Flashing Lights • •

[Lucien Carlisle Pendry]

Lucien was the kind of guy who forgot time as it passed by. He could slip quite easily into his own world, conjured up by his fantastic imagination and the time passed there completely differently to how time passed in reality. He had been sat at his laptop countless times before today and the night had turned into morning without him even realising it until the sound of his alarm rang out or Cleo began singing with the rest of the dawn chorus. This was definitely a more common occurrence during the summer since he wasn’t teaching and had more time to commit to his own writing. It was foolish, really, when he knew that he ought to have a full night of sleep for the sake of his health. Lucien just had a habit of forgetting once he started running with an idea. It was probably the same habit that led to some of his classes overrunning on occasion!

It was probably how he would have spent this very day, but instead he found lunch time approaching and his work slowing. His deadline with his publisher was three weeks away and most of the novel was already completed. Luc knew how it was going to end, had the build-up prepared in his head and on post-it notes plastered around his spare room, but there was something else needed. There was a whole load of information to pad out with actual events and on this day it just didn’t seem to come as naturally to him as it usually did. He loathed writer’s block as much as he loathed text talk. Groaning, he saved his progress and then closed down his laptop, moving to grab another cup of coffee and a bagel from his kitchen. Whenever he was stuck like this Luc found that it was a good time to go for a long walk around the city, taking in some of the sights and catching glimpses of some of the people around him. They were what sparked his imagination, after all.

Changing into something a little less “lounging around the apartment”, Lucien pocketed his keys, wallet and phone and then stepped away from his block, merging with the chaotic flow of foot traffic on the sidewalk. He had no final destination in mind, no real place to head towards so he just turned and crossed at random. It wasn’t wholly uncommon for him to do something like this and end up in the middle of a place he had never seen before with no idea what direction his apartment was in. He just took in the sights and the sounds, his mind relaxing and appreciating the rushed world around him. Today his feet took him to Fifth Avenue, which was sort of perfect for what he was looking for in his block. He was just meandering down that way when he spied the accident waiting to happen; a splattered smoothie and the cup it had been in. It was only a matter of time before someone would slip on the gloopy mess and his dark eyes caught it seconds from it happening. Reaching out he grabbed the arm of the young woman and gently pulled her around the disaster mostly hidden by the legs of everyone else parading up and down the street. “Careful there.” He said, gesturing to the spilt, summery concoction so that he didn’t seem like a crazy man grabbing people on the streets.

• • •

TAGGED! Open!
WORDS! 568!
OUTFIT! Sharp Dressed Man!
LYRICS! Pitter-Pat - - - Erin McCarley
NOTES! <3

[Deleted]

Lucien Carlisle Pendry)

Katrina blew a huff of a breath in frustration as she flopped back onto her couch. Scowling at the screen that showed the results of her hard work on Just Dance. Childish probably for a 21 year old but she was a dancer through and through. She couldn't pass up the opportunity to dance! Even if it were some wii game!
But her results weren't as good as she had hoped with her already worn out body from her daily dancing routine and work out. Tired and in need of fresh air the blonde changes into a cute red dress with a black belt and cowgirl boots before grabbing a light jacket and her bag. Heading from her apartment down to the busy NY street.
Her big eyes popping out from the smoky eyeshadow she dined so casually scanned the streets up ahead. She looked up at the tall NY buildings not seeing where she was going. Until someone grabbed her arm an yanked her away.
Yelping in surprise she looked first at the mess that was infront of her that she would have slipped on and then to her rescuer. "Oh um yeah thank you for that. Guess I wasn't watching where I was going." She chuckled lightly and gave Lecien a smile of gratitude.

[Lucien Carlisle Pendry]

Lucien could blend in easily with a crowd. He made an excellent skill of it after all these years. What those crowds had never cottoned onto was that he watched them with great intent. His dark eyes took in every little detail, his mind memorising all the quirks and the habits of the people he saw. So many of them made it into his work. Lucien's novels were filled with characters based on people he met or saw on a semi-regular basis. They would never know of course, since he never made it obvious, but they were there on the pages of his work, destined to live on in the text long after they were gone from the earth. He liked the secrecy of it all, just liked he enjoyed not knowing if those same strangers read his work or not. They could be the reason there was a roof over his head, a publisher demanding more books from him, but Lucien never wanted to know the specifics of his fanbase. The air of mystery was enthralling to him and he liked the enigma of life to continue, to follow him around much like his own shadow.

