Strange Names & Guessing Games | 1x1 | RP

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Cassandra realizes that she may have embarrassed Umbra, at least based upon the raven-haired young woman's sudden blush, or more of a redden really, as part of it is probably flushing from the heat of the lights which are angled at them for optimum photo lighting. The young woman decides that she really likes this elusive girl with striking blue eyes and a tendency to blush at rather small compliments and such. With this opinion formed, she smiles slightly down at the girl as she hesitates before giving an answer, a small pause that the percepive model cannot help but notice and note. They have stopped moving at this point, prompting Calcifer to take a few pictures of this stationary moment.

"Greece? It is a lovely place, I've been there before. All the history, the beauty and knowledge in their past, it quite enraptured me at the time," Cassandra responds calmly, but she is surveying Umbra carefully at this point, sensing that something is off based upon a slight emotion in Umbra's eyes that doesn't match sincerity- perhaps uncertainty, or even guilt? It is hard to ascertain for sure, of course, but the modest beauty seems to display some portion of her inner thoughts and emotions fairly openly across her face, making it no difficult task to guess what her current feelings are. The woman wants to press further, ask more about this past that Umbra seems to hesitate about telling, or perhaps may even be hiding, but if it is worth hiding from the beginning, then it would be impolite and tactless to ask more on the subject. Instead, she nods with a serene expression as Umbra describes it as lovely, and brings up the fact that she has no family there, but visits occasionally nonetheless. "Oh, me? Hardly anything interesting, but I was born in Afghanistan, in a small village, but after my grandfather died, when I was ten, we moved to England, so my mother could continue her medical practice without persecution," Cassandra says quietly, "My name is actually Chehra, but my mother called me Cassandra after a women she once knew."

"I met a young man in college with a talent for makeup, and he asked if he could practice on me. A great nuisance at the time, but we still get along," Cassandra adds, a slight twinkle in her eye and a smile pulling at her lips as she admits to this. At this point, Calcifer calls over to them that they can go and change, that this spreads shoot is over now. He thanks them, and then walks up to the pair with a large grin. "You guys were great. Cassandra, make up and dress are ready for you for the Rumplestiltskin shoot."

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Unlike Cassandra, Calcifer is not particularly gifted at reading the pain that crosses over Umbra's face, and thus continues to beam with pride at having found a model who meshed so well with the tall British woman. Most others have slight difficulties because they find her a bit too serious about everything, or instead they find her to simply be too quiet for their tastes. However, he cannot remain oblivious to her discomfort any longer as Umbra looks over at the young man with a displeased expression. Huh? What's wrong? It was going really well, wasn't it? he wonders, thoroughly puzzled by the look on the young woman's face as she looks at him. There is something almost reminiscent in the way she looks at him, but of course the young man doesn't know that. Unlike her, he cannot know the past, being a descendant- not even a reincarnation of some sorts who may have the capacity to recall their former selves. He merely looks at her, ignorant to the cause for the sudden flash of wistful sadness across her face, though he can label it as very old and very lonely. There is an urge to take a picture, and he quietly raises his personal camera and snaps one, before dropping it so that the lanyard strains against his neck, his expression strangely solemn. "Sorry," he whispers, for even the lively young lad cannot be perpetually blissful in ignorance.

"May I go now?" she asks him, voice small and pleading, sending a strange pain through Calcifer's chest with her tone, which seems to match the spark in her clear blue eyes. Cassandra looks between the two and takes a step away, quietly excusing herself before going off to change into the next shoot's wardrobe, leaving the pair alone. Well, alone in that area, for the speed of the photo shoot continues around them, carried on by busy people who focus only on the task at hand, not the photographer and the impromptu model who stand in the middle of a set. "I want to go."

"Oh, I- do you want to stop for lunch first? After the-" Calcifer begins, trying to revamp his normal attitude but being interrupted by Umbra as she speaks once more, eyes watery but tone rather determined.

"Please take me home. . .I can wait until you're done," she adds, basically responding to the apology which the young man had been just about to put into words. For once, Calcifer feels awkward- not a very common experience for the sociable and charming boy. "I'll just...go change."

