Claire smiled and shrugged. She was not completely sold on the idea of the shepherdess for Halloween. She seemed to recall someone doing a very good job of playing the part at last year's large festival, the woman had even brought her German Shepherd to the party. It would be hard to compete with so memorable a look, especially one so recent. It would be best to do something different entirely.
Her eyebrow rose higher at Bao's response to her arm around his waist. She leaned away enough to watch him carefully. "So you would be willing to dishonor me in private? Mon Dieu!" She smiled and lowered her eyes, looking up at him through the screen of dark lashes. Hopefully he would understand her toying with him slightly by taking him so literally. She did not mean any harm by it and she found that he was entertaining future possibilities to be a promising sign. "I must say I am intrigued to hear these...ideas of yours." Bao was formal, more so than anyone she had ever met. It was charming but also quite frustrating. Claire was fairly certain that once they had broke the ice between them it would become easier and easier for Bao to be more open with her. If he could remember what such an experience was like; if not then they would have to discover it again...assuming he was willing.
She tugged his hand and moved them both on to the next painting. It was an interesting segue, a visual one that was quite intriguing. The painting was called "Morning in the Riesengebirge" by Caspar David Friedrich. At first glance, especially after several sea pictures, the rolling hills look like waves of the ocean in a mist. After looking closer it becomes apparent that they are the tops of green hills piercing the morning fog. In the foreground was the tallest rocky mount topped by a tall delicate crucifix.
"Interesting but highly unlikely." Claire frowned thoughtfully at the painting. "I love the hills and the mist but the cross is wrong. You would not find such on top of a mountain in Europe. Is wrong." She pointed to it. "Mountain crosses are plain and sturdy. Not like this." She peered as close as she could get to it. "I wonder why he chose to change it from what had likely been there. Had it fallen perhaps? If he is making a statement then I am missing it."
Do Not Kill Anyone (Attn Claire)
At least the weather was pleasant. That was about the only positive thing Bao could say. This was ridiculous, he had -no- reason to be nervous. It had been hell enough asking Claire out, he had felt awkward and tongue tied. Worst of all was the lingering feeling that she might reject him. Which was, he told himself, either unthinkable and yet rather terrifying.
She had, thankfully, said yes which had left him half sputtering out a proposal. They would meet and the Arch and see how the evening played out. He'd arrived early, to ensure the curator had not found away around his commands and was gone. Avoiding him seemed to be one command she wanted to obey for she was no where to be found. Bao was mildly disgusted with the she wolf, but he'd rather be disgusted than deal with any unplanned meetings.
With the curator gone though he had nothing else to think about than Claire's arrival and the fact that he hadn't been on a 'date' for several centuries. It took a great deal of effort not to pace. Somehow Bao managed to stand calmly, a single red rose in his hand and wait. He knew it was wrong to meet here instead of arriving together, but he had known how else to do this and had rationalized it by needing to ensure the she wolf was gone.
Absently Bao straightened his tie and glanced down to ensure his shoes had a mirror shine. He also ran through his mental check list for the millionth time. He did have tickets to the special show, he did have a car to pick them up when they were through, he did have a good bottle of wine chilling, he did have a telescope set up in his favorite dark part of the gardens, the only thing he couldn't quite plan on was Claire and what she might want to do. That thought both excited and worried him.
If only she would get here so he could stop thinking about these things.
Claire
13 years ago
Bao
13 years ago
Bao chuckled slightly, keeping the sound quite low. It could be easy to think he didn't have a sense of humor, but this was a game he understood and appreciated. Fencing with words, flaying, flirting, language could absolutely be a toy. And once that was added to the 'modest' manners, Bao found it rather thrilling.
"I am starting to suspect you may not be as innocent as you seem. Perhaps it is I who would be dishonored. But, in private, of course.â€
One could only hope and as she had not made much, if any, effort to remove herself from the rather mutual embrace so obviously he had not offended her. Bao watched as Claire looked up coyly through her lashes and felt a spark. It was something akin to the beginning of a hunt, an adrenaline rush, and Bao knew he wanted to peruse it. He wanted this hunt.
"I should be more than happy to share these ideas with you, however, I would not wish to shock you.â€
But he doubted she would be shocked. In fact, Bao was not entirely certain that he was the hunger in this situation. It was quite possible he was the prey, and he did not find that at all objectionable. Perhaps Claire should go as Diana, the goddess of the hunt, for Halloween.
It was rather unusual for Bao to allow himself to be lead around but this evening he willingly followed Claire, allowing her to direct them to the next painting. However, for all his love of art Bao was distracted enough that it took him a moment of two to focus on the painting.
Objectively he considered line, and color palette and then what the artist was probably trying to say.
"Anything more sturdy and you would not be able to make out the figure on the cross. And the delicate cross contrasted with the mountains demands a certain faith from the viewer. A wasteland of sin and one lone, solitary chance for redemption.â€
One often had to understand religion in order to understand men, politics and art. So while not a believer, Bao could discuss the symbolism of most major religions.
"Rather depressing really, that in all that there is only one chance for salvation.â€
"I am starting to suspect you may not be as innocent as you seem. Perhaps it is I who would be dishonored. But, in private, of course.â€
One could only hope and as she had not made much, if any, effort to remove herself from the rather mutual embrace so obviously he had not offended her. Bao watched as Claire looked up coyly through her lashes and felt a spark. It was something akin to the beginning of a hunt, an adrenaline rush, and Bao knew he wanted to peruse it. He wanted this hunt.
"I should be more than happy to share these ideas with you, however, I would not wish to shock you.â€
But he doubted she would be shocked. In fact, Bao was not entirely certain that he was the hunger in this situation. It was quite possible he was the prey, and he did not find that at all objectionable. Perhaps Claire should go as Diana, the goddess of the hunt, for Halloween.
It was rather unusual for Bao to allow himself to be lead around but this evening he willingly followed Claire, allowing her to direct them to the next painting. However, for all his love of art Bao was distracted enough that it took him a moment of two to focus on the painting.
Objectively he considered line, and color palette and then what the artist was probably trying to say.
"Anything more sturdy and you would not be able to make out the figure on the cross. And the delicate cross contrasted with the mountains demands a certain faith from the viewer. A wasteland of sin and one lone, solitary chance for redemption.â€
One often had to understand religion in order to understand men, politics and art. So while not a believer, Bao could discuss the symbolism of most major religions.
"Rather depressing really, that in all that there is only one chance for salvation.â€
Claire
13 years ago
"Moi? Monsieur, surely you jest." She smiled knowingly at him. "I am the soul of innocence and propriety." Claire laughed softly at the thought. She understood that her choice of attire and quiet nature painted a picture that was not her true self but it has served her well enough in the past. It was good that Bao was smart enough to see through it. "We shall see. Perhaps no one will be dishonored if we have mutually agreeable intentions in mind." She could not imagine them having dissimilar thoughts on where they wanted this relationship to go but that discussion could wait until they were back at the Manor.
