losthunter | Knock unbidden on the door ((Schön))

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Knock unbidden on the door ((Schön))

The evening on which Schön and Hunter had agreed upon a TV marathon to watch 'Twilight Zone' episodes had come very quickly, even though it had been a couple of days since the Spring Fair and the last time they had spoken.

Hunter had a lot of artwork to keep himself occupied in the time between the two events. There were a couple of sketches in his notepad from the evening of the Spring Fair that he had wanted to get on canvas. Some are watercolors. Some are color pencils. Some are using the rose petals, soaked in paint. In all aspects, he had been busy.

During the day, before Schön would arrive at the apartment, Hunter had been quite busy finishing a charcoal piece depicting an elderly couple sharing an intimate, and touching moment. He wrapped that up right before he was expecting Schön, so had to jump in the bathroom quickly to get cleaned and dressed for the evening.

Then he went into the kitchen to bring out the snacks that he had prepared for the evening. There are delights such as cranberry pretzel clusters, brownie batter popcorn, assorted chocolate-dipped fruit (bananas, kiwis and strawberries), and a cheese platter. For a wine choice, Hunter had selected a Wild Vines strawberry white zinfandel.

With everything else in place, Hunter does one more walk-through of his apartment, to make sure everything is prepared for his guest.

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((Forgive me, I was unclear. When I wrote that Schön was "unencumbered by parcels," I meant that he wasn't carrying anything, not that he was carrying things easily.))

Schön smiles pleasantly when Hunter opens the door, brows rising just slightly in surprise at his shirt. That certainly clarifies some of the younger man's aspirations. He wears it well, though, the thin man would be the first to admit.

"Thank you," he answers the invitation, stepping inside and sweeping the hat from his head as he looks around. "You do have a cozy space here, I see. Is the decor your own work?"

[No worries. I had pictured him easily carrying a pile of parcels for some reason. It was a great mental image]

The network of tattoos that cover Hunter's body is of course visible underneath the see-through fabric of the shirt. The most noticeable of all the markings it the heart-shaped one that is placed over where Hunter's heart is located. It appears like the twisting vines of the tattoos weave into the heart, and weave back out to make a continuous flow to other parts of his body.

"Yes. I took great consideration into my choices." There is a small hanging shelf by the door, where one can place their hat and their coat.

((It does make for a nice mental image, true.))

The curse did quite a number on Hunter, but even math has its moments of elegance. Schön takes a moment to set aside his hat before reaching into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and coming out with a DVD case. How did that fit in there? It's much too large and oddly shaped not to have shown--and yet. With that brought out, he slips out of the jacket, taking a moment's care to lay it on the shelf and tucking his cane inside it; he takes special care to see that the jacket's collar is hooked over the cane's handle.

Turning back to Hunter, he smiles again. "Dare I hope for a tour?"

Hunter waits patiently for Schön to get his hat, jacket and cane hung. "Certainly. Right this way."

"We will start with the kitchen, since it is right over here." The small kitchen is located to the left of where Schön had entered the apartment. It contains a fridge, microwave, sink, stove and espresso machine.

"The dining room." Hunter gestures over to the nicely set table, complete with four chairs (but only two table placings for tonight). There is some small floating candles on the table itself. Plus, the assortment of snacks have been placed around the table.

"This door leads into the bathroom," Hunter cross the room, to open the bathroom door, and stepping inside to show the room off too. He has a large vanity mirror and sink. A large jacuzzi tub in one corner, a corner shower tucked away in another corner, and of course the toilet.

"And this door from the bathroom, leads into my bedroom." Hunter once again opens the door, and steps inside his room. He has a large King-sized bed, with the still unnamed painting of his mother hanging over the bed. He has a large wardrobe against the wall, with his washer/dryer combo in a corner. There is a large corner book case in the other corner of the room.

Right by sliding doors back to the living area, there is a large fireplace, with two chairs.

