johnny_quarter

14 March; Liev Schreiber and Johnny Depp; Lucid Dreams Theatre; PG

2007-03-15T03:06:47Z

[crossposted to liev_quarter and johnny_quarter]

Johnny was wandering aimlessly, the school day over and nothing really artistic coming to mind for a change. New Orleans was starting to warm up, and for this he was thankful--soon there'd be tourists to paint and busk for again, assuming all the rising crime rates lately didn't scare them away. As he walked, he took random turns, not really paying attention to the direction he was walking but trusting his feet to keep him from straying too far, and was surprised when he came across the facade of a theatre.

"Lucid Dreams..." he muttered to himself, smiling when he remembered the strange encounter a couple of months ago with the man at the bar. The theatre's owner, if he remembered correctly.

Johnny stood outside for a few minutes, unsure whether to go in. They'd left things fairly friendly, and he'd enjoyed hanging out with Liev in his apartment even though things hadn't gone quite according to plan, but he knew not everyone was as laid-back and flexible as himself, and maybe the fact that Liev hadn't called meant that he wasn't really interested in a friendship with a stranger he'd met in a bar under odd circumstances. Still, the worst the man could do was ask him to leave, and Johnny figured there was a good chance Liev simply felt guilty or embarassed about how things had gone down. Making up his mind, he stepped inside the front doors of the theatre and tried one hallway, coming to a dead end and then taking a turn when he thought he heard a voice. "Bingo," he whispered to himself with a smile when he kept walking and realised the voice was a familiar one, on the phone from the sound of it.

Poking his head around the doorframe, Johnny raised his hand in a wave, smiling and then stepping back to let Liev finish his phone conversation.

Liev nodded to himself as he jotted something down that the person on the phone had said. For the last hour he'd been calling up the people that supplied concessions to the theater, making some new orders to help restock the concessions stand and was thankfully on the last call. As he finished writing down the change in cost to his account Liev looked up in time just to see someone wave from the doorway. Expecting it to be Mark, Liev froze a second when he saw exactly who it was. When the inital shock wore off Liev returned the smile and shook himself into finishing up the conversation. Jotting down the delivery date Liev hung up the phone and took a breath before getting up from his desk. "Well, you're certainly not who I expected to see," he said when he walked over to the door to greet Johnny, not sure what else to say really.

"Sorry man," Johnny replied with a smile, interpreting Liev's surprised look as a not-quite-welcome and extending his hand in at least some semblence of politesse. "Maybe I shouldn't have, but I ended up across the street from the theatre and I figured it was fate, might as well say hello. I can go if I'm interrupting..."

Liev shook his head and took Johnny's hand. "No, not at all." Realizing he probably wasn't going about this the right way Liev looked down and laughed a bit at himself. "Sorry, I didn't mean that the way it probably sounded. It's fine you stopped in."

"It's all right," Johnny replied quickly. "I know you probably didn't expect to see me showing up in your office. Things been going okay, though?" Better than that night? he meant, but didn't say. He figured Liev would get the implication.

At the question Liev nodded and gestured for Johnny to come into his office. "Yeah, things are going better. Giving things another go."

"With the boyfriend?" Johnny asked, remembering the vague clues Liev had given him the last time as he stepped inside and looked around. "That's great. Congratulations."

"Yeah, the boyfriend," Liev said and picked up a few things off the chair meant for guests and set it aside so Johnny could sit down. "Thanks. Things aren't perfect but better."

"Well better is better than not good," Johnny reasoned, taking a seat Indian-style in the chair. "Was a tad bit worried about you after the last time. Hope he's treating you better than before."

Liev smiled when Johnny sat down and leaned against the edge of his desk to keep from putting a barrier between them. For any other stranger Liev would have thought it odd that someone was worried about him from a drunken meeting, but with Johnny it somehow seemed to ring a bit more genuine. "He is. We're working on things. How are you doing?"

"Good. I'm doing all right. Hit a bit of an artistic lull, but it happens to the best of us. I'm trying to get out of the apartment more, you know, went to Mardi Gras and all that hoping to come up with some ideas. Better than sitting inside listening to the news and getting depressed by all the murders," he reasoned with a roll of his eyes. "We've had some parents pull their kids out of school and move recently because of it, if you can believe that. Like New Orleans hasn't always been the so-called 'murder capital.'"

"That seems silly to pull kids out of school just because of that." Liev shook his head, pulling up things he'd been hearing in passing as well. "I can understand if you lived in an area that's getting hit like that but just to because of fear seems a bit drastic. Especially if you toughed it out this long."

"We have a lot of different kids, from different backgrounds," Johnny explained with a shrug. "Most of them I don't really give a shit about, I mean, off the record. But every year you get a few you really want to give a push in the right direction. Especially teaching art and music, I tend to connect with the 'weird' kids who aren't all that respected by their peers. I certainly know the feeling, too. I guess I just want to give them the chance to maybe make it through school where I didn't, but in the end that's their call. Doesn't help if the parents are shunting them all over the country, though."

"I give you props for trying. As much as I try and help people out here I've never been very good with kids." Liev laughed and shiftes something on the desk behind him so he could sit on the edge instead of just lean against it. "I agree though that trekking kids all over the country isn't bound to help them in any manner."

"Well these 'kids' are all at least fourteen, mind," Johnny pointed out with a grin. "You've probably got it worse, though, if you've got kids in your productions. Can we say stage moms?" he teased, pulling a face.

"Oh I think the youngest I've ever let in a production was sixteen," Liev said and held his hands up in defense almost. "I can't imagine having someone younger, although I have had a few stage moms hanging around all the time. Worried about the adults doing something corrupting to their children."

"Well you know those theatre types," Johnny joked with a fake leer. "It's all homosexuality, drugs, and nudity for you deviants."

Liev looked up in thought. "Check, not usually, and check." He laughed and gave Johnny a more honest smile. "Yeah, I know what the assumptions are, have run into some of the stereotypes myself actually."

Johnny laughed out loud at Liev's checklist. "I think I'd score a check mark in all three columns, but not 24/7. Well, maybe on the first," he amended, rolling his eyes at himself. "Stereotypes tend to have a grain of truth in them, though usually only that. Some of my favourite people have been 'theatre types,' though."

"I haven't done the second as often as I used to when I was younger. Used to all the time but kind of grew into the other two more as I aged." Liev grinned and tiled his head to the side to give Johnny a critical look over. "You having favorite theater types? Naw...never would have been able to peg that."

"Oh, I'm just a bundle of mysteries, I assure you," Johnny joked. "I think my mother for one is probably glad that I've mellowed as I've gotten older, though. I used to be a regular rebel without a cause... on a bike, no less. But these days yeah, sex is probably up there with the worst things I'm doing and even that not so often. I'm practically an establishment type."

"Now I know you're unique." Liev stretched his legs out and couldn't help but repeat that line in his head. Sex is probably up there with the worst things I'm doing. "Have to admit that I've never thought of sex as being bad, unless I think of sex with a woman since that's not my cup of tea."

"Okay, well maybe not bad per se, just up there on the list of things parents would prefer their children not be doing," Johnny amended. "And vice versa, as I prefer to assume that I was immaculately conceived."

"Well there is that." Liev thought back a bit to some of his more questionable relationships and could just imagine what his parents or his lovers' parents would have done. "Actually can see that a bit too well."

Johnny laughed. "Well we all have our moments. So what play are y'all running now? Maybe I should come back sometime and watch."

"My assistant's running a production that some of his friends wrote. Kind of quirky humor; it's his first time directing, though." Liev looked back on his desk at the calendar. "Will be running near the end of March if you want to come to it."

"I'll put it on my to-do list, then. I like quirky humour, even if it is a bit rough around the edges," Johnny replied with a smile.

Liev grinned and nodded his head. "Good, I know that they can use the ego booster."

"Well anything's better than the high school productions, I'd imagine. Our drama department, um... needs some work."

"That's too bad to hear, although not unexpected." Personally when Liev had gone to high school he hadn't gotten into theater, it was fairly boring and kind of stupid. It always amused him now considering his profession. "I use to hate the theater."

"Yeah? What did you want to be when you grew up, then?" Johnny asked.

"Used to want to be a writer," Liev shrugged his shoudlers when he got quiet. "It seems weird now but I liked writing things down all the time and thought it would be cooler getting paid money for food and toys for doing what I did."

Johnny smiled at Liev's answer. "I like that," he replied, folding his hands under his chin and resting his elbows on his knees. "Things make so much sense when we're young... maybe it's better to go back to that simplicity than sweating all the small stuff."

"I'd love for that to happen. Just to kind of ignore everything and enjoy life." Liev sighed and looked over at Johnny, remembering all the art stuff in the other man's apartment. "I think you get that sometimes."

Johnny cocked his head to the side, considering. "I try to have that," he said finally. "I do my best to remember what's important, and to me that's creating and giving back... but a lot of the stuff I do is making up for some seriously lost time earlier in my life," he admitted. "It's never too late to remember your dreams, though."

Liev nodded his head. "Very true. I try and do my part, writing plays here and there. But I've kind of put my heart and soul into this place now."

"Well there's no reason you can't do both, but I can see that. It must be great to have an actual physical space that you can really say is your creation."

"It's kind of a reminder to myself that while I might not be doing something grand that I am making a mark with my life." Liev laughed when he realized how he sounded and looked at the ground instead of Johnny. "Sorry, not usually this dramatic in my every day conversations. Although I think I'm speaking more then I was when we first met."

Johnny laughed, practically a giggle, and covered it with the back of his hand. "You're fine, Liev, don't worry about it. Besides, when we first met you were a little, erm, otherwise engaged. I don't blame you," he joked.

Even though Liev had processed what had happened between him and Johnny the joke still made his cheeks color a little. "I think that's definitely one way to put it."

"Don't worry," Johnny reassured the other man when he noticed his blush. "I'm perfectly capable of hands-free friendship." Grinning, he raised both palms in the air to illustrate his point.

"Never crossed my mind that you wouldn't be. How's your art selling been going? I do remember seeing a lot of finished things in your place, at least I think I did."

Johnny nodded. "You did. Less stuff sells when the weather's cold and I can't set up shop on the street. It's not really happening for me right now but I'm hoping to be back with it soon."

Liev nodded, knowing all too well how the weather could drastically effect sales of things like that, especially in the Quarter. "Do you just try and sell your work or do you do commission kind of stuff?"

"I do a little of both, and sometimes I create things just for me, or make something and then give it away. It all depends on how I'm feeling at the time. I do tend to need a bit of flexibility with commissions though--I'm not exactly a portrait painter."

Liev waved his hand and shook his head a bit. "That can get boring sometimes. Do you have a portfolio of some of the commissions you've done in the past?"

"Sometimes I take photographs of things I like before they're sold," Johnny replied. "I'm not much of a businessman though, to be honest. I'm not good at portfolios and that sort of thing. You should've seen me attempting to type up a resume when I needed one to get hired as a teacher."

"That's when you pay someone." Liev nodded and thought about some of the changes he was hoping to do around the theater. "I'd like to see anything you have pics of that you've done."

