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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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 Posted: Sun Oct 09, 2016 10:33 pm
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The rain's end had meant that it was time to resume what he'd been doing before it had become too much, even for him and his weather proof jackets, (truthfully, they were more weather resistant as he'd found out). A day of grey skies might not have been ideal, but it was dry, and the clouds were expected to pass over and no rain was forecasted until that night. It gave Marcus decent hours to go out and look at a few sites that the company wanted him to propose new developments for. Technically, he wasn't even proposing the actual developments, just 'getting a feel for the possibilities'. As in, going and looking and seeing what they had to work with and it it was worth it to keep existing builds or do a total remodel for expanding the look and feel of the buildings. All a bunch of useless drivel as far as the architect was concerned. He designed buildings and made the work for code. Not... give opinions so if it fell though they could blame someone else for a poor investment.
Rubbing his head as he made the drive, he hated jobs like this. Upper management was a pain and so when he saw what he would, he'd have to play the vague game. No decisions from him. Nothing good or bad to say just.. averages. Estimates. Guesses. Opinions. A pain in any field.
The drive came to an end when he reached the metal gates of the old worn down processing facility. Part of the city's industrial sector gentrification. If the plans went forward, the old plant would be gutted, refilled, polished, and presented as hip warehouse style work spaces for any company startups. Rent-able modern offices. Cute in theory, nothing more than money schemes that preyed upon the small upstart companies needing offices.
Car left at the gate, Marcus didn't notice the chain being cut, only that it had fallen, and he'd have to contact the property owner about that. Papers in hand along with his notepad, the dull thud of his boots on pavement was surprisingly quite given the open space. The walk to the building wasn't short, crossing over a parking lot until he finally reached the front doors.
Start.
Notepad flipped open he began to write. Lack of plants growing into the building was good, but the outer area was a hot mess. The parking lot had cracks and weeds by the dozen. It would need to be repaves and repainted. Peering in windows as he walked by, he was too engrossed to hear the hiss in the distance. the rattling of cans. If he had, he might have called out. Experience taught him taggers tended to just flee before confrontation. However his mind was on his work, pen scratching at paper as he looked to damage to the outside walls, to broken windows and possible repairs and design amendments.
As he rounded the corner he didn't expect anyone.
And he certainly did not expect them to react in a manner that would leave him in a state he'd never been in before.
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Posted: Mon Oct 10, 2016 8:12 am
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Vega had a paintbrush in her mouth, and a can in hand while looking at her work so far. She shook the can, finger on the nozzle and just grinned. It felt good to get back to this after the rain washed out any and all attempts to beautify the city.
Dark arms dotted with color moved in wide arches as she continued on, a swooping turn here, straight lines with rounded corners. She was tagging, answering a piece, adding onto it. Someone here was really good and she was constantly answering their calls. She used her left hand, smoothed and mixed some paints together.
A few... interesting tidbits happened during the rain. First of all she saw someone blink to a different location and officially confirmed Other Ashdown. She'd also helped out another homeless person. A girl by the name of Preacher, by letting her curl up inside her van for a night. Then Vega managed to meet the nicest, prettiest boy and had something of a date while she was also over there to use his shower and washer. He'd kept her fed and warm, and then the movies.. Vega was starting to wonder how soon was too soon to go over there and see Zac again.
With her mind, Vega had an idea in her head. So she brought her arm back, held down the nozzle and unfortunately for some guy, he turned the corner as she slung her arm around to make a really quick line on the wall, effectively spray painting the man's clothes.
"Oh. s**t."
Instinct told her to drop the can and run. So she dropped the can and backed up instead.
"Uuuuuh watch where you're going?"
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2016 2:19 am
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Of all the things Marcus had been expecting in his day, getting sprayed by paint was not anywhere on his list. Not on expected things. On possible things. On his likely, maybe, or could happen lists. He had a lot of lists and 'get sprayed and clothes ruined' was not on any other.
