[ STARTER ID: MIRELA CARTER ] @mirelacarter / NYC: The MET, present day.
A Windsor must live up to his name, still, regardless of the fallacies that he’s contributed to tarnish his own image, which wields a double-edged sword to lower the defence of those around him, but also manages to decimate his intelligence in the public. Still, he doesn’t mind—life is always about making choices, so he has to stick to the ones he’s made. And this, this one is a part of this: meeting up with Mirela to follow upon her information on the Pollock auction. He’s known that for a while, now, being an art enthusiast himself, but these days he’d attribute that to the opulence that he must entertain as opposed to his own interests.
Treading into the halls, he remembers the quiet as it echoes, the marbled interior an imminent deluge of nostalgia that he’d rather not indulge. He listens to her footfalls closely, but doesn’t acknowledge her presence as of yet until she is close enough to him. He quirks his eyebrows upon turning to face her, humming. “You look... how do I say, a bit... fresh,” he comments, smiling amiably.