"Ha, if I could've afforded to pay someone to do my resume I wouldn't have needed a teaching job," Johnny pointed out. "But I could show you some pictures of my work, sure. Maybe we could meet for coffee sometime now that I've scared you to death by showing up in your office unannounced," he added with a smile.

Liev waved his had at the scaring him to death. "Not to death, as I'm still here," he paused and gave Johnny a smile. "Just wasn't quite something I expected. But yeah, that would work. I can always use a good dose of caffeine."

"Brilliant. How about you give me a call when you can spare a free hour sometime then? I'm free most weekends, and weekdays after three."

"Sure." Liev grinned and reached behind him to get a pen and paper to write Johnny's number on.

After Johnny recited his number, he bent over the desk and gave Liev a one-armed hug and a quick kiss goodbye on the cheek. "I'll see you soon, then. Have a good week."

A slump

2007-02-27T16:58:00Z

[private]

I guess all things considered, it's so far so good for the New Year, but I kind of wish I'd been a little more careful with money towards the end of the season in 2006. This is going to sound selfish, but that donation for AIDS month in December kind of killed me. There is only so much Ramen a man can take--when I went home for a weekend I found myself surrounded by female relatives who could not stop poking my stomach and telling me how thin I've gotten. No tourists this time of year really, and of course I was feeling completely uninspired during Mardi Gras--the one weekend in Febraury when I probably could have sold paintings on the street. Shit. Doesn't help that the school keeps being late on checks, but maybe things will turn around soon. Praying for a warm front.

27 December, 2006; Bar in French Quarter; Liev Schreiber, Johnny Depp; R

2006-12-28T03:52:18Z

[Crossposted to liev_quarter and our_quarter.]

Liev shifted on the stool he was sitting on, pleased that he didn't slide off it. He'd been sitting there for at least a half an hour and Liev couldn't remember if it was his third drink, or was it fourth? Logically, Liev knew the fact he'd been out drinking after work lately wasn't good, wasn't really him. But how often are you cheated on? Ahhh a bit. Sighing, Liev picked up his glass and took another drink. Once he set it down Liev looked around at the other patrons, noting the faces that hadn't been there when he first came in.

Johnny had been at the bar maybe half an hour, and was debating whether to go home or not. Not that there was much to do at home, though, and he was too tipsy to paint, or at least to paint well. Too late to play music without pissing the neighbours off, and so he stepped up to the bar for another in spite of himself. He didn't really like beer, so he was drinking Scotch, and it was probably only that fact that led him to converse with the perfect stranger sitting next to him while he waited for his drink. "Cold night out," he said, and immediately wanted to kick himself for the conversation starter.

It took Liev a moment before he realized that the man was talking to him. Looking over Liev gave him a brief smile. "Yeah, kind of usual for December I think."

"I'm sorry," Johnny replied with a grin when he realized his stupidity had been noted. "I think my conversational skills decrease exponentially with these," he explained apologetically, nodding to the glass the barman passed to him.

Liev shook his head and gave the man a bit of a more honest smile. "No worries. I think that's the draw to bars. Forgetting the logical."

"Amen to that," Johnny agreed, extending his hand. "I'm Johnny, by the way."

Liev shook the other man's hand. "Liev."

"You from the neighbourhood? Don't think I've seen you here."

"Yeah, well, sort of." Liev laughed when he realized how he was babbling. "I've lived here for a long time, have been out of the bar scene for a bit though."

"Fair enough. I only loiter here in the wintertime, when it's too cold to do anything outside," Johnny reasoned. "Still better than sitting around the apartment, I guess."

"Definitely," Liev said and thought about how little he'd been home lately. "Getting out of the house is definitely a bonus, and if you get liquored up while doing it, great."

"Yes indeed," Johnny agreed. "So what do you do around here, when you're not imbibing that is?" he asked with a grin.

"Act a bit, write..." Liev shrugged a little at that and then laughed. "I run the Lucid Dreams Theater." Looking Johnny over Liev leaned a bit against the bar and gestured for another drink for himself. "What about you?"

"Oh, I've seen it but never seen a show I'm afraid," Johnny replied. "I'm an artist and a musician, but to pay the bills I teach high school. Not exactly the most appropriate of teachers, but it works," he joked as he took another sip of his whisky.

"You'll have to come buy in the spring if you're an artist. Usually do more artistic stuff then." Liev laughed a bit when he thought of the man by him teaching. "Teaching, sounds like a good profession."

"I'll definitely try to make it. And teaching's fine I guess, though I have less and less hope for the youth of America the more I do it. Still, you get some good kids, the ones whose parents don't give a fuck about them mostly. It's nice to have a positive influence," Johnny assessed.

"I see some of those kids at auditions for the theater." Liev took a drink from his glass and nodded lightly. "If you're a bit unconventional that can be a good thing."

"I certainly never was very conventional myself," Johnny replied. "Though I was more interested in fucking guys twice my age and riding all over the damned country on my motorcycle than going to theatre auditions," he admitted, an admission that in many situations would probably get him killed but the alcohol had loosened his tongue.

"Motorcycles huh?" Liev asked and looked Johnny over again. "Nothing wrong with that if it's the thing you wanted to do. Acting is rather overrated any ways, can be a way to get money but yeah."

Johnny noticed how Liev commented on the motorcycles, rather than the fucking. Well, that was interesting. "I've always enjoyed the theatre when I could afford it, but it's not my thing. I much prefer visual art, it's just more... visceral to me. Closer to the surface emotions. I couldn't work from a script, you know? It's about what's in the moment."

"I used to want to be an artist more than acting, but I was never good at it," Liev said and watched the way the other man seemed to get lost as he talked about his art. "Acting is a release, gets me to let go of myself a bit in real life."

"Mm, sounds nice," Johnny replied, licking his lips unconsciously. "My art is almost too much of myself these days, I'll admit. Leaves me feeling very vulnerable sometimes."

"Feel too open?" Liev asked and turned his stool a bit more so he could watch more of Johnny than the bar. "Must be interesting art though."

Johnny smiled and shrugged. "It varies, you know, some so abstract you'd think I was crazy for feeling that way about it, and some more concrete. The piece that was most representative of myself I sold recently to a man who has more use for it than I do. That's the way it goes sometimes."

"Hey, money for art is always a major plus." Liev noticed the man's drink running low and gestured to it. "Do you want another?"

Johnny thought for a moment. Correct answer would be no... "Sure, why not?"

Liev smiled and called the bartender over, asking him to get Johnny another drink and put it on his tab. With that done Liev turned back to the other man. "Figure I can help with getting someone else a bit tipsy instead of just myself."

"Well much obliged to you," Johnny replied with a smile. "I actually can't remember the last time I was drunk, but don't tell the artistic community. They'll have my reputation destroyed," he joked.

Liev laughed at that, not really focusing on how often he'd been drunk as of late. Not always completely drunk but at least healthily buzzed. "You're secret's safe with me."

"You know, it's funny how when you're young you have this image of yourself as an adult as being devastatingly cool and so unlike your parents, and then you grow up and realize that partying all the time isn't all it's cracked up to be," Johnny mused as he took a sip of his drink.
- Show quoted text -

"Yeah, or when you first get out on your own, you kind of think it'll be this hugely fun thing." Liev shook his head and took another drink from his glass, as ironic as it seemed.

"Something like that. But God, I'm sorry, what am I doing wallowing like this when an attractive man just bought me a drink? I'm clearly out of practice," Johnny teased with a smile meant to be non-threatening as possible, in case he wasn't reading the situation wrong.

Liev felt his cheeks color a bit at that, especially coming from a stranger. He'd grown used to hearing things like that from Viggo...but he's not really here anymore is he? Smiling Liev shook his head a bit. "I'm out of practice too," he admitted after a long moment.

Johnny grinned and held his glass out, clinking it to Liev's. "To practice, then," he suggested with a soft smile and just a hint of mischief in his eyes before he took a sip.

"To practice," Liev echoed and drank to that salute. Looking briefly between his drink and Johnny.

Johnny watched the curve Liev's throat as he took a swallow, and wondered in the fuzzy recesses of his brain, with impeccable drunk-logic, what would be the best way to coax him into a kiss, maybe a bit more. They drank in silence for a moment, and when the glasses were near empty, he spoke again. "Want to get some air, maybe? Getting a bit smoky in here..."

Liev looked around the bar and had to agree that it was starting to get smokier. Actually Liev was surprised to see that the bar had gotten busier while he'd been talking to the man. He thought about the offer and nodded his head, knowing he'd need something to sober him up a bit before he could even attempt to walk back to his apartment. "Yeah, air might be a good thing," Liev said, focusing on Johnny again.

"Excellent." Johnny finished his drink in one long swallow and set the glass down on the bar, heading towards the door with Liev behind him. The air outside was cool but not freezing, and the street was relatively quiet. There was a ledge sticking out from the building to one side, and Johnny hopped up to sit on it, patting the concrete next to him.

Liev took in a few deep breaths, trying to clear his head and adjust to the change in noise level when they got outside. For the most part he was walking fairly straight and Liev was thankful for that. When Johnny patted the ledge he moved over and hopped up onto the ledge next to him. "I'm surprised it's not as cold as it could be."

"Don't like the weather, stick around a few days. It'll change." Johnny recited one of his mother's favourite Southern sayings by heart with a smile on his face. "Global warming, maybe... fuck if I know, but it's better than snow all the time. Does it snow where you're from?" he asked, brain jumping around a little as the drink worked it's way further into his bloodstream.

"I like the sound of that." Liev rubbed his hands down his thighs slightly and shook his head. "It'd snow a bit, but not all that much."

Johnny's eyes unconsciously followed Liev's hands, and he licked his lips without thinking about it as he imagined the strength of the thigh muscles underneath Liev's trousers. You're drunk, he reminded himself, but he was sorely tempted. "Sometimes snow's nice... curling up in front of a fireplace and all that... but I prefer things hot," he said, completely missing the double entendre in his state.

Liev looked over at Johnny at that, just catching the other man licking his lips. What are you doing? Focusing on his lips Liev nodded. "I always like hot instead of cold. Not into layering up all that much."

"Yeah," Johnny agreed, a smile coming to his face when he caught where Liev's eyes were focused. "Less is more..." And with that he leaned in, slowly, wanting to give the other man a chance to stop him before gently pressing his lips to Liev's.

Liev almost pulled back right away but stopped when he felt the other man's lips against his. Free agent. Ignoring his thoughts Liev pressed his lips back against Johnny's, a bit tentative at first before getting a little more confident.

Johnny smiled against the other man's mouth, not in a hurry, slowly letting his hand come up to stroke Liev's hair as he became a move active participant. He sensed a bit of hesitation, and didn't want to scare the man off, but his lips were warm and tasted of whisky and the buzz Johnny was riding made him eager.

Liev relaxed a bit when he felt Johnny's hand in his hair. The touch was unfamiliar but the gesture wasn't and Liev could feel his heart racing. Shifting a bit Liev let his lips part just enough he could suck lightly at the other man's lower lip.

