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Post by perri alexis baines on Jul 17, 2016 12:22:36 GMT -5
There was definitely a crick in in her neck. She felt it the second she tried to move, as the lull of sleep finally began to lift. Perri also became aware that she wasn’t alone, or on the couch she had in her studio. The events of the previous night quickly came back to her and she smiled to herself before opening her brown eyes slowly. Her original plans to finish up at O’Malley’s and put in a session in her secret studio had been scuppered by a devilishly handsome man with a devastating smirk. She’d ended up spending her time with Wilder before making it no further than his couch. Perri didn’t make a habit of going home with gorgeous men, but every now and then someone charmed her into thinking it was a good idea. Wilder had made her think it was a great idea, and she hadn’t been disappointed. She also hadn’t been inclined to sneak off once before the dawn and make it awkwardly clear that he shouldn’t ask after her again. No, she was still angled awkwardly besides him, as morning pulled them both away from dreams.
It took Perri a couple minutes more to realise that she wasn’t still in a dream though, because when she looked up she found herself staring at something a little too familiar. She was in a near stranger’s apartment, and hanging before her was a piece of artwork she had sold at her last show only four months ago. It was a large piece, and one of her favourites to date, which had made her a little hesitant to sell it at first. However, she had no room or real reason to keep it, so ultimately it had wound up being the first piece marked up as sold. Seeing it again now almost made her want to laugh out loud, but Perri knew that she couldn’t. No one outside of her agent and his assistant knew that she was the artist Orion. She kind of wanted to keep it that way, too. Being discreet about her life in the art world meant that she got to play bartender in her daily life and meet all kinds of people – it meant she met Wilder last night! Still, Perri had never stumbled upon one of her pieces outside of a gallery before now. It was a bizarre feeling, and inside she was freaking out a little bit.
Her eyes kept going back to the painting, the arrangement of the colours exactly as she remembered them. She should easily ignore it, pretend it’s not even there and talk or do a million other things, but Perri was always the girl who put her foot in her mouth sooner or later. She was a chatterbox who somehow hadn’t talked Wilder’s ear off the night before, or said something that made him call her a cab home instead. Nodding towards the piece of art, she decided she had to get it out of her system now before it built up and led to more trouble later. “Interesting painting. I didn’t have you pegged as the artsy type last night.” She said candidly, throwing in a wicked smile to try to make it seem less conspicuous. She did not want to scream the truth at him; “Hi mate, you brought home the artist of that expensive piece, and her shirt is currently hanging on your television.” It might turn something amazing into something awkward.
• • • TAGGED! Wilder Ezra Bishop WORDS! 584! OUTFIT! Amused Artist! LYRICS! Moving On - - - Good Charlotte NOTES! <3
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Post by Wilder Ezra Bishop on Jun 12, 2017 12:27:38 GMT -5
![](http://i.imgur.com/e1YtDm7.png) ![](http://i.imgur.com/kVhctTV.png) Wilder didn't always live up to the name his parent's gifted him with. He could be a very wild man but he took his responsibilities seriously. He never drank the night before a stunt, not worth the risk and stunts were a tricky business; but it was one that paid very well. He could have continued to race, he'd been damn good at it, though his siblings didn't want to admit as much. He could drive or race with a motor, loved the thrill of it all but he'd found a calling in stunts. Wilder got paid well because he'd actually read, and understood, his contract. It was definitely a pro having a law degree in his back pocket. He scratched up a decent chunk of the contract and wrote up a new one where he definitely got the better end of the deal. Producers and studios had a wonderful little habit of agreeing to plenty when they realise the lawyer is the same person signing the deals. He would never be the highest paid person in a movie or on a set but he made a pretty penny for himself.
It was with those pretty pennies he was able to have the apartment he did, the toys he had and the artwork that graced his walls. They also helped pay for the night's out that he enjoyed with the rest of the crew. That group were always good for a laugh. Their night's usually had a habit of being a bit blurry the morning, or afternoon after but it was usually worth a good chuckle when laughing or moving wasn't so painful. The night before was the first that he hadn't been totally blurry. In fact, he remember quite a bit of the night before; even in that space coming out of sleep. Every sordid little detail replayed itself in his head so he had a smirk on his face, even though the pillow just barely under his head told him the couch was as far as they'd made it.