"I do not think that you will shock me, Monsieur. My sire was quite the shocking man. He could be very...dramatic when he chose. Over the years I find that very little surprises me overly much." Claire lifted her shoulders in a delicate shrug of modest dismissal. It was not a trait she had wished to cultivate but centuries with Sorin made it necessary for survival or sanity, perhaps both.
Bao explained his view on the painting in front of them. He had an erudite and confident air as he told her his opinion on why the artist painted the cross as he had. It almost sounded as though he were stating fact. Claire could see how he made an impressive lawyer; she was certain that anyone opposing him in the courtroom must find him very intimidating.
"True enough. The good thing is that the crucifix is small and therefore one can look past it to the beauty of the mountains beyond it. I love those. They seem peaceful to me." The small man-made structure in the front was easily ignored to her eyes, despite it being in the foreground. The rest of the painting was beautiful. " When seen from the point of religion it is depressing so perhaps it is best to view it differently." Of course the artist probably preferred one to see the religious overtones but the problem with offering up paintings to the public was that they public could take whatever meaning they wanted from them.
"Shall we move on?"
"I do not think that you will shock me, Monsieur. My sire was quite the shocking man. He could be very...dramatic when he chose. Over the years I find that very little surprises me overly much." Claire lifted her shoulders in a delicate shrug of modest dismissal. It was not a trait she had wished to cultivate but centuries with Sorin made it necessary for survival or sanity, perhaps both.
Bao explained his view on the painting in front of them. He had an erudite and confident air as he told her his opinion on why the artist painted the cross as he had. It almost sounded as though he were stating fact. Claire could see how he made an impressive lawyer; she was certain that anyone opposing him in the courtroom must find him very intimidating.
"True enough. The good thing is that the crucifix is small and therefore one can look past it to the beauty of the mountains beyond it. I love those. They seem peaceful to me." The small man-made structure in the front was easily ignored to her eyes, despite it being in the foreground. The rest of the painting was beautiful. " When seen from the point of religion it is depressing so perhaps it is best to view it differently." Of course the artist probably preferred one to see the religious overtones but the problem with offering up paintings to the public was that they public could take whatever meaning they wanted from them.
"Shall we move on?"
Bao
13 years ago
For all of his nerves, his worry, and concern that he wouldn't know what to do on a date because it had been too long; Bao was enjoying himself a great deal. It wasn't simply the word games, the flirting but learning about Claire. He was becoming more and more certain he was right to hold her in high regard, even as she spoke of mutual dishonoring.
"I think that is a very logical conclusion.â€
Bao raised a an eyebrow every so slightly. In an odd way that did not surprise him at all. He just wondered exactly how far that drama carried. He wondered briefly if this constituted jealousy. Possibly.
"I think that we might still be able to find something to shock you. If you would like.â€
And, assuming, that things were going as well as it appeared that was an appealing proposition.
Bao was enjoying Claire's observations regarding the paintings. She had a much fresher view point, he too often sounded as if he was quoting a text book.
"The beauty of art is there are as many way to view it as there are people who do. I think you are right, it might be best to over look the religious, or at least see it as part of the whole rather than the sole purpose of the painting.â€
Slowly he led them along to the next painting, one he'd quite been looking forward to, Cupid and Psyche.
"Rather a change of subject matter but it is equally dramatic.â€
"I think that is a very logical conclusion.â€
Bao raised a an eyebrow every so slightly. In an odd way that did not surprise him at all. He just wondered exactly how far that drama carried. He wondered briefly if this constituted jealousy. Possibly.
"I think that we might still be able to find something to shock you. If you would like.â€
And, assuming, that things were going as well as it appeared that was an appealing proposition.
Bao was enjoying Claire's observations regarding the paintings. She had a much fresher view point, he too often sounded as if he was quoting a text book.
"The beauty of art is there are as many way to view it as there are people who do. I think you are right, it might be best to over look the religious, or at least see it as part of the whole rather than the sole purpose of the painting.â€
Slowly he led them along to the next painting, one he'd quite been looking forward to, Cupid and Psyche.
"Rather a change of subject matter but it is equally dramatic.â€
Claire
13 years ago
Claire laid her head lightly on Bao's shoulder and smiled. "If it is you, Mon Cher, then I would love it." She could not imagine him doing anything unwanted so any surprise would be a good one.
Bao explained that the good part about art was there was no way set way to look at it. She found that refreshing; Sorin tended to have very specific opinions on what made something good or not. His view did change over time and sometimes he quickly embraced a new art style and other times he rejected an entire period all together.
She remembered that he was not a fan of Picasso at all. Once after meeting the artist, Sorin caustically commented that he doubted the man's blood was even good to drink. 'The drugs that must have been necessary to paint these hideous pictures would likely knock me over for a night or two. I have to wonder how he can stand up straight. And then one has to ponder, if I should look at his paintings for a suggestion on where to bite him what I am left with, one awkwardly shaped butt cheek or this overly swollen looking foot. Neither are very appealing, I'm afraid. Such a disappointment and they are calling him a master of his medium. Everyone in this decade must be blind, dull witted or drunk.'
"I might like to buy a print of it. Though I think I will wait until we are finished with the exhibition. There might be something even more lovely down the next hall."
Claire looked up at the painting of Cupid and Psyche and smiled. "Well, it once would have had a religious tone so perhaps I can see where it might follow the one before it." They went from the austere mountains with its singular source of redemption in a large lonely world to a lavish opulent bedroom where the gods were as much about corruption as redemption. She liked deities that were more vibrant and warm blooded. They lived and loved and you could understand their passion and whims even if you did not always approve.
"He looks quite pleased with himself, doesn't he?"
Cupid was turned toward the viewer as if he could see the people looking in at him from outside the painting. His expression suggested that, yes, he had kissed the princess and he was quite proud of it. Psyche was looking away from the viewer and Cupid with a serene expression on her beautiful face. It only made sense that she not be gazing in the same direction as that was the command that he had given her when he secreted her away from Aphrodite's wrathful attention. The scene in the window was painted with a simplicity of both colour and shapes that contrasted with the detail that was used on the figures and the bed in the foreground.
Bao explained that the good part about art was there was no way set way to look at it. She found that refreshing; Sorin tended to have very specific opinions on what made something good or not. His view did change over time and sometimes he quickly embraced a new art style and other times he rejected an entire period all together.