"Right, of course. Erm- do you want to go to lunch first, though? As payment for the shots? You took some pretty good ones, after all. Oh, the dressing rooms are back there, Danica can lead you back. She can take the makeup off as well, if you like, but it does looks rather pretty," everything comes out in one breath, racing at the same pace as his mind. He feels strangely nervous, but chalks it up to being caused by the strange sadness in her eyes.

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There is a moment of silence, the awkwardness of it felt even by the indomitable Calcifer, before Umbra speaks again, her voice uncertain and her expression equally dubious. It comes after a bitten lip and a minuscule nod, almost unnoticeable. Both of these actions had dampened his mood a bit temporarily, for they hardly appear to be the most enthusiastic of agreements. Perhaps every person isn't jumping through hoops to have lunch with the charming boy with the violet eyes, but most of them tend to be a bit more chipper about the prospect- especially those of the female persuasion. Umbra, however, is different, it seems. Still, when she speaks and smiles, he cannot help but beam back, pleased with her relatively positive response. "Okay. Thank you, Calcifer," she says sweetly, before Danica, in her horn-rimmed glasses and with her professional yet outgoing expression, appears beside Umbra, seemingly out of thin air. The woman always seems to know exactly where she ought to be- a trait that promises to take her to the top one day, if luck also has a hand in it. She's certainly skilled enough to make it in this lucrative but risky business. Calcifer raises his hand for the temporary goodbye, but the young woman is whisked away before he can say anything- a phenomenon in itself (his inability to get a word in, that is.)

The young man smiles and chats with the employees, distracting himself as much as possible, before Cassandra comes back out in the appropriate attire for the next shoot. She gives Calcifer a knowing look, as though she can see straight through his strange eyes, before they set to work. Though he admires her as a model and as a beauty, even Calcifer must admit that the young woman is strange- she seems to give off a vibe of wisdom beyond her years. Like Umbra, Calcifer thinks, before realizing that he is doing it. However, despite only knowing her a day, he understands this to be true by what he has been able to see through a lens. Perhaps that is what makes her so fascinating, though he strangely lacks the same interest in Cassandra. Perhaps it is more than that, then. It is difficult for the young man to say, truly, so he distracts himself with the shoot, whilst Cassandra appears to hold back questions, sticking to her job when curiosity plagues her.

"I like her," she comments finally, even the quiet Cassandra incapable of completely biting back the spilling thoughts. Calcifer's eyes widen slightly, before his expression sinks into a comfortable smile and he nods. While he may seem a player, it isn't really because he likes to play with the hearts of others, or because he means harm. Every new affection, to him, has the potential to evolve further. It just never does, and so he moves on. The warm smile evolves into a goofy grin, "Well, I saw her first," he jokes, wondering if that means anything at all. Suppressing the thoughts, the photographer continues to snap pictures, calling out the occasional direction, or sending someone to move a prop about during it. After a while, the shoot ends and Cassandra returns to the dressing room, while Calcifer waits for Umbra.

He watches those doing odd jobs with little envy, for he remembers when he was an assistant and had to help rearrange sets and such. The position of photographer is much more to his liking, and luckily the young man is considered a rather trendy and desirable photographer to have at a shoot for the moment.

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Calcifer is lost in his thoughts as he pulls out his camera and a small cloth to clean the lens with, a habit he holds when his mind is busy but his hands are not. Before, he had been moving rather quickly, as usual, but now the young man seems shockingly still, expression contemplative and the cleaning rhythmic, almost soothing. Well, not almost soothing- it is a very soothing motion for the photographer, which those who know him well are aware of. This current stillness and calm, a contrast to the chaos all around him as people clean up and such, gives him the chance to really think about the fact that Umbra is something of a mystery, and that it makes him so curious that restraining a flow of questions is rather difficult. Who is she, though? She doesn't speak as though she is from around here, and doesn't act it either. Old-fashioned, born in some rural village south of nowhere? Well, maybe, but somehow I doubt that. She seems well-traveled, after all, and a bit too sad for a person who has spent their entire life surrounded by the same, he muses before looking up, his violet eyes meeting a pair of midnight blue ones.

