contact//messaging//¿por qué hacer eso?

[treadingdawn]

[Click.]

[Is this for real?]

[Why yes. Yes it is.]



Hello. Um, this is Caspian--

[BEEEEEEEEEEEP. Sultry woman's voice:]

Hola. Caspian del buzón de voz está roto. Esta es su refrigerador.
Por favor, hable muy despacio y voy a mantener su mensaje a mi mismo con un imán!
Gracias.

[BEEP. End automated message.]

LABEL MESSAGES AS TEXT, TXT MSG, OR AUDIO. EVERYTHING IS PRIVATE, NO PARTY LINES.
Action for Narnia crew, anytime, anywhere, or pre-arranged with anyone else.

Comments

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

Blair likes everything planned, including picnics. The red and white polkadot rug was without crinkles and the rattan basket was filled with delicacies. Sandwiches were so old school. As for herself, she was wearing a dress reminiscent of a day dress; just because there was snow did not mean you could not dress for summer.

Of course, she did not forget to bring Caspian what she promised. A stack of glossy magazines were set beside her, all new and shiny. She was browsing through one of them, quite patiently waiting for her expected companion.

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

Seeing how there was only one other lady in the area, a lady dressed not for the snow at all in his opinion, he could only assume this was Blair Waldorf. But just to be sure, Caspian paused near the rug and tilted his head.

"Pardon, Blair?" He asked curiously but politely.

As for what he brought with him, well there was nothing except for a small box of those strange baked and cinnamon sugared things called churros. They were a foreign thing to him, but the Telmarine found he liked them very much.

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

As if scripted in a movie, Blair looked up pleasantly, a smile already on her face. "Caspian, I assume?"

She put the magazine aside and patted the space beside her. "Do take a seat~" She could smell the food that he brought, it was like cinnamon. Thinking that it could be some Narnian delicacy that he specially prepared, she did not comment on how it smelled of carbs. A little snack shouldn't hurt that bad, not when good company was earned.

"I have to say I'm honored."

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"That's right, I am Caspian," he nodded before accepting her invitation to sit. Carbs? What are those? Of course he wouldn't know but the lean king had no reason to consider calculating them anyway. "Thank you," Caspian added politely, then curiously because she did say she was honored. The immediate question was why, but he didn't voice this. "If the honor is yours, then the pleasure is mine," he countered.

He set the sweets on the rug, near the magazines but careful not to get sugar and crumbs on them.

"I thought I would bring something with me. It is not books or anything particularly educating, but they taste good," Caspian smiled.

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

"Aww~ thank you!" Blair chirped in gratitude. Her voice was sugary sweet, too sweet perhaps, but he would question its sincerity if he only knew her a little better. "What're they called?"

They looked a lot like churros to her, but it could be a passing similarity. She chose the smallest piece and tried to eat it as delicately as she could. It tasted a lot like churros, too. Now that she thought about it, he looked rather Latin --but he couldn't have lied, he was not that kind of person, Blair knew it.

"You're more handsome than I thought you would be."

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

He didn't know any better. He really. Didn't.

"Well, a friend of mine calls them the cinnamon sugar things, but another calls them churros," and yes Caspian rolls his Rs very lightly. He took the other and nibbled, in a gentlemanly manner of course... until she had to say that. The King of Narnia, noble contradiction, a leader amongst 'mythical' beasts and men, could only stare at her. He wasn't being rude, hardly. But... really Blair, really?

"Um, thank you. And you are quite lively yourself," he said, and he hoped he didn't look like a fool.

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

Yes really, Caspian, Really.

There was one cousin of Dorota's that she had the longest crush on; if only he was of more respectable birth. As for Caspian, she did not know much about him, and perhaps he was being careful, but she could tell that he was of noble origins at least. He carries himself well.

Blair laughed lightly, not giggled mind you. "You called me kind, and now lively? Are you sure you're not mistaking me for someone else?" Serena immediately came to mind, but right now, Blair was rather glad her particular best friend was nowhere in sight.