Johnny moaned lightly, closer to a sigh, when he felt Liev take more of a lead, and his fingers tightened ever so slightly in Liev's hair as his hand rested on the man's thigh. He wasn't going to be presumptuous--not yet, anyway--but the kiss was quite nice and he was content to relax into it.

Riding a bike. The thought barely flittered over Liev's thoughts when he felt Johnny's hand move over his thigh. Trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach Liev let his tongue just barely move out to slide along Johnny's lower lip.

Again, Johnny schooled his reactions so as not to startle the other man, but the sensation of Liev licking his lip was lovely, and it had been so long. Johnny's hand moved from Liev's hair to caress his cheek instead, his finger's brushing lightly over Liev's ear in the process.

Liev couldn't stop from moaning when he felt the touch along his cheek. It had been weeks since Viggo had touched him like this. Viggo's gone remember? Pushing that aside Liev leaned in a bit more, dipping his tongue into Johnny's mouth, tasting the other man's drink and a faint taste of cigarettes.

Johnny was encouraged by the little moan from Liev, and he licked greedily at the other man's mouth, his tongue dancing with Liev's as his hand tightened slightly on the man's thigh, inching higher but not enough yet to be considered inappropriate for a public sidewalk.

When Liev felt Johnny's hand move higher he groaned again. The butterflies were still there but the press of someone hot against him mixed with the booze made it easy for Liev to focus on the kiss instead of how it felt wrong. Tastes too different. Reaching a tentative hand over Liev brushed his hand against Johnny's.

Johnny smiled inwardly and turned his hand briefly to squeeze Liev's, lacing his fingers with the other man's and stroking the back of his hand gently with a thumb before pulling his hand away again, letting it creep slightly higher as his other hand moved again to the back of Liev's head to hold him steady as he made the kiss deeper, more passionate.

Liev let Johnny lead the kiss, feeling his cock harden as the kiss heated up a bit. Moving his hand up a bit Liev let it just graze up the side of Johnny's thigh before resting on the other man's hip, suddenly not quite sure what to do with it.

Johnny scooted a little closer on the ledge, encouraging the other man, so that their legs pressed tightly against each other. Tugging a bit at Liev's lower lip, Johnny pulled back slightly, looking into the man's eyes again before he turned to nibble lightly on his ear.

Keeping his eyes closed Liev tilted his head to the side, giving Johnny a bit more room. When he finally opened them Liev wasn't quite as ready to see someone not Viggo up against him. You can do this, he did this. Kick starting himself a bit Liev finally moved his hand up Johnny's side, up around the man's shoulder, and finally stopped at the back of his head.

Encouraged by Liev's movements, tentative though they were, Johnny kept on what he was doing, kissing lightly down Liev's neck, sucking gently and pressing slightly with his teeth in spots. His thumb, still on the man's inner thigh, caressed gently back and forth, rubbing lightly through Liev's trousers.

Liev leaned into Johnny's body a bit more, his fingers working through the other man's hair. He let out a soft groan when he felt Johnny's lips pass over a sensitive spot on his neck. I love how you react when I kiss here. Closing his eyes at the memory Liev pulled his head back enough he could guide Johnny's head up away from his neck, bringing their lips together again.

Johnny wondered at the slight tension he felt in the muscles under his hands before the man brought their lips together again, but he brushed away the thought, too drunk to puzzle it out. Instead he kissed back greedily, his hands soothing as his lips devoured.

This time as they kissed Liev groaned into it, pushing his tongue into Johnny's mouth to taste him. Reaching down Liev guided Johnny's hand a bit higher, groaning when he felt the pressure against his cock.

Johnny grinned against Liev's lips when the man made that move, and pressed his palm down firmly, taking his action as permission. He kissed Liev hungrily for a moment, his hand kneading gently, until he realized that they were after all in public, drunk or not, and he didn't fancy getting arrested at the moment. "Come back to my place?" he asked when he pulled away, feeling Liev's breath warm against his lips. "It's not far."

Liev took a deep breath when Johnny pulled back. It took him a minute to realize that Johnny had just invited him back to his place. Considering the caress against his cock Liev nodded his head, ignoring how hard his heart was pounding. Been weeks, you need this, something uncomplicated.

When Liev nodded, Johnny stood, reluctantly removing his hand and instead taking Liev's own, pulling him up from the ledge and leading the way down the sidewalk towards his studio. The buzz was starting to wear off, but there was still enough for him to do this without question, take a stranger home to his apartment. At least he didn't seem like an axe murderer.

Liev followed Johnny, looking down at their joined hands as they walked. The slight chill to the air helped clear up some of Liev's head but unfortunately didn't do much for the state of his arousal. Rolling his neck Liev swallowed again, tightening his fingers against Johnny's.

"Y'all right?" Johnny asked, giving Liev's hand a squeeze in return as they neared his block.

"Yeah, I think," Liev said and looked over at Johnny. Looking him over Liev shook his head. "Been...awhile," he added trying to make up a reason why his stomach was starting to tighten up a bit.

"Oh," Johnny replied with a sympathetic smile. "Know the feeling. Here, this is me," he offered, showing Liev the staircase as he dug in his pocket for the key.

Liev looked at the staircase and nodded. At first he wasn't sure which he was nodding to, the fact that Johnny wasn't use to this either or the fact that he needed to go in. Rubbing his palms over his jeans Liev nodded again.

Johnny frowned, seeing the other man's discomfort, and let himself into the apartment, gesturing Liev to follow. It was a tiny space, cluttered with art and clothing and books, and the only place to sit was the bed, which he cleared off with a quick sweep of his arm, pushing the sheets up in a comic attempt at bed-making that was rather pointless anyway if things went according to plan. Though, Johnny could tell Liev was nervous and he didn't want to push. "Can I get you anything? Wine? I guess that might not be the best idea," he added with a little laugh.

Liev looked at the art scattered around Johnny's apartment before looking over at the bed. "Umm, do you have a beer? Not that I need more alcohol but might help with the nerves."

Johnny frowned, then smiled and walked to the little kitchen area at one end of the room, leaning down to the fridge and taking out a beer for Liev and a bottle of water for himself. "You know, we don't have to," he offered. "If the idea is bothering so much." He sat next to Liev and handed the man his drink, careful not to make his tone sound too disappointed. He certainly didn't want to sleep with someone who was on the verge of freaking out about it.

Liev took the drink and felt his cheeks flush. "It's not that," Liev said and shook his head. Reaching over Liev stroked Johnny's thigh. Deciding it wouldn't hurt more then the way he was being hesitant Liev decided to go for it. "I'm gonna sound like a pity story but I just got out of a...thing."

"Ah," Johnny replied, nodding in understanding as he took a swig of his water, laying his hand atop Liev's in a comforting gesture and stroking gently. "Wanna talk about it, or are you trying to forget?" he asked, wanting to give the man either option. Not that drinking and fucking your way through your problems was a good idea, exactly, but he wasn't going to talk the man out of it if that was what he wanted.

"Been trying to forget," Liev said and took a long drink of the beer before setting it down. "As you can guess I'm sure." Liev looked over at Johnny and slid his hand down the other man's knee. "I don't want to be a tease. Maybe we could just keep it...light?"

"It's all right," Johnny offered, reaching up and carding his fingers through Liev's hair. "You haven't quite made it to 'tease' stage yet. Now if we had gotten much further outside the bar..." he teased, grinning as he leaned forward to press a kiss to Liev's jaw, having trouble resisting the man who was clearly distressed but also quite lovely and endearing.

Liev laughed, relaxing a bit more at the joke. "Mmm glad to know that," Liev said and stroked his hand along Johnny's thigh a bit more. Light, light I can do. Moving his fingers inward a bit more Liev tilted his head to catch Johnny's in a light kiss.

Johnny smiled and returned the kiss, though he pulled away before it got too heated. "Would you like a back rub?" he offered. "Might relax you a bit, take your mind off things. And to be honest, if I keep kissing you I'm going to want to touch you, and if I touch you I'm going to want to fuck you, and that's not exactly 'light,' you know," he joked, pressing one more kiss to Liev's lips.

Liev couldn't help but smile, it was nice that to know that he had an attraction effect on someone. "That sounds good, cause yeah, no tease," Liev said looking between Johnny's eyes and his lips before leaning back. "I'm sure this isn't what you planned when you offered for me to come over."

Johnny smiled and shook his head. "No, but it's fine. I'm a firm believer in karma, you know. Good deed here, good deed there, and you'll get what you need later in life. Here, roll over," he instructed, kicking off his shoes and kneeling up on the bed.

"I like your viewpoint," Liev said and did the same, toeing his shoes off before rolling onto his stomach.

"Life's too short to get hung up on things," Johnny reasoned, kneeling astride the other man's legs when he was in place and then digging his fingers firmly into the muscles of Liev's shoulders, massaging at length before continuing down his back.

Liev closed his eyes when he felt Johnny's fingers press against the knots that had been building up in his shoulders. Groaning Liev started looking around the room again. "Your work?" he asked stretching out a bit.

"Yeah," Johnny replied, looking at the pieces in Liev's line of sight. "I can't commit one project at a time... most of it isn't going to sell, though, it's just what I do."

"Mmm," Liev paused and laid his head down on his folded arms. "Maybe you can sell me one."

Johnny laughed lightly as he pushed his thumbs into the knots at either side of Liev's spine. "I should use this sales tactic more often. Relax my customers into generosity, I like it."

"I like art," Liev said in defense although his body was definitely liking the massage. "Although this could be a good closing note to a transaction."

"Fair enough," Johnny conceded with a smile. "You're welcome to take a look and see if anything catches your eye. Or if you're serious and nothing in particular appeals, I do commissions. Money goes to the AIDS Foundation, well, unless I really need a little extra to eat in a given month," he amended with a little grin.

Liev nodded and relaxed against the bed, resting his head more comfortably on his folded arms. "Maybe I'll take you up on both. Could do with something to hang up in the lobby of my theater."

"I do some abstract stuff from time to time, might work for you," Johnny suggested as he rubbed the man's lower back. "I've been getting more commissions from friends lately, which is a welcome change from all the damned tourist paintings I had to do over the summer."

"Tourist—good for the community, bad for the locals," Liev said and groaned when Johnny started massaging a tender spot. "Sorry this isn't turning out how you'd wanted."

"Well, this wasn't exactly how I'd expected to be getting noises out of you," Johnny joked good-naturedly, leaning down to place a brief kiss at the base of Liev's neck as he worked the spot Liev had reacted to thoroughly, "but seriously, don't worry about it. I'm happy to help a man in need, and it's not like I'd planned to get laid tonight. It's been a long enough dry spell that I'm used to it, and not unhappily," he explained.

Liev's eyes blinked shut at the kiss, the gesture was tender and it made the little voice in the back of Liev's head ask him why he was just getting a massage and not getting a real workout. Reaching back with one hand Liev stroked his hand up the side of Johnny's leg, well as best he could in the position. "If I was in a better frame of mind and hadn't been through the ringer the last week I'd definitely have helped with that dry spell thing."

Johnny smiled at the touch, but shrugged off Liev's words. "Really, don't worry about it. You're probably just not in the right place yet, you know? Give it a bit of time, and if you're still interested whenever you're feeling better, well you know where to find me."