Instantly snapped out of his thoughtful state, Calcifer's mouth begins to grow into a lovely and cheerful smile as he raises his camera to his eye, another habit of his, before freezing with the view of her which he sees through the lens, though he does not capture the image. There is something in her eyes, something that he is only capable of seeing through the lens, that nearly frightens him, and at the very least sends a chill down the young man's skin, raising goosebumps. He can't place an exact name on the emotion, or whatever it is, hidden among the dark seas of blue, but it is strangely haunting. What? he lowers the camera to face her, letting it hang against his neck now, long enough to hit just above his hips- normally, he keeps it over his shoulder as a woman would a long purse or a messenger bag.

"Is it time for us to leave now, Calcifer?" she asks, the words registering a tiny bit late for the young man, so he speeds up like a video on the internet to catch up to where he should be, instantly jumping to his feet and smiling broadly at her, as though the action can somehow get rid of whatever it was that he had seen in her haunting eyes. His own violet eyes hold flickers of doubt, but he has resolved that he isn't going to allow the young woman to run away just yet, though she seems as jumpy as a fawn, paralyzed temporarily by the headlights, but ready to sprint away in a matter of seconds. One merely has to keep the lights on to keep the deer frozen in place.

"Right, yes, of course! Do you have anywhere in particular you'd like to go to lunch? Or, have you not been here long enough?" he asks cheerfully, guiding her out of the studio and waving goodbye to Danica and the designer.

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This time of day, though it may seem rather dull an uninteresting to others, his certainly Calcifer's favorite. Perhaps the low-hanging sun is covered by clouds, but the underbellies of those clouds glow like celestial bodies, and there is a gentle sort of light washing over the rest of the world that has its own subtle perfection, not as flashy as a sunset, but lovelier all the same. Looking at the sky, Calcifer begins to laugh, realizing his mistake. He must have lost track of the time, having suggested they go out for lunch when it is nearly dusk. "Well, dinner, I suppose," he corrects himself with a wide and genuine smile, quietly pleased with this. After all, it is a universally accepted fact that dinners are more romantic than lunches, and he has found himself wanting to have some sort of romantic connection with the demure woman beside him, though she is not necessarily his usual type. Rather, she seems superior to the sort of women he usually goes for, though the violet-eyed young man cannot place a finger on exactly why that is.

"Yes, I'm afraid I don't know any places. . .but. . .May we go somewhere. . .quiet? Somewhere nice. . .and quiet. I would. . .like that. . ." Umbra requests, even her simplest request sounding carefully phrased, as though she is afraid that he will be somehow offended by the fact that she is trying to put a standard on where they go out to eat together. This is clearly not the case, as his wide smile warms, falling down to a more comfortable smile as he tries to resist the urge to pat her on the head, if only because he doesn't want her to assume that he is treating like her childhood.

"I wouldn't have it any other way!" he declares with some level of grandeur as the young man points towards some unseen horizon with a flourish, grinning ear to ear once more, probably hoping to make her laugh, though of course such a dramatic movement is typical for him regardless. He notices her staring at his eyes, but when he catches hers the young woman blushes and looks away, prompting a slightly confused expression on his face.

"You can look, if you like. That way, I can look at your eyes as well- they look like sapphires," he compliments her, while reassuring the girl. Still, he rather does like the rosy look of a blush on her- it adds color to her pale skin, looking like roses and cream or something else vaguely romantic.

"Come on, I know just the place," he instructs, grabbing her hand and tugging her away.

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Despite the fact that he knows he shouldn't be, Calcifer is quite a bit amused by the deepening of Umbra's blush when she realizes that he has caught her staring at him -his eyes, more specifically. In fact, though he is used to people being mesmerized by his rare violet eyes, the fact that she had been staring makes him the tiniest bit happier than he had been moments ago, and this is seen in the increasing cheer in his already bright expression. His violent eyes have a blithe sparkle in them, a bit of dancing soul behind the lovely irises. He doesn't appear nearly as embarrassed as she is, and that is probably accurate, thanks to a lifetime of attention and other such things. Still, he does feel something slightly warm in his face at the sight of her pretty rose and creams face, though it is unlikely to be revealed in his medium-hued complexion, which is neither tan nor incredibly pale. He certainly does not have the same snow white skin of Umbra, who is a contrast of colors, with coal black hair and pale skin, with large blue eyes to offset the starkness. It's as if she actually is Snow White from the fairy tales, huh? he muses with a playful smile, the corners of his lips seeming to dance a little bit.