She remembered that he was not a fan of Picasso at all. Once after meeting the artist, Sorin caustically commented that he doubted the man's blood was even good to drink. 'The drugs that must have been necessary to paint these hideous pictures would likely knock me over for a night or two. I have to wonder how he can stand up straight. And then one has to ponder, if I should look at his paintings for a suggestion on where to bite him what I am left with, one awkwardly shaped butt cheek or this overly swollen looking foot. Neither are very appealing, I'm afraid. Such a disappointment and they are calling him a master of his medium. Everyone in this decade must be blind, dull witted or drunk.'
"I might like to buy a print of it. Though I think I will wait until we are finished with the exhibition. There might be something even more lovely down the next hall."
Claire looked up at the painting of Cupid and Psyche and smiled. "Well, it once would have had a religious tone so perhaps I can see where it might follow the one before it." They went from the austere mountains with its singular source of redemption in a large lonely world to a lavish opulent bedroom where the gods were as much about corruption as redemption. She liked deities that were more vibrant and warm blooded. They lived and loved and you could understand their passion and whims even if you did not always approve.
"He looks quite pleased with himself, doesn't he?"
Cupid was turned toward the viewer as if he could see the people looking in at him from outside the painting. His expression suggested that, yes, he had kissed the princess and he was quite proud of it. Psyche was looking away from the viewer and Cupid with a serene expression on her beautiful face. It only made sense that she not be gazing in the same direction as that was the command that he had given her when he secreted her away from Aphrodite's wrathful attention. The scene in the window was painted with a simplicity of both colour and shapes that contrasted with the detail that was used on the figures and the bed in the foreground.
Bao
13 years ago
That was shocking, in the best possible way. Bao cursed the fact that they were out in public. He did want to act on such an obvious invitation. It was a wonderful, tantalizing show of trust and attraction. But he couldn't even come up with a socially acceptable way to reciprocate. For a moment he felt trapped within his suit and his public persona. Controlling that frustration Bao only softly touched Claire's hair.
"Then, for you, I think something might be arranged."
Would it be appropriate to purchase the print as a gift? Had the original been in his collection Bao might very well have offered it to Claire. Art should be with someone who would enjoy and appreciate it. But obviously he did not own the original as it was hanging on the wall. Bao would, however, remember the lines and colors and what Claire had found appealing and inspiring. It would make it easier to find something she might enjoy.
Bao chuckled slightly at that observation.
"Yes, rather. But I think under the circumstances I might understand why. It cannot be easy to accomplish anything with those wings."
And yet Psyche did not look displeased. Bao loved the color and the landscape within the paining, the view out the window.
"It never ceases to amaze me the detail that artists can get. It challenges modern photography. You feel as if you should be able to touch them."
His eye bounced between the Cupid's expression and the view out the window. It was only thanks to years of discipline and practice that Bao was able to take in the rest of the painting. As he did so he tried to think of something appropriate, seductive to say. But tonight his words seemed to be failing him.
"Then, for you, I think something might be arranged."
Would it be appropriate to purchase the print as a gift? Had the original been in his collection Bao might very well have offered it to Claire. Art should be with someone who would enjoy and appreciate it. But obviously he did not own the original as it was hanging on the wall. Bao would, however, remember the lines and colors and what Claire had found appealing and inspiring. It would make it easier to find something she might enjoy.
Bao chuckled slightly at that observation.
"Yes, rather. But I think under the circumstances I might understand why. It cannot be easy to accomplish anything with those wings."
And yet Psyche did not look displeased. Bao loved the color and the landscape within the paining, the view out the window.
"It never ceases to amaze me the detail that artists can get. It challenges modern photography. You feel as if you should be able to touch them."
His eye bounced between the Cupid's expression and the view out the window. It was only thanks to years of discipline and practice that Bao was able to take in the rest of the painting. As he did so he tried to think of something appropriate, seductive to say. But tonight his words seemed to be failing him.
Claire
13 years ago
Claire giggled quietly behind her hand and nodded at his offer. She wondered how long it had been since she laughed like a school girl as herself, without playing a role for the Order. Her mind searched back through the years and events before she grew tired of looking and just surmised that it was a long time ago.
Bao was quite full of humor tonight. Her eyes sparkled and she grinned at his playful observation. "True enough. I would imagine they would get quite rumpled in the course of tumbling Psyche in that bed." Claire considered the logistics of the relationship and determined that Cupid would be better off to stick with the top position and bed covers thrown over them would likely be right out or he would be forever smoothing those feathers back into place.
Thinking of said fabrics it was hard not to notice how the artist artfully covered the groin region on the young god though Psyche is quite naked for all to see. "You know I never quite understood the male prudish attitude when it came to their own bodies but how they expected to see, and find nothing wrong with seeing, all of a woman's. The Greeks and Romans had a much healthier view." It came down to religion again and how men, for the longest time, considered themselves better than women. Claire was quite glad to see them finally coming out of that long dark period in history. Perhaps they could signify the end of the dark ages with a full gallery of frontal male nudity. She would support that exhibition with her patronage...in the principle of the thing, of course.
Her gaze slid sideways toward her companion at his comment about being able to touch them. She had just been thinking that very thing. Cupid was well proportioned and superbly shaded. You could see the lines of muscle and bone beneath his skin and it was hard not to want to reach out and touch those abs. Psyche was softer with graceful feminine curves that marked what was beautiful at the time. To Claire, the girl was still beautiful, timelessly so. It just further proved her own belief that a healthy body was always beautiful. Stick thin models and actresses looked sick and malnourished compared to sweet Psyche. She wondered what future generations would make of this age's celebrity women in the media. It should be interesting to see.
"That is so. I enjoyed the styles most that did that. You can walk out into the world and see this thing. You know what it should look like and so, when an artist paints it so well that it looks exactly as you might have pictured it, you know. It is not so with something that does not even resemble what, according to the title, the painting is. Is he a great artist? Or a bad one with a big ego that somehow managed to impress the right people?" Claire smiled. "Perhaps there is an art to that too."
Bao was quite full of humor tonight. Her eyes sparkled and she grinned at his playful observation. "True enough. I would imagine they would get quite rumpled in the course of tumbling Psyche in that bed." Claire considered the logistics of the relationship and determined that Cupid would be better off to stick with the top position and bed covers thrown over them would likely be right out or he would be forever smoothing those feathers back into place.
Thinking of said fabrics it was hard not to notice how the artist artfully covered the groin region on the young god though Psyche is quite naked for all to see. "You know I never quite understood the male prudish attitude when it came to their own bodies but how they expected to see, and find nothing wrong with seeing, all of a woman's. The Greeks and Romans had a much healthier view." It came down to religion again and how men, for the longest time, considered themselves better than women. Claire was quite glad to see them finally coming out of that long dark period in history. Perhaps they could signify the end of the dark ages with a full gallery of frontal male nudity. She would support that exhibition with her patronage...in the principle of the thing, of course.