"Or if I just want a good back rub," Liev added with a laugh, looking back at the artwork against the wall.

Johnny smiled at that, replying teasingly, "Hey, if you keep spotting me drinks I'll call it even."

"I think I could handle that in exchange for this. Could even buy you a bottle." Liev chuckled.

"Now you're talking," Johnny replied with a grin, patting Liev's back lightly and then rolling over to flop onto his own back next to the other man. "All done. Feel better?"

Liev stretched a bit so he could test his back before settling down on the bed again. "Wonderful," he said and looked over at Johnny. "Hadn't realized how tight I was."

"I just want you to know how good I'm being, refraining from a dirty comment on that," Johnny teased, his eyes closing as he folded his hands behind his head.

Liev laughed and rolled onto his stomach, giving Johnny a light poke in his side. "You're being very good."

Johnny grinned and then opened his eyes, turning to face Liev. "Seriously though, you gonna be all right, man? Anything I can do for you?"

Liev nodded. "I think so, I hope so, just...had someone I was with tell me he'd been with someone else." Liev shrugged a bit and rolled a bit closer to Johnny, watching the man's face before kissing his cheek.

"Ooh," Johnny replied, his face forming a sympathetic cringe. "That stings." Reaching up, he brushed Liev's cheek with his thumb, tracing down the man's chin. "For what it's worth, though I haven't known you long, I think he's a bloody fool. But then, I guess we all have our reasons."

Liev closed his eyes at the touch. "I appreciate that, although I think I added to things." Shaking his head Liev stroked his hand over Johnny's stomach. "I do have to admit you've given me a bit of an ego boost tonight."

Johnny purred slightly, an involuntary sound like a cat, when Liev stroked his stomach, and then smiled. "Glad I could do that at least, then. It'll get easier with time, you know."

"I know...all takes time." Liev rolled onto his back before pushing himself up. "I should go before I start teasing you again."

Johnny laughed but didn't stop the other man. "I'd invite you to stay, but I confess the alcohol is making me a bit sleepy at the moment. Here, I have a card around here somewhere," he offered, fishing around in the nightstand drawer. "You can give me a call if you're ever in the mood for a drink or a back rub or whatever."

Liev looked down at the card and nodded, slipping it into his back pocket. "I'll take you up on that." Before he completely pushed up from the bed Liev leaned over, giving Johnny a final kiss. "Sleep well Johnny."

"You too," Johnny replied, returning the kiss and then leaning back onto the pillows again, not planning to do much more than kick off his jeans before falling asleep. "Be safe."

9 December; Johnny Depp and Mia Kirshner; near the French Market; G

2006-12-09T23:15:58Z

[crossposted to our_quarter and mia_quarter

It wasn't freezing outside, not exactly, but it was pretty damned cold for New Orleans. What his mother would call "sweater weather," but Johnny hadn't been able to scrounge up a sweater amongst the piles of crap that decorated his studio. So today he wore a beaten-up leather jacket, holdover from his biking all over the country days, maybe the only tangible memory he had of those years other than a few photographs. His guitar wasn't holding tune very well due to the weather, but he didn't have quite enough for this month's rent yet after the big donation he'd made on the first for National AIDS Awareness, so he was playing on his corner near the market to make a little extra, depending on the charity of the locals now that tourist season was over.

Mia was walking down the street, not really sure where she was going but she was just glad to be out of the house. The air was cold enough that she was sure her fingers would be numb if it wasn't for the gloves she wore but not nearly as cold as she knew it could be. Looking in the windows of the shops she passed Mia stopped when she heard the sound of music a few shops away, live music from the sound of it. In this weather? Mia ignored the shops she was walking past and instead stopped a few feet away from where the cause of the music was sitting, strumming on a guitar.

His guitar case rather devoid of change, excepting the contributions of a few sympathetic passersby, Johnny was getting bored. He decided to play something that he actually felt like playing, namely a Jeff Buckley tune. Okay, so "Lover You Should Have Come Over" wasn't exactly standard busking fare, but it was one of his favourites. As he sang, he smiled at the girl who has stopped nearby, ostensibly to listen, and nodded in her direction.

When the man looked at her Mia smiled back at him. She was a bit surprised by how quickly people were walking past the man instead of stopping to listen for even a bit. Even with the chill or the holidays Mia couldn't imagine just ignoring the person was there all together. Taking a few steps closer Mia thought over what she had left over from working at the bar this week, adding a few numbers up in her head before figuring how much she'd put in the case when he was done with the song.

When he finished singing, Johnny reached for the tuning pegs again, smiling when he saw that the young woman was still there. "Any requests, ma'am? I think you're the only person today who's actually stopped to listen," he admitted with a little shrug. "Guess it's a bit cold out for music.'

"Cold and people don't know rushing through life doesn't help," Mia added and took one of her gloves off so she could actually get into her pocket to get her wallet. "I don't know much on requests, play whatever you usually would."

Johnny smiled and nodded in thanks when he saw her take her wallet out. "That's my philosophy entirely--it's a beautiful world we live in, you know? Why hurry?" With that he got an idea, and grinned as he started into a sweet little love song he'd heard recently. "This is the first day of my life, I think I was blind before I met you. And now I don't care I could go anywhere with you--and probably be happy."

When the man started playing again Mia smiled and pulled out half of the tips she'd gotten herself a few nights ago. Dropping the bills into his case Mia put her wallet back in her pocket and slipped her glove on, leaning against the side of the building to listen to him.

When Johnny finished the song--or rather, when he got to a point where he knew no more verses, he stopped and looked up at her. "You sure about that? Normal contribution is a quarter," he joked.

"I'm sure," Mia said, not even bothering to look at the bills she'd left. "I know how it is to try and perform to get someone to give you a bit extra for your pocket."

Johnny smiled at that. "Well, you can be assured it's for a good cause at least, ma'am. Everything that isn't going for food or rent always goes to charity. You're a performer, then?"

"If it helps someone it's always for a good cause." Mia shook her head when the man asked if she was a performer. "I'm a barista, before that was a waitress, basically a pretty monkey that brings people food. I wish I was a performer."

Johnny snorted at that. "I don't know, sometimes I feel a bit like a 'pretty monkey' during the tourist season. I put up a little sign that says all money goes to the AIDS foundation, hoping to get some sympathetic souls, and a lot of times instead I've gotten kids coming by offering five bucks for ten minutes in an alleyway. Just slightly degrading."

"Hate to say it but at least you're offered money for going in the alleyway." Mia gave the other man a smile to let him know she was partially kidding. Her time in Vegas had been… interesting. There had been a number of times she'd been hit on; many times people had said there had to be a back room she could take them in. None had ever offered her money for the things they always said they wanted to do to her. "Do you do other things or just play?"

"Oh, I'm a regular Renaissance man," Johnny teased, setting his guitar down for a second. "Aside from playing and getting propositioned by boys half my age, I also teach high school art and music, and I do art in my spare time as well, sometimes on the street for charity as well though usually only in the summertime."

Mia let out a low whistle and grinned at him. "That sounds great. Much better then running a coffee machine. I try and do art, keyword on the 'try'."

"Hey, trying is succeeding as far as I'm concerned. I mean, 'good' or 'bad' art is only subjective... though maybe I've been teaching far too long," Johnny mused with a smile. "Where do you run this coffee machine, then?"

Mia smiled at the way the man talked. He might be a teacher but he definitely had a way to make her feel at ease. "Over at Bayou Blues, little jazzy bar. For some reason they have a coffee bar and no one could run it."

"Oh, I know the place," Johnny replied. "I love jazz...didn't know they served coffee, though. How long have you been working there?"

"A few months give or take." Mia shrugged her shoulders a bit. "Honestly I didn't think the place did either 'til I went in to respond to the help wanted sign."

"It's been a while since I've been there. Sometimes I feel like I've lived in New Orleans forever, though it's not even quite ten years yet."

"I just got here not long ago." Mia lowered herself a bit so she was more at eye level with the other man. "Came from Vegas, so this is a bit of a change."

"Vegas, huh? I went through there once," Johnny remembered, his eyes darkening slightly as he remembered the trip, Vegas being one of the stops shortly before his best friend got sick. "Can't say I saw much of the town, though."

"Its nothing fancy really. Most places aren't." Mia noticed the way that the other man seemed to deflate a little. "What brought you here?"

"Well I was kind of aimless for a while, living with my brother and doing odd jobs and art stuff... I ended up teaching eventually and I came to New Orleans for a gig teaching ESL to French-speakers. I was tutoring French after school, and after a few years I got my GED and got a fulltime job at the school I'd be working with," Johnny explained. "So, here I am, still teaching the brats in my old age. What about yourself? Something tempting pull you away from Vegas?"

"You don't look that old to me," Mia said before she realized she'd said that out loud. When he turned the topic over to her she nodded her head. "Boyfriend got a fancy job, I came with him."

"Ah, very nice." Johnny grinned. "And I'm forty-three. That's old to you, I'm sure."

Mia shook her head. "My boyfriend is older then you I'm afraid."

"Really?" Johnny smiled and shook his head. "Well I guess that gives us middle-aged men hope, then," he joked. "Though I think at this point music and art are the only true loves I can fit into my life."

Mia laughed a bit at that. "Age is just how much experience you've had on the earth, nothing more." Looking down at the man's guitar Mia bit her lower lip before asking, "Do you show your work anywhere?"

"I haven't, no. Always thought I was a bit too blue collar for that," Johnny admitted. "Although, I did meet a guy a while ago who might be able to get me a gallery showing for some of my paintings."

"I'd like to see your work, if your playing is any indication." Mia knew if it wasn't as cold as it was she probably would be blushing a bit.

"Well thank you," Johnny replied with a little sitting bow. "My name's Johnny. Johnny Depp. I'll, erm, try to come by the Bayou Blues and let you know if I ever do get a show," he offered.

"I'd appreciate that Johnny," Mia said before shaking her head at her manners. "I'm Mia by the way."

"Lovely to meet you, Mia. I'm afraid I've gotta get back to this," he said apologetically, nodding at the guitar. "But thanks again for the contribution, and I'll be sure to stop in sometime after my next paycheck and sample your coffee-making skills."

"Sorry to keep you," she said and nodded her head. "Hope to see you again Johnny."

19 October; Johnny and Jude; Jefferson Centre for Science & Mathematics; PG

2006-10-20T00:41:50Z

[crossposted to jude_q and johnny_quarter]

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day...?"

Johnny grinned as he closed the door to the teacher's lounge behind him, seeing a familiar head of light-brown hair facing the opposite wall. "I hear you're doing Shakespeare for the 12th graders. If you actually get any 17 year-old boys to appreciate the bard, I'm giving you five dollars."

Turning in his seat, Jude rolled his eyes. "You have no idea what my students are capable of," he retorted, a grin lighting his face as he turned back to pick up his water and sip at it before popping a carrot stick in his mouth. "Some of those seventeen-year-olds are quite sensitive."

"Sensitive, right." Johnny rolled his eyes as he flopped down on the ratty couch, throwing his messenger's bag down on the floor. "You should see Ben Johnson's highly original sculpture of the male genitalia. Isn't he one of yours?"

