she doesn't want to cause him any harm.] All the more reason for me to refrain.

I did, yes. [She bites the inside of her lip.] Do you remember how I said I was in it? Well, I was.

I guess you'd think so. [He says it with a smile, though, and means it as a compliment.

Still, he gives her a one-shouldered shrug - he's not going to argue into being hit with a frying pan, if she really doesn't want to. And he suspects she won't forget the offer, if she ever needs the help.

Besides, the paint - and apparently the process of making it - interests him more.] Literally, is what it looks like from here.

[He doesn't understand how, and he's dying of curiosity, but he's also sort of weighing how polite versus rude it is to ask.] Is that what you meant?

Yes, literally.

[She's not sure how to describe it aside from that. How does one explain that they're blue, the color?]

Does that bother you?

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