Her gaze slid sideways toward her companion at his comment about being able to touch them. She had just been thinking that very thing. Cupid was well proportioned and superbly shaded. You could see the lines of muscle and bone beneath his skin and it was hard not to want to reach out and touch those abs. Psyche was softer with graceful feminine curves that marked what was beautiful at the time. To Claire, the girl was still beautiful, timelessly so. It just further proved her own belief that a healthy body was always beautiful. Stick thin models and actresses looked sick and malnourished compared to sweet Psyche. She wondered what future generations would make of this age's celebrity women in the media. It should be interesting to see.
"That is so. I enjoyed the styles most that did that. You can walk out into the world and see this thing. You know what it should look like and so, when an artist paints it so well that it looks exactly as you might have pictured it, you know. It is not so with something that does not even resemble what, according to the title, the painting is. Is he a great artist? Or a bad one with a big ego that somehow managed to impress the right people?" Claire smiled. "Perhaps there is an art to that too."
Bao
13 years ago
It was a bit of a surprise but Bao was tempted to blush with pleasure at her giggle. Such a delightful sound. He found it was well worth the effort of finding some humor in their conversation just to hear that.
Even though they had both turned their attention to the painting, the subject matter before them offered an ample playground for the imagination and the conversation.
"Perhaps she is too modest to consider the out of doors. I should think those wings, given enough room, would have some intriguing possibilities."
She was right, although it was very artfully done one almost believed it was a conicdance rather than a deliberate decision.
"Competition. Too often men are not equipped to deal with the strain of living up to an idealized figure. It is less modesty than a balm to the fragile ego."
Bao could not claim that observation as his own. But, he did suspect that it would amuse Claire. He hoped that it would. His own response would have been more academic.
"It would be lovely to walk into that world, albeit a bit crowded with two in the bed already. However, I find the fantasy worlds of the impressionists and the surrealists just as compelling. They take more work to comprehend and one has to be willing to open their mind."
Undoubtedly that was because Bao was stuck the the day to day rules and regulations of this world. One could not just throw out a rule of law because it had no imagination. Often stifled by reality those paintings gave him an escape, a mental exercise.
Even though they had both turned their attention to the painting, the subject matter before them offered an ample playground for the imagination and the conversation.
"Perhaps she is too modest to consider the out of doors. I should think those wings, given enough room, would have some intriguing possibilities."
She was right, although it was very artfully done one almost believed it was a conicdance rather than a deliberate decision.
"Competition. Too often men are not equipped to deal with the strain of living up to an idealized figure. It is less modesty than a balm to the fragile ego."
Bao could not claim that observation as his own. But, he did suspect that it would amuse Claire. He hoped that it would. His own response would have been more academic.
"It would be lovely to walk into that world, albeit a bit crowded with two in the bed already. However, I find the fantasy worlds of the impressionists and the surrealists just as compelling. They take more work to comprehend and one has to be willing to open their mind."
Undoubtedly that was because Bao was stuck the the day to day rules and regulations of this world. One could not just throw out a rule of law because it had no imagination. Often stifled by reality those paintings gave him an escape, a mental exercise.
Claire
13 years ago
Claire turned and gave Bao an appraising look, pleasantly surprised by his somewhat risque observation. "Indeed, she does appear quite modest. I am sure though that given time she would be more willing to adventure further from her bower."
She laughed lightly as her companion explained a different reason for why men seemed shy about showing their own nudity, fear of failure to live up to the idealized form. Claire turned and pressed a gentle hand to his chest. She could feel the hard muscle beneath his shirt and suspected that he could give the artists something else to paint. "I trust that you have no such apprehension." She let her fingers slide gently down the silk shirt and then away with a smile. "If so I could not possibly imagine why."
Bao explained why he enjoyed the impressionists and surrealists. His reasoning made perfect sense to her. She nodded and squeezed him close with the arm still around his waist. "Lawyers and Doctors see a great deal of ugliness in the world. We often see the worst of it. Sometimes it is hard not succumb to depression or harden our hearts to it all. Whatever works to make you happy, Bao, then I say keep doing it."
She played music, walked in the woods gathering herbs and tended to the children at the shelter. The latter sometimes showed her ugliness when they came in beaten and neglected but she tried to help them and give them hope, just as she did their mothers and their resilience and innocence filled her with joy and wonder. At the moment, she just had the hospital to go to. It would be harder to find her there than at Erasma's but not impossible. It would not even be terribly difficult. Claire saw no reason to hide though or quit doing the things she loved for fear of retribution that might be decades away...or may never come at all. The other comforting thought was that this killer, so far, has never murdered a vampire without command from what the Order could tell. She did not want to betray her Creator or her clan but she could not stay sequestered at the Manor like Rapunzel in her tower. If she did then she would be punishing herself far more effectively than this madman's best possible attempts.
Aside from the children, her pursuits of happiness were rather lonely. Claire wondered if they would not be more effective if they were shared with another person. Sometimes it seemed like she could not exist at all an no one would notice but Sorin, and now he was gone.
"Shall we see what is next?"
She laughed lightly as her companion explained a different reason for why men seemed shy about showing their own nudity, fear of failure to live up to the idealized form. Claire turned and pressed a gentle hand to his chest. She could feel the hard muscle beneath his shirt and suspected that he could give the artists something else to paint. "I trust that you have no such apprehension." She let her fingers slide gently down the silk shirt and then away with a smile. "If so I could not possibly imagine why."
Bao explained why he enjoyed the impressionists and surrealists. His reasoning made perfect sense to her. She nodded and squeezed him close with the arm still around his waist. "Lawyers and Doctors see a great deal of ugliness in the world. We often see the worst of it. Sometimes it is hard not succumb to depression or harden our hearts to it all. Whatever works to make you happy, Bao, then I say keep doing it."
She played music, walked in the woods gathering herbs and tended to the children at the shelter. The latter sometimes showed her ugliness when they came in beaten and neglected but she tried to help them and give them hope, just as she did their mothers and their resilience and innocence filled her with joy and wonder. At the moment, she just had the hospital to go to. It would be harder to find her there than at Erasma's but not impossible. It would not even be terribly difficult. Claire saw no reason to hide though or quit doing the things she loved for fear of retribution that might be decades away...or may never come at all. The other comforting thought was that this killer, so far, has never murdered a vampire without command from what the Order could tell. She did not want to betray her Creator or her clan but she could not stay sequestered at the Manor like Rapunzel in her tower. If she did then she would be punishing herself far more effectively than this madman's best possible attempts.
Aside from the children, her pursuits of happiness were rather lonely. Claire wondered if they would not be more effective if they were shared with another person. Sometimes it seemed like she could not exist at all an no one would notice but Sorin, and now he was gone.
"Shall we see what is next?"
Bao
13 years ago
It took a great deal of effort and skill to 'not notice' that look. In the end one corner of his mouth flicked upward almost like a smile. Bao could only hope that he'd met with her approval, and he suspected he had.