"Oh, Lord, I can just imagine," Jude murmured. "Yeah, he's one of mine. What did he manage to do now?" The boy in question was one of their star football players and a player himself to boot. There was no telling what the boy was up to now.

"Well, I don't think I've ever seen anyone with quite so impressive proportions myself," Johnny explained with a grin as he rifled through his bag. "The assignment was to do some sort of self-portrait, in any medium, and the result was a bright red monstrosity of admittedly realistic style. He didn't seem too happy when I made a comment on the expression of desires in relation to the self, however."

Jude chuckled dryly and shook his head, staring down at the table in front of him. He glanced sideways over at Johnny, a sly smile lighting his face. "You've probably traumatized the boy for life. You realize this don't you?"

"Hey, even I didn't have the audacity to sculpt a giant penis at that age. I'm just pointing out the psychological implications of his actions," Johnny argued, though his expression was increasingly teasing.

"Oh, Lord," Jude retorted, laughing as he shook his head. "Did you actually tell him this n front of everyone? Or was this more of semi-private conference?"

"I walk around the class while they're working, and give everyone feedback... I'm pretty sure my voice was low enough not to be heard, but just between you and me I wouldn't worry too much if it was. Could do the poor kid some good... but probably would just put me one step closer to getting fired," Johnny reasoned.

Jude looked over at his friend sharply, knowing the truth to his words. While he was quietly gay and definitely in the closet, Johnny wasn't in the closet in any way. That didn't make some of the parents happy, scared as they were that he might 'entice' their sons into the depravity he practiced. It was enough to make Jude want to scream. It was also why he kept his own counsel where his preferences lay.

He met Johnny's gaze intently. "You don't need to give them any more reasons to be finding ways to get rid of you. Though, I would have paid to have seen his face when you told him that!"

Johnny shrugged. "You know I like it here, but I could go elsewhere. I'm not bound to teaching. In fact, I might be showing my work at some point. I talked to this guy... anyway, point is, I'm easy to please, and my standard of living isn't all that high, so I'll continue to teach the way I feel I should, and I suspect the kids who really want to do art or music will keep making sure I stay around. I feel sorry for you, though. I would hate to teach an actual required subject."

"It's not as bad as all that, you know," Jude retorted, smiling and shaking his head. "I happen to like Literature. And English, though you yanks have a screwed up English I have to tell you that!" He picked up a wrapper from his sandwich and tossed it at the other man. "What about this displaying of your work? Where at?"

"Oh, shut up. It's cultural accommodation, everyone does it," Johnny countered, picking up the wrapper and tossing it back. "And I don't know yet, but I was doing some charity work and I met this guy... he offered to get me some ins, and I might be doing a show. Who knows though, I never trust those rich types... but he seems genuine enough."

"Mate, I hope it works out for you," he retorted, smiling. "It would be great to go see your art exhibited and be able to tell people, 'hey, I know that guy!'" Jude grinned now at Johnny. "Speaking of, we've not gone down to the galleries in a while. You want to head down that way this weekend sometime?"

"Love to," Johnny replied, rolling his neck to get a cramp out. "As long as there aren't any openings. I have no desire to look at anything that might be considered presentable." He grinned at Jude as he stood and poured himself a Styrofoam cup of the shit the school passed off as coffee.

Smiling at Johnny, Jude shook his head at that. "How can you drink that sludge? I have some tea if you'd rather have that. Decaf too so you don't go bouncing off the walls, mate."

"And that's supposed to be a good thing?" Johnny grinned. "I'm supposed to be the manic artist; decaf would ruin my reputation. But thanks for the offer all the same."

"It's better for you, mate. Oh, I forgot, you southern boys enjoy clogging your arteries with fat and cholesterol and caffeine," Jude retorted, grinning broadly as he took a sip of his tea.

"Whatever," Johnny snorted. "There was this British pub in Algiers that I used to go to sometimes.. and if you don't think a fry-up for breakfast is artery- clogging, then I don't know what is."

Chuckling, Jude shook his head. "I can just imagine, believe me! Maybe we can make a day of it. I hear there is this killer pub in the French Quarter and we could even stop in at the French Market if we wanted to." And maybe I'll get a glimpse of Sean. Jude counseled himself against stupidity. There was nothing more than a casual meeting between him and the other man.

"I could go for that," Johnny agreed. "I love bumming around the market, whether I can actually find something I want and can afford or not."

"It's nice to just get out and enjoy the fresh air. And, I hear some of those places are offering samples on the weekend again." Jude waggled his brows. "We could fill up on those alone, you know, and never have to buy lunch!"

"You know I never turn down a free meal!" Johnny replied, laughing slightly. "Sometimes some sympathetic tourist will buy me a coffee or a sandwich when I'm busking or painting on the street. I guess they think I'm homeless or something, but hell, I don't mind!'

Jude chuckled at that, shaking his head in amusement. "A person would have to be insane to turn down free food! Perhaps I should start taking my classics down on the street and doing readings in hopes someone will buy me free food!"

"Hey, if it works, go for it! People will pay for anything these days," Johnny pointed out, shaking his head. "You wouldn't even need literature, you could probably read the 'authentic New Orleans phone book' and tourists would turn out in droves."

"Oh, Lord! I'm sure I could manage it. Just add a bit of the right inflection here and there!" He was grinning now. "Oh, and even better, I can recite it in time to your music! We could make a mint!"

"Jesus," Johnny groaned, shaking his head. "I think I'd rather sell my soul to the devil, thanks." He took a sip of his coffee, wrinkling his nose slightly, and then downed the whole cup. "Mm, lunch," he said sarcastically as he gathered his things together. "I've gotta head to orchestra practice, I'm afraid. Wish me luck corralling the masses and trying to create something that resembles music from the cacophony. Maybe I should just sell _them_ to the tourists."

"Only if I get a cut for coming up with the original idea!" he called out as his friend left the lounge, leaving him there alone once more, an indulgent smile on his face as he picked up his sandwiched and finished his lunch.

2 October 2006; Johnny and Cillian; Johnny's studio; PG

2006-10-02T17:29:05Z

October 2nd, 2006.
Cillian Murphy (prettycillian) and Johnny Depp (johnny_quarter). Domestic visit.
Johnny's studio/apartment; French Quarter.
PG.

Humming happily, Cillian arrived at Johnny's address with his customary basket filled with dinner in hand, a little cover over it to keep it warm. It was sort of a ritual; he showed up generally at least once a week to feed the man a nice, home cooked meal and brought enough for him to warm and eat on for the rest of the week. He also did some straightening, the dishes and laundry while he was there.

From the moment Cillian had met the man, he'd taken sort of a...mothering interest in him. It wasn't attraction or romantic at all, they were just friends and the relationship was rather odd, as he showed up, fed the man, flitted around doing this and that and then glided out much as he had come. Sometimes, it was like they were operating on two different planes while he was there, barely touching. Sometimes they didn’t even really converse.

The truth was though, Cillian enjoyed the visits--being able to care for someone, feel like he was making a difference. It was the same reason he enjoyed taking care of Eric. He smiled softly at the thought of his lover as he knocked on Johnny's door.

"Come in!" Johnny yelled, distractedly, at the knock. He was in the middle of a sculpting project, his foot powering the lathe with a pedal as his hands worked the rounded base. He had gotten the idea this morning, and had been working nonstop since, still in boxers and the paint-splattered t-shirt he had slept in, his hair in a hastily pulled-back ponytail.

When the door swung open, he could smell the home-cooked meal before Cillian even spoke, and didn't look up, just smiling to himself. "Hey, Cillie, just put it anywhere. I'll be with you in a moment, here." After all this time, he knew his gratitude was implied, and Cillian knew what he got like when he had an idea. Wouldn't eat, sleep, clean, or do anything really, as long as it was a weekend or summertime and he had no teaching to do.

"Hello darling," Cillian replied, taking the greeting in stride as he moved into the kitchen, tsking at the state of things. "You would just be buried under your mess if I didn't come, wouldn't you?" Even as he spoke, it wasn't really because he sought a response or anything to change; this was part of the dance, as it were.

Still tsking, he sat the basket down and set about clearing away trash and unnecessary things and gathering the dishes from around the place and getting them into the sink. Removing his rings and bracelet, he placed them in a little dish (that he himself had brought to the place) and started to run the dishwater. "Besides, I do like to see you creative, I know its part of what supports you..." he chattered on, reaching beneath the sink to get out the rubber gloves he used when washing dishes.

"Mmm hmm," Johnny agreed, distractedly, as he finished off the top of the piece and then slowly let up on the pedal, allowing the lathe to stop spinning before he stood and wiped the back of his hand across his face, streaking pale-coloured clay across his cheek.

"I'd starve without you, as you know," he said, smiling as he crossed the room and gave Cillian a friendly peck on the cheek before rooting through the basket. "Speaking of support, I made a rather hefty sale the other day. You know the painting with the two men, the white with the colourful background? I sold it to a man I met on the street doing charity work. As soon as I finish this sculpture and get a moment when my muses aren't attacking me, I'll take you out to dinner. You can get all dolled up if you like and we'll go out someplace nice," he suggested, thinking it'd be fun to take his friend out for a change. He did feel slightly guilty for all the work Cillian did around his apartment free of charge, even if it was something the other man liked.

Tsking at Johnny again, Cillian smiled. "You don't have to take me out to dinner, you know that. You should use that money for something else. I'm a simple girl; this makes me happy. Besides, I've met someone and he might object to another handsome man wining and dining me," he teased, winking at Johnny as he reached to turn off the water and start washing the dishes. They hadn’t really had a chance to talk about Eric before now.

"Have you really? Good for you!" Johnny exclaimed, grabbing a roll with a napkin and taking a bite. "Tell me about him," he requested, hopping up on the counter next to the sink and letting his legs dangle. "I can dry," he offered, grabbing a dishtowel (something else that Cillian had shown up with when he realised how lacking Johnny's apartment was in cleaning supplies) and waving it like a bullfighter.

Cillian sniggered softly at Johnny waving the towel, handing over dishes to him as they were washed. "His name is Eric," he said. "And he's a mechanic...and he's very tall and very handsome and I just adore him. I met him quite randomly at Lafitte's and he's just lovely!"

"Your knight in shining armour, it seems," Johnny replied with a playful smile as he dried a plate, careful to keep his dirty hands on only one side of the towel. "I just hope you're not planning to ride off into the sunset with him and leave me hungry and buried in my own mess," he said with a grin to let Cillian know he was only kidding.

"Never!" Cillian exclaimed, grinning. "I have a responsibility to take care of you now and I take it very seriously." He nodded solemnly, though the grin broke out again. "I won't abandon you, don't worry."

Johnny laughed at that. "Good. But I do need to meet this stud. Sounds like you're pretty head over heels, you know; you should have an objective judgment as well," he stated, nodding his head with a thoughtful look. "And I can give him the butch 'I'll beat you up if you ever hurt my friend' speech. Very important."

