looking for london

[offthebeatenpath]

Commissions were one thing, and Em had gotten comfortable with the process from the initial conversation about what the client wanted all the way through to delivering the final product. She did her best, one piece at a time, and only taking the work when she felt she could do what she'd be promising to do.

This wasn't any different, right? But sitting in her room, staring at her signature at the bottom of a contract to design a London-themed tarot deck, or worse the deposit check they'd given her for supplies and such, she couldn't help feeling like she was in over her head. This wasn't one piece; it was seventy-eight. Seventy-nine if she included a Happy Squirrel, and eighty if you counted a design for the card backs. But it was one piece, all seventy-eight, seventy-nine, eighty paintings being parts of the whole.

She had some ideas, but she needed more. She needed to see London with new eyes. Not only the parts she'd seen and remembered already. She needed to come up with something that wouldn't speak only to her, but to anyone who'd use the deck. The thought of wandering all over London alone to see what she needed to see made her stomach churn even more than the scope of the paintings she'd agreed to do. She didn't think she would be the only one who'd have a problem with that, and she couldn't ask the boys to go with her all the time. And Jag would want to, if the alternative was her going by herself.

Rather than stew (no pun intended) over the problem, she went to the kitchen for some chop vegetables, boil water meditation. By the time she put the tartiflette in the oven, she thought she'd come up with a solution.

The boys and Dutch she talked to in person, but she also sent texts or emails to pretty much everyone in her contact list, asking if they would be interested in helping her with a project. What she was looking for was people willing to show her something of London. Whether that was an iconic landmark or some hidden quirk you really had to look to see. Where they went when they had an afternoon free or a tourist trap with the queues to go with it. Prime nightlife or private retreat.

She got lucky. Not only were friends willing to help, but some introduced her to their friends to expand the circle even more. The messenger back she carried almost everywhere always had a sketchbook or two in it, but in this case, the phone's camera was more helpful. With plenty of reference photos, she could hole up in her room and paint for weeks.

~*~*~*~

"Thanks for helping," she said, not quite meeting their eyes as she smiled with her gratitude. "Everybody has such different ideas about London, I never really know what to expect."



[Open to friends or friends of friends, which should be most characters, I think. If you want to thread and there isn't an obvious connection, hit me up via email or slack and we'll figure something out.

Threads can be anywhere in London your character might take Em. If you need ideas, Visit London and Londonist are good for more obvious things, and Hidden London has more weird, wacky, trivial stuff. Just specify and/or link in your TL, so I know where they are.]

Comments

[prodigalflame]

"So this is Ace Café," John said, looking across the street at the building and its plethora of motorcycles. He wasn't sure if it was modernist or art deco or something - architecture was not his speciality - but it stood out.

He was a bit awkward standing next to Em, honestly. He'd gotten the text and not expected it after their last conversation, sure he'd just been included by mistake. She may have been on good terms with Bobby, but everyone was on good terms with Bobby. And especially since he'd gone back to his old look, it just sort of emphasised the dissonance he felt around her, like some kind of Ghost of Christmas Past That Might Have Been But Wasn't.

"It's basically a 50s style diner, English-style. For bikers." Obviously. "I like it because it reminds me that Britain isn't all people drinking tea, you know? That there's nothing essentially American about diners, or bikers, or rebellion. You want to go in? Food's pretty good."

[offthebeatenpath]

John had gotten a text mostly because it felt wrong to Em sending it to Bobby and not to John. If not for that... she probably would've avoided him, after what Bobby had told her the last time they talked. So here they were.

At a diner for bikers.

Well, she did want different perspectives. This was pretty different from her own.

Food usually made things easier for people. "Sure, we might as well," she agreed, as she took a couple of quick pictures for later reference, not trying yet to associate particular cards with what she saw. That would wait until she had lots of options. "Not that I'm particularly rebellious. Or a biker."

[prodigalflame]

"Biker culture got it's own rituals and scripts, same with rock and roll. Everyone's just trying to fake it and fit in." To John, nothing couldn't be picked apart, broken down, sneered at. Everything was just someone's self-delusions. Even the places he liked he was contemptuous of.

Shaking his head in a small arc, John exhaled loudly, and finally made himself look at Em. He could sense reluctance, lurking under inscrutability. Finding weakness had never been something he'd any trouble with: empathising had always been his problem. And he felt insecure, like a puppy who'd tried performing tricks and found them wanting in the eyes of the audience. "Look. I know it's not much. Everyone was gonna show you London Bridge and Hyde Park, and all that. I love those places, but everyone's got those places. And yeah, they'll make a nicer tarot deck than this joint. You don't have to be here."

[offthebeatenpath]

"It's not that." Yes, Em was reluctant, but she wasn't sure the biggest part of that was something she was ready to talk about with John. But there was one thing he'd said. "'Everyone's just trying to fake it and fit in,' you said, and... I know my limits to fitting in." Fitting in, or better, blending in, being unnoticeable, which she wouldn't be able to do here.