"Then perhaps he should not leave her so easily. Persistence is often rewarded."
Bao swallowed hard, like a nervous teenager when she placed her hand on his chest. It was surprisingly warm. Delicate, yet firm, tender yet quite arousing. Even as she grew bolder, he could not simply toss off the cloak of manner that surrounded him. If they had been alone, if they had been alone Bao doubted they would have made it this far into the exhibit.
Inwardly he groaned when she turned away. Apparently he was not very good at this game, Claire was winning. He, however, found he didn't mind losing.
"Are you an artist then madam? And you expect me to believe you do not have models flocking to you all praying that you will find them to be your muse?"
Perhaps it was too late for that. What Bao saw, what he dealt with, had long ago become common place. Hell was empty and all the demons here, he was one of them. He believed that and had accepted it as his fate. But since coming to Nachton Bao had found several things to make him question that. Nearly losing Amir, finding he actually cared for his wayward daughter, and now very possibly, Claire.
"Happy and content are not quite the same are they?"
He had been content, most days he still was, but perhaps not all.
"I think we shall."
The next paining was a portrait, something they'd not seen yet. A single figure. St. Teresa of Avila as a young woman by Francois Gerard.
"A country woman I believe. He achieved remarkable expression in the eyes."
"Then perhaps he should not leave her so easily. Persistence is often rewarded."
Bao swallowed hard, like a nervous teenager when she placed her hand on his chest. It was surprisingly warm. Delicate, yet firm, tender yet quite arousing. Even as she grew bolder, he could not simply toss off the cloak of manner that surrounded him. If they had been alone, if they had been alone Bao doubted they would have made it this far into the exhibit.
Inwardly he groaned when she turned away. Apparently he was not very good at this game, Claire was winning. He, however, found he didn't mind losing.
"Are you an artist then madam? And you expect me to believe you do not have models flocking to you all praying that you will find them to be your muse?"
Perhaps it was too late for that. What Bao saw, what he dealt with, had long ago become common place. Hell was empty and all the demons here, he was one of them. He believed that and had accepted it as his fate. But since coming to Nachton Bao had found several things to make him question that. Nearly losing Amir, finding he actually cared for his wayward daughter, and now very possibly, Claire.
"Happy and content are not quite the same are they?"
He had been content, most days he still was, but perhaps not all.
"I think we shall."
The next paining was a portrait, something they'd not seen yet. A single figure. St. Teresa of Avila as a young woman by Francois Gerard.
"A country woman I believe. He achieved remarkable expression in the eyes."
Claire
13 years ago
"That is what they say." Claire smiled at Bao and then looked back at the woman in the painting. She did not think there was any persistence there but that was a different time. Women were expected to wait demurely or perhaps connive from the shadows but not much more. The persistence was the man's task and the woman's was to play coy. If she gave up too easily how would she know she made the right choice and perhaps her hunter too would believe that he could find more worthy prey since this one was so easily caught.
Bao asked her if she was an artist and she smiled and shook her head. "Non, Monsieur, pas moi." She shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "I sketch sometimes..." Claire blushed slightly. She had painted from time to time but she was not so skilled as the artists around her. Her humble paintings graced her home in France and one or two even hung on Sorin's walls. He always indulged any of her artistic loves and she thought he chose to show off her efforts out of a Creator's pride and not any real expectation of her artistic ability. "There are no models." She smiled again and added. "Unless one counts hapless drugged patients in the hospital as willing subjects flocking to my call." Claire chuckled. She did love to colour with the children and had occasionally sat and sketched in the lobby of the hospital, picking out faces and scenes for a quick look into the lives of strangers.
"Non, almost perhaps, but not quite the same. Perhaps it is better to be content but I find thinking beings will always strive for happiness if they feel there is some hope of reaching it." Contentment was the safer road but happiness had a lure that was hard to deny. Often it burned brightly for a while and then you were left alone and sad in the dark. But for that brief moment your life shined with the brilliance of joy and everything seemed wonderful.
They moved on to the next painting. She nodded and Bao, agreeing about the expression in the eyes. "It is interesting that she appears to be looking at the viewer. Most of the time saints are painted looking toward heaven. I imagine the posture is considered more devout." Claire looked up at the portrait of the dark eyed young woman. She was beautiful and her eyes were lifted just slightly but not in the otherworldly gaze of many popular pictures of godly people. Instead she seemed to be staring calmly at the viewer almost as if she could weigh their hearts with her gaze.
"I like it." She stated quite frankly. She did not have many reasons to give. She liked the realness of the woman. "She appears human, touchable, which makes her fallible and that makes her achievements all the more impressive." When painters showed the saints as otherworldly they were taking something away from the human that accomplished those great deeds with the same frailty and doubts of any other man or woman.
Bao asked her if she was an artist and she smiled and shook her head. "Non, Monsieur, pas moi." She shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "I sketch sometimes..." Claire blushed slightly. She had painted from time to time but she was not so skilled as the artists around her. Her humble paintings graced her home in France and one or two even hung on Sorin's walls. He always indulged any of her artistic loves and she thought he chose to show off her efforts out of a Creator's pride and not any real expectation of her artistic ability. "There are no models." She smiled again and added. "Unless one counts hapless drugged patients in the hospital as willing subjects flocking to my call." Claire chuckled. She did love to colour with the children and had occasionally sat and sketched in the lobby of the hospital, picking out faces and scenes for a quick look into the lives of strangers.
"Non, almost perhaps, but not quite the same. Perhaps it is better to be content but I find thinking beings will always strive for happiness if they feel there is some hope of reaching it." Contentment was the safer road but happiness had a lure that was hard to deny. Often it burned brightly for a while and then you were left alone and sad in the dark. But for that brief moment your life shined with the brilliance of joy and everything seemed wonderful.
They moved on to the next painting. She nodded and Bao, agreeing about the expression in the eyes. "It is interesting that she appears to be looking at the viewer. Most of the time saints are painted looking toward heaven. I imagine the posture is considered more devout." Claire looked up at the portrait of the dark eyed young woman. She was beautiful and her eyes were lifted just slightly but not in the otherworldly gaze of many popular pictures of godly people. Instead she seemed to be staring calmly at the viewer almost as if she could weigh their hearts with her gaze.
"I like it." She stated quite frankly. She did not have many reasons to give. She liked the realness of the woman. "She appears human, touchable, which makes her fallible and that makes her achievements all the more impressive." When painters showed the saints as otherworldly they were taking something away from the human that accomplished those great deeds with the same frailty and doubts of any other man or woman.
Bao
13 years ago
Bao wondered how persistent he was going to have to be. Certainly he didn't mind making an effort if the prize was worth winning, but he also wondered if Claire would understand that his persistence would almost always be courtly, mannerly and that that was not for lack of interest. Perhaps, after they left the museum. He had hoped she would share a glass of wine and some stargazing with him...
