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The Search for Magritte

/ooc She's probably harmless, feel free to join in.

It took a lot to get Nova drunk, and at this moment, stumbling through the doors of the museum and ignoring the guard's mild frown and glance toward the front desk, she would not say she was drunk.

No. Nova was -shitfaced-.

She wasn't exactly sure of when she had thrown the empty bottle of JD into the nearest trashcan...or near the nearest trashcan, anyway, her aim wasn't so hot right now...and slid off the hood of her car onto the street. At some point in her reeling stride one of the earbuds in her ipod had dislodged itself and now hung limply over her shoulder, blaring the Beatles somewhat pathetically and out of time with her humming.

'Ob la di, ob la da, life goes on...'

Now she walked, with effort, down the main hallway of the museum, ignoring the displays to either side. She was here to see something specific, after all.

What was she here to see again?

Oh, right, the painting. Her brother had dreamed of a painting, and now she wanted to see it, damn it, she had a right to see it.

She blinked, confused as she met an intersection and had no idea of where to go. Jan had painted something?

The answer came back as quickly as she had asked. No, not Jan. Her -other- brother. The one back home in Arizona, the one she didn't have the guts to write and the one she convinced herself was better off without her around. Not that it stopped an occasional poke in his dreams, a fact which no longer gave her so much as a twist of guilt.

Not even a little twist. And if she had woken up feeling damn near nauseated, well, the drink fixed that. And the letter.

Her drunken mind enquired almost sleepily; what letter? What fucking letter?

This time she got no answer.

Realizing she had somehow ended up leaning heavily against a wall, she shoved off and started along the right hand turn, searching for a painting she could, in this state, barely remember.

Claire 18 years ago
Claire looked up from the painting she had been contemplating at the sound of someone coming into the gallery. The woman was leaning against the wall and her first thought was that perhaps she was having some breathing trouble based on the slump. She started towards the figure only to stop short as the truth of the matter hit her in a wave of alcoholic vapor.

The woman was drunk. An understatement of epic proportions if the fumes were any indication.

Well, you're now standing in the middle of the room, Tremaine, so you can either continue to gawk or pretend to helpful and not the least bit disapproving of someone desecrating a museum by wandering its halls in an inebriated stupor or you could turn around and show your views on the matter by ignoring her altogether.

She found herself headed towards the woman before her thoughts had even completely finished processing themselves. Despite being not at all pleased by someone feeling the need to loiter drunk in this kind of environment, she was a doctor first and it was her nature to find out if there was anything she could do to help.

Reaching the woman's side, she noted the Native American ancestry. It was said that there was a genetic predisposition towards drinking among those of the American tribes. She was not so certain of its validity. When any group of people were subject to oppression they tended to find whatever release and solace were available and studies could be slanted to make things appear however the researchers wished. Were Frenchmen then a bunch of wine drinking sots? The British...well, never mind the British. The Irish... alright perhaps there was evidence that drinking could be part of a person's genetic make up.

She reached out a hand to the woman's shoulder but did not quite touch it just yet, not wishing to startle the woman.


"Are you alright?"Â?

/ooc Nova's posture with permission
Kyle Evans 18 years ago
Kyle was standing in front of a painting with his head hung low. Jesus Christ is he was bored out of his mind. The curator was explaining something to him for an article his surrogate father and Editor demanded he do and Kyle tuned out the second she opened her mouth. She was cute, but not that cute.

With the appropriate nods and noises, he wrote down ten ways to kill himself in a musem on his little notepad. Much to his delight, someone came in behind them, causing a bit of a stir. Looking over his shoulder, he saw what appeared to be a rather clumsy woman. No. That was clearly a drunk walk. Looking back at his notepad he shifted from foot to foot and then stopped.

No, that was a very drunk Nova.

Turning fully around he looked over at what seemed to be his 'girlfriend' drunk as a skunk. No fair, Kyle thought. With a sigh he interrupted the curator and asked if they could pick this up later. The curator grinned and walked off.

Kyle looked back to see someone approaching Nova now. Tucking his notepad back into his jacket breast pocket, he walked over with a wry grin.
Nova 18 years ago
Nova swallowed hard and tried to orient herself in the violently spinning room. For some stupid reason she closed her eyes, and wow that was a bad idea! The room was now a sickeningly fast merry go round taking her on a hell ride she could not escape, and she slumped hard on the wall, pressing her cheek to the source of the coldness. She swallowed again and pried her eyes open to the overbright lights.