His students could explain just as much. As a professor he could teach them well enough, but if they tried to get him to divulge anything personal, or reveal any of his own writing secrets they may as well have asked him for a riddle. That was how cryptic his answers usually were for them. He was a confusing creature, especially to his first year classes who were so keen and eager to learn that they didn't expect their professor to be young and somewhat free in his teaching methods. Lucien liked to spend time seeing how well his students could do on their own before he offered them guidance and structure since they often needed different levels of help, or different forms of encouragement. Creative Writing was a tough subject to actually teach, as far as he was concerned. It was a subject of communicating the imagination, expressing feelings in a way that couldn't be logically accepted, but rather emotionally understood. Getting that point across was far more complicated than writing it on a PowerPoint and telling a class to take notes.

“The perks of New York, I suppose.” He said, knowing that trash on the sidewalk was hardly anything new. However he couldn't stand idly by and watch as someone slipped and seriously injured themselves. That wasn't in Lucien's nature, it never had been and it never would be. He had been raised far better than that and the big city with it's bright lights and fancy promises would never change that about him, not even in a million years. “So long as you're alright.” He said, letting go of her and returning his hands back to the depths of his denim clad pockets where he usually confined them.

• • •

TAGGED! @vortex
WORDS! 492!
OUTFIT! Sharp Dressed Man!
LYRICS! Pitter-Pat - - - Erin McCarley
NOTES! <3

[Deleted]

She smiled. "Well I seriously appreciate it! An injury for me would be practically be the end of my career." She shook her head looking down at the spill with a grim smile. "I'm a Dancer so an injury isn't exactly a small thing for someone like me." The blonde commented.

Katrina smiled up at the darker eyed guy. He looked like any other New Yorker the dancer had seen around although she could detect something more intelligent in his gaze. "Um...do you wanna get a cup of coffee or something? On me, consider it like a thank you for earlier. You really don't know how serious it is for me." She smiled

[Lucien Carlisle Pendry]

Lucien knew about injuries all too well. It was one of the unfortunate issues with being epileptic in that the environment wasn't sensitive to his needs, and furniture didn't move out of his way right before he collapsed. Over the years there had been bumps and bruises and broken bones from the times when he had fitted and hit something. As if he didn't feel terrible enough when he came to to begin with, throw in the physical agony of injury and Lucien honestly felt like curling back up in the spot he had roused from. He wasn't a vengeful or violent man to begin with, so he never wished pain or injury on anyone, but after enduring that sort of confusion and agony since he was seven, it was one of the few things he would never ever think about bestowing on another human being. It was different since living in New York. Back home in Wales there had always been someone around to help him, but now he had lived on his own for several years and coming to and getting in a cab to go to the hospital when it was necessary was an entirely different sensation. Plus, there was the bother of the long distance phone call back home to tell his parents what had happened and then to spend half an hour reassuring them that he was fine and that there was no need for anyone to raid the savings to come out and check on him.

Lucien smiled a small smile and nodded his head. He listened to what she was saying, understanding just how serious a dancer could be. His sister Katarina had given it up when she was seventeen, but until then there had been recitals and shows and countless amounts of screaming down the house when something had gone wrong. Those times he was thankful for the invention of headphones and walkmans, but he remembered the immense pressure she had been under even back then when it was just a hobby she partook in after school a few nights of the week in the village over from Llandrindod Wells. “You're welcome.” He said politely, leaving it at that since there wasn't much more he could say on the matter. The mess would remain on the sidewalk until a street cleaner came by and dealt with it, but Lucien wasn't going to hover and play security guard to protect everyone from the dangers of it. He had places to be, too, and things to get done before the day was out. His next book wasn't going to write itself.

“Coffee would be great.” He said warmly, taking just a brief moment to think about it and to make sure that he had the time to fit it in. Lucien wasn't rushing off anywhere today, but he also didn't want to make it back to his apartment only to discover that he had fallen drastically behind his own schedule. He enjoyed living his life at a slower pace to most in the city, and he did so for a pretty good reason. He didn't want that to change now, not even for a day or two. “Do you have a place in mind?”

• • •

TAGGED! @vortex
WORDS! 546!
OUTFIT! Sharp Dressed Man!
LYRICS! Pitter-Pat - - - Erin McCarley
NOTES! <3

[Deleted]

She smiled brightly at the acceptance of her offer for coffee. "There's a cute diner close by called Hal's diner that has great homemade coffee." She offered nodding down the street in the direction of the diner she had walking about. "It's not too far away on walking distance." She added as she tucked her hands into her jacket pockets.