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

He was definitely being careful. When you find yourself in a landscape bereft of your military one had to be. Caspian did have friends here though, and they are more than enough. But it never hurt to be a little careful, neither did it hurt to make friends based on personable matters and not just a crown. In other words, yes, he was of noble origins. The Tenth of That Name. What of her? Caspian felt curious about this woman, this lady who seemed to carry herself confidently but always with a mysterious spark in her eye, the kind that said she knew something you didn't. Maybe he was just seeing things.

"Those are my observations and I am not one to tell a lie, especially when I do not have reason," he nodded, justifying his remarks with another honest smile. "Nor am I mistaking you for someone else, I assure you," he added.

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

Blair was furiously blushing underneath the make up. If you looked hard enough, you could still see traces of pink tinting her cheeks. He did not shamelessly compliment her as some men do, but it seemed to her that whatever he said was more honest than anything she could ever say herself. She smiled, restraining it as not to grin from ear to ear; she did not know how to reply.

"Thank you is all I can say."

After a few counts of silence, she cleared her throat and moved to take a few of the magazines. "Here are the books I talked about."

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"You're welcome." If she was blushing that furiously he might have caught a trace of it, but it would be just as rude to point it out to her and in any case he could always attribute to the colder weather, and nothing more. Speaking of the weather.

"Are you cold," asked Caspian, dressed in modest layers that didn't look very Narnian at all save for the detail worked into the cuffs of his leather boots. But he did have a coat on and was more than willing to offer it to her if she was cold.

As for the magazines, he looked over, eager to thumb through them but not doing so until permitted. He always did like learning, especially learning about Earth. "And I must thank you, for these," not quite books, he noticed, but no less different in form and function, or so he thought. "We don't have photographs in Narnia, and it is difficult to print sketches and drawings," or where I come from only the rich have access to things like books.

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

"Oh, no, I wouldn't ask that of you," Blair said, assuring him with a smile. "Besides, I wanted a change from wearing coats." Fashion before function, of course.

Blair pulled one out from the stack, Harper's Bazaar. It had a platinum-haired model on the cover, the mauve haute couture dress cinching her waist to an unnatural size. But her face was immaculate and perfectly emotionless. "It's fashion; I wonder what part of it you'll be interested in."

She flipped it open to a random page, pushing it closer to him. "Feel free."

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"Are you sure," he asked, if only because she said she wouldn't ask it of him, which didn't mean yes or no to being cold. Come now, let the gentleman be a gentleman.

Well all right, for now Caspian relented, but he did so with a very mildly dubious expression. In a half second his attention already turned to the 'book' featuring quite the pale maiden on its cover. To one such as himself, the dress spoke of the court, of which she must have been a member. Just look at the corsetry. He has heard this word before too, fashion, from the likes of Claire Bennet and an unfashionable Zachary Smith. He pointed to the modern and stylized lacing that reflected bygone eras.

"This is similar to what ladies wear in Narnia, at least the Telmarine women and some from Archenland as well." Maybe it would've been more accurate for him to say the Daughters of Eve, but he didn't think she would understand that reference. No one wanted to try and bind a lady minotaur into a bodice.

At her insistence, he flipped through the pages, noticing the different looks they sport, none of which reminded him of any women he knew.

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

Blair watched him as he flipped through the magazine, curious as to what he thought about it. She knew that most men would say that fashion spreads are interesting to them the way a circus freak is, although others would rather comment on model. She could not picture Caspian taking either sides, but at least he had not made any negative expressions to any of the pages.

She decided to busy herself with food. "I'm glad you brought churros, 'cause I have hot cocoa," she said, maybe more to herself. "Not hot chocolate, but I have hot milk." She took two thermos bottles out of the basket, rummaging further to find two porcelain mugs.

Pouring the drink into each cup, she stole a glance at Caspian, still curious as to what he thought about it.

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

What interested him most was how each photograph seemed more like a painting. In all the time he'd spent in this city, he'd come to understand photographs as something you made for memories or for documentation. This reminded him more of art, something he had to practice as a prince, something he secretly practiced now. Composition, color, and character were all easy to detect in these spreads. And by the way, the women did look beautiful to him, some more ethereal than others, as did the men but they didn't appear to hold the same focus of the pictures as the women.