The French did have the most peculiar attitude about their language. The curator slipped into her native tongue on a regular basis, especially when she was particularly frustrated with either him or herself. Those outbursts he tolerated, after all he spoke the language fluently it didn't matter to him how she chose to speak. From Claire, however, he found it charming, almost modest. It made him want to draw her out to coax more of a response from her.
"I should like to see your sketches some time. If you will allow it."
Again he smiled, it seemed that was something he did regularly with Claire. And it was starting to feel less awkward and more natural.
"That is good to know. While I do not mind competition, I do very much dislike loosing and cutting through hordes of admirers..."
He wanted to hold her in his arms again and was very much considering doing just that when another couple passed behind them. They were perfectly polite, well dressed and did not do anything at all to disturb him, only reminded him that they were in public.
"I think madam that you may be of a more optimistic nature. I'm afraid my thoughts of happiness typically involve what humans and even we are capable of doing to one another to prevent an individual's happiness But, I should be honored to have some small part in helping you to find even a brief moment."
It was a lovely painting, again almost a photograph but this one Bao, for all he had been looking forward to seeing it, did not find had as much spirit as some of the others. He decided thought, that that was due to the subject matter.
"Transcendence of one's limits is always a moving theme and yet it is something that is not often achieved."
The French did have the most peculiar attitude about their language. The curator slipped into her native tongue on a regular basis, especially when she was particularly frustrated with either him or herself. Those outbursts he tolerated, after all he spoke the language fluently it didn't matter to him how she chose to speak. From Claire, however, he found it charming, almost modest. It made him want to draw her out to coax more of a response from her.
"I should like to see your sketches some time. If you will allow it."
Again he smiled, it seemed that was something he did regularly with Claire. And it was starting to feel less awkward and more natural.
"That is good to know. While I do not mind competition, I do very much dislike loosing and cutting through hordes of admirers..."
He wanted to hold her in his arms again and was very much considering doing just that when another couple passed behind them. They were perfectly polite, well dressed and did not do anything at all to disturb him, only reminded him that they were in public.
"I think madam that you may be of a more optimistic nature. I'm afraid my thoughts of happiness typically involve what humans and even we are capable of doing to one another to prevent an individual's happiness But, I should be honored to have some small part in helping you to find even a brief moment."
It was a lovely painting, again almost a photograph but this one Bao, for all he had been looking forward to seeing it, did not find had as much spirit as some of the others. He decided thought, that that was due to the subject matter.
"Transcendence of one's limits is always a moving theme and yet it is something that is not often achieved."
Claire
13 years ago
"If you like." Claire smiled. "I just hope that you are not disappointed. I am a better doctor than an artist." She used her sketching ability most often to make drawings of herbs and flowers with notes of uses, locations, flowering season, and other such details. Those drawings need not be creative so much as accurate. It was an odd hobby, chronicling information, for someone with an eidetic memory and yet she enjoyed it. Claire found that it was peaceful, carefully logging the things she knew, and she enjoyed the thought that it might some day help another person whose memory was not written in such indelible ink.
Her smile brightened at the thought, silly though it might be, of Bao fighting off other admirers to be first at her side. There were no other admirers but the dream was sweet and the thought, even mentioned in jest, was a pleasant one.
She listened to his own opinion on happiness and knew that he was also correct. It was the uglier side of life that doctors and lawyers saw so much of, the people who felt that if they could not have what they wanted then the other people around them shouldn't have it either, or the people who saw something good in another person's life and became determined to tear it down, or the ones who were just miserable and lonely inside and wanted other people to feel that way too. The world was full of ugliness but she felt it was full of beauty as well.
Her companion expressed his hope to help bringing happiness to her life. "You do, Bao." Claire smiled at him. "I enjoy spending time with you." She looked down thoughtfully, sorting out how to explain her feelings to him in a way that did not sound juvenile. "You are brilliant, interesting, funny and kind. You have never turned me away, even when I have come to you with my troubles. You listened and never seemed scornful or impatient to be elsewhere despite how busy you were." Claire blushed and added softly. "You make me feel special."
She looked back at the painting of the saint. "Few people are sufficiently motivated to move beyond their limits. That is why the ones that do become leaders, heroes and saints." Claire shrugged. She was none of those things and content not to be. She would continue to push her boundaries slowly, widening them at a comfortable pace. It was not the stuff of legend; it was the stuff of life.
Her smile brightened at the thought, silly though it might be, of Bao fighting off other admirers to be first at her side. There were no other admirers but the dream was sweet and the thought, even mentioned in jest, was a pleasant one.
She listened to his own opinion on happiness and knew that he was also correct. It was the uglier side of life that doctors and lawyers saw so much of, the people who felt that if they could not have what they wanted then the other people around them shouldn't have it either, or the people who saw something good in another person's life and became determined to tear it down, or the ones who were just miserable and lonely inside and wanted other people to feel that way too. The world was full of ugliness but she felt it was full of beauty as well.
Her companion expressed his hope to help bringing happiness to her life. "You do, Bao." Claire smiled at him. "I enjoy spending time with you." She looked down thoughtfully, sorting out how to explain her feelings to him in a way that did not sound juvenile. "You are brilliant, interesting, funny and kind. You have never turned me away, even when I have come to you with my troubles. You listened and never seemed scornful or impatient to be elsewhere despite how busy you were." Claire blushed and added softly. "You make me feel special."
She looked back at the painting of the saint. "Few people are sufficiently motivated to move beyond their limits. That is why the ones that do become leaders, heroes and saints." Claire shrugged. She was none of those things and content not to be. She would continue to push her boundaries slowly, widening them at a comfortable pace. It was not the stuff of legend; it was the stuff of life.
Bao
13 years ago
"I shall look forward to that then.â€
Art of any sort tended to be quite personal and to be allowed to share it was an honor, he was not unaware of that. It was slightly more... well sharing his collection might be perceived as bragging or posturing. But it was something he loved and would be happy to share.
That he did make her happy was something of a surprise, a good one of course. He hadn't been certainly he'd made that much of an impression. More than slightly encouraged he stopped them both and leaned in close, it would take nothing to kiss her. But at the very last second he took her hand and kissed it again more exuberantly, with more emotion than he had before.
"You flatter me, but if it makes you happy...â€
There was some humor to his words, just a bit though as he didn't want to dismiss or cheapen the moment. Uncomfortable with the emotion of the moment and not at all certain how to respond or what to say beyond what he had.
"Some hare born great and some have greatness thrust upon them?â€
He didn't disagree though. Of course often enough it was the circumstances that made the man rather than the man himself. If there was no need to do something different, people tended to do the same thing.