A voice at her right made her turn, too fast, oooh, spinning, not good, stop spinning stop spinning stop spinning…

When she was able to focus again, she found herself looking at a tall, slim girl. She couldn’t tell if the clothes looked funny because she was really really drunk or if they were always that weird; they looked like something…eh, fuck, she didn’t know. The thought that she looked a little princess, what with the white and the pale…like the snow queen or something, only she didn’t look Russian…

The thought, rambling as it was, struck her as funny, and she giggled a little. She attempted to explain the joke, but articulation was not, at this point, her strong suit.


“Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” Giggling even harder, though she knew that came out all wrong, she made another attempt to explain. “But no, wrong story. Let’s go find a pumpkin!” The mention of a pumpkin, in her increasingly addled mind, triggered what struck her as a very important memory, and she practically burst with it. “An Apple!”

She winced a little, realizing she had spoken so loudly that she had managed to hurt her head, and tried to focus on the bench in front of her to keep the room from spinning again. She didn’t even look up when more foot steps approached, thinking it was probably the guard coming to throw her out and oh, he could go ahead and try her! She would fuck him up into next week.

Energized by this thought, she finally did raise her head, only to blink in confusion at the lack of uniform. Thoughts seemed very slow now…Evans was here? Had he been with her in the car? Had they come in together? She couldn’t remember; hell, she wasn’t even sure she was awake anymore.

She spoke around a too thick tongue.


“Yooouuuu!”

She realized her hand was out now, pointing one finger in almost accusatory confusion, and she swung back around, too fast, god, stop spinning...

Ultimately, though, she found herself looking up at Snow White with an expression of surprise and bewilderment, as though she could explain Kyle’s sudden presence.
Claire 18 years ago
It occurred to Claire now that she had come closer to the woman that she had seen her before. It was brief and they never spoke but she had been at the Creation Ball and apparently knew the dancing couple that plowed into Dani's Egyptian friend.

Was she a good witch or a bad witch? Had the woman taken hallucinogenic drugs as well? She was busy looking for the signs of recent drug use when further nonsense was spouted. Claire raised an eyebrow at the mention of a pumpkin and spoke.


“From the looks of things you've already turned into a pumpkin. Is there a reason why you are in a museum while completely sauced?”

An apple now... excellent. Claire was beginning to regret coming this way but if the woman had a legitimate reason for being in the gallery then perhaps helping her out with it would get her back out and into a cab with some speed.

Claire turned at the approach of someone new to the scene. It was quickly made apparent that they knew each other, unless the drunken individual thought he was prince charming... or no, not with the accusatory finger pointed at him. The evil woodcutter? She shook her head as she realized she was indulging in trying to understand a drunken ramble.

Taking a step back, she waited to see if they did indeed know each other and then she could leave the guy to figure out the situation. She would hate to be an unwelcome addition to a private party.
Kyle Evans 18 years ago
Kyle let out a snort. 'Yes, meeeeeee.' He reached out and helped ground the rather intoxicated Nova. The smell of her liquor wafted up into his nose and he cringed back a little. Wow, what a stink, he thought. Is this what he smelled like all those years?

'Nova, what is going on?' Figured it was best to get to the point, but knowing that deep, dizzying feeling that being completed smashed is, she wouldn't have a clear answer ready for him. He looked over at the woman with Nova and nodded his head.

'Hi. I'm Kyle.' He reached out and offered his hand to the woman while the other was prepared to catch Nova if and when she fell.

(ooc - permission to steady nova cuz she's mah gurlfren! plus I think i have rights...)
Nova 18 years ago
Nova grinned at the pretty princess, pleased that she was catching on even if she wasn’t making a great deal of sense. She grew wary, though, at her question; perhaps she was a cop in disguise! Thinking that she’d better have a good reason for being here, she drew herself up to explain. This proved to be a bad idea and she slumped against the wall again.

“Yes! There is a very good reason. Well. A reason anyway. As much as there is reason for anything. There’s surprisingly little of that to go around, when you think about it.”

Frowning as she wandered off topic, Kyle’s arrival rescued her from waxing too philosophical. Finding a nice warm man was much nicer to lean on than the cold wall, she shifted her weight and rested her chin on his shoulder. She looked to Kyle with a goofy little grin, unaware she was leaning on him a little bit, and explained.

“I’m sauced.”

This inevitably led to a minor fit of the giggles which took some time to stop, though she made some effort in trying to control herself so that Kyle could talk. Mmm, nice Kyle with his nice stubble and his nice yelling rants. Maybe he could come to Arizona with her sometime. That would be nice.

