Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 28 March 2005 |
| Who: | Kacela, Nicodemus |
| What: | A grateful Lyman spoils Kacela. Just shopping. Really. |
Houston - Texas
With expansive green space as a result of somewhat sensible urban planning, Houston is one of Texas's largest metropolitan areas, graced with extensive highway systems and a decent transit system as well. The museum district features many architectural riches, echoing the intellectual treasures within. Convention centers, the stadiums that houses the Aeros, the Rockets, the Comets, and the Astros, all beckon visitors to come from out of state, demonstrating just why the metropolis was nicknamed Space City.
Kacela's favourite car among Lyman's fleet is left in the mall parkade, a single beep resonating through the cement cavern, signaling the parting between the Mazda RX8 and its master. Yes, he drove this time. Starting for the elevator that will whisk them up to the main floor and consumer spending, Lyman bows cordially, "For some reason, I feel the need to spoil you, Ms. Howard. Perhaps it is the only way I know how to say thank you. Thank you, for taking care in my hour of need." He says this with genuine affection, over the patter of his dress shoes across the cement.
After more wind and miles than she had been prepared for, Kacela finds herself walking amiably alongside Nicholas, humming pleasantly to herself. "Well, not telling me where we were going did... disturb me some, but I suppose if I had crossed you in anyway, I would have known." However, a glance is sent his way. "Tribute hardly need to be spent to maintain my loyalties," she practically coos out, before having the elevators open to a four-story, skylight illuminated financial playground of nine different stone types of intricate mosaics, light refracting from glass balconies above from the Galleria in Houston. She stares some at the mostly empty ice rink before them. "Goodness. That's..." She seems a bit speechless, but intent on avoiding the ice. "Since you're treating, I'd expect some input from you on how you want you money spent. You should get some things for yourself as well. Another suit or two perhaps... light colors, darker undershirt..." Her eyes dance in amusement at the fashion advice.
At the suggestion that Kacela may have been in danger coming away with him for weekend shopping, Lyman smiles wide. "Oh, if that were the case it would have been a shorter trip," he nudges playfully, "Canyon Lake is where I normally handle that kind of business." It is on that note, that the elevator doors part and Kacela gets her first look at the extravagance that is the Galleria. All the while, Lyman carefully monitors her response, just as he did when she climbed behind the wheel of the RX8. He takes pride in her awe. At the ice rink, Lyman nods, "Almost obscene, isn't it?" He cackles, since this is what he lives for, "Oh, no input from me, my dear. Whatever your little heart desires. Though I do wish to replace the dress that was ruined during our encounter with Tyrr. And yes, I think I am in need of another good suit."
Kacela allows a decidedly malevolent laugh at his wicked humor. "I see that I'm contagious when it comes to tongue in cheek comments," she jests slightly, shoulders squared and gaze held upwards as she sizes up the establishment. She seems content enough to wander, saying, "Mammon's done well for himself, I see little of the Archangel of Trade's hand in this, since this place has a reputation for being overpriced. But if someone's well off enough to not care about it being overpriced, well, all the more power to them, no?" However, she skids to a practical near-halt as she catches the metallic oranges, browns, and reds of the Spring 2005 Gucci collection. "This may wind up being easier than I thought," she realizes, emphasizing her typically spartan, decidedly disciplined, background. Ah, hedonism, how you've taken root!
Like a father that has set his daughter loose in a pet store, Lyman wanders closely behind, giving Kacela that first step so she might follow her desires. She may have whichever puppy she finds. All Lyman is waiting for is, "This one! This one!" He waits patiently, seeming to deflect the point about his wealth and spending with a shrug and humble tilt of his head. Though his pride glows brightly in his face, on the wide grin that is painted across his lips. Then, finally it happens. Lyman's little girl rushes into Gucci. "Excellent taste," he muses, waving for one of the sale associates to come immediately, "Trying anything on?" Evidently, Lyman is not a typical male. He can take a woman shopping and bare the waits and the surroundings of women's fashion. In fact, he almost seems eager to see what Kacela slips into.
