Art appreciation

Who: Angelo and Mina
Where: streets around the Fire Station
When: Late afternoon

Today was a day that Angelo knew he would eventually regret, though that hadn't started just yet. It wouldn't for a while, he figured; any negativity that would come couldn't do so when it was just so gorgeous out, but eventually? He'd want to finally get high, probably right around sundown. For now he was enjoying the sobriety, basking in the warmth of sunlight on his shoulders as he stood in front of the fire station with his easel set on the sidewalk. He'd lugged it and his paint case down here on foot, stopping for a bag of popcorn and a lemonade that both sat nearby now as Angelo wiped his forearm across his brow.

The painting was coming along nicely, he thought; a sprawl of browns that was the firehall itself with stretched blurs of color, capturing the progress of the local firemen as they went about their day. He'd been out here for two hours now, just painting at a leisurely pace, stopping to chat with passerby or even the firemen themselves as they worked what had to be daily maintenance to keep their building running as best they could. With the weather so crisp and warm, it seemed like their work was an extension of the sky itself, a sort of vitality that was contagious, at least as far as Angelo was concerned. Stopping to grab his lemonade and take a drink, Angelo sighed in quiet contentment before he started to mix whites into the brown of the building, trying to capture the revitalizing of the building itself.

Mina had had an early shift at Bedlam, and was off by the time the afternoon was getting into full swing. Being it was such a nice day, she opted to go for a walk. Quite a long walk, as it turned out. She headed into the city proper, and was wandering somewhat aimlessly, venturing past the usual neighborhoods that she would have normally been seen--if she was seen around. It wasn't necessarily her general routine, after all. But today was a day for enjoying, and she just wanted to walk, and see what she could see.

As she turned a corner, she noticed someone out painting. Pausing, she canted her head to the side as she considered the man, the building he was near, and then the fact that yes, he really was just standing on a street side, painting. Deciding to head closer, she looked at the canvas. "Hello." she greeted politely. "That's quite something you're working on, sir."

If it had been a nicer neighborhood, Angelo figured the police probably would've ushered him on by now. But then, if it had been a nicer neighborhood, there would be funds for someone besides the firemen to repair their building. He wouldn't be able to witness real life in that other sort of surrounding, there would be too many pretenses. But here? There was no time for such things, there was hardly even time to truly enjoy the day. "Thank you kindly, miss," Angelo greeted without looking over, coaxing one last stroke of the brush before he wiped his brow again, stepping back and looking Mina's way.

"Felt like it was worth trying to show how, even when we got the bluest of blues for a ceilin'? No breaks in the routine for some of us," he explained with a nod to one fireman busily scrubbing tarnish from one shutter door on the front of the station, "But then, that's life." He grinned earnestly with the statement, hoping that his sweat, grime, and paint streaks over an a-shirt and old slacks wouldn't make this woman think him some kind of vagrant. "Still, I do hope you're counted 'mong the ones who savor the day while it's here."

"I finished work before I opted to go out and savor the day." Mina said, to put in that she too had continued with her own routine before she allowed for other things. People didn't stop being mad just because it was nice outside, after all. "Do you paint often?" she asked. "You're quite good." she noted, stepping closer to take in more detail of the painting itself. She liked it. But then she liked paintings in general.

Carefully, he set both his pallete and brush aside next to the bag with spare paints, reclaiming his drink and shrugging when Mina complimented him. Angelo grinned around the edge of his cup as he looked to the painting with her, trying to decide what was missing, if anything. This could be one that ended half-finished for all he knew. "I do a good deal a'canvases, yeah," Angelo answered finally, "'Cept I'm not so good that I can make my livin' off of 'em, but thank you kindly all the same, miss. I'll count myself lucky that you ventured past an' felt like takin' a peek."

"How much do you usually sell your artwork for?" she asked, looking back towards him. She liked art, and she liked supporting artists, generally speaking. Plus, she could use some new things on her walls. It had been a while since she'd hung up anything that hadn't been given to her by one of the patients at Bedlam. And generally there was a certain disturbing quality to all of those.

There was no chance of hiding his surprise at the question, it was one Angelo had only heard a few times before this after all. He'd never been given a proper show or dealt with a patron or dealer who could advise him about the financial side of things that was otherwise beyond his grasp. "There isn't much 'usually' to it, miss," Angelo confessed with a sheepish grin and a laugh he aimed at his feet, "But the last one? Fifty dollars an' I felt like a thief in the night all the same. Don't think I'd feel right tryin' for it twice, neither." He paused to study Mina thoughtfully, sucking down another gulp of his drink and chewing one of the last ice cubes. "'Course, knowin' the seller's name ought to guarantee some discount," he joked amicably, offering a hand dappled with dry paint, "Angelo Lacoste, an' I'm pleased to meet you, miss..."