"Very," Cillian said with a serious nod. "And he's fabulous; I dare you to find a fault in him!" He sighed wistfully. "And he's so tall, makes me feel so tiny, in a good way..."

"That can come in handy, when sweeping you off your feet," Johnny suggested with a wink. "Hey, do you think he'd pose with you for me? You sound so happy...I love to have happiness as a subject, what with all the depressing art that's been coming out since the hurricane. Gotta get some hope out there, you know?"

"Ooooh I don't know, but I'm sure he would! You could do a portrait of us! I'd commission it...that is a brilliant idea, Johnny!" Cillian responded excitedly.

"Oh, please. No way, darlin'. I'd love to do it, and it's a favour to me. You're the inspiration, so no commission necessary. Just your lovely self and this hunk of a boyfriend you've managed to drum up. Maybe oils, you know, I haven't done anything in oils in a while. That could be fun...” And Johnny's brain was off and running, staring into space as his hands completely forgot the dishes and he started to come up with ideas.

Finishing up the last dish, Cillian took the towel from Johnny and started drying, patting his arm once he took the gloves off. "Why don't you get back to your art, hmmm? I've plenty to keep me busy here..."

Johnny smiled back apologetically. "I owe you one, I really do," he insisted as he went over to his sketchbook to sketch out some ideas. "If you won't let me take you to dinner, at least let me paint you two and you can have the result as a gift. Least I can do, honestly."

"All right," Cillian said with a smile. "You've got a deal. I can't wait, honestly...for you to meet him or to see the painting...I've never had my portrait done!"

"It'll be fun!" Johnny replied with a smile. "Well maybe not the sitting still part so much, but you're beautiful. It'll be great. Do you think... well only if you wanted to, but could you dress in drag for the portrait maybe? I mean, would he mind? You make such a lovely woman," Johnny explained, honestly. He wasn't much for drag as a sexual attraction, but aesthetically, he had to admit Cillian looked great when he did it.

Blushing slightly at the question, Cillian nodded. "I could probably be persuaded to do that. I'm sure Eric won't mind, he says he likes me in any form...So you want me in my feminine splendor then?"

"Indeed I do," Johnny agreed, his pencil flying as he sketched out half-formed ideas. This sketchbook was like a database of the artistic side of his brain-- anytime he formulated an idea, he sketched out the shape of it here. True, it'd be incomprehensible to anyone else, but he always preferred taking notes in pictures to words. "Ask Eric what he thinks and then give me a call. If he'd like, y'all could come over for tea or something one day so he can meet me first--and I can deliver my well-honed 'hurt him and die" speech," Johnny added with a quick grin in Cillian's direction.

"Definitely! I'll drag him over for tea, I promise. Oooh I'm so excited now!" Cillian twittered as he started gathering dirty clothes. His own mind was flying over the possibilities...what to wear, how to fix his hair.

Johnny hummed in a vaguely positive acknowledgement of Cillian's excitement, caught up again in his work. He loved having a new project to look forward to, and he hoped Eric would be amenable to the idea. Pencil between his teeth, he sat back and lost himself in his thoughts, barely noticing when Cillian slipped downstairs with a bag of clothes.

Well I guess it's good I finally got up the nerve and gave Marton a call...

2006-09-27T23:34:39Z

Me? A fucking gallery showing? God, it would be crazy if that went through...

26 September; Johnny and Marton; Johnny's studio

2006-09-27T13:49:31Z

September 26th, 2006.
Johnny Depp (johnny_quarter) and Marton Csokas Saint-Laurent (saint_laurent). Second Meeting.
Johnny's Studio/home; French Quarter. PG.

Johnny was going slightly frantic, trying to make his apartment even semi-appropriate for guests. Like most of his life, the apartment was a bit of a crazy melange of various projects and ideas, and not exactly the ideal place to show his art. He and Marton had agreed over the phone to meet here, and like most things he had put off cleaning till the last minute. He did have a collection of paintings he was willing to sell lined up, leaning against the wall or on easels, but it was impossible to store all the other random crap lying around with the minimal amount of space his studio apartment offered.

The paintings he had chosen were a variety--some abstracts, a few paintings of local points of interest, and then some semi-abstract paintings of the human form. Most were fairly vague--a man's form that suggested dancing, a child in a woman's arms--but his favourite, form loose but still recognisable, was of two men coiled around each other in an intimate embrace. The background was a kaleidoscope of wild colours in frantic brushstrokes, but the figures were entirely white, blank canvas with shapes suggested by the form of the background around them. He liked the way the blank figures suggested possibility, but he wasn't sure what the other man would think, and frankly, he could use the money from a sale today. Sighing, he left it on the wall but tucked it slightly behind a landscape just as the buzzer rang.

"Come on up," he spoke through the intercom system, hitting a button to unlock the door downstairs. He gave the apartment one last once-over, then tugged on his unbuttoned red shirt, splattered with paint, looked down at his favourite patched jeans, and rolled his eyes. Well, it wasn't like the guy was paying for Johnny's fashion sense.

Once the door was buzzed open, Marton headed inside and up to the apartment labelled as J. Depp. He was curious as to what he would find, artwise and living spacewise. It always interested Marton to see how someone lived. He wondered what his own dwelling said about him.

Without Maggie he knew he'd be lost.

And even after Ioan had moved to the guest house, Maggie was forever picking up bits of clothing and shoes his boy would leave strewn about. The thought made Marton smile.

Knocking upon the outer door when he reached Johnny's, Marton waited.

Johnny threw open the door with a wide, apologetic smile, stepping aside to let Marton in. "Hey, come on in... I'm sorry the place is so crazy; I'm really not a cleaner. I've tried to line up the stuff I'm willing to sell though, over on this wall," he explained, pointing out the row of paintings and almost tripping over an in-progress sculpture in the process. "Can I get you a cup of tea? Coffee?"

"Coffee is fine," Marton responded, moving into the controlled chaos of Johnny's living space, smiling a bit. "And don't worry about apologizing, really. For you, it's your art..." At my house, it's shoes... Moving towards the indicated wall, Marton looked it over with both a critical eye and the eye of someone seeing if there was anything he liked.

Noting that one painting seemed to be...well, for lack of a better word...hiding, Marton moved closer and freed it a bit, immediately fascinated by the image.

Johnny bit his lip when Marton immediately moved to the hidden painting and toyed with one of the patches on his jeans. "It's a little... I don't know... personal, I guess. I couldn't quite decide about that one; I guess it makes me feel vulnerable as an artist in a way the others don't," he explained.

Marton smiled, not unkindly, at that response. "I can understand what you mean. It's very good though, you shouldn't feel self-conscious. You said you couldn't decide--I'm going to assume from its placement though that you are willing to sell it?"

"Definitely." Johnny tilted his head, looking at the piece again. "I guess the thing is, for me, it's too personal. I mean, all this shit adds up to me, in some way," he explained, waving his arm around the room. "But it's just bits and pieces, and the aggregate is me. This painting is too direct, you know? It's too focused, too much of myself for me to want to keep and display here. Besides, it expresses something of an ideal, in my mind, like a statement of hope, that I'm not sure is a hundred percent attainable. It'll just depress me," he explained with a shrug. "But I'm babbling, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize...a story can be as interesting as a picture. I want this one. For me, I mean. Well, for me and as a gift as well. This one will just go straight to a wall in a home, not in a gallery anywhere..." Marton chuckled. "Now who is rambling?"

Johnny laughed and brushed him off. "You're not rambling. I'm glad you can think of a good place for it. Does two hundred sound reasonable?" Johnny asked as he moved towards the little kitchenette, pouring the just-brewed coffee now that business was over and spooning more brown sugar into the little bowl.

"Quite," Marton agreed to the price immediately. "And are you interested in having your pieces showcased somewhere?" Moving to the little kitchen area, he leaned and watched as the man made the coffee.

"I'm not sure... I mean financially, yes. But I'm afraid that people wouldn't take too well to my work. I always ignored conventional artistic wisdom, so to speak," Johnny explained, handing Marton a mug and putting the sugar and cream on a little table. "I never even graduated high school, so I don't know why the hell anyone would want to buy my stuff. I do it for myself, and for charity, and to set an example for my students, but that's about it."

"What does education have to do with being a good artist? In the long run...and if they didn't take to it, you're no worse off than you were before you put it on display, really. There are things hanging in galleries right now that I wouldn't even consider art. What you do, its art...good art, at least in my opinion."

Johnny smiled at that. "Well, thank you for the compliment. I guess I'd consider that, if there was a gallery that could show me. I'd also be a bit afraid of actually having to appear at these things... I mean exhibition openings generally involve fancy food and suits I can't afford. Not to mention talking to someone to whom I have nothing to say," Johnny added with a sheepish smile.

"Well, a gallery opening can be whatever you want it to be...I've seen artist barefoot and like they just rolled out of bed. I think on some level people expect that from artists sometimes. If you're interested, then I'd be delighted to help you find a venue. I have quite a few contacts--and it's not charity, not just me calling in favours. It would be on the merit of your work--I'd just be helping you get your foot in the door. I also do a lot of work with charities, you could take the work you do on the street one step further, earn more money for them," Marton explained, then laughed. "I just dropped into business mode a bit didn’t' I?"

Johnny smiled slowly, taking a sip of his coffee. "I think you did there, but that's all right. I'm flattered that you've got enough confidence in my work to help me set this up. And anything I can do for charity would be great... it's a long story, but a while ago I came to the realisation that helping others have a decent shot in life is probably the best thing I can do with my own," he explained with a shrug. "Maybe someday I'll tell you the rest of it."

"I'd like that," Marton stated, smiling. "I guess for me, I've always had everything I could ever need, so...it would feel almost wrong not to take some of that and help others. Especially now. Between you and I though, I hate functions too. I'd much rather sit on a street corner selling paintings. I can't stand having to get up in front of a crowd and speak..."

"God, definitely," Johnny agreed. "I guess I do that some with my students, but as much as possible it's them creating and me moving among them and lending suggestions as to technique and such. The closest I come to getting up in front of people is leading the underclass orchestra and conducting's a lot different from speaking."

"Yes, I imagine it is..." Marton said with a grin. "I suppose that's the only drawback to being largely involved with charities, is they want you to speak and all this other nonsense. I gave you my money, why do you need my speech? Bah..." He laughed.

Johnny barked out a laugh. "Yeah, you'd think they'd be thanking you profusely for your check and finding someone else to make the speech, if you don't want to do it. I try to do as much charity stuff as I can with anonymous checks so I don't have to worry about the bureaucracy of it all."

"Lucky," Marton said sagely. "And smart. I usually stay as long as is necessary and then I'm out of there, especially if I'm there alone."

"So if you hate public speaking so much, what is it you do enjoy?" Johnny asked, leaning a bit against the counter. "What's your passion?"

"Ioan," Marton replied immediately, then blushed and cleared his throat, realizing that was probably more information than this man wanted. He laughed a little self-consciously. "Sorry...probably not what you meant, but it's true."

Johnny smiled. "Hey, all I ever ask is honesty. Ioan is your boyfriend?" he asked.

"That's the simple answer, yes," Marton laughed.

