BLACK AND GOLD ,

[harlow lorraine golightly]

nothing could compare to the chinese food attainable by taking a stroll down to china town. while there were more distinguished and elegant establishments in the upper portions of manhattan, china town had the most legitimate chinese cuisine, regardless of the hole-in-the-wall appearance. besides, it wasn't like harlow really had any high standards. she might've been raised eating from five-star restuarants, but she had spent nearly the same amount of time trashed at local dive bars and passed out on the floor of other various establishments. her trip down to china town for dinner at her favorite restaurant was much tamer than any other night she would've thought up. while she did have intentions of heading down to paradox after dinner, she was planning to keep it a rather laid-back evening. work the bar counter. serve alcohol rather than drink it down herself.

harlow stepped into the restaurant, pulling her jacket and scarf from her frame and draping it over her arm before moving to find herself a table. she carefully hung her coat on the back of one of the spare chairs and took the seat across the table for herself, crossing her legs and sitting back. she carefully picked up the menu and glanced over it a moment, although she knew the whole thing by heart. after spending her whole life living in manhattan, she had spent countless meals at this particular chinese establishment and the menu had not altered the slightest bit in all those years. those were the little things she counted on. the little things that never really changed. while she was huge fan of change, and was all for trying new things, it was good to have a bit of an anchor, even if it was only a good place to eat.

a smile danced lightly across her face as she spotted a familiar waiter. rather short in comparison to harlow, whom towered over quite a few at a height of 5'10" his face was worn down a bit, he was obviously quite a bit older, but his face lit up with a huge smile at a familiar customer. miss golightly! very good to see you! his english wasn't the best, but still very coherent. "good to see you too," harlow said, chuckling a little bit. she'd been going to the same restaurant for years, and this particular man had worked there for all of them.usual, i expect? he asked, taking the menu carefully from her hands. harlow paused a moment to think before nodding. "yes sir," she said, flashing one of her brilliant smiles. while, she loved having different foods, in a place like this, she found it was much easier to stick to what she knew. it meant no decisions, no searching though a menu, just a nod of her head and a flash of a smile.

she glanced back down to the table as the man hurried back to the kitchen, letting out a small yawn and stretching ever so slightly. there were others in the restaurant but none that particularly interested her enough to really pay much attention to. eating meals alone always was a bit of a bore, but she had gotten used to it. solitude was her thing. she didn't really do relationships and she could only handle so much of being with friends. being alone was nice at times, but times like this in particular, were rather boring. normally, she could keep herself amused by people watching. making up ridiculous stories for people she didn't know, or talking to the random strangers and have a nice small talk conversation. today though, there wasn't much company around. might have been an off hour, but there wasn't really anyone around besides those who worked there and the couple in the corner whom were more intent on devouring their food than exchanging sentiments or words.

harlow had resorted to losing herself in her thoughts until she heard the bell on the door ring as it opened. a waft of cold air sending a shiver down her spine as she looked up to see whom had caused the disturbance. to her surprise, it was actually someone she was quite familiar with. she raised her eyebrows slightly and turned herself to face the person whom had entered the room. "funny seeing you here," she commented, lightly, watching the figure carefully.

tagged , for juno, that whoreface. whichever character she so chooses.
word count , seven hundred and twenty-nine
music , black and gold, sam sparro
notes , sorry, this is shitty. i need to get back in a posting mood. but not too shabby for a starter.

[hector NICODEMUS KOZMA]

The evening had progressed as Hector's evenings typically did – monotonous, dull, boring. He'd returned home from work to make sure everything was in order (it was, as always), and changed his clothes with a certain sort of carelessness. Not necessarily familiar with the boundaries of anything abnormal, he regretted instantly his decision to pry open the stuck-shut windows on his upper-east-side apartment, fingers delicately latched onto the handles of the crank, muscles flexed with the profound effort to finally let some fresh air into the stuffy, small apartment. He'd given up his condo when his girlfriend had moved out, lost the half of the rent she'd agreed to pay in order to 'earn her keep' as she'd put it. Perhaps things were jumbled in his mind, but he couldn't exactly recall distinctive reasons as to why she left. She just had. And he just didn't like talking about it, or so he repeatedly told his sister whenever she felt the urge to ask (all too frequently for his comfort), or one of her obnoxious friends with her sharp tongued, deliberate jibes. He enjoyed the conversation in that perverse, meticulous way of his, but he'd never confess this undeniable amusement to the girl herself. Heavens, no. That would result in only the worst possible ending; perhaps she might return the sentiment. And then what? In an attempt to destroy pleasure on either of their ends, they would terminate the witty banter, ignore each other, and he would again be submersed in that lonely, dark plane where Monday nights meant only reruns of popular Sunday-aired television shows and fourth-gallons of ice cream he'd run off in the morning when he got over the eternal spread of self-pity. He needed another girlfriend. He needed something.