"They are like paintings," he remarked casually, and honestly.

Did she say hot cocoa?

"I've been told that if you dip the churro in the cocoa it enhances the taste. I tried it once and it was not terrible," Caspian grinned.

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

That was not a bad remark, her mother would have been flattered to hear it too. "I'd say it takes just as much passion and effort to make these shoots as when an artist paints an artwork." Blair dismissed the thought of her mother from her head; what a blot on an otherwise perfect day.

She grinned with amusement at his comment on the cocoa. Did he say enhance? He was so quaint, but in a charmingly adorable way. She never thought naivete would actually appeal to her when she did not have a manipulative scheme in mind.

"I don't usually make them myself, but I hope they're not bad." Down her sink, back in her apartment, were five full bottles of unsuccessful hot cocoa. Not that Caspian will ever know. Still, she hoped it did not taste horrible to him, it would have been very embarrassing.

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"From my understanding, at least they do not have to sit for as long as a model does with a painter," he smiled. If he only truly understood the demanding nature of the fashion industry...

As for the cocoa, Caspian was no amazing spectacle in the kitchen himself. He wouldn't hold that against her.

"Let's see," he said as he lifted the cup to his lips, slowly drawing in a sip, because she did warn him and choking on it would be much worse. As it turned out, it wasn't terrible, and they both should be grateful for it. "Let me assure you I am not doing this to ease any sort of distaste," said the Telmarine as he dipped a piece of the cinnamon treat into his cup, not by much, but enough to soak the tip.

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

"Not months, no. But a fashion model would have to go without much nutrition for just as long." Or for the rest of their career. "But they get to be famous, and more or less worshipped, by men and women. It's a good life really." Not that she wanted that kind of life, of course not.

Blair almost laughed as he gingerly took a sip, but she held it back in case she made him choke by it. She took a sip from her own cup, making a note to herself that it was still a bit too bitter. When he was done, she let out a laugh, also to his unnecessary apology. She ought to be sick of being treated like some delicate ornament to be protected and admired only, but it turned out she was not. At least not when Caspian was doing it so sincerely.

She took another churro and did the same to hers.

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"For their beauty and dedication to their work," he asked, genuinely curious about this life that generated not just fame and fortune but worship as well. It sounded strange, like the stories Helen of Troy, or dare he think it, the outbreak of violence over Queen Susan's beauty and her refusal to marry the Tisroc's eldest son. Was that the kind of good life she meant? Caspian didn't voice this aspect of his wonderment though.

Seeing her repeat the gesture made his smile widen.

"Good is it," he asked while taking a bit. The cinnamon sugar eased the bitterness of the cocoa, which wasn't all that bitter, just more bitter than one would expect. Would it comfort Blair to know that he really had no position one way or another about the 'carbs' these churros would add to her diet?

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

"I think it's no longer about beauty," Blair added. "It's only the idea of it. No one could look so perfect --well, most everyone." How expected that even in another world, her life would still revolve on the very person she thought she had escaped. But she brushed off her words quickly, not wanting to dwell on them. She wanted to seem made of sunshine, not doom and gloom.

She smiled widely at Caspian, "It's really good." Taking another bite of her cocoa-drenched treat, she made a mental note to skip dinner tonight. Then again, without Serena or her mom around, she felt less on edge about her weight. She finished her churro rather quickly.

"Question: is Caspian your first or last name?"


[ooc: SORRY! Spastic net = </3]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

She was fortunate then that his attention was easily diverted from the fashion photoshoots, beauty, and perfection, to the simple enjoyment of a sweet treat dipped in hot cocoa. Caspian couldn't help but smile again. He seemed to do that a lot didn't he? Like Blair, the Telmarine had his secrets too, and one of them was he didn't always smile.

