You'd Be Suprised(open)

[mimimarquez]

Mimi had always loved art. From paintings to words scribbled on paper, she'd always held a fondness for any kind she came across. Of course, with her background people might think that she didn't even know how to pronounce art.

When she'd been in that horrible Herion induced daze, walking through life though thinking she was just living, her love hadn't diminished, just become overshadowed by the love for the drug her body had physically needed. But now that she was out of it, she finally thought it was best to go out and look and see if there was anything she'd missed.

So, leaving the loft in her signature cheetah print jacket and hat with a pair of tight black jeans and a long-sleeved pink shirt on, Mimi went into one of the many museums, able to charm her way into not having to pay. It wasn't that she didn't want to be a good citizen and pay, she just couldn't--she needed her medicine more.

Looking around at all the paintings, Mimi felt a happy elation spread in her chest as she went and looked at one of them. She was so distracted by the returning of her old passion for the things surrounding her that she let out a small shriek when she bumped into somebody.

[raoul]

It had been too long since Raoul had been in a museum. That number, for him though, amounted to weeks rather than months. He had just gotten so busy with the New York City social scene; he never tired of it mentally, but it could be physically exhausting. There was something relaxing about the quiet dignity of a museum that he much preferred to raucous parties.

His mother had instilled into him a love of art that extended to everything from painting to sculpture to operas – the last one, in particular, but that was probably just because his mind had never quite forgotten the music of that lilting voice in the stories of his Little Lotte, and he was not too biased as to not enjoy other types. The museum was not particularly high-end but he had been to all of the rest now, and he wanted to see this one.

What he did not see, though, was the woman who was walking his way until she had already bumped into him. He was startled by her shriek and put his hands out to steady her, recovering from the surprise and regaining his composure within an instant to give his most charming smile of apology. “Are you alright? Forgive me,” he murmured, voice low as to not further disturb his fellow patrons. “I must have gotten lost in the art.”

Too polite to merely walk away from someone after such a meeting and far too sheltered to realize that they might want him to go away, he continued pleasantly, “I have not been here often; have you?” He did notice that her attire was not the sort that his normal companions would wear, and was certainly different from his nice suit, but he had grown more or less accustomed to such things – he was in New York City, after all.

[mimimarquez]

Mimi turned her eyes to the man she'd bumped into, steadying herself with his help. "Oh..." she said, then gave her own smile. "It's fine, I guess I did too." Mimi looked around once more, then brought her eyes back to him when he asked her if she'd been here often. More of a comment better for the bar, but oh well.

"No, uh, not recently." she lightly put a lock of hair behind her ear only to have it fall again, and shrugged. "Just haven't really had the time, I guess." she tried to halfway explain, though she knew this wasn't even close to the truth. She'd been too wrapped up in the drugs and her own problems that art had taken a backseat in the backburner of her mind. "I'm Mimi." she said, figuring it'd be polite to introduce herself. As she held out her hand, the dancer noticed for the first time, his clothes. Swanky. "Mimi Marquez."