"But I don't want a deck that's all Piccadilly Circus and the Shard. And I asked people to help so it wouldn't all be places I'd know and love myself. This is a good choice, and the more I know about it, the more associations I make, the easier it'll be to figure out how I want it to fit in the deck. You're the one doing me a favor, remember? If anybody doesn't have to be here, it's you."

[prodigalflame]

John shrugged. Em wanting to do the wallflower thing wasn't his problem, and he didn't judge her for it. "Well, don't go in. Or go in, and be like a tourist, or an ethnographer. Gawk at the 50s decor and the weird, wonderful freak show that is the people who go there. It's not like they aren't used to people coming in and taking a lot of photos." Everyone seemed to take photos of everything, these days. Bobby was even taking photos of his food.

Another shrug, a more awkward one. "Helps me get out of the house." He didn't like the notion he was doing her a favour: he was a bit too old school quid pro quo for that. "I'd be rather here than marking, trust me."

[offthebeatenpath]

Sometimes Em could see similarities between John and her Pyro. More often, though, it was the differences that screamed out at her. And sometimes, she just didn't know what to make of him. She wasn't sure which it was that had her mutter softly in French and reach for the door. "Come on. You said the food was good."

[prodigalflame]

John's eyes narrowed a little at the muttering, but then he shrugged. Water off a duck's back. It wasn't like people being frustrated with him was a novelty. Walking inside, he immediately took account of the exits, the counter (beer on tap!), who and what and where. Standard operating procedure.

Settling into a booth that was near enough to the exit to allow him to see anyone coming in or approaching the diner/cafe/whatever, John pulled out his wallet, clearly intending to pay for both of them. There were already menus provided, so he handed one over, before standing: "You want a drink?"

[offthebeatenpath]

John chose the booth Em would've, which really meant the one Dani or Nina would've chosen, and it was still habit to leave him the side with the better sightlines, even though she'd been taking that more herself lately. She focused on the menu rather than pull out her cards the way she wanted to, but glanced up to answer, "Whatever you're having's fine."

[prodigalflame]

There was always something secret about Em that irked John. It wasn't shyness, not exactly, although that was a part of it. He had a bad enough time coping with Bobby's middle-class-ignore-stuff-bullcrap, and though Em didn't drive him to the flashes of scalding anger that Bobby did, there were times he wanted her to fucking express something.

Shaking his head a little, he sauntered to the counter/bar and ordered two half-pints of alcoholic cider. Not everyone had his particular relationship to alcohol, but hey, Em should have spoken up, right? Settling her glass down on the table in front of her, John slid into his seat, and ran fingers through his hair. He could almost feel the blond, as well as the gel in his spikes, a constant reminder.

It wasn't fair to take his bad mood out on Em, though. "Sorry. I'm in a crappy mood. How can I help? I'll focus on that."

[offthebeatenpath]

The cider reminded Em of the Ballnagown; she'd often ordered Angus' cider or perry while there, although he was justified taking pride in all his brews.

"You say crappy mood, and I start wanting to fix it. So okay, something else to focus on. The tarot relies on shared or accessible symbolism to put a lot of meaning into single images. I'm a French woman largely raised in the states and most recently from Scotland, tapped to create a London themed tarot deck, and you said you liked this place because it counters some of the stereotypes of English culture, yeah? So what is it you see here? What stands out? Or how does it make you feel?"

[prodigalflame]

John's eyes widened a little bit, leaning back in his seat as if the idea of fixing made him uncomfortable, arm stretched over the back of the booth.

"I'm not exactly English myself," John responded, his open palm a dismissive gesture. But moving his hips in a little closer in the seat was a sign that he was engaged, at least. "Scottish, if you go far back enough on Mom's side. All I knew about English people was the Beatles and awkward dudes in films and good villains. Lots of stiff upper lip and suits. This isn't that..."

He took another sip, moving in closer, warming to his theme as he looked around. "This is bikers, and booze, and rock, and the 50s, but in ways that were harder than they were back home. No umbrellas or tweed. They know what they wanna be." John shrugged: "I like that."

[offthebeatenpath]

Em listened, genuinely interested in what John was saying and knowing it could help her put her images of the cafe into the context of the tarot. She nodded when he finished, thinking about the road less taken and truths in unexpected places, but her mind kept slipping to other cards: the Tower and the Devil, and the time Lorna asked about the Hanged Man.

She rocked her glass along the table, and couldn't bring herself to look at John when she quietly said, "Bobby told me... about Alcatraz."

[prodigalflame]

A mix of feelings came over John in the moment after those words were said. Defiance at first, resignation, and then a slow, wry affection at Bobby. Because of course he told. And if he told, well, then for the first time, John really started to believe that his fiancé both knew who he was and that it was all good.

