Logs:Dirt
| Dirt | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia | 2024-11-18 "Oh, I ain't moralizing." (Part of Lean In plot.) |
| Location
<NYC> A Backyard - Riverdale | |
In another time, this yard held chickens, a beautiful community garden, a firepit around which people gathered nightly for music or lively tales. The chickens are gone, the garden still here, though now it's carefully fenced off and tended (immaculately) by a team of paid landscapers. On Sniffspot, now, this place advertises itself as "Relaxing oasis for dogs and owners", touting the many amenities that keep humans in comfortable quiet privacy while their dogs play. Certainly Flèche is enjoying herself, tearing happily around the larger yard before she bounds back up to the gazebo where Lucien has been tucked (on "exquisitely hand-crafted furniture made by a local woodworker!") eschewing the available heating but taking full advantage of the wifi to catch up on work. He's comfortably dressed -- well-tailored straight-leg jeans and a soft long-sleeved green henley underneath his brown chore jacket, brown chelsea boots. He sets aside the thermos of tea he's been sipping at, plucks up a ball from bedside himself and waggles it a few times before Flèche before sending her rocketing across the yard after a long throw. There's another pair coming through the gates -- a Borzoi, white fur already fairly darkened with mudstains, her human far more immaculate in intricately braided updo, subtle makeup, very unsubtle bold colorblocked manicure, vivid kelly green top with contrasting blue collar, patterned loose-flowing pants in uneven white and yellow and green and blue and black stripes. She's got on black pointy-toed ankle boots and a lightweight black trench. Toni is unclipping her pup's pink and green lead after closing the gate snug behind them -- she keeps a careful eye on the dogs as they sniff each other and only once they are tumbling around the lawn as if they've been besties for years rather than 10 Seconds is she making her way to the gazebo. She pauses outside it to admire the garden, then makes her way inside. "Mr. Tessier?" Her smile is warm. "Fine dog you've got." "Ms. Jefferson." Lucien stows his work immediately, rising with a polite inclination of his head that hints at bowing without actually doing so. There's an amusement in the crinkle of this eyes as he watches the dogs; it carries over to his gentle voice -- "And yours -- goodness, in photographs they always look so majestic. Anahita has spoken very highly of this pup." He turns back to Toni with a gesture of invitation to an adjacent seat. "Thank you for taking the time, I'm sure your work keeps you tremendously busy. Given your reputation I'm a little surprised our paths haven't already crossed." "Of the pup." Toni is echoing this with a wide smile, hand pressing to her chest as if to contain the laughter bubbling up in her. "That do sound like her." She settles in the seat, crossing one knee over the other. Her elbow rests on the arm of her chair, forefinger and thumb cradling her chin and cheek in a casual L shape. "Given yours, I'm not. Keep a surprisingly low profile on my side of your business." Her eyes flick up and down Luci, sharp appraisal a harder contrast to the ease of her smile. "Makes sense, doubt Disney'd be the most thrilled 'bout a coupla the folks I hear you been in bed with." "I believe quite firmly in separating my public and private lives." Lucien takes his seat again, his hand turning up elegantly. "Disney has its own reputation to keep. You and I, though, are practically metamours -- I doubt you could be so very much concerned with my bedfellows." He drops his hand to his lap, gaze idly tracking to the dogs romping in the yard. "Oh, I ain't moralizing, I just lain down with enough dogs I like to do a flea check first." Toni's leg bounces casually. The tip of her head, eyes cast towards Lucien's things still on the table, is unsubtle. "So exactly how filthy you proposing we get?" Lucien's mouth twitches. "Nothing that will shock you, I'm sure." He tugs a folder out from under his laptop and slides it across to Toni. "I've even brought my own dirt. I just need your help spreading it to the right places." Toni plucks the folder up, sitting up as she shuffles its contents into one manicured hand. She's leafing through the papers, brows lifting. "-- your own mother, boy --" does not actually sound shocked. Not chiding, either. Just a faint amusement together with her small shake of head. "Well. Like you say. Who am I to judge." | |
