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@nixonprice
" — I, uh, no. I don’t remember, I’m sorry. I knew a lot of jack asses, and wasn’t familiar with anyone popular."
"Well hmm," Nixon said thinking of a way to remind Callan of him in high school. "What year did you graduate maybe that'll help me think of something."
Defend: One of our muses protects the other
Nixon accompanied Callan as they walked down the street. He was directing them to the diner as they had a lunch “date” again. Nixon grew quite fond of the man, he was an interesting specimen that Nixon was becoming increasingly curious about. He honestly never knew a blind man and it was sort of refreshing to watch how other people lived their lives.
"So I have to touch people’s faces to try and figure out what they look like." Nixon heard Callan say as he payed more attention to the man instead of his thoughts.
"Huh, that is sort of interesting, how well does it work? What exactly do faces look/feel like?" Nixon asked quizzically. Just in that moment the pair walk by an alley way. A man quickly walks out and steps towards Callan with force and intimidation in his eyes. Nixon quickly steps on the other side of Callan to try and defend his friend. The man from the alley tries to push Nixon out of the way to go for the more vulnerable target, the blind man. Trying to avoid the man Nixon quickly sidesteps the man and trips him as he advances forward.
Quickly, Nixon grabs Callan by the arm and rushes him down the street trying to get away from the now discombobulated man. “What was that all about? It sounded like a lot of a fuss.” Callan asked with a hint of confusion.
Slowing their run down to a slow jog Nixon replies with, “Just some idiot trying to mug you I think, I didn’t really give him a chance to make a move.” He opened the door to the diner and followed his friend inside. “Nothing to worry about now, how about we get something to eat?”
"I’m sure it is. Huh, I guess… we weren’t friends," Callan said carefully, though he didn’t really have any friends during those years.
"That's strange, not to toot my own horn but, I was pretty popular because I did magic at the school a lot. Do you remember that? If it helps I was sort of a jack ass in high school but I think I cleared that up now." Nixon said with a slight laugh.
With a massive stack of books in his arms, Alvin wandered through the library while rearranging some of them. They were not in order and it was causing the neurotic part of his personality to twitch with irritation. Moving to place the books on the table in front of a man he hardly noticed, he scrambled to the bookshelf with the books that weren’t in order and started to reorganize them. When the man spoke, he responded absent-mindedly. “Ju-Just…one sec. These books…” Sticking out his tongue to the right a bit, he finally got them in order and slumped in his stance in relief. “There. Everything’s in order.” He said softly, walking back over to the man and smiled in a friendly manner to show he wasn’t too crazy. “Sorry about that, what did you say?”
Nixon watched the strange man in front of him fiddle with the stack of books. It almost looked as if the books were about to fall onto of Nixon. It was interesting for Nixon to watch as the man concentrated so hard on the books, it was a dedication that he really didn't understand. "Oh, nothing I just thought that you were standing there waiting for me to look up but now I see that you were doing something far more important." He said to the man. "Now, what exactly were you doing? It certainly looks like you were concentrated!" Nixon added.
"Well,I couldn’t cook myself a meal to save my life, so I thought I would try this place out tonight." He paused "What about you?"
"Being at home is somewhat depressing when your only company is birds so I like to get out sometimes."
ewwbarnes:
100 songs that are ridiculously overused in fanvids and fanmixes, yet I love’em still [25/100]
Marina and The Diamonds- Oh No
"Yeah I guess it is."
Pushing the food aside Nixon looked at the man. "So what brings you to the diner tonight?" He asked the man next to him.
"Not much to tell, raised in Sunset Valley, I went to private school, picked up writing during my Junior year, been painting forever though."
"Wait, a Sunset Valley private school?" Nixon said with a confused look on his face. "I went to a Sunset Valley private school, could it possibly be the same school?"
