Runaway Cowboy

Blaise smiled a bright smile that not many were able to witness unless he truly felt comfortable around you. "I mean, I'd like to think I am fairly hilarious." he admitted proudly. "It's only weird if you make it weird, he admitted looking at the hour again from his wrist watch. "Okay, okay, I won't talk about how I'm secretly your father." he teased now shaking his head as he began to realize how wrong it sounded out loud. "On second thought, I'd sotp." he agreed in defeat. "Alright, well it's only one train we have to take, so lets just catch the L." he decided reaching for his wallet as they went down the staircase that led into the trainstation.

It was absolutely normal for Blaise to mistakenly offend someone or misinterpret at least on individual in a week. If a week would go by and neither of these things happened he would probably be greatly concerned. Watching the woman's expresion before him, he listened out for her next comment, wanting to make sure he was ready for whatever possible sas she could through his way. Blaise shruged to her question of why would she, which is exactly what he was wondering, why would someone feel the need to come and judge a complete stranger admiring a piece of art in a public gallery, for him it was blasphemy. "That my dear, is an absolute brilliant question, why would someone judge an admirer? I mean, I'd understand if I had my hands in my pants and was being inapporpriate, but I'm just an artist, admiring the art. So yeah, not sure you're schtick, but I'm not the creepy hombre you pegged me out for." he assured her, clearly still on the fence from her comment.

Blaise let out a short laugh, his expression hard but still somehow soft, "How do you think I feel." he admitted rubbing his left temple. "Honestly, I think this may be my last semester doing this whole professor madness." he admitted a shocked look on his face as he realized he just shared something with a stranger he still didn’t share with his own close circle. "Man, coffee shops really are therapeutic.." he winced feeling somewhat embarrassed for being so open.

Task 06 - Character Inspiration for our very own, Blaise Jerry Jones JR.

 @codinspo​

Dean Winchester:  (Supernatural) 

"I don't care what happens to me. I never really have. But I do care about what happens to my brother.” ∆ “I swear the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm going to start throwing punches.”

Rick Grimes: (The Walking Dead)

“Never let your guard down” ∆ “We know what needs to be done and we do it. We're the ones who live.”

Tenth Doctor: (Doctor Who)

“The man who keeps running” ∆ "For once I would like to know where I'm going." 

Westley: (The Princess Bride)

“As you wish." ∆ "Life is pain." ∆ "Get used to disappointment."

Jon Snow: (Game of Thrones)

“When enough people make false promises, words stop meaning anything. Then there are no more answers, only better and better lies.” ∆ “Can a man still be brave if he is afraid?”

Mr. Darcy: (Pride & Prejudice)

Blaise being a peach and helping a young fan get recognition who is a barista by day and artist at night. Method to his madness.

As her fingers touched his knuckles, a rush of heat ran up his arm and through his body despite how cold her fingers were. How could someone manage such a reaction from him with such a small gesture? How could she be so cold to the touch yet somehow manage to send a jolt of heat through his body? For a moment he swore he could hear his pulse speeding up. Has it been that long since his skin knew a woman's touch, no, don't be foolish Blaise. He quietly thought to himself, trying to remove all the scenarios and what-ifs that now spun in his head: goosebumps, rose petals, passion, butterflies, the discovery of ochre blooming into the colour red. No, none of these things had room in his world. He was incapable of feeding into the blood sport of loving another individual, even if deep down his spirit yearned for it.

His eyes looked at her pampered fingers touching his bruised knuckles as she began to speak, responding back to his analysis of the painting. His eyes now followed the sound of her voice and he watched her expression as she responded to him, giving her insight with the confidence she once lacked when he met her long ago. He felt so proud of how far she'd come compared to the version of herself he knew before she broke through the walls that held her back. As he opened his mouth to speak, a member of The MoMa approached the two taking away Blaise's concentration from Larissa. "I'm sorry you two but we're closing up no-" the gentleman disturbing the two immediately recognized Blaise and Lara and apologized in an instant. "I- I am SO sorry." he exclaimed with a small bow to the two. "I think I can get you 20 more minutes if you need it." he nervously offered clearly a fan of the two. "What's your name?" Blaise questioned with a small smile upon his face. "Gregory sir." the younger male responded, his dark raven hair clean cut and a slight mid-western accent in his voice. "Greg, awesome name, listen there's no need to be sorry - we'll be on our way, just give us 5 minutes more to admire this area and we shall be on our way." he winked his southern accent now heavy as he spoke with the younger fan. Gregory without hesitation, scurried away, probably on his way to rush and gloat about being in the presences of actress Larissa Thornton and artist Blaise Jones. This sort of attention never became easier for Blaise but he learned how to make it work, how to never offend or reject away an admirer.

With a single move, Blaise turned to face the blonde New York native and his face was back to his pained expression. It was quite bizarre how vulnerable he was with her, he hated it. "Look, Larissa." he sighed in frustration, battling his mind for the right words to deliver to her. "I'm, I just- I just want to say, I'm really proud of your progress." he mumbled almost as if he was unsure of his own right to critique her progress, after all who was he, God? No, but here he was, trying ever so hard to give her the praise she deserved. "I'm not very good at this." he admitted in defeat. "But I just wanted to know, you make me very, happy proud." he admitted the once bustling museum now ever so silent. 

Taking her time, she was met with a voice, briefly pulling her from her hypnosis. She took a step back, the entirety of painting as a whole lining up and she smiled. It wasn’t any of her business. She didn’t tread in fear of overstepping boundaries, but instead crossed her arms, nodding.