Except it would totally suck.


“It’s okay though! Like I was saying, there is a little reason in the world!”

At this she paused, frowning and trying to remember why she was here. Hmm, stubble, princesses, duck sauce, pumpkins…apple! Right!

“We have to find the apple. It’s on some dude’s face.”
Kyle Evans 18 years ago
Apple in some dude's face? Kyle's face squinted with a touch of hilarity.

'Oh...you mean,' he pointed over his shoulder in the direction he had seen the piece. He was not a main educated in the finer things in life. In fact, the first image that popped into his head was the Red Robin version with the large hamburger in the apple's place.

'Why do you want to see that?' Nova was quite inebriated and it wasn't likely her explanation would make any sense. Drunken clarity is...well an oxymoron. Been there, done that, he thought to himself. He wasn't sure what he thought about seeing Nova this way. Part of him thought it was hilarious but another part twinged with a little pain. It wasn't like she meant to run into him but her being drunk around him just seemed...a little cruel, almost. He let it go and tried to hold up Nova as she clung to him smelling of spirits and giggling like a little girl.
Claire 18 years ago
Claire listened for the explanation and found that it was not forth coming in the ramble. The new comer to the scene did know the woman, calling her Nova. Non va.... no go. Hmm well that would sum things up right at this moment, now wouldn't it?

She was about to turn and leave the business of the publicly drunk to someone the woman was obviously very familiar and comfortable with but he asked her for her name. Damn it all. She could have slipped off to another room where there was peaceful silence and nothing but the smell of oils and floor cleaner.

Extending her hand, she smiled.


"Claire Tremaine. I simply came to inquire if your friend here needed some assistance."Â?

But if you could handle her then I will gladly brush off... She hoped the excuse would be forth coming. Nova got around to her reason. A painting was the reason. Well she supposed that made a certain sort of sense for being in the gallery but still why come to see a painting drunk? Perhaps it had emotional weight of some sort or perhaps it simple seemed like the thing to do.

When Nova described the painting, Claire smiled.


"The Son of Man by Rene Magritte . "

It would seem that the young man knew of it as well. Claire was now torn between curiosity over her interest in the painting and the desire not to be an outsider in the situation.

The painting had always been interesting to her for its statement. It was obviously intended to make one but it was up to the viewer to determine what that was. To Claire it suggested the myth of the forbidden fruit which many times was represented as an apple. Mankind chose knowledge over adherence to a god's wishes,the quest for understand instead of blind obedience. In the painting however the fruit obscures the man's face so did that quest for knowledge blind and obscure the very ones who chose it?

Claire wondered anew at Nova's interest; it hardly seemed like the kind of painting one would have a sentimental attachement to but perhaps times had changed.
Nova 18 years ago
Nova raised both eyebrows when Snow White introduced herself, and felt her face animate into a wide grin.

“Say…I know you!”

Frowning as she tried to remember just where she had heard that name, she spaced out for a second before returning to the subject.

“Okay never mind. I’m just a little drunk.” She regarded Claire suspiciously for a moment longer, then waved her finger, putting her weight liberally on Kyle to allow for the gesture.

“You look familiar though!”

Apparently Kyle knew just where the painting she was in search of was, and she draped an arm all the way around his neck, pointing at the sky now and declaring:

“Progress, we have progress!”

Claire seemed to know the painting as well, though she was claiming it was by some chick. Maybe Yoki had some kind of stage name. Pen name. Whatever.

In any case, how many apple face painting dudes could there be? Still, it would seem they needed:


“More information!”

She swung around in the direction Kyle had gestured to, waited for her brain to comprehend what her body had done, and frowned at the hallway when Kyle asked why she wanted to see the painting. She drew herself up, importantly but with a touch of belligerence, and spoke loudly.

“Because my brother made it and I wanna –see- it.”

Feeling suspiciously like she was being handled and suddenly concerned they would try to steer her away from the painting, she started to stumble in that direction only to reel and fall against Kyle’s shoulder again. Her ipod buds, which had by this point both fallen out and were dangling down around her knees, decided to make their own break for it and clattered to the ground, unnoticed by Nova.

“I wanna see it. I don’t know who this Renee chick is but…”

She trailed off as another dizzy spell hit her, frustrated and beginning to realize in a dim sort of way that she was making a complete ass of herself and seemed helpless to stop.