"Hey, when is it not complicated?" Johnny replied with a grin. "How long have you been together?"

"Six years," Marton responded, shaking his head a bit. "I still can't believe it's been that long. He's still young and beautiful and I just keep getting older..." He laughed, shrugging.

"Damn. Six years? Congratulations, man." Johnny laughed as he took another sip of coffee. "You can't be older than I am, and you're certainly still very attractive, so don't start feeling sorry for yourself just yet," he teased. "I do know how you feel though. The kids at school keep getting younger and younger, and then I realise it's not them; it's me."

"Well, he's only 24...so..." Marton laughed. "And I'm thirty-six, so ...old enough I suppose. And thank you...you're not hard on the eyes yourself."

Johnny shook his head but thanked Marton anyway. "Thirty-six is by no means old, though. I'd give a lot to be thirty-six again."

"You can't be that far past thirty six," Marton pointed out.

"Forty three. But thank you," Johnny replied with a smile. "I'm starting to feel a lot older now that I realise I should be paying attention to things like health insurance and retirement savings, but I guess it happens to everyone eventually."

"Ah, the sense of one's own mortality..." Marton commented, shaking his head. "Not a fun thing."

"Never," Johnny agreed with a smile. "But then, I'm sort of a carpe diem kind of guy. I try not to worry about that shit too much. Hopefully my good karma will keep me alive and healthy in my old age, at least."

"Well, here's to karma then," Marton said with a lift of his coffee cup.

"I'll drink to that," Johnny agreed, taking another sip. "So how did you want to get the painting back to your place? Do you have a car, or...?"

"Yes, I have my driver. I should be able to get it in the car. As for the others, I'll definitely be in touch with you after I do some checking. You should come join Ioan and I for dinner one night."

Johnny tried not to look too surprised at the word driver. Okay, so he should have expected it, but still. "That sounds excellent," he agreed, outwardly. "I'd love to meet Ioan. Just give me a call whenever, I'm usually around," he explained, setting down his mug and walking back over to the painting to wrap it carefully in paper and then bubble wrap, securing the whole thing with tape.

"I will definitely give you a call," Marton promised. "Will you take a check for the painting? Or I can have cash delivered if you prefer."

"A check's fine, yeah. I know you're good for it," Johnny replied with a grin.

Marton laughed. "All right then, just one moment and I'll get that for you." Sitting his cup down, he removed his check book and wrote out not only for the amount quoted, but an extra hundred as well.

When Johnny had the painting all wrapped up, he slid it into a spare paper shopping bag and then turned back to Marton, taking the proffered check and raising his eyebrows at the amount. "You... Jesus, man. Thank you," he said with a genuine smile, not really knowing what else to say. "That's... it's really not worth that much."

"What makes art worth anything? It's the enjoyment people get from looking at it," Marton responded. "And I greatly enjoy this, so it's more than worth that to me, and I know it will be to Ioan as well, it's a gift for him."

"Well I'm glad you like it. I hope he does, too," Johnny replied as he handed the bag over and walked Marton to the door. "I'll see you sometime soon, then. And thanks again, for everything."

"You're welcome," Marton responded. "Take care Johnny, I'll talk to you soon."

7 September; Marton and Johnny; sidewalk by the market; PG

2006-09-07T23:46:03Z

September 7th, 2006.
Marton Csokas Saint-Laurent (saint_laurent) and Johnny Depp (johnny_quarter)
Johnny and Marton meet; Sidewalk by the French Market; French Quarter.
PG.

Marton checked his watch as he moved down the street, bag in hand from the store he had just exited. Mind a million miles away on things that needed to be done, and Ioan's restlessness and subsequent meeting and ‘dating’ of Orlando, he nearly missed the little art display that was set up off to the side.

Pausing as a splash of color caught his eye, Marton smiled as he read the sign--all proceeds to charity. Intrigued, he moved closer to look at some of the work with a trained eye.

It was a fairly good day, as sales went. Johnny had been in this spot on the sidewalk since school let out at two, painting for charity donations. Almost all the ones he'd done of the sunrise before work had already gone, and now he was doing simple little pictures of the street, with a lot of unexpected colours and strokes that reflected the bustling motion. An 8 x 10 canvas was $15, though he had sold some bigger ones earlier. Occasionally he'd do a portrait request, usually of someone's kid, but he hadn't had many of those yet. Most people were still at work now, and the tourists were beginning to slack off with the end of summer.

He adjusted the brim of his floppy brown hat, mainly there to keep out the bright sun, and on impulse swiped a bright streak of red across the bottom of the canvas.

The paintings were good, a lot better than one would sometimes find being sold on the street. They had a simplicity laced with complexity that intrigued Marton as he looked them over--having already decided to buy one before he even saw them. Now that he had seen them though... Glancing around, he spotted who he assumed was the artist--given the brush in his hand and the canvas.

Heading over, Marton waited a moment before interrupting him in the middle of creating.

Johnny could sense someone hovering over his shoulder, but didn't look up, preferring a less aggressive sales technique. "$15 for the small, $30 for the large," he said in a quiet, conversational tone, adding one more streak of color to his painting before he pronounced it finished and set it aside to dry. "I do requests as well."

"Oh?" Marton responded, smiling. "Portraits?" He glanced around again. "You've a good eye, a good hand."

"Usually, yeah. Or anything, really. I'll do abstracts if there's demand. And thank you," he added, looking up at the man as he put a blank canvas on his easel. He looked about Johnny's age, maybe a little younger, and classically attractive, well off. The kind of guy most charity workers would push for every cent, but that wasn't really Johnny's style. "You're something of a connoisseur then, I take it?"

"That might be a very pretentious way to put it," Marton laughed. "But I suppose so, yeah. Marton Saint-Laurent." He extended his hand. "And I'm definitely interested in buying some of your work. Are you working for a particular charity?"

"Johnny Depp." He gave Marton's hand a firm shake and smiled. "Today I'm working for the AIDS Foundation, actually. All the proceeds at the end of the weekend go into a check." Johnny hadn't put the specific charity on the sign for this reason--most people didn't ask, and they'd be none the wiser, but the cause was important to him. If this guy changed his mind for that reason, well, there would be other donations.

"That's a great thing," Marton responded, unphased by what charity—he had just been curious. "I've done some work with them. So, is this your normal line of work? Art, that is?"

Johnny smiled and shook his head as he squeezed some more paint into his tray from the little tubes. "I dabble in a bit of everything, but my official profession is education. I'm a high school teacher; art but also music. And I've taught a number of other subjects too, when they're needed."

"A teacher? Well...that really is a noble profession," Marton stated, impressed. He wished he'd had a teacher like this when he was in school...chuckling to himself, he shook his head.

Johnny shrugged. "Noble enough. The administration has been trying to get rid of me for years," he explained with a grin. "Kids love me, though. So Marton, can I paint anything in particular for you, or do you see something that catches your eye?" he asked, gesturing to the stacked up finished paintings.

"I see a lot that catches my eye," Marton responded, nodding. "I'm definitely interested in purchasing a few of these, and maybe your art in general. Do you ever show anywhere?"

Johnny laughed lightly and shook his head. "Don't know any gallery that would show me... I'm not exactly the successful, society artist type. Owners like a guarantee that their work will sell. But I love doing work for charity, so it works for me. If you'd like to look at some stuff sometime, though, I could arrange a showing for you… it's all just at my apartment or at school but I could get it together," Johnny explained with a shrug.

"Actually, I would like that," Marton stated, nodding. "And maybe you just haven't met the right gallery owner. If you were interested in showing, it'd be a pleasure to help." Reaching into his jacket, Marton withdrew his wallet--to pay for the paintings and to retrieve his card.

Johnny blinked at the card and then smiled. "Gosh, yeah, um... I'll give you a call, definitely," he replied, taking the money Marton offered for the chosen paintings and handing over his change. "And thank you for the support," he added, wrapping the paintings in plastic to protect them and putting them in a paper shopping bag.

"Anything you don't sell today, contact me and I'd be happy to purchase as well," Marton responded. "And I don't need the change, send it to the charity."

Johnny grinned more broadly at that. "Thanks a lot, man. This really is awesome... it's a really important cause to me, you know. Not a lot of support in this area, either," he added, putting the change with the rest of the donations.

"It's just a really important cause in general," Marton agreed, nodding. "And you're welcome. Anything I can do to help, don't hesitate to call."

"Thanks, I'll definitely do that." Johnny took Marton's hand again in the less paint-stained of his own, and watched as the man walked down the sidewalk, getting back to work. Thanks, karma, he thought, laughing to himself.

25 August; Karl and Johnny; bar in the quarter; PG

2006-08-26T14:12:35Z

[crossposted to our_quarter and kiwikarl_q]

The bar was rather crowded when Johnny showed up. School having started, his days were running longer now as he usually was there till four, and then back home working on some project, or out on the street painting or busking. It was already well after ten, and once he retrieved his beer he only saw one free space to sit, across a table from a guy who appeared to be alone. "Hey man, do you mind company?" Johnny asked with an apologetic smile as he approached the table.

Karl's fingers spun his half filled glass slowly around on the coaster as he was lost deep in thought. He'd met a bloke who had a bike for sale, and been for a ride before having a beer with the man and discussing both bikes and prices. He knew the man wanted too much for the machine, and was sitting there contemplating having to continue to look when he heard the question and looked up.

"Uh, sorry, no," he replied, uncrossing his ankles where they'd been stretched out under the now vacant chair opposite. He pulled his legs back, tucking his feet under his own seat as he sat up a little. "Have a seat."

"Thanks. I'd forgotten how crowded this place tends to get this time of year. I'm Johnny," he offered, extending his hand as he sat his beer down on a coaster.

"Karl," he replied taking Johnny's hand and shaking it. "Haven't been here before, just seeing a man about a bike," he offered with a smile.

"Motorbike or the kind you pedal?" Johnny asked, grinning.

“Motor,” Karl answered, taking a mouthful of his beer. “Seen a bit by foot, want to take a look around a little further afield.”

"Sounds like a plan. I used to travel all over the country, back in the day, but those days are pretty much over for me. I've found I like Louisiana well enough to stay," Johnny explained.

Karl looked at the other man with a little surprise. "Make it sound like y' over the hill!"

Johnny laughed. "I've resigned myself to my old age," he joked. "But hey, you've gotta settle sometime, even if your idea of settling to doesn't quite match up to most people's standards."

“True, and as long as you’re happy with what you’ve done, and seen, then that’s a good place to be,” Karl agreed. “I still have a whole heap to see and do, and the next step is getting a bike.”

"Well good luck with that, then. Have you ridden motorcycles before? I think I'd be slightly scared to drive one," Johnny admitted.

“Yep, had one back home. Nothing quite like it! Well, I guess there is, but still, it’s a great feeling, and a good way to get around. So you’ve never ridden? Ever?”

"Well I've never been the one driving the thing. I rode on the back of a motorcycle a few times when I was much younger, traveling with friends. And we had mopeds sometimes in Algiers, but I wouldn't want try to drive a Harley or something," Johnny explained, taking a sip of his beer.