She seems the exact opposite of him, so quiet and reserved whereas Calcifer is a charming extrovert of sorts. While she is lost in thought, Calcifer cannot help but find himself staring at her, the tables turned from where they had stood a few moments ago. She has a rather lovely contemplative expression, cool and calm, the emotions of her thoughts in her eyes rather than the twitching of facial muscles or the releasing of sighs. Soon, he is dragging her off to a place he knows, where there is a dock on the beach that one can eat on, or booths in the back for those who prefer even more quiet. It is popular with slightly artsier crowds, but on days such as these tends to be far tamer, providing a relaxing and perhaps slightly intimate atmosphere. The thought of it is pleasing enough to him, and the feeling of her hand tightening around his as he pulls her away only boosts his mood even more, his dancing smile widening once more into a sincere grin, deciding that he rather likes this Umbra girl.

"Thank you, Calcifer," the young man hears her voice from over his shoulder, but it not entirely sure what she is thanking him for. The compliment, perhaps? Taking her out to dinner? Submitting to her request? Whichever of those three options it may be, Calcifer doesn't fully understand her need to express gratitude. Why should one be thanked for observing beauty? Or for indulging their own desires by inviting a beautiful young woman out to dinner? He doesn't quite understand her logic, but accepts it all the same, giving her hand a quick squeeze as the two fall into a walk next to each other, having now reached each other and began towards the cafe which is their intended destination, though she isn't completely aware of that to date, of course. That makes it more interesting, anyways, because then he can see the genuine reaction on her face as Umbra decides whether to like or dislike the cozy establishment.

They head towards a building that looks something like a cottage on the sea, with a deck that holds three wooden tables. The inside of it is a quaint restaurant, though it is the type of thing that tourists may overlook due to its slightly shabby exterior appearance. "Welcome, Umbra, to Nana's," Calcifer says, sweeping his free hand out in an encompassing motion as a girl, perhaps in her mid-teens, with blond hair down to her waist and medium-sized green eyes, comes up to the pair.

"The Deck, then?" she guesses, as Calcifer comes here rather frequently. The young man responds with a grin and a nod, hardly noticing that his hand still holds the smaller, more fragile hand of Umbra. To him, the blonde girl is like a little sister, the granddaughter of Nana's owner who has lived here ever since her entire family both died in a fire. She wears a sweatshirt, but slight burn marks still flaw parts of her arms and a bit on the upper left-hand corner of her face.

The pair are directed to a table outside, where Calcifer pulls out Umbra's chair before going and sitting at his own. "May I suggest their hot chocolate? Simply amazing," he recommends.

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Calcifer watches Umbra's expression intently when he first brings her to Nana's, watching as her expression shifts from slightly confused at having seen the rather unimpressive exterior to warm and pleased when she is brought into the interior of the building, which seems to glow with a cozy atmosphere that is addicting and intoxicating, drawing locals back time and time again. The people who are here all seem to be slightly interesting, for Nana's seems to draw such people, the types who meander towards the part of the beach that tourists avoid due to rocky parts and choppy waters. It brings the wanderers and artists, song writers and readers, thinkers and dreamers, creating an ambiance of creativity and acceptance in the tidbits one catches of hushed debates on philosophical matters and the glances one may steal at sketches on the backs of napkins. In fact, one wall in the back is devoted to such napkin sketches, which littler the wall by way of pushpin, tape, Silly Puddy, and staples.

