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Post by Lucette Devereux on Aug 15, 2012 5:19:08 GMT -5
oufit: here!
Lucette was perched on someone's desk next to the window, her forehead pressed against the glass, looking out down onto the Alley below. She had no idea whose desk she was sat on, nor a clue what it was she had been sent to do (probably to get somebody coffee, but it was somebody she disliked so she'd forgotten immediately), but she was watching the rain outside and wondering absently whether she'd be able to persuade Henry to cook dinner tonight, since she really didn't fancy getting take-out yet again. They could easily afford to eat out somewhere, but frankly she didn't feel like making the effort that would require. Sighing, she pressed a tanned hand up against the window and watched the glass steam up around it. She was so bored. She couldn't remember why she'd taken this job. The people were dull, the hours long, and the tasks frankly onerous. She was far too good for this sort of job, really. Heaving a mighty, overdramatic sigh, she hopped off the desk, slipped on the shoe which had fallen off while she was sat there, and with one last look at the rain, turned around quickly to head back to her own desk. Unfortunately, she turned around rather too quickly, crashing into the returning owner of the desk she'd been sat on, and sending the cup of tea he'd been holding tumbling down over the pair of them. Gasping, Lucette took a deep breath, for once quite lost for words. How dare he?! How dare he?!
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Post by Ben Faraday on Aug 15, 2012 10:13:51 GMT -5
Ben was on his way back from an “important” meeting with one of his editors in which he’d done nothing but pretend to listen and had shaken his head in agreement every three seconds to make it seem as though he was engaged in what was being said to him. He knew perfectly well what he was supposed to be doing and what his duties on the job were, which was one of the few things in life that he got regularly defensive about and would break out of his normally polite and well-mannered behavior in order to prove a point. Even though he hadn’t directly said anything to signal his disapproval of the way he was treated at times at the Prophet, his subtle enough actions had likely spoken louder than words.
On his walk to his desk, he’d decided to make a detour to get a cup of tea from the cafe located in their offices, considering he was all out of the tea he usually brought from home and stored in his desk. Caffeine always made him feel better, and like expected he was immediately more cheerful, walking towards his office area with a bit more bounce in his step than he’d had earlier. It was quite unfortunate, then, that in his few moments of not paying attention to his surroundings he crashed into someone turning around full speed from the direction of his desk.
“I’m so sorry – I didn’t even –” he began quickly, his need to apologize even if it hadn’t been his fault kicking in as he watched the cup fall out of his hands in almost slow motion, the contents of it spilling about all over his shoes and the other person’s. When he finally glanced up and saw who it was, he looked even more panicked, going on to add, “I’m really sorry, Lucette – that was my mistake, I didn’t mean to at all...” he trailed off, biting his lip as he leaned down to pick up the fallen cup from the ground, and not being able to help but notice the tea that had gotten all over her shoes which, no doubt, were some sort of designer, expensive brand.
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Post by Lucette Devereux on Aug 15, 2012 10:56:43 GMT -5
Lucette was so outraged that it took her a few moments to regain the power of speech. She simply watched him as he bent to pick up his spilt tea - oh god, her shoes - giving him such a glare when he rose back up to full height that she wouldn't have been surprised if his eyebrows had caught on fire.
Finally recovering enough to talk, her Australian accent as usual becoming much stronger now that she was agitated, totally oblivious to the fact that the entire thing was her fault, she almost screamed at him in fury.
"You idiot!" she shrieked, kicking off her shoes so hard they smacked against the window, "Do you have any idea how much those cost?! Do you?! No, you don't!" she continued, not giving him a chance to answer, "Because you a stupid tea-spilling idiot!"
Shaking with righteous indignation, Lucette made a great show of brushing herself off (though her dress was almost entirely untouched by the tea) and then plonked her hands firmly on her hips and refocused her scowl on him. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"
ooc: yay you found it! i was going to pm you about it but i forgot sorryyyy. also sorry about lucette, she's a twat. ben has my complete permission to give her a smack.
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Post by Ben Faraday on Aug 15, 2012 17:08:49 GMT -5
Ben simply stared up at her in horror as she was silent for a few moments, knowing his co-worker well enough to realize that that probably meant way worse things than if she’d just begun yelling immediately. But no, she was quiet for a short amount of time, during which it came naturally to him to fear for his very life. He was almost relieved when she finally opened her mouth to speak, although her words weren’t all that comforting to his sense of safety either.
“Lucette, I’m so, so sorry,” he repeated stupidly, disregarding the fact that he probably sounded like a broken record, “it was an accident... I don’t know how much your shoes are worth, but they’re really nice and I apologize that I spilt tea all over them. I’ll pay you back, promise,” he went on, trying to remain calm under her glare. She’d kicked her shoes off as well, which had only startled him further. Setting the now mostly empty cup of tea on a nearby table, he walked over to the window where her shoes had landed, picking them up and sheepishly bringing them back over to her.
“I don’t have anything to say. All I can is that I'm very sorry,” he told her, still sounding overly apologetic for someone who’d just gotten yelled at even when they hadn’t been at fault. She looked quite more intimidating than usual with her hands fixed on her hips, he noticed as he gazed briefly at her, and it was taking a lot of his effort to not start begging her to let him go unharmed.
(OOC – omfg it was any of my other characters, they’d either walk away or lucette would get a slap. but this is BEN and he has to stay and say sorry three hundred times. he just has to.)