Wilder cracked an eye to look up at the painting in question. It was by far his absolute favourite in his collection, which was why it was the statement piece of his living room. He wanted everyone to see it and comment on it. Of course, he also wanted everyone to love it just as much as he did, though his friend and current roommate wasn't as fond of it, or any of the art, as he was. "I am a man of many mysteries." He told her with a smirk, closing his eye again. There were only a handful of pieces even in the apartment and all but one belonged to the same artist. He'd been dragged to a gallery show a while back and instantly fell for the charm of the artwork. And the artist became his favourite just as quickly. The only one not by Orion was the one in the guest bathroom. That had been something his sister gave him as a housewarming present. He wasn't overly fond of it but she seemed to be taken with it and he hated disappointing his baby sister. "Like it?" He asked, curious what Perri thought of the piece.
♦ ♦ ♦ Tag || perri alexis baines Words || 541 Clothes || Coming Soon Music || Think Of You --Chris Young Notes || <3
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Post by perri alexis baines on Jul 19, 2017 15:26:27 GMT -5
Perri didn’t know what her parents would think if they knew the truth about her life. She knew they frowned on her working in a pub at her age, flitting from her previous jobs like she was still a student with so many choices. They had never been completely comfortable with her love of art, and the way she chased her art degree in Chelsea. They’d have rather she studied something more practical, something she could put to use in a well paying job. If they knew what her paintings sold for they might not frown across the dining room table at her when she did ‘afford’ a trip home to the London borough. Still, she loved them because they were her family, but the short trips were also enough for her. She was something of a black sheep, and she accepted that. If she told them the truth about her secret identity they’d never be able to keep their proud mouths shut and her wonderful dual life would be over before she landed in New York again. As it was, Perri quite liked being able to come and go as she pleased, serving up drinks before having to pull her hair back and work on the next Orion masterpiece. It could never happen if the truth was out there, and ‘Perri Baines’ was scribbled at the bottom of each canvas.
Still, it was weird to see her work somewhere that wasn’t a formal gallery, or propped up in her studio. It was even weirder knowing that the man who owned it was right behind her on a couch just big enough for the two of them if they snuggled in close – which they had done during the night, or morning, whenever they had passed out there. The people who typically came in O’Malley’s were far from the type she saw at her exhibitions. Beer was swapped for wine, and Ripper’s dishes were great, but they weren’t the overly expensive canapés that had never quite agreed with Perri’s common stomach. Give her chips and gravy any day; at least they didn’t leave her racing for a bathroom to throw everything but the kitchen sink back up again.
Perri stared at the painting, having a vivid flashback to the hours she spent working on it in her studio. All the feelings flooded back to her, and she could recall the smell of the turpentine, the music on the static filled radio, and the sound of the rain on the metal roof. She smiled, running her hand over Wilder’s arm. “So you are.” She murmured, raising her eyebrows when he asked for her opinion. Perri let out a long breath and then rolled over to face him, not even needing to study the painting to know how to explain it. Why would she? She was the artist, after all. “It’s very sexualised.” She stated strongly, meeting his gaze and not daring to break it. “The shapes, and the bold use of scarlet and crimson are obvious enough for that much, but then there’s the underlying opera mauve, which is a completely underused shade, but used here in a very intimate manner with how it peeks out and we’re allowed just a glimpse of it. Also, mauve is a name of a jellyfish that will sting the bleeding life out of you, so it’s a coy playful use of the shade, but perhaps also indicative of danger for anyone who gets too close.” She stopped herself and ran her hand down Wilder’s chest. “I think the artist really needed to get laid – badly.” She grinned wickedly, tilting her head to one side before propping herself up on her free hand, while with her other she drew swirls over his chest lightly with her fingertips. “Also, never ask a Chelsea Art grad about a painting. You’ll regret it.” Thankfully her degree provided an excellent cover when her blabbermouth slipped up in crucial moments. In the past it had only happened during the exhibitions she was lurking at, but this was just as bad. Wilder probably only needed a yes or no answer, but Perri had gone on as if she was in one of her old theory exams. Hell, she didn’t even put that much thought into her work when she did it; the paintbrushes guided themselves as she zoned out and gave herself to the muses.
• • • TAGGED! Wilder Ezra Bishop WORDS! 743! OUTFIT! Amused Artist! LYRICS! Moving On - - - Good Charlotte NOTES! <3
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