"Over here is my art studio." Hunter steps through the sliding doors into where he keeps all his art and supplies. He has a large corner desk, where there is a few sketches scattered out. An empty canvas is placed on an easel by the desk.

Against the wall is a large cabinet, where Hunter keeps all his supplies. There are two covered canvas set by the cabinet.

"The living room is over here," Hunter cross the room to show the small living room. It has a sectional couch, and a large two-person chair. He has a 48"-inch TV on the wall, and a stereo system attached to the wall. There are a couple of game stations attached to the TV itself.

"And then finally, the balcony," Hunter opens the double-doors to the balcony, stepping out into the fresh air. To the left of the balcony is a hot-tub, and to the right is his rose garden, with trellis filled with rose vines.

Edited 2016-04-06 20:16 (UTC)

Schön makes his way through the apartment with Hunter's guidance, murmuring impressedly over the decor, the art, the spacious area. Occasionally, he trails his fingers over this or that to appreciate the texture. He wonders for a moment why Hunter chose to end the tour on the balcony, until he sees the roses. "Ah," he breathes, drifting toward them, "these are exquisite. More than simply supplies for your art, I take it?"

One can tell that the rose trellis' is built by hand. There is also a few cabinets for gardening supplies.

Hunter smiles, following Schön towards the roses. He nods softly. "I have a deep emotional connection to roses. They were very symbolic during the first year of my curse. And I think... in a way, roses connect me to my mother."

Clearly, a labor of love. "Oh? Would you tell me of the connection?" he asks gently.

Hunter smiles softly. He holds out his arm, with the dead rose bush tattoo. "This used to have a magical life to it. Roses were in bloom in spring and summer. They started to wither in fall and winter."

"And when Lindy first arrived in my home, she didn't want to see me. I felt a little frustrated. But found that by working with my hands on building a little roof-top rose garden just made things feel better."

Hunter has a few different colors in his rose garden. Among the white, yellow and white is a soft peach color. It is where he heads, taking a careful moment to prune one. "I don't remember much of my mother. But the smell of roses... makes me think of her. It is the smell. The colors. The touch of the petals."

"I think she must have been a fine woman, indeed, to carry such associations for you," Schön opines, leaning in toward the roses to savor their scent for a moment. "Alas, that you did not know her better."

"Perhaps it will bloom for you again, one day," he muses, indicating Hunter's arm.

With a deft snip of his pruning sheers, Hunter is able to free a rose from where he is standing. He moves to where Schön stands, and hands it to him with a smile.

"Thanks to Verity, painting my memories of her helped me honor her."

"That was not the only one that had a magical quality. The one over my chest, used to beat like a heart, when I was upset, angry or in pain."

"Moments few and far between," Schön offers, while quite suspecting otherwise. Coming to grips is a difficult thing. He accepts the offered flower with a nod of thanks, holding it to his nose to inhale.

"I cannot say I knew her, but I think your mother would be pleased with the man you are now."

"Thank you. The path has not been an easy one, but I would not change a thing. The challenges along the way have only inspired me to be a stronger me."

"So I have a very important question for you." Hunter smiles softly. There is a playful glint in his eyes.

"Your commissioned work is finished. Would you rather see it now, or wait until later in the evening to reveal the canvas?"

"Such is often the nature of such things," Schön muses. "I am pleased to hear you've come through your adversity so well."

The playful glint catches the thin man's attention, as the fae are ever intrigued by mischief. "Oh, I usually trust the artist to decide when their work will debut. If it were left to me, I should want to see it at once."

Hunter steps closer, so he can lean in and whisper in a teasing tone. "To tell you the truth, I don't think I could wait to show you either."

"This way..." Hunter leads Schön from the balcony, back into the art studio. He heads over to where the two canvas' are covered. With a smile, Hunter lifts the smaller of the two pieces up onto a empty canvas.

