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Realistic or Modern โ› ๐’‚ ๐’•๐’Š๐’Ž๐’† ๐’•๐’ ๐’Œ๐’Š๐’๐’ โœ

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christy

๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™๐™ฎ ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ๐™š๐™จ
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[div class=hover]
a time to kill
private roleplay b/w vxnilla & christy
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mood.
"so... he's probably not coming."
location.
little italy โ€” italian restaurant in the city.
outfit.
keeping it casual.
interactions.
n/a
tags.
bianca esposito
Almost an hour had passed since Bianca arrived at Little Italy, and her date was still nowhere to be seen.

Usually, she declined to go on dates set up by her friends, mainly because she liked to get to know the guy she was seeing beforehand. It avoided any kind of awkward silences or questionable topics for conversation if she hit it off with them prior to any official outing, and while Bianca was usually able to hit it off with most people, there were still odd moments. Or rather, odd people.

Her friend โ€” or rather, colleague, since Bianca knew Heather only from the office โ€” insisted on getting her a date with another friend of hers, and Bianca was pretty reluctant at first. For starters, she was way too busy. Bianca was sticking by the arrangement she made with her dad to work under him for four years, and that time was nearly up, which meant that he would have to help fund her growing career in the art industry as soon as she was done working for him. Now that she was working her final few weeks as an assistant to her father, she was trying to put everything in place and prepare herself for the future, but because it wouldn't be long before she left the office, Heather insisted on setting her up at least once, so Bianca agreed. She'd never been very good at saying no to friends anyway.

Initially, she'd been quite excited about it. She hadn't been on a date in a while and it was always fun for her, meeting new people. She got his name and number from Heather, and Bianca and her date for the evening, Connor, had agreed to meet at Little Italy at 8 o'clock. The place was just a couple of blocks away from her shoebox of an apartment โ€” since she insisted she get one on her own, instead of using her dad's money for everything โ€” so Bianca had decided to just walk. It hardly took ten minutes, and she was dressed fairly casually since Little Italy wasn't exactly the kind of place A-listers frequented. It was nice, and quaint, and definitely had that 'first date' atmosphere. The only thing that was missing, after sitting there for forty-five minutes, was Bianca's date.

"Ma'am?"

Bianca looked away from the window she was seated next to, to look up at the waiter that stopped by her table. He was looking at her expectantly, and Bianca knew why. She'd been sitting there for so long without ordering anything, and the past two times he stopped by to check on her, she said she was waiting for someone. His expression and her's both made it clear that Connor wasn't showing up. Especially since he failed to respond to the two texts she sent him since arriving. He could have at least had the decency to say he wasn't going to show up.

Sighing, Bianca took a glance at the drink menu before looking back to the waiter. "Okay, I guess I'll have a rum and coke."

The waiter โ€” who was smiling apologetically as though for her benefit โ€” nodded and headed off to get her drink. Bianca, in the mean time, leaned back against her seat with a dejected expression. Oh well. She'd been meaning to try out the food here for a while anyway.
 
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matthieu cessna
location
little italy.
outfit
classy and nonchalant
interactions
bianca
tags
christy christy
โ›
The first thing to do in any new city, as Matthieu had established over a long pattern of relocating and relocating, was to find the best places to eat. He ate out often enough โ€” he could cook decently, but sometimes he had cravings that his pretty average culinary abilities couldn't satisfy. It was a trade-off: his choice of profession meant he had little to no time to learn how to cook well, but it also meant that he had the bank account (or bank accounts โ€” he was no novice) to afford more than McDonald's.

And it lent itself to his job well. People were open and loose-tongued when they were eating, never suspecting that someone next to them could be listening in. He got so much of his information from bars and eateries (cafes, restaurants, what have you) that it would be unwise to not eat out.

Right now, the job was on the backburner until he had more of a feel for the city around him, but he could at the very least scope out the kind of people that'd frequent each establishment. Tonight, it was going to be Little Italy โ€” which was neither "grimy 24-hr fast food" nor "stuffy $300 caviar" and came highly recommended, at least on the websites he'd glanced at. Tonight, it was fairly busy, with a majority of the seats filled, but it was by no means hectic. He appreciated that, not least because that meant he was privy to the plight of the young woman a few tables away. She wasn't across the room (if she were, it'd say something alarming about him that he were paying such close attention), but she was far enough away that he had a hard time making out what she said. He had enough clues to go off of that he could put a picture together, however; it was by no means an alien situation, if unfortunate. For one, the waiter had stopped by a couple of times without coming back with any food. For another, every time he did so, her body language got more despondent and closed off. And she kept checking her phone, as if checking for any messages, and closing it dispiritedly.