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Post by Lucette Devereux on Aug 19, 2012 9:25:06 GMT -5
"You couldn't afford to pay me back for these if you gave me all your life-savings," Lucette spat at Ben rudely and untruthfully, snatching them back off him with little grace as he came to hand them over to her. Heaving a vast, melodramatic sigh as she held the shoes up at eye-level to examine them more closely, Lucette's eyes flicked to Ben a couple of times, narrowed and dangerous. If the truth be told, she actually thought more highly of Ben Faraday than of many of her colleagues - he seemed outright afraid of her, which was always good in her books - but she still wasn't prepared to let this slide. She didn't like him that much.
Finally condescending to cease making a song and dance about it, Lucette reached over and dropped the shoes into the nearest bin - she probably would have been able to clean them by magic, but the tea had soaked right the way through the fabric and the process would be long and complicated. She didn't see the point since the shoes were actually one of her cheaper pairs and not her favourites. So, now, barefooted, Lucette hopped up to sit on a counter close to Ben's desk and gave him her best haughty look.
"I was supposed to come and ask you if you needed anything doing for you," she informed him like it was the last thing on Earth she wanted to be doing - to be fair, secretarial tasks were about all she was suitable for, but nobody would dare tell her that, "You know, research, proofreading, whatever. Just don't ask me to fetch you more tea, because I won't."
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Post by Ben Faraday on Aug 20, 2012 22:08:58 GMT -5
Ben opened his mouth to apologize again, though his desire to do so fell slightly short as she went on – her shoes couldn’t really be that expensive, could they? He had a vague idea that she was quite rich but that was about it, and although he never paid much attention to the details of his younger sister’s modelling career, he’d seen enough pairs of decently priced shoes that Eva wore on the job to make the connection that they were much like Lucette’s and thus hers couldn’t be all that much pricier. “I really don’t think that’s true,” he spoke thoughtfully, his voice containing no sarcasm or malice but instead giving off the vibe that he’d accidentally said them, “I mean – I know they must be expensive, but I’m sure I could pay you back somehow...”
He winced as she narrowed her eyes at him again, though he wasn’t sure whether he ought to be relieved or even more scared as she dropped the shoes into the nearest rubbish bin. He considered her question as she sat down on a counter nearby, wondering what sort of work he could give to her that wouldn’t make her further upset. The mention of tea was very appealing, but he knew not to openly cross her in that manner without risking death. “Yes, I suppose that’s why you were hanging about by my desk,” he thought out loud once more, regretting his words immediately even if they sounded far more polite when compared to her haughty tone.
Gazing quickly at the papers scattered all over his desk – though they looked messy, he had a careful organizational system going and thus knew exactly where everything was but no one else could possibly attempt to find it if he asked them to – he grabbed one of the files closest to him, handing it to her with an obvious air of caution surrounding all his movements. “If you could do some research on that and get back to me soon, that’d be lovely...”
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Post by Lucette Devereux on Sept 6, 2012 17:06:39 GMT -5
Lucette decided to ignore Ben's comment about her shoes - rather miraculously, but to be fair she was getting rather tired of the whole situation - and instead sat silently and waited as he turned to survey his bombsite of a desk. Looking at the mess made her feel faintly nauseous - how could he survive in that tip? - so instead Lucette switched her gaze to him and studied him absently as he picked out a file. He was alright-looking, actually, for an idiot. Bit lanky, but his hair was so great Lucette was almost jealous. Hers was still nicer, and yet...
Snapped out of her thoughts by Ben's voice, she took the file off him rather sharply - more snatching than anything else, really. All of his movements were incredibly cautious, which was right up her street. Rather delighted by this fact, Lucette decided to do her best to rain confusion down upon him and so stretched her face out into the biggest, sweetest smile she could drum up - the smile she usually reserved only for when she wanted something from one of her male relatives.
"Okay, I'll do that," she promised cheerfully, hopping off the desk with a bounce, still smiling. She then proceeded go around the desk she'd just been sitting on in order to plop herself into the chair behind it, settling herself down with the file, clearly planning to do all her research from there. She had her own desk, but she had to share her small cubicle-esque space with an infuriatingly chirpy prat of a girl, and given the choice Lucette would take Ben over that wazzock any day.
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Post by Ben Faraday on Sept 12, 2012 11:21:52 GMT -5
Ben stared at Lucette blankly as she proceeded to smile at him, feeling a unmistakeable shift in her attitude as she did – unless she was just faking it, a thought which didn’t even cross his mind for the time being as he smiled back at her, albeit a bit reluctantly. “Thanks,” he replied evenly, looking quite elated, not to mention relieved, that she’d finally let go of the matter surrounding her ruined shoes. He still wanted to make it up to her somehow so she knew he was truly sorry about the mishap, but he wasn’t too sure how to yet, so he put the issue at the back of his mind to contemplate later.
He watched her make her way around the desk she’d initially been sitting at, taking his chair and spot at the desk with the resolve of someone who wasn’t going to budge much even if they were asked to. He almost opened his mouth to tell her that she’d accidentally sit at his desk instead of her area of the office on the other side of the room, but decided against it at the last second, realizing that she was probably aware of this fact and just didn’t care. He sighed, fidgeting in place for a moment as he ran over his options, and finally responded, still politely, “I’m going to run to get some more tea for myself. Would you like anything?”
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