Preston Forest Shopping Center
The Preston Forest Shopping Center is large and classy. The entrance is open and spacious, a rectangular fountain surrounded by potted trees leading up the middle of the mall, with pathways on either side for shoppers. One can easily see both floors from here and the lighting is amazing - beside the typical electric bulbs, the roof is comprised of glass allowing the sunlight to filter in.
Shops and businesses spread out here both east and west as well as to the back of the mall. Hidden away in the back corner one can find the escalator to the second story, as well as washrooms and a bank of payphones.
The Artist's Den is all abuzz today for some reason, counter help usually found slouching behind the, well, counter, or putting away stock on the shelves are bustling here and there, carrying large rolls of canvas and braces, boxes upon boxes of oil paints, and between fetching items there is much murmuring and whispering, as well as occasional glances down the brushes aisle. Maybe stock is arriving today? Could be. There are only a few customers in the store. The fact that Hugo is the cause of the fuss is not readily apparent. At the moment he's standing with a brush in hand, stroking it back and forth along the the exposed length of his left arm, the sleeve of his black silk shirt rolled up to facilitate the test. But other than the quality of his clothes, he's dressed as casually as anyone else. His shirt isn't even tucked in, for Pete's sake. If he's aware of the glances and whispers, he makes no note of it, simply putting brushes back or selecting them and dropping them into the basket at his feet.
—-
Sunday morning. Time for church and other such religious affairs. The one day that it's almost guaranteed that one can make it into a store at the mall and not have to fight your way through the crowds of people that seem to fill Preston Forest day and night, or at the very least, from opening to closing, and even a few hours before. The oldbies do like to use the enclosed mall to do their walking.
But all of that aside, it's certain the Mignonette was not expecting the place where she comes for both art supplies and a bit of peace and quiet to be so, well…busy. It's a bit of a shock, really. There are people wearing shirts that have the store logo on them that Mignonette has never even seen. And as often as she comes in here, that's saying something.
Still, she's not to be deterred, and with a sweep of her hand to pick one of the baskets near the door, she steps in and starts towards the watercolours. Looks like there's a display for a new brand that's just come in. Surprised? perhaps. It does look like it's only just been set out.
—-
"Oh excuse me," murmurs one of the employees as they swerve in a near miss of colliding into Mignonette with a large box in their arms that they carefully set down with the rest and a soft 'ooof' of effort. "Jesus, what's he trying to do, buy out the whole store?" Walking up toward the front counter, still pondering a brush, Hugo places the basket on the counter and notes, "And these …." his voice a little distracted. Glancing over as Mignonette pauses by the watercolors, he studies her for a moment, a small seductive smile curling his lips as he takes in her figure before his ocean-eyes turn back to the manager behind the counter. "Gold leaf … the real thing, not the stuff in bottles. Do you have any in stock?" The manager blinks and nods, tapping at his computer terminal before murmurs, "Certainly… let me just get it from the back … just a moment…." and off he scurries. Turning, Hugo folds his arms over his chest and rests his ass against the counter, studying the store as if looking for inspiration, more than anything in particular.
—-
"You're excused," comes the accented answer, as Mignonette steps back to allow the rather harried looking young man to get past, even going to far as to turn her basket to the side to avoid catching him as he passes. No one needs that sort of calamity this early in the morning. But, once the road is again clear, she proceeds again, this time, paying a bit more attention to the the comings and goings, even casting her eyes over towards the counter, and the man she picks out as the potential center of this particular tornado. But, beyond a casual glance, she doesn't allow her gaze to linger. After all, there's shopping to be done. It's only a few more steps now, before she makes it to the display, and she gives each of the paints a once over, or at least the colour ranges, before she picks out one of the pamphlets that come with the display, opening it out to read the details of the selection. She does set the basket down by her feet, rather than allowing it to dangle on her arm.
—-
She can probably sense his presence before she actually can see him as Hugo wanders over casually to consider the display that has caught Mignonette's eye, asking mildly, "It's a fairly decent brand, but they have another in the paint section that's better and about the same cost." His fingers are skimming lightly over some handmade paper samples, tracing the elaborate patterns with quiet interest before he glances over to give her a quick smile from behind a stray lock of hair.
—-
Mignonette turns, just as she feels the man walk up behind her, and then comes at least far enough into view that she can look across to him, hands casually folding the pamphlet back into thirds. "You've used them before?" if looks are anything to say about it, the man certainly looks much closer to what a painter, or hell, an artist of any kind might look like than the woman he's now standing besides. "Why do you prefer those to these?" A glance, to the samples he's testing, and then back to his face.
