#zevmonroe

[predomiinates]

zevmonroe replied to your post:..

*winks saucily* … *retreats into fortress of solitude*

*crawls after you*

[intertwnd]

zevmonroe said: no you need to do your research paper c’mon boo

you're a research paper

[predomiinates]

              мєяє∂ιтн нσσρєя & ᴢᴇᴠ ᴍᴏɴʀᴏᴇ

тнє вєѕт тнιηﻭ тσ нσℓ∂ σηтσ ιη ℓιƒє ιѕ єα¢н σтнєя.

              {ᴀᴜᴅʀᴇy ʜᴇᴩʙᴜʀɴ}

[meredith-annabelle-hooper-blog]

Who do you find attractive

The new model the school hired is rather pretty. It's a shame Amelia left, but Katie is rather aesthetically pleasing.

... I suppose Zev is as well. Perhaps if he stopped wearing those ghastly shirts and the God-awful glasses. 

Kaine is in his own right. Matty too, though he was cuter when I was sneaking into Leopold's lectures. The Noirs.

Max too, but only objectively. 

Maria. 

I, ah, I don't know many other people who I would consider attractive.  

[meredith-annabelle-hooper-blog]

Preludé to Forging for Fun and Profit

She looked up from her coffee and smiled faintly at the person across the counter, just to maintain her appearance as a polite, quiet girl no one bothered. Traits she found in her mother and tried to emulate. Meredith shut her eyes tight. Her thoughts raced, melding together in the daze of her sleep deprivation. It had been days since she'd left the studio, and her professor finally returned from his trip to find her there, and promptly tossed her out... again.

"Meredith, cari," he had called out upon walking through the threshold of his studio, his lyrical, mellifluous voice filled their studio. The tall, lithely built man walked as if he were in a passionate dance with life, accompanied by a Latin beat audible only to his ears. For the moment, though, Joaquín's dance reached a pause. He sighed at the familiarity of the situation and silenced her music player, effectively drawing his young student out her out of the trance. 

Startled the painter turned around to face her teacher, hair falling out of her messy braid, framing the flame of anger that flickered briefly in her features before extinguishing. Her face was neutral for a beat, then she tried producing the doe's eyes that so often won her favours. Granted they were favours with others who didn't know her half as intimately as the Argentinian.

It was his intimacy that caught Meredith off guard. He broke the distance with two strides and reached out to hold her head in his hands. Her doe eyes flickered back to anger once more, but this time it died out at the revelation of a blazing headache. She shut her eyes tight, opening them again when he began to speak softly, but emphatically.

"Basta, niña!" His warm, light brown eyes looked into her's. "How do you except to bring life to your art if you have none to put into it?" He asked of her, sadly tracing a smear of gray paint on her cheek with his thumb and noting the dark circles under her eyes.

The aged professor sighed again, letting go of Meredith and going up to the easel she was working at. "It's sloppy," he stated, scrutinizing the canvas. It wasn't sloppy, the girl's was consistently breathtaking both in aesthetics and artistry, and he was grateful he was faced away from her.  "You're tired. You need to go home and rest," he commanded, over his shoulder.  

Meredith nodded, agreeing to the suggestion solely to appease him. She had no real intention of returning to her flat. Rest wasn't an option. At least not when she'd be jerked awake by the terrors that haunted her sleeping thoughts. She glanced at the clock as she walked out of the studio, deciding to get coffee and make preparations for the Van Gogh. 

Joaquín was only slightly pleased at watching her go. He wasn't ignorant that she would try to sneak in later that evening, and as soon as she rounded the corner he went to talk with security about not letting her in should she try.

Her eyes shot open when she heard the seat next to her move and she stared blankly at the black coffee in front of her. "Cari," he said, sympathetically, and he sat in the chair next to her, dropping his travel bags on the floor and running his long fingers through his hair. He had seen her through the cafe's window as he passed by. It worried him.

"I'm an old man, cari," he admitted, unwillingly. The professor's music seemed to dissipate as he folded his hands together on the bar, and Meredith glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her head angling slightly while she listened. "I've been around awhile," the man continued, "a long while and... and I've never seen someone with your talent. All this beauty makes it's way from your heart onto the canvas. It's magia, natural magic, it flows from you."

Meredith refrained from telling him it wasn't magic, that there was no such thing, and that everything was maths, but she remained silent, listening intently. 