“…yeah.”
Kyle Evans 18 years ago
Kyle looked at Claire and shrugged slightly as he slowly bent down to pick up Nova's earphones. 'We'll go see this painting and then I will heave you over my shoulder caveman style and take you...home.'

Home being the Domicile which brought up conflicting memories for him. Granted the first and last time he was there he had hot scorching sex with a vampire, but then he was unceremoniously told that he'd be killed if he breathed a word of it.

Where was the fun in that?


'Deal?'
Claire 18 years ago
She raised her eyebrows at being recognized by someone that, near as she could tell, had no right to even be walking. Claire wondered idly how many of her Nova currently saw standing in front of her. The woman must hold her liquor very well if she were able to stay upright much less identify the people like shapes in front of her that she had only seen once before. Who knew that she left such an impression?

Claire frowned slightly in confusion. Her brother made it? She resisted the urge to snort in skeptical amusement; not believing for a moment that the obviously non Dutch woman in front of her was related to the modern artist responsible for the picture they were referring to.

She headed slowly towards the direction of the painting, doing her best to ignore the statements of caveman like activities and dragging the woman off to home. That kind of discussion was none of her business and Claire could only hope they would leave out any comments about plans for their time once they arrived. The neanderthal statement was enough to leave a clear mental picture, in her own mind at the very least. One that she would rather purge with soothing landscapes and muted florals.


"This way."Â?
Nova 18 years ago
Nova grinned at Kyle’s excellent suggestion and thumped her hand to her chest, wincing a little as she made that gesture harder than intended.

“Yeah! Me Tarzan, you Jane!”

Realizing she had that wrong but uncertain of just how she had messed up the very simple expression, she stilled and frowned, mulling it over for a moment before understanding dawned.

“Er. No. You’re the boy.”

Suddenly deciding this was the most hilarious thing ever, she broke into giggles while happily chanting in a sing song voice.

“Yoooou’rrrrreeee the boooyyyyy!”

She looked to Claire, trying to keep a straight face and explain in a very solemn manner.

“He’s the boy.”

Claire, meanwhile, was going off somewhere…oh yeah, the painting. She knew where the painting was. It had never occurred to Nova before that moment that it was a remarkable coincidence that the painting was here at all. How did it get here? Why was it in Nachton? Such complicated thoughts were quickly resulting in a nasty headache, though, and she decided it was just plain good luck.

“To the painting, then! I feel lucky!”

Giggling again for reasons not even apparent to her anymore, she slung her arm around Kyle’s shoulders again and followed Claire with a slow, drunken swagger.
Kyle Evans 18 years ago
'Oh dear god,' Kyle muttered under his breath as he half carried Nova towards Claire. Following the wisp of the woman, Kyle wrapped his arm around Nova's waist and smiled at her giggling. He wasn't used to seeing her so...nice.

'Yes, I am the boy. I get that a lot.'
Claire 18 years ago
Claire came to stand in front of the painting and was half expecting Nova to say this was not the right one. Did her brother do a finger painting that was once hung up on her family wall and that was what she was expecting to see?

Now, now be nice. It was very likely that her brother simply had a print of the painting and there was a misunderstanding.

She turned to the others, relieved that they seemed to have successfully straightened out their genders on the short trip over to the painting. Claire felt a short stab of sympathy for the poor man at having to deal with his publicly drunk friend. Did this happen often? Perhaps she should seek professional help? Perhaps he was the cause of her drinking... and perhaps Claire should mind her own business.


"Well here it is. The Son of Man."Â?

She took a step back and off to the side and waited silently to see what the reaction was. Perhaps there was a different painting meeting the very odd description. It was doubtful but possible. They could perhaps look up her brother's name in a directory if that were the case.
Nova 18 years ago
Nova kept her gaze aimless and unfocused as the odd trio moved along, deciding that trying to level out her eyesight and walk at the same time was too much effort. She bumped clumsily into Evans when they stopped, and for a moment she looked around, confused and wondering why their happy stroll had come to an end.

Oh! They were here.

She looked over at Claire for a moment, wondering what the hell she was talking about.


“Huh?”

She looked back at the painting, squinting now. ‘Son of Man?’ Kind of random…

“’zat the title?”

Even with her reduced cognitive abilities she could still reason out that the painting likely wasn’t called ‘apple faced dude’ and she figured Son of Man worked just as well as anything.

Pushing off Kyle, but keeping one hand hovering nearby in case she lost balance, she peered from first one side, then the other of the painting in an attempt to see around the apple. As this proved to be impossible, she stepped back, frowning.


