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]

"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."

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"I expect nothing and presume very little," he countered in good humor. By now he'd already come to the conclusion that his world and his sort of culture was in the minority. Most people seemed to think kings and queens were fairy tales or just for the history books. Caspian didn't fault them for it either.

"Surprising yes, but pleasantly so," Caspian added to Blair's remark. As for his naivete, he disagreed to an extent but they needn't argue technicalities. For the briefest second it looked like his dark brown eyes might have sparked with mischief. "Maybe I am a revolutionary," he suggested, mostly as a joke despite it being somewhat true.

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

"So how is life different being royalty?" Blair asked, sincerely curious. She had always thought it to be no different from the movies. It would be full of drama and scandals but always done with grace. Perhaps even, the dramas are only a charade to keep them from boredom; there must hardly be any real problems to bother them.

It might have been a worrying sign had she noticed that mischievous spark in his eyes, but she did not. She still did not quite believe that he was really that naive, but reality tends to be unbelievable anyway, moreso than fiction.

Blair grinned at his joke, "you're a revolutionary revolutionary too. I see no pamphlets or banners in your hands."

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"I am a revolutionary who shows, not tells," he smiled, more than willing to play this card if just because it made her grin, maybe even laugh.

"As for life being royalty..." Caspian had to rub his chin in musing. "I can say for all the luxury afforded to me by title, there are many conveniences we do not have that many people have here, royal and unroyal alike," he said with a nod to the magazines, "where I am from, not everyone is fortunate enough to have books."

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

"I've known many powerful people --not many revolutionaries," Blair sends Caspian a quick smile, "but they couldn't fool me with trying to come across as good; they don't have people's best intentions at heart. You, however, are harder to read," she grins at him with mischief. She did not really mean to doubt him, because maybe she really believed everything he said without suspicion. For all her acts, she was still gullible.

Blair took another sip of her cocoa, trying to warm herself up. It was not that cold that she wanted a coat though, definitely not. "Most everyone where I'm from can afford books, but I know that in other parts, they can't even afford food, or water." Not that she was ever the bleeding heart.

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"I will keep it in mind that it's in my own best interest to not fool you then, Blair," he laughed softly but one might wonder if that was a serious consideration or not. He didn't know her well enough to say, and he did just say he wouldn't presume. Only time would tell.

With another nip to his churro he looked to her.

"Tell me what else is your world like, what do you like about your world" asked Caspian, honest about his curiosity. Lack of education and that serious plague called famine were common to his world too, in some parts, but he didn't think it was proper to dwell on them in an otherwise pleasant setting. They were not politicians on a picnic after all.

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

She smiled in return, not taking it as seriously as she perhaps ought to. She meant it only as a compliment, not a way to be certain of how trustworthy he is. Her agenda for the picnic has certainly changed from merely establishing a network with the important people in the City to, maybe, making real friends. That was rather rare.

"To be honest, I can't think of anything I should logically like from my world," she admitted, laughing dryly. "People are cruel, nature is polluted and dying, peace is only for when both sides run out of ammunition, love is a dream and good food makes me fat." She recited the words quickly, as if out of memory.

Then she shrugged and turned to him with a smile, "but it's home." My goodness, Blair, get a hold of yourself, stop spouting cliches!

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

He paused in mid bite of his churro, a very fattening thing indeed, although Caspian himself was quite lean and likely had no reason to worry about finishing one this afternoon. Nevertheless he couldn't help but sort of stare at her for that remark.... Not the one about good food making her fat even though that stopped him as well. But honestly, nothing? He found that hard to believe. Even his friends the Pevensies, pulled from the middle of World War II, could list things they liked about their world. Yet his curiosity took a backseat for his manners, because Caspian didn't want to offend her or provoke her by asking why. Maybe following that line about good food was a better idea after all.

"You must be joking. Are you going to tell me you have never had good food at all," he asked, clearly a strange way of paying Blair a compliment.

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

A line between his remark to "You're not fat!" is rather hard to draw, and Blair looked at him in confusion for awhile before actually getting it. He really is rather special.

"I... have had good food, in moderation, when my mom's not around." Finally, Blair broke into a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand to stop from guffawing. In the back of her mind, she wondered if he was just trying to be funny or if he simply talked that way. Either way, she found it so charming.