And, hey, just because he was an assassin didn't mean he didn't have a heart. It was truly a shitty situation to be put in.

At the same time, he never considered himself a do-gooder โ€” certainly not the kind to go out of his way when the stakes didn't seem very high. But she seemed so sad, and it wasn't like he was going to do anything else, and, again, he wasn't a terrible person. Just morally ambiguous, at times. His eyes slid over to the double doors of the kitchen, which had just swung open to show the girl's waiter with a glass in hand, and he made up his mind.

Timing it so he would make it to her before the waiter did, Matthieu slid into the seat across from her. "God, I'm so sorry," he said, feigning breathlessness to make it more believable โ€” if not for her, then for the waiter. "I definitely misjudged how good with directions I was, which is a pathetic excuse to have kept you waiting for so long. Sorry again, I'll make it up to you."

Go with it, he urged her silently.
โœ
[div class=link]coded by christy.
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mood.
"wait, who areโ€” oh. oh, hi."
location.
little italy
outfit.
keeping it casual.
interactions.
matthieu
tags.
bianca esposito
Once the waiter left, Bianca realised she may as well have asked for a menu for herself. She sure as hell wasn't going to leave any time soon since she ordered a drink, so she should have gotten something to eat along with it. In any case, the waiter was going to come back so she could just ask for a menu then.

Sensing that someone was nearing her table, Bianca looked up, expecting to see a waiter, but instead, she was surprised to see someone sliding into the booth and sitting opposite to her. For a moment, she was at a loss for words.

This definitely wasn't Connor, because she'd texted him about the date and she'd gotten a look at his profile picture. This guy was probably around the same age but that was where the similarities stopped. And even if he was pretending to be her date, when he clearly wasn't, Bianca couldn't overlook the fact that he was quite attractive.

"Uh, youโ€”" She cut herself off from interrupting him once he apologised for being late, because he then launched into an explanation for why he was late. Bianca didn't understand why he was doing this, till the waiter arrived with her drink. Needless to say, he didn't look as apologetic as before, because now it didn't look like she'd been stood up.

Understanding what the guy was playing at, Bianca decided to play along. There was no harm in doing so, right? Even if this was a scene right out of a movie, and not something she ever imagined happening to her.

"Uh, it's fine," she said to him, allowing a smile to light up her face. "You're here now, that's all that matters." Bianca then looked up to the waiter as he set her drink down on the table. "Can you get us two menus, please?"

The man nodded and headed off to get just that, leaving Bianca alone with the handsome stranger, and allowing her to drop the facade. Well, not entirely. She was still smiling pretty widely, mainly because this whole situation was bizarre.

"Okay, I'll admit, that was fun," she told him with a small chuckle. "But I am curious as to why you did that," she crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward a little, thinking the worst of herself for a moment. "Did it look way too obvious that I was stood up?"
 
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matthieu cessna
location
little italy.
outfit
classy and nonchalant
interactions
bianca
tags
christy christy
โ›
The flash of surprise that blinked across her face was endearing, to say the least. It wasn't like he thought she was really going to look up, see him, and just roll with it, easy as you please, but it was still a breath of fresh air to be reminded that โ€” although he himself may deal in blood money and deceit โ€” many people did not.

He was fairly sure he wasn't imagining the flicker of relief in the waiter's eyes as he approached the table. Matthieu's newfound dinner partner found her feet remarkably quickly, accepting his apology with a smile (and a really lovely smile, at that, because Matthieu may be an assassin but he certainly wasn't blind) before asking for two menus.

After the waiter left, presumably to fulfill their request, she turned back to face Matthieu. Her smile hadn't faded; if anything, it seemed to dazzle even more in its intensity, and he honestly had no idea if he were just more susceptible to this brand of wholesome charm, since everyone else he interacted with carried themselves like weapons, only ever attractive with an unmistakable edge of lethality.

"But I am curious as to why you did that," she said, and though she leaned forward, the self-doubt in her eyes was hard for him to overlook. "Did it look way too obvious that I was stood up?"