So he prowled the streets, aimless in his endless steps, one after another like he was counting down to something important. Fingers brushed through greying hairs as he brought a cigarette to his mouth, puckered and hungry, and his cheekbones sharpened in profile momentarily before he released the hazy cloud of toxins. Unfiltered. Precise. Pure. Like he liked it.

The sign caught his eye through the unfortunate blurring of his thoughts, neon inviting and warm in a pool of cold, dry thoughts. He fingered the end of his cigarette only momentarily before crushing it under a spotless pair of crocodile leather loafers. A testament to his true mentality, his clothes were just as somber and emotionless as he was. Clean, strong lines characterized blazers and pristine suits, sweaters and creased pants all the way down to the first half of his very expensive, very important looking shoes. He looked respectable, and in many ways, he was. Perhaps that was why when he opened his mouth and strings of insult flowed from between his teeth, there were questionable glances sent every which way. He rather enjoyed the shock and disappointment found distinctly on the faces of his former (Note: former) employees. However much he liked to pet his own ego, there was one constant in his measly life, and that constant was Chinese food. At least three times a week, usually more, his fourth-gallon of ice cream was preceded by copious amounts of rice and various other stereotypical China King delights.

It wasn't until he'd entered that he heard the familiar, quite grating voice; the indicator that his aloneness was finally at a reprieve. How unfortunate, he recalled dutifully thinking to himself, joining her at the table without asking for permission. He figured she'd reject his request anyway, and despite thoughtful musings on the weight of her rejections, he found himself amused already. She had yet to open her mouth and produce anything of vague value, but nevertheless he was satisfied to simply contemplate the possibilities. Still, he couldn't help but retort with the natural elegance that came from absolutely nowhere – he was, after all, quite the pauper. A smirk befell his features, “Oh yes, I've forgotten the rumor circulating that I'm not capable of eating. How strange, it's not true.” a shrug, and then he flagged down a waiter in order to ask for an ice water, and a simple rice and chicken meal that he'd tried once here and never bothered coming back for, “I didn't believe you when you said you live mediocrely.”

[harlow lorraine golightly]

okay, it wasn't really funny running into hector. in fact, it was probably something fairly normal. while she hadn't really expected him to be here of all places, it wasn't a surprise seeing him around manhattan. after all, they did both live there and it was only natural to bump into someone on occasion, right? but this was hector. running into him wasn't exactly pleasant, nor was it terrible. running into hector was an interesting surprise. sure, he was a bitter man most the time, but god did it amuse her. if there was anyone harlow enjoyed poking fun at, it would be him. she sometimes crossed the line and would take things a little too far, but normally it was just a mere annoyance that he could put up with and come back with some of his own witty banter.

she let herself look him over as he took a seat at her table, not really objecting to his company. even his company was better than a boring lunch alone. at least he was entertaining. she leaned lightly against the back of her chair, sitting rather tall. she watched him with an amused smile as he spoke. oh yes, i've forgotten the rumor circulating that I'm not capable of eating. how strange, it's not true. oh, forgive me. i've been spending too much time reading the national inquirer. she said dryly, examining his face a moment. I didn't believe you when you said you live mediocrely. harlow raised her eyebrows suddenly and looked over him. "are you telling me this place isn't glamorous?" she asked, thick with satire. her gaze then moved across the room, looking curiously at her surroundings, despite having been there dozens of times. her eyes settled on him again, once she had looked over the room in it's entirety.