And with that the blonde led the way through the crowded street. Glancing behind her to see if he was coming. "I'm Katrina by the way!" She smiled. "Katrina Devereux." She introduced herself holding out a hand to shake his in greetings.

The dancer loved making new friends. She was pretty sweet and down to earth and pretty generous. She didn't have many close friends, only a few acquaintance but never sticking to one person to label as a friend despite her friendly attitude. But the dancer enjoyed meeting new people nonetheless even if it were for a day or just an hour or 5 minutes. If she could make their day with a simple smile or a sincere greeting then she was happy. Today was no different for her.

[Lucien Carlisle Pendry]

“I know Hal's.” He said with a quick nod and a small smile. He was a writer, and had probably drank the coffee and tasted the cheesecake in most of New York's diners and cafés. When writer's block set in and deadlines were fast approaching, Lucien worked away from the usual surroundings of his office or his apartment and as cliché as it was the only places with wifi, seating and the sources he needed to push through the toughest times were coffee shops and diners. There was a logical reason behind the stereotype and Lucien disliked having to argue about it. Not that it came up frequently, since he never boasted about his writing career. To most people he spoke about being a professor and left it at that. Only those few who picked up a book with his name on the cover and pieced the puzzled together, later confronting him with questions ever got to find out that he was indeed a published author with five books under his belt currently, a sixth currently seventeen chapters in the works.

He followed at a steady pace, navigated the crowds carefully as always so as not to bump shoulders with anyone else. Too many people acted carelessly on New York sidewalks. That was something Lucien had quickly learnt since moving to the city and it wasn't exactly something he was a fan of. It was probably how that drink had ended up as a slip hazard on the concrete. “Lucien.” He was aware of the typical Welsh roll on the consonant c, but his soft accent hadn't faded in all the years he had been in America. There were rumours from a few of his students that his accent was a reason one or two actually took his class, but it sounded so ridiculous that Lucien couldn't believe it to be true. “Lucien Pendry.” He shook her hand firmly, much like he always did when meeting someone new. It happened often, too, given how many professors came and went at NYU and how many people his agent and publisher expected him to meet within a year. He had a phone and address book full of contacts he could barely remember the faces of, from events he had been at for just a few hours.

He never regretted meeting someone new, but he hated himself when he bumped into them a second time and had to play the game of pretending to remember them until the moment when they finally said something to make the pieces actually fall back into place. Lucien was far too polite a man to actually come out and admit that he forgot where a first encounter took place, so he just played along until the memory came back. It didn't matter to him that technically his epilepsy did toy with his memories slightly and give him a lenient excuse when it came to forgetting such things. To him it just wasn't a card he could play whenever it was convenient.

• • •

TAGGED! @vortex
WORDS! 510!
OUTFIT! Sharp Dressed Man!
LYRICS! Pitter-Pat - - - Erin McCarley
NOTES! <3

[Deleted]

She beamed and turned back around to continue walking. "A pleasure to meet you Lucien!" She chirped as she continued on her way. "What do you do for a living around here if you don't mind my asking." She said over her shoulder.

It was only fair to know when she mentioned she was a dancer. He hasn't told her his line of work had he? If he had she'd feel incredibly emberessed and stupid for forgetting something like that. But that was just Kat, she often forgot some stuff in her excitement of meeting new people.

She could see the diner up ahead and breathed a sigh of relief. Despite going up here in New York she hates the crowded streets. But that didn't mean she hated NY itself. She was fond of the place just not its large crowds and some unpleasant people she may have encountered on the streets now and then.

[Lucien Carlisle Pendry]

With his hands in his pockets, Lucien walked along. “Hm? Oh, I’m a professor of creative writing at NYU.” He said simply. It was the title on his office door, just beneath his name. He never shared details of his writing career with anyone since that was something he saw as more of a hobby for himself than a way to make money. Teaching his talent though was something quite different. He was modest about it, but happy to talk about it. After all, it wasn’t every day that a Welshman from a tiny village flew in to New York City and settled in to a career of teaching there. Plus, Lucien enjoyed his job, and he welcomed his students into the classroom. Some of them might make the New York Times bestsellers list one day, or go on to pen the greatest Hollywood blockbuster of all time. He never expected a thank you from them when they did, but he liked knowing that he played the tiniest of roles in their lives, even for the briefest of moments.

