tramitem_log | Paint and Sip

Who: EVERYONE is welcome to join
What: Per this post, Fell is involved in helping a friend organize her charity Paint and Sip style art class, family friendly
When: October 14th afternoon
Where: Manhattan
Warnings: Paint. idk Have fun, don't turn this into a paint war, and we're all good.
OOC Note: It feels a little awkward having this after the droids killed player characters.
I'm behind. I'm so lost and out of things. Also I am on hiatus, so if you want to talk to Fell, please be aware he may not be replying much. Maybe hit me up on plurk if you'd like to discuss a thread that accomplishes a specific thing. Otherwise please use this to mingle and enjoy yourselves because I did not want to NOT do this post if people genuinely wanted to send their characters to it. I think it's a good Non-Bureau way to mingle? I hope?

A charming woman greets everyone as they enter. She's cultivated a certain look: what with her yellow horn-rimmed glasses with a sparkly beaded chain, skirt that is overlaid with tulle, and wildly colorful earrings that are clearly a handmade set but do not match. For that matter, nothing on her really...matches and because of that, it ALL matches. Judging by the crows-feet around her eyes and the gray in her otherwise frizzy dark hair, she's probably near enough to Fell's age. She introduces herself as Miranda Cortez, offers a brochure on the charity they'll be helping today, and thanks you for your contribution. She'll be the instructor and is technically the host.

Fell looks bright and perky in his painting apron. He's alternating between helping with the refreshments (which you may find he's roped a friend or two into helping with), all of which are family-friendly and non-alcoholic, and also making sure everyone finds their seats, has enough supplies, etc.

You'll be painting with acrylics today and she's going to teach you to paint a beautiful autumn scene--if you want to. There are more than enough colors for you to paint whatever you please, while Miranda provides instructions from the front of the class, stepping the majority of the participants through the autumn art, gives some tips on mixing with a palette knife, using the different brushes, and other techniques.

Fell will be around the room, cooing over your good work and providing encouraging words. He'd be happy to help too, if you'd like him to. He may be an art restorer, not an artist himself, but he's still a skilled painter and knows his way around the canvas, no matter how much he may downplay his original art skills.

[[ooc: I was going to make sections, but I think it's probably easier for everyone to make their own top levels? If we want sections, let me know.]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Tart on a saucer?"

He suggested helpfully as he was shooed to the very corner of table but no further until he was able to deposit his offering of roses into Fell's arms. He didn't carry them all this way to miss out on delivering them and he did it with a flourish, leaning in close and grinning devilishly as he whispered a wicked temptation.

"I wouldn't mind some one nibbling away at me if it were you."

He hadn't been certain the flowers were actually for him and not their hostess and he didn't want to presume, of course, but-- Oh! He gathered them in his arms and inhaled deeply at the soft floral scent. Basking in Anthony's smile, he felt like something sublime, something more special than a frumpy old man in a painter's apron and a likely crooked little bow tie.

"Anthony!" he scolded. They were in public. There were children here.
A tart, really. He rather was one, and scrumptious too. But, no.
No. "Later." And one kiss wouldn't hurt; nibbling would have to wait.

"Now how about you join in here? It will be jolly good fun and I think we should have a spare apron and an extra easel if you'd like." Dressed as he was, Anthony was probably playing up the demonic angle of things, so instead of insisting that it was for charity, he tried, "You could be a delinquent, paint whatever you want?"

The hostess was an unfamiliar entity to him, but Anthony made a show of being a wonderful boyfriend while she was watching just in case it might spark some healthy jealousy or encourage Fell to shed more of that dumpy Mr. Rogers facade of his. Anthony loved that crooked bowtie and paint smudged apron but it all looked better with that brilliant white smile and warm peach tinted cheeks.

He accepted the kiss as chaste as one could with a devilishly evil smile that hinted about 'later' and with the kiddies about watching everything with those huge saucer-like eyes of theirs.

"Jolly good fun?"

The words were parroted in a sing-song silly way, gently teasing the phrasing.

"I've never been much of a painter... What if what I want to paint shocks some one?"

Make her jealous? If he'd had any inkling, he'd obviously have to object and scold him, because really you awful creature, must you? Even if it was oddly sweet and played right into his vanity and his love for such wickedness, so he'd have to kiss Anthony some more because he was a ridiculous, silly man loved by a terrible angel.

He wrinkled his nose at the mocking tone and turned to rummage in the bin for another apron.

"You'll keep it PG if you want a 'later.'" Ah ha! Underneath extra bags and drop cloths, an apron was located. Perhaps the cuteness of it would help keep that demonic aura in check. "Otherwise I highly doubt you'll shock anyone. They're children, Anthony. They communicate very frankly and that includes their art. If anything, yours is likely to be boring in comparison."

"That's true," Anthony's head tilted appraisingly as he admired the south end of a north bound angel who was too busy digging around in that jumbled up bin to notice, "Raciest drawings you'll find are scrawled across school desks."

His conviction on that never wavered until he looked at the apron, then at Fell, then back at the apron with his lip curling into an unimpressed snarl...

"Pink with ruffles? Do I look like a pink with ruffles to you?"

"And I'm sure you're guilty of a good number of them," he said, straightening out the frilly apron with a shake so that he could admire it properly. It was a monstrosity; cruel to do to such a handsome and cool creature. He should feel more guilty about doing this after Anthony was so sweet bringing flowers and coming all the way out here. Instead he held it up against the front of Anthony's chest as if checking the sizing and tried not to think about how absolutely devastatingly handsome he would be in a regular painter's apron or smock, sleeves rolled up, a daub of paint on his chin--

Just thwarting his wiles, really.

"Well--it's all we have," he offered as a sort of apology, smoothing the frilly pinafore out over that nice red shirt. "I admit it isn't your color, but I would hate to for you ruin your nice clothes before I've had a chance at ruining them."

"I admit to having quite the artistic lean back in those days. I was sent to the Headmaster's office regularly for it."

His head lolled to the side, the defeated last grumble of one who knew he was going to end up wearing pink frills and a brightly smiling white bunny. Anything to see Aziraphale spoiled absolutely rotten! Anthony shrugged his shoulder, working to free his arm of his leather jacket but not moving so quickly as to force Fell's hands from his chest. He couldn't be ruined in front of kids either but there was no reason to hurry their parting.

"I'll need a paintbrush too, maybe some one to show me how to use it?"

Aziraphale gave him a Look which he hoped conveyed his amused annoyance: yes, I'm sure you drew such lovely little phalluses my dear, but now is not the time or place.

He had won, he knew he had, but that grumble was Aziraphale's victory fanfare. He gave Anthony another chaste kiss just for indulging him. Then, reassured the apron would fit, and that he hadn't rumpled Anthony too much (a little straightening of his collar helped), he draped the apron over his arm.

"I think we can manage that. Here, allow me," he added, offering help with the jacket.

Aziraphale could say so much with his eyes. There was never a wrinkle, evil thought or crease that could withstand the cheeky withering glare of an angel or his nimble fingers. Anthony relaxed under the touch, allowing his jacket to be removed and that horrible pink apron to take its place. He didn't even bother to squeak when the pinny was tied around his waist, presumably in a bow as these things usually were.

"Do I need to toss some money at some one? Hundred bucks for the art lesson?"

Paint and Sip

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