"I'm glad you like it then," Caspian said cheerfully. When she asked of his name he tilted his head, because she was not the first to ask this. "It's... it's neither. Where I am from we do not have surnames, but we do have names and titles. Mine is Caspian, X for the Tenth of That Name," he explained without much reluctance... aside from being reluctant to give her the full title.

[ooc: No problem!]

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

Had Blair known, she would think it was a huge pity that he never smiled, because no matter how many male models she had seen before, Caspian had a wonderful smile. She could always smile just to return his.

"I guess, a very long time ago, we used to only have one name. But now there are so many of us," she pondered. But the tenth? That was interesting. Why would the name Caspian be so important as to be repeated ten times? "Only royalties would use such titles; tenth and all that, I mean," she did not mean to assume but, "are you...?"

Had she known, she would not have taken him for a picnic! With hot coca in a thermos and... magazines.

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

Well there was a smile, and then there was a smile. The trick was getting to know the difference and how well one could tell the difference correlated with how well one knew Caspian X.

When she spoke of a time very long ago he couldn't help but laugh. He'd been called medieval, backward, from the dark ages, but it always surprised people to hear where he was from it was the 24th century. But nevermind those details. They were nothing more than amusing technicalities. Blair however was getting much closer to the truth, something Caspian hadn't planned and now quickly, in his mind, tried to figure out ways to skirt the issue. Other people knew, it really shouldn't have been such an issue, but it was.

"I was a prince, once," he replied, truthfully, because it was the truth, if not the whole truth. He smiled again before averting his gaze to his cocoa. "And you? What are you in your world," asked Caspian.

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

Now this was getting interesting, if not unpleasantly surprising. Blair shifted in her seat, trying to appear more proper now that she knew. "Prince Caspian then," she tried the name on her tongue. It sounded so fitting.

"You stepped down?" She wanted to ask if he were dethroned, but he might be insulted. "--it's alright if you'd rather not talk about it, of course."

Blair hugged the mug in her hands, trying to warm her fingers. At least it would stop her from twiddling with her fingers nervously. "I'm just Blair," she admitted rather reluctantly. 'Just' should not be paired with 'Blair', ever. "I'm rather well-off where I am from, but now I'm here anyway. Not that I want to go back that bad. Even with the curses, I prefer this place." That could be a lie, but it was a good one.

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

Must it be so unpleasant? Already he was starting to feel a little regretful for letting her know that much. He was a young man of seventeen sitting with a young lady flipping through magazines while consuming cocoa and churros. There was no other way to get more unroyal than this. And now he's caught himself in a trap because Prince Caspian was both unnecessary and incorrect. What would he do should she meet the others of his world? It was best to cut this one off at the next pass.

"Just Caspian will do..." he insisted gently, "no, I did not." It's a long story, he should've said but didn't, because not all of it was his story to tell.

Nevertheless Caspian still managed to smile when Blair spoke of herself. He noticed the way her fingers moved but said nothing of it, the better to not draw attention to someone's anxiety. "Do you," he asked, head tilted once more, "I think I do too, in some ways. I would not have ever learned of things like this in Narnia." He gestured to the magazines, "or met so many different people." He sipped.

"I know there will be a time when I have to go back, but for now, I do not mind waiting here," Caspian admitted.

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

It would be much better if she had thrown him a party instead, a sophisticated one, or if she had been dressed better. Now she wished there were chairs, because sitting on the grass must make her seem so uncouth!

"Caspian, then." She did not want to push it, it might be a sore spot still. Losing a royal title would have led her to something as dramatic as suicide. "I hope you weren't expecting me to be such a pleasant surprise as a princess or anything."

She was noticing how she was actually humbling herself before him. It was almost unheard of from her, but it felt like the most appropriate thing to do before a prince, albeit one that is no longer one, for some reason or another. She had decided she liked him before she found out he was a prince, and of course she would have liked him better had he still been one, but she found she liked him no less even if he was an ex-prince. It did not matter that much.

"It's surprising how many strange and wonderful people there are in the City," she laughed. "Not to mention plainly naive ones like you, I didn't think a politician could ever be like that."