Hal’s wasn’t too far of a walk from where they had met. The crowds were typical for a New York afternoon, but Lucien was accustomed to them after so long in the city. When he had first moved there it had been pretty intense and it had taken him some time to grow used to the hectic streets. Home was almost the complete opposite. Traffic was non-existent and bumping into someone only ever happened when people were in a manic rush and not looking where they were going. People apologised and made it up with coffee and lunch on Saturday afternoons at the local café, of which there was only one. There was no such thing as city influence in the sleepy village and there were times when Lucien missed that since he had moved to New York City. It was just the sense of community that the big apple lacked. He held the door open for Katrina when they reached the diner, remembering the manners he had been brought up with. Once inside, he settled down at one of the booths by the window, more out of habit than anything else. It was a good spot for when he was observing people, getting the atmosphere just right for his novels.

• • •

TAGGED! @vortex
WORDS! 392!
OUTFIT! Sharp Dressed Man!
LYRICS! Pitter-Pat - - - Erin McCarley
NOTES! <3

[Deleted]

She looked excited to hear his job. "Eh? That's a wonderful job Lucien! I wanted to be a writer when I was a little girl. But all my little books I tried to write where all just more like a journal then anything else." She mused with a chuckle. "I enjoyed writing though as a hobby to pass the time. But dancing is my passion." She looked up at him with a soft smile. "I can tell you really enjoy writing. It's just this twinkle in the eye that gives it away. I guess I see it because I like to look for it. I mean everyone deserves something they love to do don't you think?" She asked.

She paused in her little speech to thank him as they went inside the diner. Sitting down with some menus. She took he jacket off and settled it on the seat beside her. "I'm sorry I'm like babbling over here." She grimaced and shook her head before smiling. "Please say something, I sorta feel like I'm in a one way conversation here." She joked

[Lucien Carlisle Pendry]

Lucien knew he was fortunate to have a career out of something he loved so very much. Not everyone in the world was as lucky. There were those who had to grin and suffer through whatever nine to five job came their way to put food on the table and clothes on their children’s backs. He was one of the few who had been successful in paying the bills with something he loved to do. He didn’t take it for granted and he didn’t believe that others should either. “Journals were what started me off.” He chuckled, his mind thinking to the box of old journals that he kept in the back of his wardrobe. He rarely looked at them now, but from time to time they worked as a source of inspiration for a chapter of his own books, or for a lecture or seminar if the topic was branching towards something of a personal element.

He listened to Katrina speak, a small smile on his face the entire time. It was standard for Lucien when another was talking, but he wasn’t fully aware of it. Chuckling softly, he shook his head and shrugged his jacket off, casting it over the back of the booth. “Sorry, I’m much more of a listener when I’m not standing in the front of a lecture hall.” He said apologetically, resting his forearms on the table as he ordered a plain black coffee when the waitress came to their booth. Lucien had always been something of a quiet guy, even when he was a child. “Don’t worry about it, I just tend to be better at listening that I am at finding things to say.” He could find things to write, but never things to say.

• • •

TAGGED! @vortex
WORDS! 299!
OUTFIT! Sharp Dressed Man!
LYRICS! Pitter-Pat - - - Erin McCarley
NOTES! Sorry it took so long – been super sick/busy! <3

[Deleted]

She ordered a coffee as well with cream before turning to look at Lucien and chuckle. "Seriously? I guess that's part of being a writer. You prefer your brain doing the thinking instead of your mouth." She commented with a small smirk.

"As a writer do you normally get popularity like an actor would? Or Is it sort of just yeah know...normal?" She asked. She had wondered about that. We're writers as famous as any other person on the media? "Oooh do you have any books out as of yet that you'd recommend?" She asked

[Lucien Carlisle Pendry]

It was a simple life that Lucien lived. He didn’t have anyone who needed him to be something else, and his family lived back in Wales, so there wasn’t any hassle of making in home in time for Sunday meals. He flew back for the holidays, his reservations booked for the following weekend and a bag already packed for the long flight back to the United Kingdom and then the train journey back to his own tiny corner of the country. It would be a crazy fortnight with his relatives, probably once again be forced to endure another conversation with his mother about settling down, finding someone who could make him happy. It was like she worried constantly that Lucien would be alone forever, when in actual fact he wasn’t stressed about finding the right woman or man to spend the rest of his life with. It would all come naturally in time, in his opinion. Maybe that was the thought of a writer; one who spent days with his head in the clouds putting fantasy above reality.