Art of any sort tended to be quite personal and to be allowed to share it was an honor, he was not unaware of that. It was slightly more... well sharing his collection might be perceived as bragging or posturing. But it was something he loved and would be happy to share.
That he did make her happy was something of a surprise, a good one of course. He hadn't been certainly he'd made that much of an impression. More than slightly encouraged he stopped them both and leaned in close, it would take nothing to kiss her. But at the very last second he took her hand and kissed it again more exuberantly, with more emotion than he had before.
"You flatter me, but if it makes you happy...â€
There was some humor to his words, just a bit though as he didn't want to dismiss or cheapen the moment. Uncomfortable with the emotion of the moment and not at all certain how to respond or what to say beyond what he had.
"Some hare born great and some have greatness thrust upon them?â€
He didn't disagree though. Of course often enough it was the circumstances that made the man rather than the man himself. If there was no need to do something different, people tended to do the same thing.
Claire
13 years ago
Claire halted and turned toward Bao when he stopped. He leaned close and she thought he meant to kiss her. She leaned forward in anticipation, her heart waking up in her chest, beating almost as quickly as a human's. He was so close and then he stopped and kissed her hand.
She repressed the disappointed sigh that almost came to her lips and smiled instead. Obviously Bao needed more time. Claire wondered how he had missed the changes in relationships over these years. The displays of public affection had gone brushing fingertips, to holding hands, to dancing tongues. She could not imagine herself being so crude with the entire world as an audience, nor could she believe of it Bao. Still, perhaps in another date or two, they could manage a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Quite. What makes you happy, Bao?"
How enlightening would the answer to that question be? Would he answer her truthfully or give her some evasive answer like happiness was too difficult to define? Claire hoped for a little insight on her enigmatic companion; thought she supposed any answer was at least a little more knowledge than she had before.
Speaking of greatness, she shrugged. "Perhaps. Though a single spark of greatness needs to be sustained otherwise it is simply a bright memory in an otherwise average life. To continue what extraordinary circumstances might bring about in a person, they must be motivated to do so...so it still comes back to a will for something more."
Some vampires possessed that quality, a lot of them actually. Vampires are created and not born; therefore their 'parent' had the choice to make them. Many of their kind seek out people who shine a bit brighter than the rest. Sometimes it is only physical beauty but other times great genius and talent that have motivated vampires to give a human the gift of eternal life.
"What's next?"
She repressed the disappointed sigh that almost came to her lips and smiled instead. Obviously Bao needed more time. Claire wondered how he had missed the changes in relationships over these years. The displays of public affection had gone brushing fingertips, to holding hands, to dancing tongues. She could not imagine herself being so crude with the entire world as an audience, nor could she believe of it Bao. Still, perhaps in another date or two, they could manage a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Quite. What makes you happy, Bao?"
How enlightening would the answer to that question be? Would he answer her truthfully or give her some evasive answer like happiness was too difficult to define? Claire hoped for a little insight on her enigmatic companion; thought she supposed any answer was at least a little more knowledge than she had before.
Speaking of greatness, she shrugged. "Perhaps. Though a single spark of greatness needs to be sustained otherwise it is simply a bright memory in an otherwise average life. To continue what extraordinary circumstances might bring about in a person, they must be motivated to do so...so it still comes back to a will for something more."
Some vampires possessed that quality, a lot of them actually. Vampires are created and not born; therefore their 'parent' had the choice to make them. Many of their kind seek out people who shine a bit brighter than the rest. Sometimes it is only physical beauty but other times great genius and talent that have motivated vampires to give a human the gift of eternal life.
"What's next?"
Bao
13 years ago
He was being a bit too formal and he knew it. Bao was incredibly disappointed not to have kissed her. He wanted to. In some ways Bao wished she would make the first move but that was absurd one could not expect that of a lady. Still if he knew for sure he would not offend her he would be able to make a leap.
The question was unexpected and he had no idea how to answer it. He walked with her for a bit, silently considering. Bao was not accustom to speaking without thoroughly considering his words, but he also knew one couldn't think forever. Silence communicated as much, if not more.
Finally he frowned.
"I do not know." He answered honestly. "I enjoy many things. Perhaps my family, being of use to them. Art, my children."
He was never exactly ecstatic or amazingly happy but those things he suddenly realized did make him happy even if it was in a subtle and subdued way. Thus far being with Claire made him happy as well. She was, special. But it was certainly too soon to say something like that.
Bao found himself smiling. Claire would be a wonderful lawyer and he enjoyed the casual near debate they were having.
"Sometimes a single moment of greatness is just as important as a life time."
Ensuring he still had a light hold on Claire he guided them down through the gallery and for once he wasn't entirely focused on the art. He did not know what was next, he was far too interested in the woman he had the privilege of escorting.
"What ever you would like, but it seems the next painting is Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog."
It was lovely. Even though there was more motion and less detail it reminded him of the mountain scape they had admired earlier.
"Does it remind you of home?"
The question was unexpected and he had no idea how to answer it. He walked with her for a bit, silently considering. Bao was not accustom to speaking without thoroughly considering his words, but he also knew one couldn't think forever. Silence communicated as much, if not more.
Finally he frowned.
"I do not know." He answered honestly. "I enjoy many things. Perhaps my family, being of use to them. Art, my children."
He was never exactly ecstatic or amazingly happy but those things he suddenly realized did make him happy even if it was in a subtle and subdued way. Thus far being with Claire made him happy as well. She was, special. But it was certainly too soon to say something like that.
Bao found himself smiling. Claire would be a wonderful lawyer and he enjoyed the casual near debate they were having.
"Sometimes a single moment of greatness is just as important as a life time."
Ensuring he still had a light hold on Claire he guided them down through the gallery and for once he wasn't entirely focused on the art. He did not know what was next, he was far too interested in the woman he had the privilege of escorting.
"What ever you would like, but it seems the next painting is Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog."
It was lovely. Even though there was more motion and less detail it reminded him of the mountain scape they had admired earlier.
"Does it remind you of home?"
Claire
13 years ago
Claire had somehow hoped that he would say that she made him happy but perhaps it was too soon for that. She still felt a little crestfallen as he listed off the things that made him happy, family, children, even art was listed but not her. She felt like she had put her feelings out there and she was beginning to wonder whether she was being foolish; perhaps Bao did not feel the same way.
He did ask her out so he must be interested, at least a little,right?
She snorted softly at his statement about a moment of greatness. "It is certainly easier to achieve." She laughed. "Those are even more memorable if you manage to die while doing the act that is considered great. Sadly that does not allow you to enjoy it very much."
Looking at the painting in front of them, she nodded quietly. "It does, very much so." Claire regarded the painting thoughtfully. "I think I like this one even more than the other one. I find a man appreciating nature to be much more agreeable than a cross. Perhaps that is very shallow of me." She turned to Bao and raised her eyebrows in silent question.