She smiled, laughing lightly at the joke, and she reached out to shake his hand, unmindful of the paint on it. "Mina." she introduced herself in turn. "Mina Walker." she continued. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Lacoste." she added. "How many paintings do you have?" she asked. "Do you have a gallery? I must confess, I do have a fondness for paintings in general, and I've not gotten anything new for quite some time. I would be interested in viewing other works, if you were inclined."

Mina... Walker? Was he standing here joking around and shaking hands with a millionaire? One of the select people who literally inherited the city? Suddenly he felt like a fool for saying fifty dollars had been a big deal, even if it still was in Angelo's mind. But if she was one of the Walkers, then it was truly a pittance, and he was feeling more and more aware of his disheveled state by the moment. "I've got a whole slew of 'em, Ms. Walker," Angelo answered, "But no gallery where they's hangin' to be seen. I, well... let's jus' say I'm not one of our dear city's tales of success." He chuckled dryly, shaking his head at himself and wiping hands on his pantlegs to no avail. "But if you was interested, I'd be more'n happy to bring some pieces to you." Since really, he didn't like people he knew seeing his basement-closet of an apartment, let alone strangers, even if they were surprisingly friendly.

Mina considered, watching him as he fidgeted a little. She'd experienced it before, even if she never quite understood why it happened. Her family was influential of course, but she personally was a simple nurse. Then other times she knew exactly why it happened. Today was a day she was more mystified. Perhaps it was the surroundings. "it seems a shame that you've got artwork and it isn't being displayed anywhere." she told him, shaking her head. "Especially considering I think you have real talent. Are you uninterested in a gallery setting? Or has this not happened due to other circumstances?"

Having nothing but popcorn in his stomach was a surprise blessing as Mina kept talking, making her line of questioning more sincere by the moment. It was literally a scenario Angelo thought could only exist in the serials down at the movie theatre, if even there. Even the movies never had a black man finding this kind of luck, at least not that he'd seen yet, but... here he was, there she was. "There ain't much I'd be more interested in than a chance to do a proper show in a proper gallery, miss," Angelo answered with a sureness in his voice, nodding emphatically, "But there's never been no good turn of fortune for me there. I think it'd be most polite to jus' stick to 'other circumstances' instead of speakin' unkind words 'bout other folk in this city, though."

"Of course." she said. Which was also why she hadn't pinpointed the most obvious of cases, which was that he appeared to be dirt poor. "Well, if I could have contact information for you, I could see about a showing." she said. "How many pieces do you have?" she asked. "And how much might you charge for this one, if you're finished with it? If it isn't, I can certainly wait."

She was going to want answers for all of these requests, Angelo knew, but he couldn't quite wrap his mind around everything that was happening. With a buzz in place, he could laugh at the incredible moment he was in and answer all of Mina's questions with a lazy ease. Sober? He had to work at it, face lining in thought as Angelo considered the stack of finished painting in his apartment. "Countin' this one, I got twenty four paintings done up," he answered first, "And I... you serious? You could, would see 'bout a real show? I mean, if you can? I won't think of takin' one thin dime for this, miss Mina."

Contact info, she needed a way to reach him. Working with what he had at hand, Angelo tore a strip of the white popcorn bag free and crouched by his pallete, carefully brushing his phone number across the paper where it sat in his palm. "Don' fold this or nothing for 'bout ten minutes, if you're serious," he added quietly as he commited the numbers to paper.

She took the paper, and looked down at the numbers, smiling. "I'm serious." she told him. "And it would hardly be fair to take something for free." she said, shaking her head. "Twenty some paintings already finished, that's a good amount. I'm sure something can be arranged." she said, nodding to herself as she did so. Yes, she could arrange this. Perhaps she would go visit Maya, and see if she had ideas about where this could be done. She knew better these days about that sort of thing. And she'd not properly seen her in a while, so perhaps it was overdue. She looked at the painting again, then nodded to herself once more. "Yes, I think this should be quite something." she decided.

Nervous or not, Angelo felt even more inspired just from the potential of what Mina was suggesting. It was like the sun had shone down on the city just to draw him out and put him in her path, and he wished he could've seen a way to capture that feeling with his paints. My kingdom a'nothin' for another canvas, he thought, breathing deep and studying the painting he'd been working on. There were still bits of white on the canvas, spots that created a roundish ovoid of actual picture, but if Angelo was judging the painting on his own standards? It worked, it fit this moment and encounter. "And if you insisted on payin', I wouldn't take a cent over... twenty dollars?" Angelo ventured uncertainly, thinking it still sounded high given everything else Mina was suggesting.

Mina laughed lightly. "Honestly I've not paid anything less than a hundred dollars for a painting." she told him. She pulled her purse out of her bag, and looked through it, taking out what cash she had. "I have eighty dollars here, how about we accept that?" she asked.