"I tried to kill him," John acknowledged, just as quiet, with a bit of a shrug. "...A few days before, I blew up a building because I thought Rogue was in it and I wanted to hurt him. It was a big week."

Taking a sip of his cider, he leaned back in his seat, retreating from her, manner guarded but not hostile. "What do you wanna know, Em? Why I did it? If I was in my right mind?"

[prince_of_nymphs]

Fin was, generally, quite busy these days. When he wasn't busy, he was mostly on some strange and slow downward spiral, fluctuating between burying himself in his work, and losing himself to drink and drugs. This was a favour for a friend though, and he'd spent the morning attempting to find some balance. Skipping breakfast and lunch, and drinking only tea, the practice leaving him hungry, but feeling cleansed.

He had a run coming up at the Palace Theatre, and so that's where he'd offered to meet Em. It worked out well, since it was one of his favourite places in all of London, and a place he was currently free to roam.

Fin was near the side door, speaking with a rather enthusiastic man who seemed to have a million questions, but he politely excused himself when he noticed Em heading his way, offering her a small wave.

[offthebeatenpath]

The theatre was on the opposite side of Cambridge Circus from where Jake was busking this afternoon, but Em still felt easier when she saw Fin, he waved, and she waved back. It was ridiculous, and she needed to get over her frequent twitchiness being in public alone, but she couldn't entirely shake it. At least she wasn't the only one who felt better when she was out with someone she knew – Jag didn't need more reason to worry over her these days.

"I'm not keeping you from anything important, am I?" she asked, glancing toward the man Fin had been talking with before he came to meet her.

[prince_of_nymphs]

"No, not at all," Fin assured her. "Where would you like to start, inside or out?" he asked.

"There's a rehearsal going on right now, but so long as we're quiet near the stage, we're free to roam as you like."

[offthebeatenpath]

"Whatever's easier for you." Fin was doing her a favor; it was the least she could do. "I'm just looking for inspiration, and there's no way of knowing where I'll find it. I just have to hope I'll know it when I see it."

[prince_of_nymphs]

"...Right," Fin replied, scratching his jaw, unsure of what to do. "I suppose we'll start where few get to go then," he decided, opening the side door to take her backstage.

[offthebeatenpath]

"Behind the scenes." Em smiled, letting him lead the way. "Appropriate in a way. The tarot's about seeing what's behind the curtain."

[prince_of_nymphs]

"I must admit, I don't know much about tarot," Fin confessed, leading the way to wardrobe first.

[offthebeatenpath]

"For a lot of people, it's about using archetypes and symbolism, identifying patterns to provide new perspective about one's life. Sort of like a Rorschach or those storytelling pictures. But that's a fairly academic explanation, and doesn't explain people who have a real gift of Sight." Which was hard to explain, even when Em could talk about her mutation freely. "I've been reading the tarot since I was five. I have a hard time not seeing parallels to the cards in the world around me. Designing a deck for other people, though, that's harder."

The theatre world, like the carnival one, had both a public face and the inner life, and Em had never really had a chance to see theatre life. So she was open to whatever Fin showed her. "In some ways, the tarot's like watching a play and understanding all the parts that go into it that aren't actors on the stage playing their roles. If that makes sense?"

[prince_of_nymphs]

Fin nodded a little, letting them in and pushing a rack of large dresses to one side to give them room to walk around.

"I think I can understand that. ...So how does the art effect it all?" he asked.

[offthebeatenpath]

"Art effects people," she answered, not sure exactly what he was asking but hoping what she had to say made some sense. "Like language does. Sophocles isn't Shakespeare isn't Molière isn't Ibsen isn't Williams, if you don't mind me beating the theatre analogy half to death. And some people are going to be drawn more to one kind of art than another.

"For this deck, all the art has something London to it, so what people feel or think about the city or the parts of it in the pictures will... shape their interpretations of the cards. Only maybe with a new perspective." She paused, taking a couple of pictures with her phone, although she wasn't sure herself what details had prompted her to frame them as she did. She'd figure it out later, though.

"Right now, the more I see, the more possibilities I have to play with, to find the right images for the entire journey."

[prince_of_nymphs]

"I see," Fin nodded, understanding the idea, if not fully grasping the concept.

"I imagine most people would just be painting landmarks. Yet you choose to go a very different direction," he noted, and it was an odd thing to say, but he meant it as praise.

[offthebeatenpath]

"Oh, I'll be painting landmarks too." The deck's publisher would probably insist on it, even if Em hadn't planned to include them anyway. "But the tarot's as much about the every and the unexpected as it is the big and life-changing. This is one way to show it."

She laughed, a little embarrassed to admit, "And I wanted to see parts of London I might not think of on my own. I associate tourists with work, so my own sightseeing is usually off the wall."