?? seriously, Peaches? The fuck is this stuff? You going to be dippin? out of the game to become Picasso??
Joey took a massive bite from the apple he had been gnawing on since he walked through the door. His posture was careless, even when he tried to stand up a little straighter to lean closer to the large canvas propped on it?s easel. He was mostly skin and bones, but the semi-baggy clothing helped to make him appear larger than he was.
?Doubtful.? She was weighing out a handful of green from the coffee table. Situated on the edge of the couch with her hair helping to hide half of her profile. ?Jus? a hobby, yea??? A white lie; it was more than a hobby. A secret dream that didn?t quite make sense in the world of a girl who went by an alias in all aspects of life.
Joey swayed back and forth on his feet. Interested enough to reach and thumb through a good pile up of leaning canvas?. ?Use a lot of color for these. You got some talent, tell y?that. Probably wouldn?t make out with what you're fucking collecting these days, huh?? He grinned over his shoulder at her before taking another sloppy bite of the apple.
?Not about makin? money, yea?? I said it was a hobby.? A hint of annoyance crept up in her tone but was stuffed back down when she bothered to take a look at him. He had been a long standing client. Another wolf that came to the flaxen-haired lamb for his addictions. Sometimes they all blended together and she wasn?t interested in remembering all their names, but a guy like Joey hung around year after year. Hard to scrub him from the circuit board of her memory bank. ?Sold one on the boardwalk the other day.? She was proud to announce this, even if Joey wouldn?t give her the credit she was looking for.
?Oh, yeah? Neat.? A short reply that bled into a different conversation. He swaggered to the couch to sit next to her, eye balling the plastic baggy she was dropping decent sized nuggets into. ?Don?t be skimpin? on me, girl. Come on.? Reaching a little too close to the goods. He received a quick slap to his knuckles.
?Oi, back off, yea?? You?ll get what you pay for. Always do.? Even though she tried, the act of seeming intimidating fell short on a face like hers. Too much like a cherub, not enough like a hellion. ?This all you comin? by for? Or you lookin? for something a little sweeter?? Codes weren?t needed when in her sanctuary, but she did find it more fun to pretend like they were hiding things from the ghosts in the walls.
?Nah, not today. Tryin? to kick the black, yanno?? Peaches took a side glance to his face; it was shallow, gaunt, a few scars from back alley brawls. She could tell he wasn?t as clean as he was making himself out to be. ?Don?t look at me like that, ok? It?s only been ?? He started counting on his fingers. They were shaking.
?Few hours?? It wasn?t a tease. The truth came in the way Joey snickered and rubbed a hand across his unshaven jaw. She kept on, knowing that if she didn?t push him now, he would be pounding on her door at three in the morning. ?Look, I?ll give y?a little jus? to tie off that jonesin?, yea?? On the house, for bein? such a loyal consumer.?
?This a way to keep me coming back??
?Works every other time, why wouldn?t it now?? They traded smiles. The kind that were familiar to fiends like themselves. Both her hands reached for the large cigar box that served as a treasure chest of small doses.
?Yanno, I got a friend in the art business.? Joey leaned back, leaving his apple core on the table top. ?Maybe I could talk to him, see if he would be interested in buyin? some of your shit?? It was a trade of the unusual kind; a few grams of heroin for a chance at exposing her talents.
?I?ve met your friends before, Joey. Dunno if being in the art business is the same as stealin? shit out of museums and selling them to the highest payin? blue collar.? Though the very thought of having her creativity decorating other people?s walls appealed to the fae-borne. She adjusted to lean back, tossing the baggies into his lap.
?He?s a good cat, Peaches. Really. Ain?t no low life like myself.? Easily tossing himself under the bus, having no qualms about his street rat pedigree.
Peaches lit a cigarette and let some silence infiltrate between their casual conversation. The smoke seemed to wrap like ribbons around her fingers. Reaching around to bracelet her wrist. ?You want to take one with you, to show him?? Surprised at herself to even offer this. It was shadowed by a drift of her hand near her face.
?Sure.? He stole her cigarette with no apology other than the rift-raft drift of a grin. Both bags of narcotics were stuffed into his pockets when he stood up. ?Take any one of them?? Bracing himself for a moment on the back of the couch and taking another look at the pile up of paintings.
?No. Take this one.? Pointing to the one that had just been finished. It?s paint glistened in the gypsy lighting of her abode. The oils and colors almost seemed to move on their own. An effect that some chose to ignore. It was a splotched and violent thing that gave the glimpse of an unfinished face. Dark pigments ranging from red to green, bright twists of sudden yellow.
