the video is an alterer motive [henry][casual]

[misscarew]

outfit

It was a cold early winter evening and Miss Emma Carew had nothing to do. She had been painting all day, her jeans splattered with more paint then they had been when she started as was her shirt and there were even some splatters of paint in her hair. She was working so hard she didn't care. She was doing what she loved...even if no one was going to get to see it. She'd never let anyone see her work and she doubted anyone ever would. She was afraid no one would like her work...but she'd never tell anyone that. She worked on one painting all day and it was finally finished. She was so pleased with how it turned out. It was almost abstract but she had used all shades of blue that reminded her of Henry's eyes.

His eyes...God, why couldn't she get them off her mind. He was just some guy she'd hung out with a few times. He could be more that that but she wasn't sure yet. She just knew she wanted to see him again...but how? What could be the reason? She pondered that as she cleaned off her brushes and put her supplies away. She remembered he worked at a video store...and it'd be SO long since she'd seen a movie. It's about time she saw one again...and saw Henry along the way.

Emma cleaned herself off and changed into a black and purple stripped sweater, kept her paint splattered jeans and grey knee high boots. She straightened her new fringe (bangs) and made sure her new hairstyle looked right. She pulled on her black coat and tan purse and decided to head off to the mall to see Henry...er...get a movie. She made sure she remembered where it was in the mall and made her way slowly to it, looking like she didn't have a purpose. When she reached the video store, she wandered in slowly and started to wander through the rows of movies.

[ricketts]

I lay down on the
cold ground

Henry rapped the counter with the tip of the pencil. Fashionably old purchases - tapes, cassettes, replicated items of Hollywoods past, stacked the display cases, vieing with each other in artistic and critical comparisons. He watched the breaking day, through the glass pane, with a slightly turned head. The supervisor, Bob, had left some thirty minutes ago.

Into this atmosphere of mustiness and antiquity the customers had come and gone, got the videos, the cardboard cut-outs according to their tastes, which prevailed a charming fashion. Their presence diffused a delicious air of warmth and fragrance. Outside, the light continued to fade. Stay roughly near six, Bob had asked. The man was waiting for an order of seventies ilk, and if they arrived within the next twenty minutes then Henry would sign for them. If not, he could just go home.

He dropped his head a minute, breathling loftily through a movement of the lips. While his eyes remained sad and as if lost in a far away dream. Thus overshadowed they were verily the eyes of a man disquieted. A thought came to mind, though. Kitty would be home when he got there, and that effect had superior quality. A forestalled smile, so subtle and small, hinted his face.

Delayed, Henry was, in noticing the presence of someone else in the shop with him. As if drawn, he turned his head a little around him. It was an infinite relief to recognize a friend, his artist friend Emma, at that, and he stood almost as silent as ever behind his counter. Waiting for her to come out from one of the showcase rows, he sounded a short, 'Hey,' and dipped his head in a sign of greeting, with the old pleasant smile.

'Anythin' I can help with?' He teased, with a gentle acquiescence.

[misscarew]

Emma had never been to that video store but she liked it already. It reminded her of an art supplies store in a small shop in Cardiff where she use to spend all her time. It felt like so long ago, her days in the shop. Ever since she was a little girl, she would spend time in that stop and when she was thirteen, they offered her a job. It didn't pay much or anything but she was always in there so she didn't mind. The owner even told her before she left for America that, if she ever came back, there would be a job for her. She thought that was very nice of them. They didn't have to but honestly, they probably like having her around, since she knew how to use about 95% of the products and was learning more and more every day and she was also very sweet, something that was a rare quality apparently in artists. Most who came in there were very rude, even to the owners but Emma never was...or she tried not to, since she did have a darker side no one ever really saw.

As she browsed the store, one thought stole into Emma's mind. She had been trying to convince herself that Henry Jekyll was just another guy, nothing special about him...apart from his eyes. That didn't stop her from thinking. If he was just another guy, why couldn't she get him off her mind? Even if she was concentrated on her art, he always stole into the back of her mind and would influence her work. Today, the color of his eyes found their way into the piece she was working on. Who knows how he would influence it tomorrow or the next day? She couldn't know but she did know she wouldn't tell him about that ever. Maybe it was weird or something but Emma didn't feel right telling him that he was inspiring her work.

Emma knew she'd be in the store for a while so she undid the belt and buttons on her coat, letting it hang open as she browsed the shelves. She came around the corner of the row and was rounding it when a voice reached her ears. 'Hey,' She lifted her head. "Hello Henry." she said with a smile spreading, across her pretty face. 'Anythin' I can help with?' He was teasing her. "I'm not sure. Guess I'm just lookin' for something to watch tonight" she said, "Any suggestions? Since you work here and all."

[ricketts]

There was a rustle of receipts as Henry, with perfect simplicity, dusted them aside and gave a short preliminary cough. These forgotten sensations rose up once more out of the depths of his consciousness, and, for an instant, a wave of the old warmth swept over his soul, for one moment he tried to imagine that he was still that same old friend. None of these miserable things were true.

'Yeah, guess I do.' He said, passing through the gate of the counter and leaning back on the horizontal surface. As he crossed the threshold, all this illusory ferment died away on the instant, for Henry came forward to greet Emma with his habitual and somewhat ambiguous smile.

' .. Suggestions?'

His aspect visable changed, thinking it through while a glow of assesment dyed his pale features. He folded his lean arms over each other and scratched the top of his head only slightly with his middle finger. His boss would have known better what to say, Henry never being the best at making educated guessed having gone directly from handyman to walking catalogue. They, he and his boss, never found any point of contact in all their passionate discussions of interests; and the matter was no more settled between them, now that Henry had succumbed, than it had ever been. But at least the wrangling about it was over: they were grave together, almost silent, and an uneasiness prevailed.