“What’s it mean?” Her frown morphed to a scowl of irritation at the stupid painting that didn’t make any sense. Give her an airbrushing of a car over this ‘Son of Man’ stuff any day. Then she turned to Kyle and her mood shifted, just like that. She gave him a dippy smile.

Nice Kyle.


“Doesn’t matter. Jus’ wanted to see it for myself.”

Feeling quite pleased that they had accomplished their great quest, she threw an arm around Kyle and another around Claire, then looked back up at the painting.

“You guys…are good guys…for real.”
Claire 18 years ago
Claire raised her eyebrows at Nova and looked back at the little plaque neatly situated underneath the painting. Not likely to be able to read it, now was she?

"Yes, that is the name."Â?

There was no point in getting into a discussion on the choice of it so Claire let the subject drop. Nova did not seem surprised by the painting so this must be the one she was looking for. Interesting, she wondered why the woman thought her brother had painted such a famous picture.

When Nova asked about the meaning herself, Claire sighed slightly and gave a small shrug.


"I can only hazard a guess, myself, perhaps you should ask your brother about it?"Â?

Very unfair, Tremaine. Hopefully Nova would not remember the comment when she was sober and would accept the smiling innocence that she portrayed currently as genuine.

Her grin did soften into a real smile when Nova seemed very satisfied by having seen the painting. Perhaps it was best to let her believe that her brother painted it. She did not know their situation but if it meant enough to the woman to come on a quest for it then her guess was that Nova felt it was important.

She suddenly found herself pulled close and resisted with all her will the urge to disappear at the sudden shock. No call for such dramatics, she was one of the sober ones.


"Well now how about a nice cup of coffee? I believe there is a cafe just across the street."Â?
Kyle Evans 18 years ago
Kyle examined the portrait and gave a satisfactory grunt. He didn't understand art although he did appreciate it. Knowing enough to get by at parties got him more exclusives invites. He could recall half a dozen parties that involved either a fifth of scotch and exquisitely fine art. There was always someone explaining the paintings. Kyle was smart enough to listen.

As Nova declared her appreciation and Claire recommended the coffee shop, he pulled the red head close and hoisted her over his shoulder. It would be far easier manuevering around the museum with Nova incapcitated instead of flinging herself in any given direction. He'd broken many a glass vase to know better.

'Alrighty, here we go.' He held a hand out to Claire to lead the way. Giving her an apologetic smile he added, 'Believe me, I'm thinking it's just easier this way. Shall we?'

((OOC - kyle out))
Nova 18 years ago
Nova’s eyes narrowed at the suggestion that she ask her brother about the painting and she issued a terse ‘Can’t’ before shrugging the sour feeling off. It didn’t entirely go away but she didn’t feel nearly as shitty as she had earlier and that was something.

She wondered if she was being patronized when coffee was suggested but even if she was it was still a good idea.


“Yeah! Irish coffee, how about that, huh?”

She didn’t figure they were going to let her get away with drinking any more, which was kind of a bummer because she was sure her buzz was starting to go. Then she lost her footing and wasn’t so sure anymore; she bellowed, like she was talking to a horse, ‘whoa whoa whoa easy there trigger’ while the room spun and whirled.

“Jeez!”

Overhearing Kyle’s explanation for his methods, she felt she might have something to say about that.

“Easier for who! Maybe I should pick –you- up and see how you like it! Ha! How dya like that, Buster! I could pick you up and toss you like a pillow! Argh!”

Her hazy memory brought up the fact that she had once lifted Evans clear off the ground and she chuckled at that, relaxing a little and resting her head on top of Kyle’s.

“Payback’s a bitch.” Snickering, she gave Kyle a slap on the rump. “Good view though.” She considered giving that cute journalist ass another tap, for some reason thinking of playing the bongos. Playing the Kyle. What instrument do you play? I play the Kyle Evans.

She giggled the entire way out of the museum.


/ooc out
Claire 18 years ago
Claire watched in sympathetic horror as Kyle picked up Nova and tossed her over his shoulder. She would have to admit internally that she did not know who the sympathy was for, Nova for being hauled about in such an embarrassing position like so much meat or Kyle for having to deal with his friend making such a scene.

She nodded in silent understanding to his explanation and noted with raised eyebrows that his companion took the situation, in stride, so to speak. Quickly turning away from the sight of Nova smacking Kyle on the ass, Claire moved up ahead to lead the group out of the museum, wondering how the dizzying series of little events landed her in the middle of this strange quest.


/ooc Claire out and possibly the others as well.