He did ask her out so he must be interested, at least a little,right?
She snorted softly at his statement about a moment of greatness. "It is certainly easier to achieve." She laughed. "Those are even more memorable if you manage to die while doing the act that is considered great. Sadly that does not allow you to enjoy it very much."
Looking at the painting in front of them, she nodded quietly. "It does, very much so." Claire regarded the painting thoughtfully. "I think I like this one even more than the other one. I find a man appreciating nature to be much more agreeable than a cross. Perhaps that is very shallow of me." She turned to Bao and raised her eyebrows in silent question.
Bao
13 years ago
He was not doing this well or right or something. Perhaps he should have spoken to Mara or even Pakpao for some additional in-site. Bao simply didn't know -how- to express undying love, or even a mild crush. It just was beyond him, yet he knew it was expected and necessary. But it was too late to bring the moment back. He would just have to wait for another and try again.
"But one also wouldn't have to live with the consequences of said act. Acts of heroism never go without unanticipated results.â€
As they studied the painting in front of them he again considered a more forward and familiar gesture. As he smiled slightly at the idea that Claire could be considered shallow after hesitating for a moment Bao gently smoothed back an errant lock of Claire's hair.
"As I happen to agree with you I think you are safe on that count. Of course, even if I didn't agree with you your character could never be so maligned. There is ample evidence to the contrary.â€
"But one also wouldn't have to live with the consequences of said act. Acts of heroism never go without unanticipated results.â€
As they studied the painting in front of them he again considered a more forward and familiar gesture. As he smiled slightly at the idea that Claire could be considered shallow after hesitating for a moment Bao gently smoothed back an errant lock of Claire's hair.
"As I happen to agree with you I think you are safe on that count. Of course, even if I didn't agree with you your character could never be so maligned. There is ample evidence to the contrary.â€
Claire
13 years ago
Claire laughed softly at Bao's continued argument over the acts of greatness. It had taken a somewhat slanting path away from the original point of contention but that was the way of such discussions. There was no forgetting that she was speaking to a lawyer but she enjoyed their debate. It was so rare these days, now that Sorin was gone from the Manor, for her life to have such educated conversation in it. The shelter and the hospital were both filled with wonderful people, many of them very kind hearted and giving, but while some of the doctors might possibly be able to speak intelligently on a number of subjects, they rarely had the time to engage in fulfilling intellectual banter.
"All right, I concede, Monsieur." She smiled at him. "You have won your argument. Singular acts of greatness are indeed worthy of 'some' respect." Claire gave him a sideways glance, wondering if he had caught the small word that suggested she had not fully surrendered the fight.
She blushed once more at his kind words and hoped that he was too busy gazing at the painting to notice. "Merci, Monsieur. You are most kind."
It was hard for her to say why she preferred the man, a much larger obstruction to the view of nature around him, to the cross. Claire considered it for a moment and decided that the religious symbol thrust a certain point of view upon the viewer. It said 'Here is Christianity atop even this glorious mountain and I have painted it for everyone to see and acknowledge'. In the image before them there was simply a man, he could be anyone, a preacher, a merchant or a noble, pausing to view the waves before him. There is no certainty about his feelings toward the waves, as his back was to the viewer. It was equally possible that the view invoked pain as it was for it to invoke joy but the choice was the viewer's and not the artist's. She found that to be very open minded of the painter. Claire would like to believe that the man in the painting found the same comfort in the waves that she did, and as such she felt a kinship with him.
"I will have to see if they have a poster of this one in the shop." She turned and smiled at Bao. "I know I have changed my mind but I believe that is a woman's prerogative."
"All right, I concede, Monsieur." She smiled at him. "You have won your argument. Singular acts of greatness are indeed worthy of 'some' respect." Claire gave him a sideways glance, wondering if he had caught the small word that suggested she had not fully surrendered the fight.
She blushed once more at his kind words and hoped that he was too busy gazing at the painting to notice. "Merci, Monsieur. You are most kind."
It was hard for her to say why she preferred the man, a much larger obstruction to the view of nature around him, to the cross. Claire considered it for a moment and decided that the religious symbol thrust a certain point of view upon the viewer. It said 'Here is Christianity atop even this glorious mountain and I have painted it for everyone to see and acknowledge'. In the image before them there was simply a man, he could be anyone, a preacher, a merchant or a noble, pausing to view the waves before him. There is no certainty about his feelings toward the waves, as his back was to the viewer. It was equally possible that the view invoked pain as it was for it to invoke joy but the choice was the viewer's and not the artist's. She found that to be very open minded of the painter. Claire would like to believe that the man in the painting found the same comfort in the waves that she did, and as such she felt a kinship with him.
"I will have to see if they have a poster of this one in the shop." She turned and smiled at Bao. "I know I have changed my mind but I believe that is a woman's prerogative."
Bao
13 years ago
"I shall accept any modicum of victory you wish to award me.â€
Bao said with exaggerated formality and gallantry. He might not be able to shed his manners but he could make them something of a game.
Knowing who her creator was, and that Claire herself was quite intelligent, it didn't truly surprise him that she wouldn't concede victory entirely or that she would play with a technicality. He found it immensely appealing. Along with the slight blush that she seemed to be hiding, or at least not calling attention to.
"You may be one of the very few people who think so.â€
Bao said with a touch of a smile. He knew his own reputation and personality well enough to know that was true and to not be offended by it. If she could see past that though, he was extreamly flattered.
Turning his gaze back to the painting he simply admired the power in the waves and the lone figure contemplating that power. He respected this man though, he didn't seem in awe of the crashing waves, he acknowledged them for what they were and respected them. It was as much as any one could do when confronted by a force greater than they were whether that be man made or nature.[
Bao laughed at her change of heart regarding the art work.
"I think they must have a print of it. Would you let me get it for you?â€
Bao said with exaggerated formality and gallantry. He might not be able to shed his manners but he could make them something of a game.
Knowing who her creator was, and that Claire herself was quite intelligent, it didn't truly surprise him that she wouldn't concede victory entirely or that she would play with a technicality. He found it immensely appealing. Along with the slight blush that she seemed to be hiding, or at least not calling attention to.
"You may be one of the very few people who think so.â€
Bao said with a touch of a smile. He knew his own reputation and personality well enough to know that was true and to not be offended by it. If she could see past that though, he was extreamly flattered.
Turning his gaze back to the painting he simply admired the power in the waves and the lone figure contemplating that power. He respected this man though, he didn't seem in awe of the crashing waves, he acknowledged them for what they were and respected them. It was as much as any one could do when confronted by a force greater than they were whether that be man made or nature.[
Bao laughed at her change of heart regarding the art work.
"I think they must have a print of it. Would you let me get it for you?â€