It could be safely said, that he did not get along with Bob as well as he had with Hank.

Henry's eyes wandered toward the clock, before he decidedly waved one of his hands toward an aisle, before crossing them again. 'Um, you might be likin' the art films? They're all relics, like. There's a few good ones down there by tha' Salvador fella' and .. umm, ... '

Determination was taken but after a brief silence, he slowly looked at Emma and meekly laughed. ' .. Y'know what I dun't even know 'is name.'

[misscarew]

Emma smiled softly, watching Henry come out from behind the counter out of the corner of her eye. She was pretending to busy herself with reading the back of a video box. She didn't want him to catch her looking at him. She'd be blushing then. Henry Jekyll was the one guy she'd ever met that she couldn't get off of her mind. It confused her but it also fasinated her. To think one guy couldn't get off this little Welsh artist's mind, a mind which had always been so focused on her art. She saw his expression as he tried to think of something to tell her for a suggestion. "If ya can't think of anythin', it's fine, really." she told her friend with a bit of a smile, "I'm sure I can find somethin' around here." Her Welsh accent was strong as always but something about that day made it sound even stronger than usual and she didn't know why.

For the moment, Miss Carew's focus turned back to looking over the end cap of the row, acting like she was intently looking for something. 'Um, you might be likin' the art films? They're all relics, like. There's a few good ones down there by tha' Salvador fella' and .. umm, ... .. Y'know what I dun't even know 'is name.' She thought for a minute. "Hmm..." she said softly, "Could you mean Salvador Dali? He's the only Salvador I know of...of course, I don't know of many..." she blushed a bit. [b"...didn't even know he made films, let alone who with..."

[/b] She admitted, laughing a bit. "But they do sound interestin'..." She spotted where they could be and made her way down to it.

Emma's eyes went directly to a title that captured her interest and she picked it up. After quickly reading the back, she headed back up to Henry. "Okay," she said, "This one looks interestin'..." She smiled a bit, "Mind ringin' me out?" she asked, nodding to the register. She headed over to the counter and placed the tape down on the counter. "Hey," she said softly, "When do ya get off?" She smiled a bit, "Maybe we can hang out for a bit..."

((sorry a responce took so long. Theater school keeps me SUPER busy...hope this is okay, Tichy, after everything we've talked about :-) ))[/font][/blockquote][/center]

[ricketts]

A glimpse of Emma, crossing from room to room, suggested a precaution. Henry, drawing a hand softly over his head, said in his clearest notes. ‘Must be ‘im then, yeah.’

He eyed her vacantly for a moment, and, following rather his own curious thoughts than seeking any light on this somewhat vague explanation, again broke the silence. Suddenly all attention, he nodded, and encouragingly smiled. ‘Yeah, o’ course.’ Then he edged softly sideward and returned to his place behind the desk. He could hear himself breathing now: long, low, quiet, unhastening - the miracle of calm. He felt a quick tremor as he opened the till, a startled movement, and lay his hand on the tape.

More than likely Emma was right, and it was a documentary rather than a film. Few of them were alike except for the dinginess of the print and the sinister smudge of customers past. All were put roughly together into a shelf stack. He dutifully ran his finger down a price list, at the register's side and as he did so he glances, caught her looking at him inquiringly. 'I get off, um ... ' He cast a look over his shoulder at the wall-clock, and then brought it back. 'Just about now, actually.'

While out of the rather broad serenity of his face, he stood with his head down until she spoke, and he looked up blinking at his friend as if after a long talk, instead of at the beginning of one. 'Thats really nice of ye' to offer, Em. But,' He said kindly, though not without its naivety. There was a hint of a reflective smile on his face. 'I'm havin' a quiet night in wit' me girl t'night.'

Henry rapped a little longer at the till, before looking up at Emma again. He offered her the tape. 'That'll be $3.99.' Came the soft finish.

[misscarew]

Emma went right over to the rack Henry indicated. She picked up the one she would end up buying and read the credits. ‘Must be ‘im then, yeah.’ "Yeah," she said, almost absently mindedly, "It's him." Her Welsh accent rounded her words. Her chocolate brown eyes intently studied the box until she decided it would be the one she was going to buy. ‘Yeah, o’ course.’ "Can't really do it myself." she said with a laugh, "What with me not workin' here and everythin'." She made her way up to the counter and placed the tape down.

'I get off, um ...Just about now, actually.' Emma smiled a very little bit, which brightened her face just enough. "That's convieient." she said softly with a bit of a laugh.

'Thats really nice of ye' to offer, Em. But, I'm havin' a quiet night in wit' me girl t'night.' Emma didn't let her little smile fade or anything. She just blinked a bit and let it sink in. She had put herself out there and got denyed. Last time I'll be doin' that, I think... she thought, mentally kicking herself, Of course, 'e 'as a girl, you silly ass! His voice brought her out of her mental asskicking. 'That'll be $3.99.' "Wha....oh the tape, right..." she quickly pulled her wallet out of her purse, feeling her face start to get warm. After quickly and carefully counting out the correct amount, she placed it neatly on the counter. "There." she said, putting her wallet back in her purse and taking the tape from his hand. "Look, forget I asked, all right?" she said quickly, her Welsh accent thicker than it had been. All she wanted to do was get out of that store as fast as she could at this point.

((kinda based Em's reaction off of how I react when I get rejected. ....and now I'm so not crying for my poor character...no...where would you get that idea?))

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