Maybe low on the 'I guess it could but the chances are so astronomically low i won't add it to any list at all' list. So getting hit with a line of airborne paint was a tad of a shocker for the man, who's grip on his notepad went from normal to iron fisted in the sudden muscle tensing reaction of surprise.
As the sound of the spray ended, (along with the feeling of paint sticking to his body and adding a distinct wet weight that was definitely not water), Marcus slowly opened his eyes, hoping that the person was not going to try to fight him or spray him again. Knee jerk reactions signaled bad things often enough but that hardly meant that Marcus wasn't to be the victim of them. A peek from one eye, then both. No thugs, no group just a lone tagger- a woman no less. Small miracles he supposed. He'd not like to get involved with any unsavorys.
"Well." He wasn't sure where to start. She must have been hat, a run away? That or a typical rouge artist which while he could respect, he was on the job and was held to a certain standard and would have to paint over whatever she did. The top brass never wanted art on their buildings unless it was big name company sponsored.
"I'm actually here on work miss." Marcus lowered his notepad pulling his top away from his body which felt disgustingly sticky as the paint seeped past fabric.
"...I liked this top." Marcus muttered before looked back up at her. "I was told to come out and do a site survey. And I have a feeling you were not here doing much the same yeah?" Eyes flicked to the paint cans then back to her, a resigned sigh leaving him. He so disliked these survey jobs.
"You an artist or staking a claim?"
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Wed Oct 19, 2016 9:24 pm
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Marcus was not the screaming yell type. Not immediately at any rate. This wasn't other ashdown, and, he had not seen any government types skulking about the area. Still, he was started, and if anything his heart beat was quick to go back to normal as the pieces of what was going on fit into place. Not to mention the stench of paint was something terrible as was the feeling of damn sticky clothing. Blinking as the woman ran her paint covered hand through her hair, (was she simply not worries about it? He would have been. But then white hair was always picking up dyes and colors from pen inks if he got it on his hand. He still remembered the turmeric incident), Marcus rolled his shoulders back again, doing his best to ignore the growing tacky feeling of the spray paint already starting to dry.
"Your-" He looked at the wall, (which was a very nice style of design and color so he did at least give her that credit in his mind), "-studio."
It was not the first time he'd seen street art, and while normally fine? This was a project site. It was going to cost money to cover up, and sadly, construction sites always brought in the taggers and street artists. He got them. Fighting the take over with color and breaking the mold but he was on job. Marcus couldn't let his employer know that he was onto the government.
"I-" She was also bold. Same job but for vastly different reasons. It was funny, and brought a small smirk to his face. He liked her boldness. She had style.
"Well. I could take it off but again. I'm technically working." If his boss came out and saw him shirtless he was very sure he'd get a scolding. This wasn't summer and he wasn't working the site. Shirt and shoes stayed on. But.
But.
She was flirting, and he wasn't blind to it. His mind raced to think of a way to politely shoot her down, (even if he didn't want to), because he was working, (though he knew technically no one else had permission to come out to this site).
She was bold, (she also might have friends nearby ready to jump him). She was breaking the law, (like he did sometimes when he was very sure he had evaded surveillance drones). She had gotten paint on him and his clothes were ruined, (and sticking to him which was gross and he would rather be shirtless even in the cold and he had a spare coat in the trunk of his car).
"Plus I don't know how I could take it off without getting paint all over myself. "It was a fair point. Even if he wanted to, the buttons on his clothes had paint on them. "I have a spare shirt in my car. If I can get out of these without covering myself in paint, I could change out. He blushed because for one thing, he was pretty sure she was flirting, and two, it was sticking to his body and it felt weird and gross and a clean shirt sounded really nice right about now.
"Help me and we'll call it even. I can't work like this at any rate." A clean shirt and he could just quickly wrap this all up and try not to die of embarrassment that he'd have to change shirts in public, (there was no one but them).
[wct: 1476]
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