capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

WHO: Daken and Selina.
WHERE: An art gallery.
WHEN: Monday night?
WARNINGS: I don't know shit about art galleries
SUMMARY: How not to act upon discovering that someone doesn't remember you.
FORMAT: quick?

[An art show is a good place for an aesthete to pass a little time, both for the show itself and the ever self-conscious Manhattanites. Daken shows up to the gallery in Ferragamo, the sleeves of his jacket pushed up over his tattoo. Two people ask him if he's an artist himself, as a means of icebreaking. One of them looks like an Ivy League boy, with intelligent green eyes and a little too much cologne for Daken's nose.

But under the miasma of that cologne and Chanel No. 5 and paint and wine, between the wandering crowd, there's something familiar, and even as he talks about the art and the city, evading questions he doesn't want to answer, he realizes that he's staring at someone else. She's graceful and athletic, distinctive without exoticism. Her back is to him. He watches her for a second before excusing himself from his conversation.

The closer he gets, the surer he is that it's her. She came back to the City without bothering to tell him. But how typically Selina: she had mastered casual disinterest, like a cat flicks its tail and looks away, knowing it's being watched.

He comes up behind her.]

Weren't you going to say hello?

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[ Selina has had no trouble adapting to the nightlife of this new city. It's almost as if she never left Gotham. Same sorts of people, same sorts of art, and well, the money is certainly the same. She's here tonight to case the exhibit, with her eye on a few pieces in particular. The walls of her new apartment are far too bare for her liking.

She's engaged in a conversation about a French artist she's never even heard of, champagne gripped loosely in one gloved hand, when Daken approaches. She apologizes to her conversational partner (though she had barely been paying attention to him), turning to Daken instead. ]

How rude of me. [ Her expression is evaluating, gaze flicking over him, taking in as much information as she can. She tips her glass towards him slightly. ] Good evening.

[It sure was hell isn't what he was expecting. A coy smile at best, a cold oh it's you at worst (and he certainly deserves that)--but not this, somewhere between the two; oddly distant. He doesn't know what to do with this.

So he smiles, after a second.]

It is now. When did you get back?

Edited 2012-07-23 04:38 (UTC)

[ She shrugs, casual and almost disinterested, taking a sip from her glass. ]

Oh, a month ago? [ This is actually the first time she's thought about it. ] I've been busy.

[He gives her a knowing smirk.]

I can imagine. Did you get your cats back?

[Or was it cat, singular? The facade he wears around Selina might be razor-thin, but it still requires upkeep, and if nothing else, that means at least a polite feigned interest in her cats.]

[ It's interesting, the way they both attempt to play the other. She can sense something off about the interaction, though the falsehood is nothing new. ]

And then some. My assets were well attended.

[A thin smile, an unspoken oh good, and then he's looking out over the room for a second. He can't remember ever having to fish for conversation with Selina, and that's where this is headed.

Time and the fact that he left her on a presumptuous note would do that, perhaps.]

How long were you in Gotham?

Long enough. It was a nice vacation.

[ She hasn't bothered trying to pretend she's the "same" Selina with anyone else, but at the moment, it almost feels like admitting a weakness. And while she isn't even sure who this is, that's not something she wants to do just yet. ]

I'm sure you've been keeping busy.

Is that an accusation?

[He grins, knowing--assuming--that she has some idea of what he's been doing, a somewhat accurate guess.]

I haven't heard from Talia, if you care. [A nearly imperceptible pause.] Or her father. She may be gone. Ra's may just be good at hiding.

Why would it be?

[ There's a hint of a smile, not at the mention of Talia or Ra's themselves but at the information she's gleaned. It's also nice to know that she's been lucky enough to miss them. ]

Good to know. [ She glances away, appearing disinterested. ] Let him stay hidden then.

No.

[It's flat and blunt, a momentary desertion of his pleasant tone.]

If he's here, I'm going to find him.

Edited (OPPS TENSES) 2012-07-31 05:57 (UTC)

Then all the luck in the world to you. [ She smirks against the rim of her glass. ] I'm sure you'll need it.

[For a second he's genuinely injured, and indignation flickers over his features. Why the fuck would he need it? No one's better at finding people who don't want to be found than he is.

But then, of course she'd doubt him, after what he pulled with the apartment fire.

He smiles again.]

You know, if I thought you'd be up for it, I'd make you a bet.

[ Oh she sees that indignation from her prodding, the only response she gives is the slight raise of her brows, as though surprised. ]

Now, now, don't be too hasty. I like a little wager every now and then.

[ Especially if she thinks the odds are in her favor. ]

[Perfect answer.]

Good. If I find Ra's by September first, you have to come out with me one night.

[There's no downside for him, of course; naming all the terms oneself isn't as fun.]

[ It doesn't seem too terrible of a fate. He's attractive enough, interesting enough... she wonders what happened between them previously. ]

And if you don't... [ It's a bit difficult to pick out something appropriate when she doesn't know anything about him. ] Well, I'll keep that a secret.

Deal.

[It's not as if he has a reputation for strict promise-keeping to ruin if her secret turns out to be too much.]

Japanese or French?

French.

[ So far, this seems like a win-win situation, but then she's been wrong before (once or twice). ]

But I wouldn't go making any reservations.