He tilted his head to the side. "Only if you were looking," he replied. "And I was certainly looking. But I think that says more about me than it does you, and it definitely says the most about whoever was supposed to be your date." A smile curved his lips, revealing a brief glint of teeth. "But his loss, right?"
โœ
[div class=link]coded by christy.
[/div]
 
mood.
"this is turning out to be better than i expected."
location.
little italy
outfit.
keeping it casual.
interactions.
matthieu
tags.
bianca esposito
Bianca was still trying to piece it together. She had never been a very observant person herself, not unless she was absolutely alone and had nothing to do, in which case people-watching was something she did to pass the time. Otherwise, her mind was usually all over the place, which was the case even before this guy decided to be a sweetheart by sitting down and pretending to be her date so the waiter wouldn't think she was stood up.

When he answered his question โ€” and quite well, too โ€” Bianca's smile widened a bit. Good looking and charming. Maybe this was how the night was supposed to go all along? Bianca certainly wasn't complaining. And he didn't seem to be here with anyone else, or he wouldn't have slid into her booth, which made her feel better about the whole situation, because that way she wasn't keeping him from anyone or anything, except his own meal, if he ordered something right before jumping into action.

Bianca glanced down at her hands for a moment, a bit of a sheepish smile on her face, before she looked up again to meet the guy's gaze. "Well, thank you," she told him. "I'm pretty sure the waiter looked like he wanted to cry for me," she chuckled softly.

Bianca stopped speaking, momentarily, only because that very same waiter came back with two menu cards and placed them down on the table, one in front of each of them, and Bianca thanked him before being rewarded with a smile as the waiter took off to tend to other customers.

Instead of looking at the menu, she looked to the man before her, trying to decide if he intended to stay or not. "If you're going to be my date for the evening, I should know your name," Bianca pointed out with a grin. "I'm Bianca, by the way."
 
matthieu alexander cessna.

location. little italy restaurant
outfit. long coat over a turtleneck and jeans, classy and nonchalant
interactions/mentions. bianca
tags. christy christy
It was obvious to Matthieu that his dinner date was still a little taken aback, but she seemed to be taking it in stride, which he found admirable. There weren't many people who could think on their feet and adjust to a situation on the fly. Of course, this wasn't 100% comparable to what the usual stakes were for his unique brand of "adaptation"โ€”a random stranger sitting down at your table wasn't exactly the same as a mission going wrong, but he recognized that his own occupation wasn't a good standard of measurement for anyone.

"I'm pretty sure the waiter looked like he wanted to cry for me," she was saying with a soft laugh, eyes flicking down to he hands, and for the life of him, he couldn't imagine the kind of person who'd stand her up.

He said as much. "Out of anger, maybe," he agreed, "or out of pity for your date. I'd cry too, thinking about what they missed out on." Seeing the waiter approach, he quieted in favor of flashing a quick smile in thanks, flipping open the menu card.

There was a pretty noticeable spring in the waiter's step as he left, which Matthieu noted with amusement before he turned his attention back to his dateโ€”Bianca, she introduced herself as. He nodded, filing it away so he could match her face to a name. Fitting, he decided. Some people's names just belonged to them so naturally that it seemed a wonder he hadn't guessed it before, and Bianca was one of those.

"Matthieu," he responded with a slight smile, "spelled in the most obnoxiously French way you can think of. I lay the blame on my parents." He gestured to the menu, raising it slightly off the table as if to show her. "Do you have any recommendations? I haven't really had Italian before, unless you count frozen TV dinners."

That wasn't true. His job had taken him to all corners of the world, Italy included (you'd think that such a small, harmless country wouldn't have such need for hitmen, wouldn't you?), but a little white lie was far from the worst of his sins.
Run away-ay with me Lost souls in revelry Running wild and running free Two kids you and me And I said hey Living like we're renegades (Hey hey hey) Living like we're renegades (Renegades, renegades) Long live the pioneers Rebels and mutineers Go forth and have no fear Come close and lend an ear And I said hey (Hey hey hey) Living like we're renegades (Hey hey hey) Living like we're renegades (Renegades, renegades) so all hail the underdogs All hail the new kids All hail the outlaws Spielbergs and Kubricks It's our time to make a move It's our time to make amends It's our time to break the rules Let's begin
 

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