Astrid would be sitting in the back of the black Lincoln as the car pulled up next to the curb outside of the little shop which she had wanted to look to find a dress for the masquerade ball that was coming up soon. Rex would look over the front seat as let her know he was going to drop her off here and then go quickly to find a parking spot. So climbing out as she then shuts the door before turning to look at the little shop that she had choose .
Then slowly taken a look up and down the street at the people who were getting ready to hit the streets to do whatever they were traveling too. Baby pink t-shirt would cling to her upper body as she would brush it down with her fragile hands. Then make sure that the black jeans were OK. The let her black flats carry her toward the entrance of the store as she reach out to take the handle of the store to pull the door open.
-- Edited by ASTRID YOUNG on Saturday 5th of March 2011 11:06:24 PM
It was a good thing that Taran traveled the French Quarter with his bodyguard, Bruce. A few blocks north and west of the shops, clubs and cafes was Iberville, a good of a place to get jacked as any. Taran didn't wander off as he arrived at his go-see, surprisingly the human was on time and not a moment earlier. The supermodel had a reputation for being terribly late, and he didn't want to chap his agent, Paul's ass.
Used to the runways and fashion houses of New York, London and Milan, the young man walked the crowded streets of New Orleans now, weaving in and out a maze of all kinds of people and rows of little shops. Taran saw shops that catered to American and European antique and contemporary furniture; paintings, sculpture, drawings and every other artistic medium imaginable; local and regional crafts; and clothing galore including custom-designed gowns, off-the-rack designer numbers, vintage couture, fanciful lingerie, custom millinery, and hip, trendy, street-wear.
There was all manner of new, used and rare books and music offered in shops ranging from expansive to closet-like. Cooks could placate their passions at century-old grocery stores or delicatessens, comprehensive kitchen shops and general stores offering hard-to-find regional food-stuffs. There was even a culinary antiques shop that carried everything from ancient china, crystal and hand-embroidered linens to rustic duck presses. Taran wasn't a good cook but he was a good eater.
He had found a new item to like: fluffy, powdered beignets and cafe au lait. Taran had found an eatery that served the little "knots of love" that morning on his search for his go-see. Now, he was just browsing and entered a shop called Violets. It wasn't until he was halfway inside and set his knapsack down, that he heard Bruce clear his voice. "Bloody hell. Tis a shop fer sheilas." He was picking up his knapsack in one fell swoop and rather embarrasingly ran smack into a woman who had just entered the shop.
Taran's cheeks flushed red. "I'm so sorry love, are ya okay?" He offered to pick up anything she might have dropped. Looking at him, he was an extremely handsome young man, with glossy black curls, shimmering hazel eyes, and a million watt, expressive smile. Which right now was aimed towards Astrid. Maybe he should linger around the shop and look for a prezzie for his Mum's birthday coming up. Good idea.
Or not. Glancing around him, he saw vintage vamp meets old Hollywood. "I...I was just lookin' miss." he said to a sales consultant in the shop who asked him if he needed any "help." Taran wasn't sure that a dairy farmer's wife would have an event that would warrant buying a $200 dress that wasn't her style anyway. Still, he studied Astrid, sort of staring at her for a moment. "Name's Taran Branden. Yers?" he said in his dinki di do or die Aussie voice. He would wait until she answered before making a break for it with his bodyguard.
-- Edited by TARAN BRANDEN on Saturday 5th of March 2011 06:27:30 PM
Astrid hadn't realize that someone was trying to come out when she was coming in.So she ran right into the person coming out which knocked her off her feet her purse when flying through the sky to land and scatter onto the cement ground behind her. Her hands would be scuff up some as she brace herself for the fall.
" Ouch, that hurt and really sucked. "
She let her golden orbs look up to see who she had bump into to see a young man there.Grinning like a chesire cat. Which didn't really help. So after him helping her up and picking up her things that when back into her purse. She dusted herself off. Before looking to the young man who told her his name was Taran Branden .
" Nice to meet you Taran. I'm Astrid .."
She would glance around some before looking to him as she would brush her blonde strands of hair from her face.
Taran didn't think what he had accidently done was funny, it was just his habit to smile at the sheilas. He had plenty of time for more serious poses behind the other end of a flashing 35mm camera. His voice lifted about 5 octaves higher when he knocked Astrid 5 ways to Sunday.
"Crikey love! I didn't mean to knock the wind out of ya! Here, up we go!" said Taran, who offered a smooth warm hand, nails manicured, to her in order to help her out of her jam. He would pull with very little effort to lift her back on her feet, and he was very apologetic. Taran must have said sorry 100 times.
"Yer not banged up are ya? Seems I'm all arses and elbows today, by crikey!" he said alarmed when she said it hurt and it sucked. His hazel eyes looked her over for injury, before he said, "Should I find a medic?" Bruce had been standing on the sidelines watching the whole scene unfold, but reached down to grab the woman's handbag that went flying as the hapless Taran bumped into her at the door. It was handed over to Astrid before some pickpocket could snatch it up.