Another side of the room holds a large bookcase, fondly known by regulars as the Mammoth for its imposing stature and dark brown color, having been made from polished driftwood. The Mammoth has five shelves, the bottom two of which are devoted to books which customers have accidentally left behind. Sometimes those people never came back for them, other times they noticed them on the shelf but never took them back, thinking of it as a donation of sorts. Some are in pristine condition, others have notes scribbled in them not only by previous owners, but by people who wanted to read something, but only were able to read a chapter or two before leaving. Some signed a page, others stayed all day to read it in its entirety, scribbling notes and thoughts on the back. There is only one book which has two copies on that shelf, and that book is A Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, the king of Smartasses. One of the copy has so many notes written in the margins that only a few of them are legible, and the other is perfectly preserved but for a message on the title page in loopy script which reads Do not write on this- I am coming back for it. That particular copy has been on the book shelf for two years, and yet it still remains an unspoken rule that no one so much as underlines a word in the copy, almost a sacred item in the little cafe.

The third shelf somewhat resembles the wall of napkins in that it exhibits the thoughtless art of patrons, although these doodles are on the paper cups in which one receives a hot drink, if they cannot claim ownership to one of the mugs that fill up the crowded fourth shelf. People are permitted to bring their own mug and use it when they come, if they so choose. Most people do, and use them unless they have the strong desire to doodle on a paper cup. The fifth shelf is actually left empty, or at least presumably is. It is too high up for even a rather tall person to see when standing on a chair, and no one has bothered to get on a latter. Some joke that the secret to the universe is written on a note on that top shelf, to go unnoticed for the rest of humanity's existence, until one person finds it just before the sun implodes and the Earth fades away- not with a bang, but with a whimper. This assumes, of course, that Nana's will be around forever. It is a hopeful thought, instilled in one of unfortunate timing.

As they had walked out to the deck, Calcifer lifts his hand or nods in greeting to several familiar faces, though most are absorbed in their own situations. He is smiling, but did not miss the fading frown of Umbra when she noticed the marks on Emily's face. He nudges her slightly in an attempt to snap her out of whatever she is thinking, but fails. When they are sitting, though, she seems to jerk back into reality, blue eyes shining with a sudden revival of clarity and awareness. Her eyes are impossibly deep, Calcifer muses with his warm smile. He always feels at home here, comfortable with the smell of salt and the slight sea breeze. The deck is illuminated with fairy lights, which are draped about, as well as the lanterns on each table. As the sun begins to set, it gives a rather beautiful flickering, though there remains enough illumination to see without straining one's eyes. "O-of course, I'd love to try one," Umbra says finally, attempting a smile but failing miserably as her expression falls once more. Calcifer nearly frowns, but knows that doing so will be of no help.

"I'm sorry. . ." she murmurs softly, looking down at her intertwined hands. Calcifer shakes his head with a smile, and turns his attention to Emily as the young woman comes back again. Though she lost her parents, the young woman seems happy enough, accepting of what has happened, though she had experienced severe depression for a few years following the event. Working at Nana's had helped her to rebuild herself and move on, though she does not forget her parents. She lives in both the past and present- those who forget the past, after all, are fools.

"Can we have two hot chocolates? I'll use my mug, please. We haven't decided on food yet, though," Calcifer realizes, still smiling cheerfully at Emily, who smiles back before nodding and glancing curiously at Umbra, looking confused about the misery on the raven-haired girl's face, before disappearing back inside.

"She doesn't cry over it anymore- neither should you," Calcifer comments softly, though his smile and his gaze towards the sea almost make it seem as though the words came from another person. He looks once more towards Umbra and reaches out to put a comforting hand over hers. "Okay?"

