Studio 10 - Upstairs Apartment
The second floor apartment is open, airy and divided into two distinct areas by a floor to ceiling shelving unit. To one side of the shelves is a kitchen and dining area, on the other is a living room with doors which open onto a roof top patio with a hot-tub. The kitchen has stainless steel appliances, and is separated from the dining room by a high bar with three tall stools. The floor is dark red Spanish tile, and the walls are a complimentary egg-shell white. A window behind the sink has pots of herbs for a touch of green. The dining room is done in warm earth tones, with a carpet to match the tile. Abstract paintings decorate one wall. The table, chairs and china cabinet are black lacquer work giving the room an Oriental feel.
The shelf divider holds books, knickknacks and family photographs. The living room is the reverse of the dining room, with off-white carpet and warm, red walls. A black leather sofa, love-seat and recliner are arranged in front of a lacquered black entertainment center holding a flat-screen television, DvD player, stereo and a vast collection of CDs. A matching coffee table provides a place to set drinks, while hanging plants soften the room with touches of green. Impressionist paintings decorate the walls, while floor to ceiling windows and a sliding glass doors allow for natural lighting. Attractive lighting fixtures provide light at night. Outside, the roof is a jungle of plants around a 10-person spa. Attractive chairs are arranged around a glass-topped patio table.
It's literally no longer after sunset than it would take for Michael to head over to the Studio, he heads up the stairs with a large package tucked under one arm and a bottle of Absinthe in the other hand, he's got the expression one who knows him well enough would recognise as thoughtful, yet he still moves the grace to rival a dancer, his motions efficient and focused as he steps through the door to the apartment not putting away the key. He takes a look around hoping to spot Desiree, the cats instantly upon him, seeming as always not sure what to make of the ancient vampire, yet as usual their need for affection wins out and they're soon rubbing against him as he heads in to put down the package.
Desiree has been running errands, and just emerging from a shower and change of clothes. "Is that you, Michael?" she calls from the bedroom, appearing moments later with a smile on her face. A few steps brings her to the vampire's side, and she places a kiss on his cheek … well, just because. "Missed you at the auction last night," she tells him. "I almost went to an oil tycoon. I should pout, too. I was the lowest amount of the evening. Everyone else went for well over a thousand dollars." She makes a pouty face, and then glances down at the package. "Is that for me?" Presents make Desiree happy.
Michael smiles a the kiss, his , his expression a little severe. "Unfortunately business required urgent attention." He sighs a little. "I'd made sure to have several thousand dollars put aside for the evening." He doesn't sound like he's joking. "I suppose it's not in the spirit of the evening, to start your bid with your upper limit? But it seems that most of the men there were idiots. The man who won got an incredible deal." He smiles nodding towards the box. "Yes, it's something I meant to give you before you went to New York." He reaches out to give Desiree a brief hug, as he also places down the Absinthe. "And your Absinthe, Be /very/ careful with it, I'm told it's strong… even for Absinthe. I ask that you only drink it when you're with someone who /isn't/ drinking it? People have been known to do themselves harm chasing the fairy." He smiles a little. "But for now open the package."
Like a child at Christmas, Desiree immediately agrees to everything Michael says about the absinthe. "I promise," she says, her tone sincere enough, but with just enough "gimme, gimme" it's easy to see her entire focus is on the larger package. "I'll be very careful with it, Michael. Even the stuff they sell at Absinthe is enough to … yeah, I won't drink it alone." And then she's taking the package. Moving to the sofa, she sits, unwrapping the plain paper and lifting the lid of the box within. She blinks. Blinks again. "It's … oh, Michael, it's gorgeous!" Fingertips touch the fabric, lightly running over the velvet knap. "I … I don't know what to say. I've never seen anything so lovely. What … where am I supposed to wear it? It looks like an SCA dress or something Medieval— oh! Is this for the Ren Faire?" she asks, lifting the German Renaissance dress from the box to look at it better. "And that can't be /real/ gold thread…?"
Michael nods to Desiree. "To the Renaissance Fair, I suspected you'd want to go, so it seemed perfect." He shrugs his shoulders. "I had to have it made to the measurements used when you were getting your last dress fitted." He smiles as he looks at Desiree. "I think you will look unimaginably stunning in it. And with your love of history I think you will appriciate that it was made by an assoicate of mine who in life made dresses for both Maria of Spain and Anna of Austria." He smiles. "I suspect that you will be the most authentically dressed human there…. That is if you'd been intending to attend?"
The more Michael says, the wider Desiree's eyes grow. Her expression is one of complete surprise and pleasure. "Oh, Michael, you shouldn't have!" She's sincere about that. "I have a costume I was going to wear, but this— " She stops, shaking her head in wonder. "It's magnificent." The blood-red velvet dress is held up against herself as she stands. "I have to try it on," she says, immediately heading toward the bedroom to shuck off her ordinary clothes. "I'll be out in a moment, all right?" And she's gone about ten minutes. When she emerges, it's to be wearing what appears to be a German styled Renaissance gown trimmed in gold, with gold threads forming small diamonds on the fabric. It fits her to a "T," even the length. TIght where it should be tight, loose in the skirt. The sleeves of a black silk chemise peeking through between bands of matching fabric down her arms. "Michael … I'm … it's breath-taking." She stands before him, then curtsies. "I thank thee, M'lord, for such a wonderful gift. May I be worthy of it."
Michael laughs as Desiree rushes off to put on her new dress when she returns he takes a few steps towards her, he reaches out to take her hand kissing it lightly. "You are the most stunningly beautiful woman I've ever met. You have a good appriciation for art, music and history. You are compassionate and brave… or possibly crazy… enough to have run out to save a dog you didn't even know from a woman with a gun. I think it's safe to say there's never been a dress made that's good enough for you." He offers a teasing grin. "If we had more time I would suggest that you take the dress off." He offers what is for him a beaming smile. "Would you care to accompany me to the Faire? Or did you already have an escort?"
The blush on Desiree's cheeks is genuine. "You flatter me, Michael," she says softly, embarrassed. "There're many women more beautiful than I, but the sentiment is appreciated. You really know how to turn my head, you know?" She smiles. She can't help it. "No one's asked me, no, and I'd be proud to have you as my escort. I was planning on going alone, maybe run into some folks I know there. But, your invitation is just too … I would love it if you'd escort me." She looks at the watch on her wrist. "Oh, dear! I … we'd best be getting ready. It's almost time for the feast, and it'll take time to get to the Fairgrounds from here. "I … need to do my face, and find appropriate jewelry, headgear … oh, where did the time go?" She looks at Michael, begging him to excuse her. "Did you bring your garb with you? If so, you can use the boy's room downstairs to change. I'm afraid I'll be occupying the bathroom up here."
Not more than fifteen minutes later, Desiree is ready to go. "I can't wait to see this," she tells a Michael who is wearing his own Renaissance costume. "You look wonderful, and I feel like a princess. This is going to be a fun evening. Shall we, m'lord?" And they did.