"Ya have to let me make it up to ya...somehow...Astrid? he said, as she gave him her name. Taran thought it was an unusual name but his was one letter short of being Tarzan. The wild child from Down Under, dusted Astrid off, and smiled again, rather nervously. America was a place where they sued the pants off people for minor things, after all. "How about I pay for anythin' ya want in the shop? Or have tucker with me. That's if yer hungry."
It wasn't a date or was it? Taran was just trying to be nice about the whole thing. It was apparent that the woman didn't recognize his face, otherwise she'd be screaming for an autograph the whole time, instead of saying getting laid out on the pavement sucked. He would wait until Astrid either slapped the tar out of him, or chose to shop or eat.
God how she hated shopping, especially for dresses. And if she hadn't gotten so nervous and messed up the last dress she wouldn't have to be doing this again. A long sigh escaped her as she parked her little antique VW bug and slipped out to move along the shops. She had plans to get her hair done up nice and even her nails done, but her mother suggestion for a makeover wasn't flying for her. She canvas sneakers carried her along the shops as she rested her hands in the pockets of her jeans.
The dark blue shirt accented her curves without being to tight. The white lettering across the front read 'Welcome to the dark side. Are you surprised we lied about the cookies?' Over her shoulder hung the ever present military looking canvas tote that she carried instead purse. Perched on her head to hide the messy braid was her Chaplin hat. It was one of her prized possessions. She was an avid fan of Charlie Chaplin. Of course, she had a thing about black and white movies anyway. Especially the classic monster movies. Give her Vincent Price, Lon Chaney Jr., and Boris Karlof, and she'd be in heaven.
She looked up from her thoughts just in time to see the book store sign. "Oh!" And in the door she went. She could never bypass a bookstore. It was a terrible, terrible weakness of hers. She wondered around and ended up with 2 new books, instead of 6, before leaving. Now, to get down to the dress business. She was not looking forward to this at all. Two shops later and she was looking a little less hopeful and a bit stressed as she worried her lower lip. It was bad enough she was buying a nice dress. But, she couldn't fins anything to match the things she'd bought to go with the other one. Which meant she was going to have to start all over again probably. "Man." She mumbled to herself.
Not willing to go to that extreme yet she darted into the next shop she saw and almost collided with the ones there talking. "Oh, excuse me." Her voice a mixture of old southern and Cajun as it spilled from her lips. She smiled weakly and the moved around them to start looking at the shops wearables. Her gaze flicking back and forth to the two talking now and then.
" Oh I'm good just a little bruised .I don't think it will kill me Taran. And it alright. Things like this always happen to me. "
Astrid wasn't someone who will hold a grudge unless you killed someone she loved. But right now she didn't have anyone like that other then Viktor but anyway lets get off that topic.
" Hmmm a tucker? "
A light laugh would escape her at his accent. She didn't under stand what he was saying. Before she would take her purse back. Before Rex her own bodyguard would seem to appear behind her and asked if everything was OK . In which she would explain what happen.
" Rex , Taran has asked me out to dinner (?) to make up for running into me. So I would love to accept your invitation to the dinner, Taran. I'll have to look for a dress for the masqurade ball tomorrow.."
Astrid would step off to the side as the young women would enter behind her as she would give her a warm smile before looking toward Taran again.
Taran clenched his teeth slightly as Astrid informed him that she had been bruised. Perhaps he didn't realize his own strength, after all he hadn't played Aussie Rules Football since he got the stress fracture in the growth plate of his left leg. So that meant he didn't quite run into pretty sheilas all that often. Not intentionally, that is.
"Really, I'm sorry." he said for the last time. Was she a fashion model as well? Or was that her boyfriend? Taran certainly didn't want to tip the apple cart, with another male standing behind her now. "Um, alls well, mate. Didn't mean to intrude. No worries, eh?" he said to Rex, who looked rather intimidating, but no more intimidating than his own bodyguard.
Then he heard her repeat the word "tucker," rather amusedly. Astrid didn't catch his Aussie lingo, apparently. "A meal, love." His hazel depths brightened at the prospect of taking her out for a meal, even if he had bruised her like a bad banana. Then he had to step aside for another pretty sheila, wearing a funny T-shirt. He found himself chuckling, a warm ripple of laughter from the handsome hunk.
So far, he was liking the New Orleans thing. No one seemed to recognize him! That was quite a start, since he had seen the billboard of himself up near some buildings over on Bourbon Street. "G'Day, Miss." he said to Kat in passing, his gaze lingering on her bohemian style of dress, which seemed to offset the wares in Violets. "So that's a yes. Tucker is on me?" Well yes and no. Seems there was a dress to look for, so he would be there for a while Taran thought.
"A dress for a masquerade ball. Sounds bonzer!" he tried to sound as enthusiastic as possible about waiting around for Astrid in a shop that wasn't for blokes like himself, but those of the female species. At least he had a birds eye view of the two beauties, each different in their own way. One had a bookstore bag, the other well, probably wore the imprint of his curly head on her chest from his tackling move earlier. "S'pose ya best find a seat, Brucie. Buckley's chance of getting to jet in a few now." he grinned.