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Calcifer is rather pleasantly surprised to find that Umbra does not immediately draw her hand away from his, as he had assumed that she would. Her hand is somewhat cold, but in a way that is somehow comforting- cool and calm, though her own emotions seem to have a wide range. Of course, from what he has observed so far, mostly from behind the lens of a camera, every emotion she feels still possesses the chilled undertones of sadness and some feeling of oldness. Silly as it seems, she rather reminds him of a character from a TV show, a character who is very old, very kind, and the very last of his people. It is interesting to entertain the notion that she might be as well, but also rather unsettling, for he would not wish that on anyone, that impossible loneliness of being the only. Trying to ignore such thoughts, the young man smiles warmly at her, not intending to remove his hands from hers until she makes a move to slide away. Though she does not seem entirely uncomfortable with their current position, he has come to acknowledge, at this point, that the dark-haired girl before him is a rather shy and modest character, and is easily flustered by what he considers to be tiny things. It is equal parts precious and confusing, only adding to her strange mystique. It is naturally for someone to remain somewhat ambiguous in nature when you have only known them a day, but something about her seems to reach past the normal enigmatic nature of a stranger. This trait kindles great curiosity in his violet eyes, and only makes the naturally inquisitive soul want to delve deeper.

He has a Peter Pan aspect to him that makes Calcifer love adventure and curious things, while still somewhat fearing the consequences of growing up. This adds to the charming part of him, many girls seem to believe. Perhaps this is due to the fact that most people have, whether as children or adults, dreamed of flying off to a world where one never has to grow up. Regardless of his slightly fickle personality, Calcifer presents this sort of alluring warmth and aspect of cheerfulness- the sort who would never intentionally hurt someone without some necessity presenting itself.

Despite the fact that her delay in withdrawing her hand had surprised him, Calcifer is still slightly disappointed when the young woman in front of him pulls her hand away. Still, he doesn't protest, not thinking of it as a very important thing, the slight fall in his expression vanishing quickly to a blithe smile. "I'm not quite sure what to order, Calcifer. Would you. . .order for me?" her words are somewhat unimportant, especially in comparison to the sudden flash of smile across the lovely woman's face, something that he hasn't entirely seen before in her, with its sincerity and lack of effort. Calcifer nods with a shrug, the gesture meant to tell her that she shouldn't be so hesitant to ask something so simple of him. "As you wish," he says with a grin, somewhat expecting her to just understand the reference, though of course she very well may not. Emily returns with the hot chocolate, and he orders them both a shrimp and fish soup, as well as a rather delicious autumn salad, with walnuts and cranberries and the sort in it. While he is consistent in his purchasing of hot chocolate when he comes here, the young man likes to get different orders each time, mixing and matching various things. Besides, Umbra doesn't really seem the burger-and-fries type, so he wants to go with something just a bit classier. Of course, this place is still just a cafe, so there isn't anything too fancy on the menu.

A silence falls between the two after Emily leaves with their order, though Calcifer justifies it by taking a sip of his hot chocolate, still scalding. Strangely, it is Umbra who breaks the silence, something which seems odd, given her rather reserved nature. However, her words seem more nervous than comfortable, and he dislikes this slightly. "Calcifer, why did you kiss me this morning? I hope you know that perhaps. . .it meant a lot more to me than it meant to you." Realizing that she might be hurt, Calcifer opens his mouth to respond, but Umbra has begun to speak once more, cutting him off before he actually utters a word.

"I don't mean to be imposing, and I don't mean to say that you...that we," he is slightly confused by these words, not properly certain of what she is trying to say in this instance, though is sounds like an unnecessary apology for a perfectly reasonable question. Umbra, however, backtracks even further again, apparently still unsatisfied with what she has said. The girl seems so retrospective, always looking back at the past. Calcifer is the opposite of this. He dislikes the past, and so ignores it as fully as possible, instead focusing on the present and future. Perhaps this is what gives him talent as a photographer, but it also leaves him doomed to repeat past mistakes, not completely able to accept the past. "Do not mind me, Calcifer. Sometimes I just do not know what to say. I just want to...enjoy this night."

"You should stop taking back what you say. It makes the words seem. . .less sincere," Calcifer encourages with a comfortable smile, taking another sip of his hot chocolate, which has begun to reach a less formidable temperature. "Why did I kiss you? Hm. Because I am not in the business of denying myself simple desires, and you were beautiful," he sounds rather unapologetic about this, rather casual but completely serious and unflinchingly genuine. That is one of the young man's better qualities. He may be childish and may choose to forget the past and may be fickle, but he never says something that he doesn't mean. That is another thing which he is not in the business of: denying himself honesty.

"All the same, I apologize if it had made you uncomfortable."