Eighty dollars was a staggering thing to consider, close to a month's wages earned on his three nights a week at the Kitten Club, and Angelo knew he wasn't doing himself any favors with how he kept gaping in shock. He just couldn't help it. "I don' mean no disrespect, but... seventy?" Angelo insisted, smiling good-naturedly once he worked past his own shock, "Ten less oughta cover taxi fare, since I wouldn't feel right thinkin' you had to carry this all the way where you're goin', not even if it's just down the block."

Mina honestly hadn't even conisdered the taxi fee. In the end she smiled. "Seventy." she agreed, and she counted out the bills for him, handing them over. "Thank you. I have just the spot for this in my home." She told him, thinking it would look nice in the entry way. She was also curious about portraits, but she could ask him about that after she'd seen his artwork up in a gallery setting. Some artists didn't do commissioned work at all, others did every chance they got.

That would be another surprise to contend with if and when Angelo was asked, as he'd never been commissioned for anything. But here and now? He was elated, grinning wide and toothily as he took the money from Mina with a grateful nod and tucked it in a pocket. "There's a great spot down on Gregor Avenue too, few blocks 'fore the Sixth? They do framing on the cheap, jus' in case you wanted this framed," Angelo explained as he gently lifted the painting off the easel, glancing past its' edge at Mina as a revelation hit him: a Walker with a job? "An' pardon me for pryin', 'specially after your generosity, but would you mind terribly if I asked where you was workin' earlier today?"

"Thank you, perhaps I'll look into that." Mina said, though really, if she was going to have it framed, it likely wouldn't be cheaply. It might wind up costing more than she'd paid for the canvas. Still, she said nothing about that, instead smiling when he asked his question. "I wouldn't mind." she told him. "I'm a nurse at the Bedlam Asylum for the Insane."

The cynical side of Angelo, small as it was, suggested that Mina had just explained why she liked his work in the same breath as saying where she worked: she spent all day with the maddest of the mad. But with a natural high making his heart pound like this? He couldn't even hear that little whisper of self-doubt, or its' companion that said a Walker would be insulted for having cheap options suggested to them. "F'real? I... wow, an' I thought I had to deal with some rough types to pay my bills," Angelo noted, chuckling softly, "I used to know a nurse from Eidolon General, but this is pretty different, yeah? So... what's it like?" His curiosity was genuine, not one bit based on thinking of what might come of meeting her. Instead, Angelo was focusing in narrowly on one of his favorite things; meeting someone with a perspective he'd never encountered in any shape.

"Honestly, it's quite difficult to explain in any short terms." Mina admitted. "There are so many different types of people there, and while some fall into specific categories, they're all wholly unique, each with their own cracked lens they shine on the world. It's like working with an entire group of people who you would never meet elsewhere, who you'd never experience the world from where they are. And no one else ever will, either. They're all special, in their own ways." she said.

She made it sound almost idyllic in some sense, so much so that Angelo grinned encouragingly at Mina's description of her work. And he'd never been to Bedlam, for that matter, never seen a literal madman beyond the most ill of the hobos he encountered, but if anyone there was like them? He couldn't help believing that maybe it was eased out at the asylum. "Sounds like even the experience is somethin' you can't find nowhere else," he mused, carefully starting to break down his easel, "I think I'll have to see it some day, p'raps it'll find its' way onto a canvas."

"Some of the patients there like visitors." she told him. "Some even paint." They panted people burning, or eating entrails and other colorful things, but it was still painting. "And there is nothing like it." she agreed. She just also knew it wasn't for everyone. A lot of people really just wanted the mad to stay out of the way--hell even the asylum itself was out of the way of the city as much as it could be. "But I look forward to contacting you again sometime soon." she told him.

"Jus' might find my way out there one a'these days, then," Angelo considered, cleaning off his pallete before covering it in a rag and tucking it away with his paints, "I'm a fan of the singular experiences." The problem there was that he seldom encountered one that was bad in any sense, and if he kept his word and went to Bedlam? He'd be in for a surprise. "An' can I help you get the paintin' to a cab? My chivalry ain't so great that it can't be rebuked, but my momma always tol' me to at least try," he told Mina, grinning, "I figure I'll be bouncin' off the walls waitin' for some kind of word. I mean, I... damn, don't nothin' hit the mark 'cept for thank you, Ms. Walker."

"You're welcome." She said, quite pleased with the whole situation. "And no, I've got it, thank you, though. I'll just be on my way, thank you for the painting. I hope to be speaking with you again soon enough!" she added, turning to head off, carrying her prize with her. Her mind was ticking over gallery openings and shows, and when she'd last done that. It had been quite a while, years, even. Perhaps it was time for a resurgance of the artistic variety in Eidolon City.