» she saw the pictures and painted them

[thenormalsquint]

Who: Angela and You. YES, YOU!
What: Come be drawn like one of her French girls.
Where: A street corner a few blocks away from the inn.
When: Early Misdi afternoon
Warnings: The warning is... it's Angela.



On this chilly, yet sunny afternoon, Angela Montenegro can be seen walking down on of Baedal’s many streets, dragging behind her is a little red wagon filled to the brim with art supplies. Where she got the wagon isn't important; what is important, however, is what Angela's planning on doing with the equipment.

Setting up is done quickly and easily with the finesse of a pro (this isn't her first rodeo, kids.) One sketchpad is placed on an easel and flipped to a clean page where Angela scribbles in thick black marker:

ART DONE BY PARIS TRAINED ARTIST – 6 SHEKELS EACH PORTRAIT

She stands back and eyes her handiwork before an almost evil grin spreads across her face. And in smaller, but not too small, letters, Angela writes the words:

NUDES ARE WELCOME. 1 MARK.

And in even smaller letters:

PLEASE HELP ME NOT STARVE. SUPPORT THE ARTS!

And in almost illegible letters towards the bottom right corner of the page:

Please? I don't want to do death masks anymore. ):

Comments

[thenormalsquint]

"I'll take your advice when I find my own place. And not call you for any home construction." But that doesn't mean she won't call him to come lay some pipe or so. Just saying.

With a few more strokes, Angela drops the chalk back into the tin box, where it clatters loudly as she plucks the pad of the easel and turning it to Bruce. On the paper is a perfect replica, hat included. Sadly, the coffee cup is nowhere to be seen

"Worth six shekels and a tip?"

[caballero]

Bruce is still a little weirded out by things like contemplating his own appearance - for plenty of reasons that go past alternate universes, even - so when he looks at the sketch, he tries not to think too hard about it. Angela's work is good, though. He's impressed, and then smiles a bit at her.

"What kind of tips are you collecting?"

[thenormalsquint]

"A couple extra shekels, where to find the best sushi, what it takes to get the equivalent of your phone number around here. You know, the usual."

The usual, she says, with the most deadpan look ever as she signs her drawing in the lower right corner, APGM.

[caballero]

He smiles in that unpracticed way again, quiet, as he takes out his wallet. There's a pen shoved in his pocket, too - along with a million other things, he's good at not looking like the walking Swiss army knife that he is - and he doesn't say anything as he writes down his CiD number on 1 mark bill.

(The thing he said he couldn't afford, yes.)

It's a little riskier than he usually plays it, but he's feeling a bit cavalier today. A remark from years ago - Maybe if you pretend to have fun, you'll have a little by accident - plays through his head. Maybe Tom likes beautiful women who happen to look like the kind of women Bruce Wayne finds attractive. Maybe he does this kind of thing; hell, maybe he doesn't, and he's just going for it.

He hands it to her.

[thenormalsquint]

Angela's assumed the guy, who didn't seem uptight but reserved in that way she's not, was just entertaining her flirtation and when he begins rooting around in his pocket, she turns to tear the sheet away from the pad, rolling it up and tying it with a bit of ribbon brought for said use. When she turns back and sees that mark in his hand, she can't help but huff a laugh.

"Now I feel like you just didn't trust me enough to do your penis any justice."

[caballero]

That gets a laugh out of him, though it's brief and still quiet. And because there's no cover in the world that'll get him to actually talk about his dick to a stranger, he swerves into the perhaps even more ill-advised retort of: "...Well, considering where we are, wouldn't you be worried somebody had tentacles?"

Why, Bruce.

[thenormalsquint]

That's okay. Angela will just talk about his and other people's dick for them both. Also their breasts, vaginas, and pretty much every other part as well.

"Do you have tentacles?" Angela answers a question with a question and raised eyebrows because right now, his is only really the only body she's concerned about.

[caballero]

"No." He's not against tentacles if you're supposed to have them, but let's just, you know, clear that up here.

And lo, the bill is exchanged for the sketch. If Angela decides to notice he wrote down his number on it later... who knows. If she ever calls, maybe he'll pick up, maybe he won't. He'd probably like to, but one never knows with Bruce's mysteriously oscillating social ennui.

"Thanks."

[thenormalsquint]

"Then there's nothing for me to worry about." For now. "And no, thank you."

For the money and the number she notices on the bill. He can expect a call sometime soon. Maybe a text. Late at night. Yeah, Angela's that kind of woman.

[caballero]

So that went well. Somehow.

Bruce raises the rolled up sketch in a little gesture that's both a salute in thanks and farewell.

"Take care."

And he's off.