ℬlack ℳoon || Nixon X Libby
Settled in nicely, Libby already looked more relaxed. The plants and flowers and fresh air wafting through the open windows gave her a natural glow, as if she drew energy from the plants and the nature. The cold glare in her gray eyes had almost softened to room-temperature, like the waves beginning to lull in the middle of the day, as icy winds died down. Sipping her drink, Libby watched him with a happy expression — hah, she’d gotten him a bit excited for her question.
Watching Nixon’s show had surprised Libby; how flawlessly he pulled off the stunts, the casual way he carried himself on stage, and the little things he did with his face when joking. It flowed so smoothly, like velet Even as a carefree child, Libby had never been able to pull off such confidence in front of an audience. But it was not that which had Libby interested — it was Nixon’s hands. Plain, calloused human hands.
"Will you teach me?" The blonde asked rather plainly, casually. The silence between her proposal and conclusion had been a stretch, and now her words hung on the air, dripping with mystery. Giving a slight laugh at her own vagueness, Libby leaned onto an elbow, placing her chin in her hand, long black nails against her pearly white complexion. "That magic with your hands, the fake kind. I could do all of your tricks and more, believe me. But thats because I’m a witch. I want to know how to do those illusions without the use of sorcery."
Even as she asked, Libby wanted to shake her head at the thought. using illusions in the place of magic, what fun was that? What fun was anything without magic? Even though Libby herself remained very, very conservative with her abilities, she adored just the fact she knew they were at her disposal. Perhaps it was just the prospect of saving her energy and still being able to preform cheap tricks that intrigued Libby — maybe it wasn’t. Either way, she was curious.
And a curious witch is never a good mixture.
Nixon sat with curiosity as the girl waited to tell him what her question was. He hadn't the slightest clue of what she would want to ask him. The moment the words left her lips Nixon felt invigorated. She wants me to teach her magic? Ha that ought to be fun. He thought to himself as the girl began to talk again. Really? A witch wants to learn stage magic that is a first.
"You want me to teach you the art of illusion?" He said taking his spoon tossing it into the air, catching it only to reveal a fork instead. "You do know that a good magician never reveals his or her secret. However, I think that we can work something out." Nixon added.
He sat pondering for a moment, how could he teach her? She probably doesn't know anything about magic at all so I'll have to start with the basics. He deduced. "Alright, how about tomorrow if you aren't busy you come to my place and I can try to teach you a little bit of magic?" Nixon asked Libby.
Nixon sat at table at the library reading a book. He looked up to see who was standing in front of him. "Oh, sorry I didn't see you there. Did you need something?"
"No, no I suppose not. You are starting to sound very familiar though," Callan laughed slightly, always having been good at voices, but couldn’t place this one.
"You know, I was starting to think the same of you. Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?"
"Let me try." Hunter laughed taking the food from the man.
"Looks like I can’t do it either."
"A lot harder than it looks isn't it?" Nixon said with a smile.
"I agree, though its hard to make friends without knowing much about the other. So, Nixon, tell me. Who are you?"
"Well as you already know, I am Nixon Price. I am a magician by profession and an adventurer at heart." Nixon said sipping his water that the waitress brought by. "Not a very interesting person, anything else that you'd like to know?"
"For the love of everything, can you please stop doing that."
"All right, all right." Nixon said sadly ask his attempt failed. "I can't get it right anyway."
Smiling as he turned his face to where the waitress stood, he hoped, he nodded. “And some orange juice, please, as well. Thank you!” He exclaimed, turning back to Nixon as he heard her shuffle away. The sound of rain was beginning outside, and Callan smiled knowingly. “LOoks like we were right, huh? Its raining.”
"It certainly is." Nixon said looking out the window. "Well, I personally think that spending lunch with a potential friend is a great way to spend a raining afternoon."
"Yes. It wasn’t very good."
"That sounds like a tragically sad story. Why are you so desperate for finding someone?"
"Yeah, probably would take a few weeks to process completly. And so far we don’t have a book yet, we just started at the sleepover and things got a little crazy."
"Crazy can be a good thing though, if used correctly."