—-
"For one, the pigment is denser. In short, you get more bang for your buck. They also offer a larger variety of colors to work with. The viscosity is also better - much smoother - and the pigment doesn't separate out at all, even after its aged a bit. No unwanted grainy textures." Hugo definitely has artist hair, a little long and bohemian, but he would probably laugh if he could hear Mignonette's thoughts. He turns the display before him a quarter turn to study the layers of papers there. Less interesting because he's quick to turn it again, fingers touching upon a few pieces before he selects them, sliding them off of their rungs and rolling them quickly and efficiently together. "I'll show you, if you like?"
—-
Mignonette listens, attentive as she always is, before she nods, "Well, I'd be glad of it, if you wouldn't mind. I confess, I'm not a professional artist, so I spend most of my time dabbling in this paint and that until I find something that I like." She does pluck one of the small sample tubes off of the display though, before she bends, at the knees, going straight down and up again, rather than bending over, to retrieve the basket, chucking the sample tube inside as her first item. She does cast a glance back to the counter, "All of that for you?"
—-
Chuckling, Hugo nods as he leads the way back, dropping off the rolls of paper, concurring, "And then some. I like to dabble too." As he strolls along, pausing every so often to touch an object here, a container there, he inquires, "Have you tried gouache yet? If not, you should. Even more pigment, more translucent to opaque than transparent to translucent, but oh the richness of it. The fluidity. Very nice for smaller pieces." He taps a shelf marked 'Gouache' for her reference before continuing on to the much large section of watercolors. "This brand," he notes, touching the one with a Pelican for a logo. "It's German - a lot of art stores don't even carry it." Glancing around he adds, "It's one of the reasons I picked this place. They have a decent selection. I was worried that I would have to have everything shipping in from NY. That would have been a pain. I'm itching to start working right away." His eyes meet Mignonette's with a gleam of mischief as Hugo confesses sotto vocce, "I hate waiting. Instant gratification all the way."
—-
Mignonette moves easily, falling into step, even amidst the pause to drop off the next round of purchases, which does bring a bit of a smile to her expression. But, once they head back into the paint section, "I only use it very rarely. Most of my pieces are spur of the moment, and not really intended to be seen, or even remembered, after I put down whatever's come to mind. So I tend to not worry -too- much about what I'm actually using. I've used house paint before, if I haven't been able to find anything else." Still, she does take her time, looking over the selection of new paints she's been brought too. "I always like coming in here for the paper. They have a wonderful 'house brand' as they call it that I simply adore." At Hugo's look and his comment, the woman leans slightly in, though nowhere near enough to no longer be construed as polite, replying in the same fashion, "I rather got that impression just from what I've seen of your shopping habits." And then she returns to straight, "I wonder if they'd allow me to try them, before I buy them."
—-
"That would be … surprising. But you could always start with a single tube and go from there. They also offer a set of smaller tubes, " he notes, pointing it out, "Which is a pretty good deal - cheaper than buying the individual tubes, even if you do get just the standard range of colors." For all his talk of watercolors and gouache, Hugo doesn't add a selection for himself. He smirks a little as she leans in and shrugs, putting on an almost convincing expression of innocence. Almost. Offering his hand he greets, "Hugo."
—-
"From what I can gather, it's a company that does quite a bit of marketing here and works hard to get the store to carry their entire line, likely with some sort of benefit for the owners, and so the store carries it as their go to brand of choice, that they refer everyone to. It just so happens to be a rather good one, in my opinion, but I imagine yours might be different." Mignonette looks away, and does indeed reach for the sampler selection, picking the one in the more pastel range, rather than the primary range, as their are two separate sets of samplers. Once she chucks that in her basket as well, she turns, the smile returning to her face, before she offers a hand as well, the handshake all business, "Mignonette. A pleasure to meet you, Hugo."
—-
She seems to have lost him for a moment there, the brown haired man blinking in mild bemusement before his mind recalls her mentioning some paper product and with a quick grin he explains, "I work primarily on canvas right now. But thanks for the tip. I'll order a roll, see how I like it. High rag content? Cold or hot pressed?" One brow lifts, the corner of his mouth curling in that 'was worth a shot' sort of way before he formally shakes her hand as well, though his eyes linger for a moment upon her lips as she says his name. "Likewise Mignonette." His hand drops away as he takes a step back. "Well, don't let me get in your way. Enjoy your shopping."
—-
"Oh, high. And they do offer both, but, one of their lines is actually what they're calling a soft press, which is halfway between hot and cold. The brand's Fabrian, if you're interested. Might be a nice change from the canvas, if you like." Once she retrieves her hand, she looks about to continue, before he moves, rather abruptly, to depart. But, she seems to take it in stride, and offers a tip of her head, "And i should let you get back to yours. Thank you for the tip. If we happen to run into each other again, I'll let you know how they worked out for me." But then, given that he seems ready to depart, Mignonette does as well, moving on down along the aisle.