He is a little excited, and nervous, all at the same time. With a flourish, he removes the cloth off the canvas, revealing the art piece. The loving elderly couple captured in the piece was completely done with charcoal. Hunter had wanted to keep the finished piece in the soft grays and dark blacks of the charcoal.

Schön follows close on Hunter's heels, noting, "either your enthusiasm is infectious, or mine is."

The removal of the cloth prompts a soft "ah!" Schön grows quiet, then, a hint of a wistful smile lingering about his lips as he soaks up the scene, attention drifting from one detail to another, broadening to appreciate the whole, and focusing again.

"Exquisite. Simply exquisite. The moment almost breathes." Turning to Hunter with a deeply pleased smile, he adds, "thank you. From the bottom of my heart."

"I am glad that you like it." There is a soft blush covering Hunter's face right now.

And because he knows of Schön's fondness of stories. "I spoke to the couple, after I had observed them long enough to make my initial sketches."

"They had met as young lovers. And had their marriage last through the Depression and the Second World War. When he was overseas, he wrote constantly. She still has all his letters."

"They struggled with being childless, but then found ways to share their love with their communities by countless volunteer hours."

"This moment was observed on their 75th wedding anniversary."

Schön makes a quiet sound of awe, listening to the tale. "Cast aside your Tristans and your Juliets, leave Cleopatra in her dust--this is a love that stands the test of time. And you have captured a glimpse of it. Truly, truly beautiful."

"It is always an honor to capture such true emotions."

"Their love was very inspirational. It gave me such hope."

"As well it should. I truly believe there is someone for everyone--part of the reason I don't deal in love potions, that."

"I can't imagine how many times you have to explain why." Hunter shakes his head slightly. He has a feeling that there are many people who would want the 'easy' way of finding love.

"My eyes were really opened to the possibility of finding someone special when Lindy was in my life. Her friendship was wonderful, and the thought of having that with someone in a romantic sense..." Hunter blushes again.

"And now, I have even more great friends in my life who I care about." And yes, he counts Schön as one of those people.

"Mm, so many explanations. And so few people interested in my insulating myself from risk--as if my caution isn't protecting them, as well." He scoffs.

Hunter's latter remarks prompt some musing on the thin man's part. "It can sometimes take a jarring change for us to see what has been plain before us for some time."

"I'm sorry you even have to provide such explanations." Hunter reaches out to place his hand on Schön's arm with this statement.

"Even in my most darkest moments, when I desperately wanted love to free me from the curse... I would have never sought a magical solution to my situation."

His heart is in a much better place now. And he smiles at Schön's musing. "Oh yes. I know that all too well. But I consider my change to be such a good thing. My eyes are more open. And it is... exciting to ponder the possibilities."

"Ironically, I blame the stories--this modern crop of sanitized, hobbled pabulum that nervous parents feed to their precious, delicate children. It leaves people with the idea that magic is the easy answer, and I withhold it only out of petty spite." He tsks, shaking his head, but smiles at Hunter's touch. "It's nice to know someone has an inkling of the truth. Magic couldn't have given you a solution--at least, it couldn't have given you someone to satisfy the terms of the curse."

"You wear your change well, Hunter, for which I am glad."

"In a way, they are telling the wrong stories. They took the easy way out with that too. The true stories had consequences for actions. Not every Prince found true love."

Hunter is enjoying this little discussion. The closeness to the other man feels nice too. And it makes him smile, that Schön's has such positive comments to make. It is just those nice experiences that doesn't even make it seem like there is an awkward pause in their conversation. Even the stillness between comments is enjoyed and appreciated.

"Not quite the wrong stories, I would say, but by washing out the darker parts, they make the struggles sound easy, and the highest reward a return to the status quo, with perhaps a little new wisdom that leaves no marks. And yes," he concedes, "there are many tales that end badly for the heroes. Tsarevich Vassili knew many fine horrors in his day, and the frustration of being Tsarevich Ivan's elder, lesser-known brother."

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