Joey didn?t hesitate; he moved forward and hefted the thing beneath his arm before beginning to migrate for the door. ?You?ll be hearin? from me, Peaches.? He was out before she could think twice about the whole trade.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v343/apocalypse_queen/Woodland_Woman_by_pixie_queen_zpsc7df53e9.jpg
Joey took a massive bite from the apple he had been gnawing on since he walked through the door. His posture was careless, even when he tried to stand up a little straighter to lean closer to the large canvas propped on it?s easel. He was mostly skin and bones, but the semi-baggy clothing helped to make him appear larger than he was.
?Doubtful.? She was weighing out a handful of green from the coffee table. Situated on the edge of the couch with her hair helping to hide half of her profile. ?Jus? a hobby, yea??? A white lie; it was more than a hobby. A secret dream that didn?t quite make sense in the world of a girl who went by an alias in all aspects of life.
Joey swayed back and forth on his feet. Interested enough to reach and thumb through a good pile up of leaning canvas?. ?Use a lot of color for these. You got some talent, tell y?that. Probably wouldn?t make out with what you're fucking collecting these days, huh?? He grinned over his shoulder at her before taking another sloppy bite of the apple.
?Not about makin? money, yea?? I said it was a hobby.? A hint of annoyance crept up in her tone but was stuffed back down when she bothered to take a look at him. He had been a long standing client. Another wolf that came to the flaxen-haired lamb for his addictions. Sometimes they all blended together and she wasn?t interested in remembering all their names, but a guy like Joey hung around year after year. Hard to scrub him from the circuit board of her memory bank. ?Sold one on the boardwalk the other day.? She was proud to announce this, even if Joey wouldn?t give her the credit she was looking for.
?Oh, yeah? Neat.? A short reply that bled into a different conversation. He swaggered to the couch to sit next to her, eye balling the plastic baggy she was dropping decent sized nuggets into. ?Don?t be skimpin? on me, girl. Come on.? Reaching a little too close to the goods. He received a quick slap to his knuckles.
?Oi, back off, yea?? You?ll get what you pay for. Always do.? Even though she tried, the act of seeming intimidating fell short on a face like hers. Too much like a cherub, not enough like a hellion. ?This all you comin? by for? Or you lookin? for something a little sweeter?? Codes weren?t needed when in her sanctuary, but she did find it more fun to pretend like they were hiding things from the ghosts in the walls.
?Nah, not today. Tryin? to kick the black, yanno?? Peaches took a side glance to his face; it was shallow, gaunt, a few scars from back alley brawls. She could tell he wasn?t as clean as he was making himself out to be. ?Don?t look at me like that, ok? It?s only been ?? He started counting on his fingers. They were shaking.
?Few hours?? It wasn?t a tease. The truth came in the way Joey snickered and rubbed a hand across his unshaven jaw. She kept on, knowing that if she didn?t push him now, he would be pounding on her door at three in the morning. ?Look, I?ll give y?a little jus? to tie off that jonesin?, yea?? On the house, for bein? such a loyal consumer.?
?This a way to keep me coming back??
?Works every other time, why wouldn?t it now?? They traded smiles. The kind that were familiar to fiends like themselves. Both her hands reached for the large cigar box that served as a treasure chest of small doses.
?Yanno, I got a friend in the art business.? Joey leaned back, leaving his apple core on the table top. ?Maybe I could talk to him, see if he would be interested in buyin? some of your shit?? It was a trade of the unusual kind; a few grams of heroin for a chance at exposing her talents.
?I?ve met your friends before, Joey. Dunno if being in the art business is the same as stealin? shit out of museums and selling them to the highest payin? blue collar.? Though the very thought of having her creativity decorating other people?s walls appealed to the fae-borne. She adjusted to lean back, tossing the baggies into his lap.
?He?s a good cat, Peaches. Really. Ain?t no low life like myself.? Easily tossing himself under the bus, having no qualms about his street rat pedigree.
Peaches lit a cigarette and let some silence infiltrate between their casual conversation. The smoke seemed to wrap like ribbons around her fingers. Reaching around to bracelet her wrist. ?You want to take one with you, to show him?? Surprised at herself to even offer this. It was shadowed by a drift of her hand near her face.
?Sure.? He stole her cigarette with no apology other than the rift-raft drift of a grin. Both bags of narcotics were stuffed into his pockets when he stood up. ?Take any one of them?? Bracing himself for a moment on the back of the couch and taking another look at the pile up of paintings.
?No. Take this one.? Pointing to the one that had just been finished. It?s paint glistened in the gypsy lighting of her abode. The oils and colors almost seemed to move on their own. An effect that some chose to ignore. It was a splotched and violent thing that gave the glimpse of an unfinished face. Dark pigments ranging from red to green, bright twists of sudden yellow.
Joey didn?t hesitate; he moved forward and hefted the thing beneath his arm before beginning to migrate for the door. ?You?ll be hearin? from me, Peaches.? He was out before she could think twice about the whole trade.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v343/apocalypse_queen/Woodland_Woman_by_pixie_queen_zpsc7df53e9.jpg