“She really is,” she remarked, pressing her lips together. A sidelong gaze to the individual beside her before panning back to the painting. “I’d ask if you were the artist, but that felt a little too on the nose.”

"I'm actually not the artist." Blaise replied flatly, little to no emotion in his voice. "The artist is Marie-Denise Lemoine, she was brilliant at painting portraits, it was something she was incredibly gifted in. He turned to look at the blonde woman, he recognized her immediately and chuckled, did you come here to buy another wing?" he asked a slight annoyance in his tone.

She had found herself reading on a painting of a young girl when a man approached right next to her, calling out to the painting. Stranger things had occurred in the city and Hannah decided to roll with it. “Haven’t seen her in some time I presume?” she smiled looking over towards the man before looking back at the piece of art on the wall. “I have a sense that she’s tired of being called beautiful and would rather like to be kept to herself and not the amusement of man,” the Golding commented.

As Blaise turned to get a look at who was speaking he arched his right eyebrow in disbelief at the woman's comment, "Excuse me?" he questioned unsure if he was hearing correctly. Blaise knew he could be a bit melodramatic when he was in his Lily-deprived mode, but this girl was definitely giving him some bitchy vibes, or so at least he thought. "What are you assuming?" he questioned, wondering if she was under the impression Blaise was some pervy weirdo getting off on paintings of young women.

"Well aren't I lucky to be in your presence of approval for a pizzeria." he joked sarcastically pulling out his keys from his pocket as the two began walking towards the door to head out. "Besides, I'm sure its not that weird to picture me with your mother, I mean, she's an adult woman isn't she." he joked, purposely trying to make her uncomfortable. "Do you want to Uber to Brooklyn or catch the train?" he asked pulling out his phone as he checked the time.

Blaise was far too lost in his own world, his dark thoughts and pained history that he worked so hard to store deep into the back of his head, now up and present taking the show; taunting and haunting him, or so they thought. There was someone present in the room that held a slight upper hand in the darkness that Blaise had deep within him, Lara. As his mind continued to wander into the deep trance he was in, Blaise felt a soft touch on his shoulder brought on by a small hand, it lingered onto him finding its place like paint on canvas. Blaise was stunned for a moment, was he imagining his sister's playful sweet touch? Did he miss her that much? Was he hallucinating again? No, he couldn't be, he was sober. He remembered how she'd always just quietly creep up on him and place her tiny hands on his broad shoulders, was this what the doctor ordered? A friendly visit from Lily the friendly ghost? No, don't be stupid, it can't be, he thought quietly to himself. He wanted to pretend a little bit longer that it was his sister but curiosity was getting the best out of him as the touch continued to feel familiar to him. 

Blaise, a pretty tall fella, standing at 6'2 could feel the hand trying its hardest to hold tight and firm, was this person tippy-toeing? He instantly could tell the hand belonged to someone a little taller than his sister, but still someone shorter than he. Turning to look over and see who was standing besides him, his hard eyes softened just a bit, Lara. He exhaled softly at her questioned and turned over to stare back at the painting with her, "I believe, I believe she is painting the one thing she believes to be the purest form of human connection between two individuals, love, soulmates even." he shrugged shaking his head as he repeated word for word his sisters response. A few years before today this was a similar conversation shared between him and his sister and these were her exact words. Mimicking, word for word, and now action for action, Blaise raised his left arm, for if he raised his right it would move her hand on his shoulder, and as much as he hated to admit it, he didn't want her grasp to loosen on him. Pointing out towards the backdrop of the painting, Blaise pointed our a couple in the back, "See that there, look closely, it's what some believe is a couple. It's hard to make them out, but that's the scale of the painting between our main subject and the two lovebird in the back - however, some would say its the couple who is our subject, for they are her subject." Blaise went on to explain, the love for what he does clearly in his voice.

"You're absolutely right buddy, so stay passionate, that passion will take you far. I mean just look at me. I use to be an absolute jocky brat and now I am not only a respect professor but artist. It can happen to you too kid, believe me." Blaise encouraged patting the younger mans back. As the two gentleman followed the security's orders walking towards the exist Blaise laughed the corners of his eye squinting, crows feet slightly visible. "Ah come one, it's not that weird, its a skill. It has taken many failed attempts for me to be able to do that." Blaise smirked wiggling his eyebrows, "I've embarrassed myself on a lot of dates with the ladies." he shared his tone making it incredible hard to tell if he was being serious or not, unfortunately he was.

Blaise listened as the red head went on, her newspaper making a light tap as she placed it down onto the rundown table, sharing her frustration and need to take it out on the small inconvenience. "Hm, I know what that's like- the anger that is. Do you need to vent it out or should I hand you some of these papers I have to grade which you could easily take your anger out on. I mean honestly, the spelling and grammar errors I run into, they make my blood boil" he laughed trying to lighten the mood.

Blaise was beginning to find this entire interaction to be hilarious, definitely something eh'd have to bring up again in a story someday. Shrugging lightly and looking over to the stranger as he spoke now, "I guess, it comforts me to talk to the painting - I mean, I think I was talking more to myself, but who knows, maybe subconsciously I was talking to the painting as well. I don't know, humans are fucking idiots, I'm an idiot." he laughed, his laughter now booming. "Oh come on, you totally know lilies, you know lilies, they grow from the ground, come in all shapes, comeee on mannnn, lillies." he laughed now sort of getting a kick out of messing with the under the influence gentleman.