That infinite patience will not be tested today. Kacela isn't the typical female when it comes to shopping, and knows enough about her own body and wants to dismiss items based on their color, fabric, pattern, and cut by a mere flick of the eyes. She spends the minimum amount of time needed to remain polite with the hostess (since there are no cashiers in here, honey). Anyone watching her move between the displays might be compelled to think of herding, or hunting, dogs, with the purpose and ease of her motion.
Little time passes before she's narrowed the options down to three favorited ensembles. The first is a mostly black set, with slacks of an appropriate eye-catching gloss, matched with a sheer top featuring velvet sections crisscrossing over shoulders and the stomach reminiscent of a corset, accented with gold accents perched atop each breast. The second, matched copper tone knee-length skirt and top set, the upper piece crossing two swaths of fabric over chest, and a flash of red satiny material where each of the three-quarters sleeves join with the bodice of the top. Thirdly is a three piece outfit, Kacela's taste in sensual fabrics reflected in the crimson, almost burgundy, velvet of the bodice is covered in a sleek coppery woman's short jacket, topping out over the dark chocolate satin shimmer of wide bottomed slacks. "We still need to take care of you," she says, as she politely catwalk-pirouettes for him, waiting a decision on his part.
Each time that Kacela emerges from the dressing room, Lyman is waiting close by, his arms neatly folded across his chest as if prepared for some in depth analysis. When the third outfit is modeled, he raises his hands in the air, bringing them together in a silent clap, "Splendid, my dear. Miss Sence will be outdone." Then, as if to keep Kacela walking the runway for him, he gestures for a grace period, "We will. But what you said earlier, has me worried. Light suit and dark under shirt? Planning to dress me up, are you now?" Finally, he notes the pointed look from Kacela, "Oh, you want a decision from me? Do you have a favourite? Or do you want me to buy all three?" Suggesting that he can and will, Lyman unfolds his arms and reaches into his coat pocket...
Kacela parks in one of the parlor chairs, resting palms on the hand rests with unconscious regality as she tilts her head upwards to regard Nicodemus. "Perhaps go for more modern, updated urban chic. Austin isn't quite the size of Houston, but in the age of fast cars and the internet, there's no reason to pursue trends once one is made aware of them." A light smile begins to form on her features as she positively basks in the attention. "You can choose, although..." As he makes the gesture, she says, "That might be a bit too much gratitude," she defers, color rising in her face despite her already dark skin tone. "And only if you wish to be treated like a dress up doll. You didn't bring your men for a reason today, I'd wager they'd be all abuzz about the hoops we'd put each other through." A hand is raised to stifle coy laughter.
Producing a gold credit card, Lyman does not seek out the hostess. No doubt, she has heard "sale" in their voices and is hovering close by. So, he simply and casually holds the card out to his side, hanging it in the air until the woman snaps it up. All the while, he keeps his focus on Kacela, never once looking to see where his gold card is taken. "No, they have little training in men's or woman's fashion," Lyman says, joining Kacela in laughter as talk turns to his body guards, absent today for their trip to Houston, "And no, I don't mind. I trust your opinion. I had merely hoped I was beyond female fashion advice at this point. I'm not so hopeless, am I?" He must be joking as he eyes the suit he has on, apparently questioning its appearance.
Kacela looks hurt, and dips her chin towards him. "I wasn't saying that, no!" A hand is waved at him even as she rolls shoulders inside the jacket, clasping hands together. "You're ahead of the pack, and no one's going to argue with you about your outfits, even if they are from the competition," she teases out, referencing the don's Versace grey right in the middle of the Gucci store. She gestures grandly to the door, once the transaction is settled and the bags containing the other two selections presented to her. "I'll let you take care of, well, you. It's utterly fascinating, in an abstract sort of way. And things will be back to business once we return to Austin."
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