Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 5 May 2005 |
| Who: | Hirah (as Devon), Sapphira (as Damaris) |
| What: | Two Andrealphans renew their acquatinance at the local Barnes & Noble. |
Barnes and Nobles
With large plate glass windows looking in upon a self-contained coffee and pastry shop, Barnes & Noble's success as a chain bookstore is owed to the lengths it goes to cater to the avid and casual book reader. Bestsellers and new releases of all genres are close to the doors, the lobby filled with discount books. Across from the cashiers' lines is the periodicals sections, stuffed with magazines that focus from wedding extravaganzas to military aircraft to cutting edge computer design. The books are arranged in a fairly predictable pattern, with non-fiction nestled between the reference and metaphysical and self-help books. Fiction is separated into sci-fi and fantasy, romance, mystery, just as one would expect. Along the left side and back walls are large glossy imaged books full of recipes, gardening delights, and artistic endeavors. Oddly enough, the rear and right portions of the store are raised upon a podium-like level, housing most computer guides and the brightly carpeted children's section dotted with familiar, favorite characters.
Ah, the smell of books. There's nothing like it. Except, of course, for the smell of cologne and recent coitus as Devon Harrison browses through the magazine section of the book megastore. Sighing at the selection of 'alternative' mags, Devon asides to himself, "Borders always has such better gay rags. Most liberal city in Texas, my ass...." though not really loud enough for anyone else to hear. Picking up a copy of Instinct briefly, he leafs through to look at the photos of some wet rock star in half-unzipped jeans and nothing else. A half-empty latte cup sits on the rack next to him.
Another person is also moving through the magazine stacks. "Hello again, Devon," Demaris Sence murmurs at the male as she approaches his location. "Find anything worth keeping today?"
Hirah gives a small start and drops the magazine, the pages falling open on the floor to show a suggesitve ad of two men in some obscure attempt to sell beer. "Demaris, I should have known," he gives a smile. Very few others could walk up on him unnoticed. He gives a mild shrug, "Not much here today, slim pickings." He sighs and bends down to pick up the mag. "People seem to be staying out of public as much as possible lately. Disease or some similar scare."
She might have tight-legged heeled boots but that doesn't mean she can't move in them as if she was barefoot. "Yes, something at the airport sending a frenzy of worry through the city. How else could I leave my shop in the middle of the afternoon?" Damaris says with a faint sigh, crouching to pick up the magazine. Admiring the men in the ad for a moment, she idly flips through the rest of the magazine. "Smells like you've been keeping busy yourself lately."
With a desultory wave of his hand, Devon acknowledges the obvious. "Its not hard, in an area as repressed as this one. And college students are so willing. Though there is a new challenge I've been working on. A woman who works for that DuPont company... don't know if you've seen her. Tall, black, always dressed to the nines. I keep seeing her around and almost had her on her knees a couple of weeks ago, but I want to take it slow. Could be interesting to see what happens."
Damaris narrows her eyes slightly, the vague description starting to ring some bells. "DuPont and Nicholas Lyman? I'm aware of the... basic nature of Lyman. I may or may not have met this other woman in passing, at the Lux," she muses. "Tell me, did you have her do anything of amusement while on her knees?"
"Kacela Howard," he responds with a smirk. "Lyman's associate, they both spoke at the university some time ago. Dedicating some new program or something. It was boring. And I haven't gotten her alone yet, she's always with some other people." His eyes narrow at mention of Lyman's nature, though. "What kind of nature do you mean? Something a little more than he seems?"
"The more the merrier, if you can't get her alone," Damaris smirks before shrugging her shoulders in a fluid motion. "His most basic nature is like ours, or so a Hellsworn that I've spoken to says. Though he does not share the same thing that we do, Devon."
Hirah hmms slightly, "If Lyman is what you say, I need to be more cautious. Especially since they seem so close." He looks up at her, green eyes narrowed slightly. "Which means a group 'party' might be more than I could handle. But if I could get closer to her, I might be able to get some clout in DuPont. Or at least find out if she's worthy of such attention."
"Why bother with DuPont when you could have easier amusement at one of his other holdings?" Damaris asks, having stopped flipping through the magazine to admire the jean-wearing rockstar. "Now there's a specimen I wouldn't mind spending my afternoon with. Anyhow, the Lux - that swanky piano bar downtown - is also his. Go there and get dirty in the way we like."
Devon smirks at the photo, "You and half of America, gay or straight. The Lux? Haven't been there yet... I'll have to dig something appropriate out of my closet. I'm guessing my mesh tanktop and skin-tight jeans won't go over well there." He flashes a white, alluring smile. He pauses a moment as a cerebral-type guy walks by, glancing at the two demons and the magazine area they're blocking currently. "Hmmm," he muses as he makes eye contact briefly. "Does our mutual... mentor have any current instructions?"
Damaris slides a sidelong glance towards Devon. "Yes, but I have a chance to hold him for a few hours, dear, while other women or men could only dream of it," she responds with a teasing smile. "To my knowledge, no. But I can place a request if you'd like and we may be able to get something."
Hirah lets out a small laugh. "Well, if you get that close to monsieur le rock star, save some for me. I'd love to see what makes such a narcissist tick. But yes, I suppose I should check in. Especially with so much going on here, now. Let me know... you know how to find me."
Damaris tips her head slightly forward in a nod. "Certainly. You can also find me at my store in this area. You might have heard of it... Fetish Footwear."
The Habbalite smiles, "Of course. My art studio's just a few blocks away. Just make sure to knock first," he winks.
"Spoil sport," the demoness grumps goodnaturedly.
"Unless I have willing company, and then you're welcome to come on in." With a wave, he walks off after the brainy-looking guy that strolled by earlier. You can just hear him say, "pretty good picture of Orlando Bloom on the cover, eh? Going to see Warriors of Heaven?...."
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