“If you’ve handled a moped you can handle a bike, but just need to remember they weight a helluva lot more,” Karl told him with a wink. “And handle like shit at slow speed.”

"Well, I'm always up for something new, old man or not," Johnny said with a wink. "I might try it sometime."

“Never too old to enjoy the freedom of a good ride on open road!” He remembered what Johnny had said about riding mopeds in Algiers. “So you done a fair bit of traveling?”

"A bit, yeah. I went to Algeria with the Peace Corps for a couple of years when I was in my twenties, before I ended up in New Orleans. Other than that all my traveling was in this country, but I have seen a good bit of it. What about yourself? Where are you from?"

“The Peace Corp, huh? Cool!! Never really met anyone who’s done that, just sort of heard about it.” He raised his glass a little to Johnny, as if in salute. “I’m from New Zealand, just setting out on seeing what else there is on this great big rock.”

"Well, there's a shitload of a lot," Johnny replied with a grin. "New Zealand, huh? I thought maybe Australia. I don't even have anything approaching a concept of what anything's like outside of the US and Africa and maybe Europe... it's kind of embarrassing, but I didn't finish school the first time around, and I never went to college, so..." He shrugged.

Karl snorted softly, pretending to be offended for all of three milliseconds before shaking his head with a grin. “Did a bit of a look-round over there a few times, on the ‘West Island’, when sailing up the coast or in a few of the ocean races, but other than that this is my first time ‘out’, so to speak. And schooling’s cool for those that need it to do whatever, but I’ve too many buddies with bits of paper that don’t help ‘em a damned bit when it comes to getting a job, or building a house, or even stacking supermarket shelves.” He took a mouthful before adding quickly, “course not everyone’s like that. Prefer to go to a doc who at least has the education to know how to figure out what’s wrong with me!”

Johnny laughed at that. "Yeah, I'm certainly not *against* school, in fact I became a teacher because I think kids should stay in school if they can, and I wish I had... high school just wasn't a great place for someone like me, when I was there. Certainly not high school in Kentucky. So I dropped out and started a band."

“You did? Sound just like my brother! He and the teachers never really saw eye to eye either. Not that he was stupid, or they didn’t like him, just… yeah, like you said, it wasn’t set up for someone like him. He’s into his music, and nothing else really ever managed to get his attention long enough he could sit through a class without ending up humming something, or playing air guitar, which did used to get on some teacher’s nerves. So what’d you play?”

"Well I'm an art and music teacher, so I hope I'm helping at least a little to help kids like that to stay in school. I just played guitars back then, but now fiddle and piano as well. Sometimes on the weekends I busk in the Quarter to make some extra cash, or for charity," Johnny explained.

“Where abouts, and I’ll have to come have a listen. Any charity in particular?”

"It depends on the day, and whether the cops are out looking for buskers to fine. But usually a corner near the market. I raise money for a few charities, but most of it goes to the AIDS Foundation," Johnny explained. "I had a friend; he died... well I owe most of my life changes to him, so I've spent a lot of time trying to help the cause."

“Fined? You get fined for busking?” Karl asked, a little surprised. “I didn’t know that. That’s… “ He shook his head. “That’s just not right.”

Johnny shrugged, used to the injustice of it. "You have to have a license to busk in the city. I can't afford a license, so I just avoid the cops. That's just how it is. City makes money off of us any way they can."

“Christ! You’re not wrong! Not like it costs them anything t’ have buskers. If anything it makes ‘em money, bringing people into the district, to be around that type of place. They sting you any way they can.”

"I guess they're afraid of people who aren't any good, you know, disturbing the peace.. but you're not going to make enough money to keep doing it, if that's the case. Anyway, I deal with it. Sometimes a copper comes around, and then I find a new corner. You get accustomed to it."

Nodding ruefully Karl agreed. “Yeah, guess there’s that, but like you said, who’s going to keep it up if it doesn’t at least get a few bucks in the kitty.” He picked his beer up before asking, “So you do it often? And do you do any paid gigs?”

"Not paid gigs, no. I'm out on the street pretty much every Saturday and Sunday that we have good weather, although it depends on my mood whether I'm busking or painting. I also do paintings for charity, cityscapes and boring shite like that as well as portraits."

“Boring? Why’s that? I mean why not paint what you’d like to? Stuff you enjoy?”

"Well it doesn't usually sell. I do paint for myself, when it's my time. Believe me, I have plenty of paintings that are just for me; I just do the other stuff because that's what the tourists will buy, and it's for a good cause," Johnny replies.

“Guess I can relate to that,” Karl replied after finishing his beer, holding the empty glass in his hand. “Some jobs y’ need to do because that’s what the people want, and others is the fun part. D’you ever get to exhibit any of your own stuff, that you like? Say in one of the festivals they have for artists?”

"Well I haven't, before... I'm a bit wary of galleries, but I met a guy who's trying to help me get a show. If I can find the right place to show it, then I will. What about you, though? What do you do for a living, or for fun?" Johnny asked. "Other than riding motorcycles, that is.”

“For a living? I’m a carpenter-cum-sparky-cum-handyman. One thing there’s no lack of around this place is work,” he answered, glancing up as a waitress came into view and lifting his empty glass up to attract her attention. “Can I get you another?” he asked Johnny as she weaved her way over to take his order and the empties.

"Sure, thanks, man." Johnny told the waitress what he was drinking and waited for Karl, and then turned back to his companion as she walked away. "Yeah I'd imagine that's pretty steady work... if there's one thing you can rely on in this world, it's that shit's gonna break," he pointed out with a grin.

“Yup, that and people want to change stuff,” he told Johnny, returning the grin, then sobering a little. “Though more a case of lots of ‘broken’ stuff around this town still needing attention,” he added a little softer. “It’s what got me packing m’ bags and heading this way, really. Figured they’d probably be needing as many chippies as they could muster so it was a good place to start m’ travels.”

"Well good on you, then," Johnny replied with a smile. "We can certainly use all the help we can get, though we're starting to get back to normal, slowly. For a while last year I stopped doing the AIDS charity stuff in favour of raising money for the relief effort, and that went pretty well, but now the organisation's so fucked up that I don't know who's worth raising money for anymore."

“Yeah, guess that’s why I never really got into charities and the like, as I never was too sure where the money was going. There was some pretty nasty stuff happening back home with a few of the supposed ‘good ones’.” He shook his head briefly. “Figured if I did the work, at least I’d know it was doing something for someone, and making things better in some way. Like the old couple who run the hostel I’m staying in, they’re a pair of old ‘troopers’, struggling pretty hard but insisting they won’t accept any charity, so give me food and board for the work I’m doing to get the place fixed up for them.”

"That's a good arrangement. I used to do that a lot back in the day, the guys in the band that I traveled with, we would stay somewhere and do repairs in exchange for a roof over our heads. I was never very handy with much, but I can lift shit and I'm good at painting. As long as I don't try to get all artistic with the fucking trim," Johnny added with a smile.

Karl laughed, sitting back as their drinks arrived, and paying the waitress. He lifted his glass to Johnny. “To painting, all kinds, and the artistic trims!”

Johnny laughed loudly at that and clinked his glass enthusiastically with Karl's, sloshing a bit of foam over the side and licking it from the edge of the glass before taking a drink. "You're a good egg, man. A real good egg," he said with a shake of his head.

Pup/Player Info

2006-08-09T15:28:56Z

Mun name/nick/handle: Viktoria Angelique
Mun journal: v_angelique
AIM: VkAngelique
Yahoo: viktoria_angelique
E-mail: viktoriaangelique@gmail.com
When you can be reached and preferred method: I prefer gmail tagging and usually respond at least a few times a day to tags. For the next two weeks I'm online pretty much all day, but from the 21st on my best times for chatting and plotting will be mornings EST and nights before midnight.

Pup's physical info: 43 years old, 5'10", brown hair and brown eyes, lean but muscular build, several tatoos ("Tonight I will write the saddest lines..." around his left calf, a skull and crossbones with the words "Death is Certain" on his left calf, head of a native American chief on right bicep, a heart with his mother Betty Sue's name on left bicep, and a small eighth note on his right hipbone)
Pup's location: French Quarter
Pup's orientation: Bisexual (but tends to go for men)
Pup's hobbies: Playing piano, guitar, and fiddle, charity work (Habitat for Humanity, sewing blankets for the homeless, etc), busking on the street, painting, photography, crafts, reading, finding out about different culutres, trying new foods, making clothing, smoking (rolls his own cigarettes), mixing up new cocktails, trying new things
Game connections: Available for play!

Type of Characters Pup Likes: Johnny is very quirky and open-minded. He'll try anything once, and he loves to meet new people, always looking for the good, the bad, and the interesting in everyone and everything around him. He's very passionate and loves to talk (and to listen), and he also likes meeting people with interesting hobbies that he can try. He's sexually open and if someone catches his fancy, he's usually happy to spend a night with them if both parties are willing. He's explored kinks and isn't adverse to them, though he's not into the formal BDSM scene (at least at this time). He usually prefers men sexually, but there are exceptions to this.

What type of play are you willing or NOT willing to do: Happy to do kink if it's decided in advance... really anything is fine, just want to plot and be clear in advance what's happening!

Pup's background: Johnny was born in 1963 in Kentucky as John Christopher Depp II. It was clear from an early age that he was a little different, and this made a public school education very frustrating. At 15 he dropped out of high school and started a band, putting him on rocky terms with his recently divorced parents. He travelled the country, often with only the clothes on his back, and experimented with sex and drugs. When he was twenty, however, his best friend became infected with the HIV virus and developed one of the first cases of AIDS in the United States. The poor treatement his friend received, on top of discrimination, leading to his death three years later, led Johnny to drastically change his tune. He stopped doing recreational drugs (excepting marijuana) and joined the Peace Corps, spending two years in Algeria where he became fluent in French and learned to use his natural curiosity to expand his mind, rather than indulge in descructive activities. When he got home, he reconciled with his parents (this is when he got the "Betty Sue" tattoo) and siblings (brother Danny and sisters Christi and Debbie)and got back into the arts, which he had somewhat abandoned in the time of Brian's illness. He got involved in new mediums such as film and photography, and got back to painting, sculpting, and crafts. For a time, he crashed on his brother's couch and sold clothing that he made and designed for a living, but eventually decided to get on his own feet again. He worked a number of jobs, from bartending to being a sou chef to selling art in a gallery, in various locations. Around his thirtieth birthday, he discovered teaching. Without a high school diploma, he couldn't do much, but he began teaching art in community centres, and then courses such as film appreciation and literature. At thirty-two, he moved to New Orleans and started teaching English as a Second Language to the French population in the city, as well as tutoring high school French. At thirty-five, he got his GED and teaching certificate, and for the past seven years he's been teaching art and music. He's always been considered "a little weird" by his students, but is well-loved by many, especiallly the more off beat and unpopular kids. He supplements his income with odd jobs from busking near the French Market to selling paintings to telling fortunes in gaudy costumes he made himself to the tourists. He continues to be an active artist, and has recently started writing music and poetry as well, and is engaged in political activism. Whenever he has time, he does charity work and frequently works for Habitat for Humanity or sells art for UNICEF.