"You're a marvel to watch, but it's like watching a flower thrown to a flame. There's that English saying, yes? Life imitates art or art imitates life?" Joaquín shook his head in disagreement. "Life feeds art, cari, and art feeds life. It's the fuel that keeps us going. The only thing that makes life worth living, but it can't be made without life, and you waste your life spending hours, days even in the studio."

The girl's fists clenched at her sides. He didn't understand painting was the water, the only thing that worked to extinguish the burning boredom that so often ravaged her mind. Joaquín sighed, noticing how angry she was and collected his bags. He patted her shoulder and she tensed up. "Don't burn yourself out, Meredith," he warned, then left.

Fifteen minutes later Meredith paid for her coffee and went home. She laid out a drop cloth on the floor of her room, set up an easel she'd bought with Elizabeth's money, and paced around the room before falling into her bed and stared blankly at the ceiling. 

[Forging for Fun and Profit]

[meredith-annabelle-hooper-blog]

[meredith-annabelle-hooper-blog]

Meredith's Current Plot

Things are going rather slowly due to the amount of time I (should) be spending away from this account, so, for those of you following Meredith's plot, here's an overview of everything going on in her main 'verse.

The Merimish story is going even slower, but bear with us. Zayne and I have some plotastic stuff coming up when he gets a proper computer. It'll break your heart and make you cry. Trust me. 

But on to the other heart-wrenching storyline. Meredith is currently in the middle of an art heist a month or so after she ends communication with Jeremy. She's, ah, borrowing Starry Night Over The Rhone for personal study. 

In this endeavor she meets Zev Monroe a rather talented criminal consultant. Well in all actuality, he's a spastic idiot without a sense of style, but he did beat Jim Moriarty to a shipment of cocaine once. It impressed Meredith and she asked him to find her special paints to paint the forgery of Starry Night. They meet for coffee so the paints can be delivered, and you'll have to follow Forging for Fun and Profit to learn more. 

Meredith successfully forges the painting and switches it with the original, taking it back to her flat to begin her study. This lasts three days, then she returns it to the museum, only to find that Mycroft (after being tipped off by Sherlock) had extra cameras placed in the archives. He catches her, and we have Canvassing.

Amid all these happenings she's creating ties with the Noir brothers,  having lunch with her sort-of stepfather, playing at being Elizabeth with a pretty freelance computer programmer, and painting her little black heart out while preparing for the highly anticipated Hooper Christmas. Along with the equally intriguing Christmas party hosted by Max. 

All of these events lead into the New Year where she'll continue on more or less the same until an encounter with Mackenzie. Pissing the woman off, Meredith ends up in the ER with her left hand broken and Zev by her side. 

After that well… we will see. 

For those of you really, really far behind:

Zev and Meredith are compared to Bonnie and Clyde by Jeijei and me. They're partners, lovers, friends, Meredith trusts him in a unprecedented ways, and Zev adores her. The two marry June 2, 2040 after nearly nine years of being in each other's lives. Over that time they (somewhat accidentally) build a criminal empire that overshadows Meredith's father's.

Of her own volition Meredith begins distancing herself from her family and friends. Molly doesn't attend their wedding, and is wholly unaware of the engagement. That is until Meredith visits that Christmas, making it the first time she has in years. Several matters are discussed during this reunion, and Meredith slowly comes to the realisation that she became everything she once hated. 

After saying good-bye to her mother, she goes back home in a contemplative haze. The next few days are wrought with confusion based on identity, questionable morality of her deeds, and her own motives of the past few years. On Christmas Eve she writes Zev a letter and takes enough sedatives so she goes to bed and never wakes up.  

[meredith-annabelle-hooper-blog]

Bear Hands - Crime Pays 

Everyone knows that crime pays And everybody does it Everyone knows that crime pays And everybody loves it Oh the street's looking hard Got a fresh credit card I believe in the power Of people with resolve It took six months of trials Just to put me in jail In seven long years They never offered bail Everyone knows that crime pays And everybody does it Everyone knows that crime pays And everybody loves it Everybody loves it Just cause and a search To find the shovel and the dirt I'm just sticking to my work I'm just sticking to my work I found the files on the run Up to denial Lassie running to the well At the sound of a bell now Everyone knows that crimes pays And everybody does it Everyone knows that crime pays And everybody loves it Everybody loves it Everyone knows that crime pays And everybody does it Everyone know that crime pays And everybody loves it Everybody loves it