Blinking, Lucien shook his head. He was far too modest to promote himself, even talk about himself. “I’m just a professor of the subject. Not some New York Times bestselling author.” He corrected. He hadn’t mentioned being published at all, and unless there was a scheduled event he wasn’t overly keen on talking about his own week. It always made him feel awkward, but that was the result of a kid who just didn’t like being put in the spotlight. He didn’t even publish under his full name, but rather his initials, so in the past when students confronted him to ask if L.C Pendry was in fact the man who stood in front of their class and taught them three days out of seven, he usually found himself suggesting they become a detective. Then again, he suspected there were very few people who shared his name, and the author’s blurb did mention being born in Wales, which also narrowed down the possible penman choices. Still, he was never one to boast about his work or act like Gilderoy Lockheart when he was published again. Everything Lucien did was modest.

He thanked the waitress politely when she brought their drinks over, and sipped at his coffee to test the temperature. “What makes you think I’ve even been published?” He asked. Lucien wasn’t trying to be difficult deliberately. He genuinely struggled to talk about his writing career unless it was a student asking him for starting tips. He could distance himself from it then and act like it was something else. He didn’t know why he had such a tough time dealing with the questions, but Lucien always thought that it had something to do with how he had always kept his writing to himself for such a long time until one day he just bit the bullet and submitted a novel to publishers. They were the first people to ever read, judge, his work and even though someone liked it enough to print thousands of copies of it, Lucien still couldn’t comprehend that other people were reading the words he had written.

• • •

TAGGED! @vortex
WORDS! 534!
OUTFIT! Sharp Dressed Man!
LYRICS! Pitter-Pat - - - Erin McCarley
NOTES! <3

[Deleted]

He's a collage professor? Oh. She looked slightly surprised and gave a sheepish smile. "My apologies Lucien. Normally when people say they are writers I always assume they have something published. It never really crossed my mind that they would be professors or journalists unless they outright say it. She mused shaking her head.

"Anyways; what do you teach in collage? If your a writer are you like an English class teacher or something?" She asked wondering.

Growing up on the streets Katrina didn't have much schooling past the age of 16. She had more important things to think about like how to survive on her own. It wasnt that Kat was dumb or anything. Just certain times the phrase 'dumb blonde' fits her perfectly.

[Lucien Carlisle Pendry]

Lucien’s confidence flourished when he was in front of a lecture hall of students. Those were the people who wanted to listen to what he had to say. It was easier to talk about things openly when people had an interest, showed enthusiasm, and didn’t come across as wanting an easy ride through a semester. It was rare that he ever spoke about his own career or experiences, but Lucien certainly worked hard to make sure that the young minds in his room were never bored. Surprise exercises, thoughts to ponder on for discussion ten minutes later, and nuggets of useful information were usually his tactics to keep them all hanging onto his words and not just straining to get past his soft accent which did, on occasion, flair into something stronger. That usually happened when the syllabus came around to poetry. Nodding his head Lucien smiled. He knew he had already told her about his job and his position briefly, but he didn’t mind repeating it again. “It’s quite alright.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “I teach creative writing at NYU.” As passionate as Lucien was about books, he wasn’t quite at the same level as those in the English Literature department. His office was located in the same area as theirs so he knew that for Bridget and Paisley, books were more than just stories on paper. Those two women practically lived for the written word and he would not like to get into a debate with either of them about literature. No, he was much happier writing it and teaching how to write it. It was a far safer place to be. In his imagination, the seminars for literature students must be like some sort of war zone about characters, themes and Austen versus Bronte. It was all quite ridiculous, which he knew, since he had studied English Literature at the University of Leeds as part of a combined degree before he had decided to hone his craft and gain a Masters in Creative Writing. No one in Leeds had been as passionate about literature as the blonde professors of NYU though.

He thanked the waitress when she brought their drinks over, moving his own closer to his left side before taking a tentative sip to gage the temperature. It was just right for him, which was a little on the hotter side than most people would prefer it. “So, being a dancer must be interesting.”

• • •

TAGGED! @vortex
WORDS! 415!
OUTFIT! Sharp Dressed Man!
LYRICS! Pitter-Pat - - - Erin McCarley
NOTES! <3