the waiter promptly returned with their drinks, bringing hector his ice water and harlow her coke. she took a sip of her drink before speaking again. "so what brings you out here? aside from a hunger for chinese and the need to stalk me." she asked, a rather serious look across her face as she spoke. she was joking, of course, but aside from the slight smirk dancing across her mouth, she seemed rather serious. though, she was talking to hector after all. ninety percent of their conversations were spent with harlow making sarcastic remarks. it was a fairly odd relationship that the two had. she wouldn't really consider him a friend, but it wasn't like she hated him either. she found him attractive, but it wasn't really like she had a huge interest for him either. he was her best friends brother, and someone incredibly fun to annoy. if anything, harlow was attracted to that fact alone, that he was fun to bother. and unlike most, he actually fought back.

the waiter returned moments later with their food. "thank you," harlow muttered as he placed a plate in front of her. sweet and sour chicken with white rice and an eggroll. just the meal she had been wanting, even if it was only sub-par. she glanced over at his meal, nodding lightly. "good chicken here," she commented as she began her own meal. obviously, she could care less, and obviously, he wouldn't really care what she had to say, but it was something to kill the silence, right? plus, harlow always had to say something about everything. it was just who she was. plus, the little pointless remarks would surely annoy him a little, right? being an annoyance was indeed her main goal after all.

tagged , hector kozma
word count , six hundred
music , none
notes , wow this only took a month XD but anyhow, i have a fever right now so if anything doesn't make sense, i'm sorry. also, this is crap. enjoy XD

[hector NICODEMUS KOZMA]

He gave her an odd, barely amused look that, in reality, meant he was mere seconds away from offering a dry chuckle as means of agreement. “Perhaps you should get a job,” he stated, his voice intoning the fact that she was currently unemployed. To his knowledge, anyway. Some people lived eternally off of their parents money, and Hector.. Hector spent his time learning investments and deals instead of sneaking away to fuck wherever possible. Clearly, it paid off, otherwise he would be eating that gallon of ice cream every day, not just occasionally, and never bothering to run it off. After all, who was attracted to someone who couldn't take care of themselves? With this in mind, he looked over her, noticed a scratch on her neck where she must have mindlessly dug her nails into the skin. A frown creased the corners of his lips, pressing his forehead into a downturned, superficially disappointed expression of frustration and chidingly, he emitted a sort of harsh annoyed sound, “Your hives are acting up, Harlow, dear God, control yourself.” and then, “I know I make you nervous, but could you please remain on your best behavior. We're in public, not in the barn.” and then, like the princess he was at heart, he pulled the paper napkin from beneath the probably-pre-used silverware that had been set alongside his seat, and folded it neatly onto his lap. Even if he did grow up in the slums, he'd always had an affinity for the finer things in life, and refused vehemently to settle for something as common as poor dinner manners. Chinese was no exception to this general rule. Prestige and honor flowed from every pore of his unshaven, refined body.

In response to her glamorous sentiment, he merely lifted an eyebrow, “Oh no, Harlow darling, this is the best I've seen in ages.” as if to punctuate his point, something scurried over the shoe of his foot, and he pressed it into the metal leg of the table with a zeal that surprised even himself. Gone. “I was referring to your outfit.” Suddenly, he ached for a cigarette, and looking at glass of water that had been dropped in front of him only made him yearn more for the ashtray texture upon his tongue. Alas, he was not rewarded for being a good boy, and instead treated to more absolutely endearing slams and remarks by way of Ms. Golightly. Slowly, he brought a hand up to scratch just under his chin, and then to take a sip of the hardly-chilled water. The anticipation for his order to finally arrive was killing him, he had to admit. He'd just endeavored to sip from the rim of the cup when she questioned him, and he immediately drew his lips away from the cheap plastic to stare at her with a certain form of are-you-kidding-me intensity that she must have been familiar with by now. Surely, with questions such as those, she'd encountered the absolutely dumb-founded expression that was written all over his features, “Eating?” he was so shocked into silence by her apparent stupidity that it came out a question, “What do you mean, what am I doing here?” he had recovered by now, rebuking her polite questioning with a snide comment, “I tend to eat at restaurants. Whatever you do while within them is your own business, and maybe someone else's too, for a low fee.”

They set the food down, and he forgot momentarily that he nearly despised her on some occasions, reaching across the table to retrieve the extra fork she'd been given. Frankly, he found it difficult to take her seriously. “Lena tells me you're going to accompany her to the Crillon Ball.” another sip of water. Cigarettes. More water. He'd have to wait.