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Harlow lifted his head, forcing a smile, trying to resist the look on his face that may have been concern. But not exactly. “Oh, yeah. Definitely. When I get into voyeurism. But- hey-” He sighed, “I'm very proud you are comfortable with your exhibitionism, Lana. When we accept ourselves for who we are, no matter what. We are the happiest.” Lana seemed quite happy with herself, of course. Harlow wasn't going to judge her interests. But it was nevertheless not for him. That it took place in his museum was the crossroads. Glancing down as her finger poked into his collarbone, his jaw tightens a bit. He wasn't mad, not at all. His museum was lovely, and he could understand the pull toward acting on such an impulse. Harlow nodded, “But I don't think so, really. I'm finding private intimacy is more my speed.” He was not, of course, a very intimate person.

Or, perhaps the correct thing to say was that he was not a very romantic person. It was very hit-and-miss with him. Harlow nodded as Lana continued, eating another lemon slice as he did. Swallowing it, he points, “Here and there, huh.” Waving his finger then, he tutted, “See, that's a non-answer. Which is a pretty big giveaway that the place is much more exclusive. You don't want others going there?” He quirked an eyebrow, before tilting his head a bit, giving a cocky little smile, “Fine. Keep your secrets.” Harlow replied with her question, turning his head away, he moved his right hand up to adjust the tightness of his strings.

Harlow let out a breath, considering for a moment, a couple of random strings of thought, staring down at the stone she'd brought him today. Reaching out, he brushed his fingers over the surface of it, gentle, careful. Then, leaning in, he licked the rock, “Hm. This one tastes interesting. Exceptionally different from the last one you brought here. Yes. Wonderful.”

❝ Well, maybe next time, you can watch in person, ❞ Lana teased, delighting in his suffering. She was not someone who felt ashamed in her skin. Far from it. Lana believed it was only natural for two consenting adults to celebrate themselves, indulge in each other, in the most natural way, the way they were born, without clothes and shame. She poked him delicately near his collarbone thrice before running her finger around the area, ❝ For procedure. ❞ ❝ Oh, just here and there, ❞ she shrugged the more business-like question, figurative flicking it away not unlike one would an uninvited ant. The easier, simpler answer would be the mines. But Lana did not like sharing that place with others, especially if they’ll just end up scared of the Lana that enjoys herself down there and too much. The last time someone joined her down there, they ended up throwing themselves off a ledge. Terrible end to a date night. Lana put the same finger in her mouth, playfully biting it for effect, ❝ I can show you finer things if you like? ❞ What would be pros and cons of sleeping with Harlow? That was a question that did not cross Lana’s mind. She was a simple woman with simple needs. Okay, maybe not that simple. Simple woman don’t go around mining in their most natural state in the middle of the night. Still, he’s already seen her in her most natural state. Why not experience it himself?

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NYLON & DKYN Jeans: Avan Jogia featuring Holland Roden [x]

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Harlow blinked a little and looked down a little, “Well, you know, I guess I was born without it!” He laughed, glancing to one side. Considering a large chunk of his life had been sitting and not standing, he guessed his rhythm had to be off. Grinning, Harlow brought his hands together, tapping the tips of his fingers together as he turned slightly at his waist, looking around when the other considered the next part of what August said, and what to say about it, “Yes. Well. Maybe it's playing a trick on you. To make me look crazy.” Harlow proposed, biting his lips, amused, before he laughed, “No. You're probably right. I'm really bad at running, I guess.”

Raising his eyebrows, he looked at August's outstretched hand, taking it in his own and giving a nice, firm handshake, “Hello, August. I'm Harlow.” Moving his hand away politely, he lifted his other to his face, pressing his index finger over his lips and grinning, “Yes. We'll keep this between us. Can't let everyone know sidewalks are tripping people. That will just breed chaos. Sidewalks aren't supposed to move on their own.” He stared, serious for a moment, before laughing. Then, turning his attention to the books, he pointed, “Oh. I love that one. It's a great addition to the series overall.”

august could sense when someone was coming near him. he was walking out of the library with a couple of books in his hands. he had spent some time doing some research on the computers but after calling it quits, he was just going to grab a couple of fiction books for himself to read. he was still adjusting to the fact that he didn't really need to sleep so he was going to have to himself busy all hours of the day.

he looked over as he saw someone trip and fall onto the sidewalk. he couldn't help but snicker to himself a little bit before he walked over to the individual, "yeah i did unfortunately. sorry to say but it seems like you may have not been moving in the right rhythm. you can try and blame it on the sidewalk all that you want to but i don't think that it's going to work." he said before sticking his hand out, "name is august, and i won't tell anyone else what i saw here."

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“Right. Things just happen, and are out of our control. Can't waste too much time on getting upset about it.” Harlow nodded then. Of course, he had a lot of reason to think this way. Even if it seemed to come off as naive. Or make him look silly. He had spent a lot of his life already, in a controlled environment, hidden, and being demanded of things against his own will. Now he just wanted to have some fun, be a little silly, perhaps. Clearing his throat, he looked away, toying with the rock in his hand. He didn't mind controlling the museum needed control, it needed to be the best it could be. But, Harlow didn't feel as determined to control anything else outside of that. There were still things he couldn't control, even with the museum. He had figured out quite a long time ago that he would end up going mad if he tried to control too much or got too emotional about too much. Things would get worse, things always got worse, he learned, if he tried to control things, if he got too emotional about things. Too upset.

People became cruel if they weren't happy with you, Harlow understood. Smiling at the other, he glances around when Finn spoke of nature, and it had a calming effect on them, “Oh? Really? That's great. I too like nature. I find it to be very calming.” He added in agreement. When Finn held their hand out and introduced himself, Harlow stared for a moment before taking the others' hands, giving a proper handshake, “Harlow. And the same. Do you come out here often? I don't usually. Being as busy as I am. But there's always something to appreciate out here.” Gently, he removed his hand from Finn's to gesture about the area, “It always seems to provide what I need, a nice place to enjoy just being. A rock, and some lovely-looking leaves. Shade if it gets too hot.” He nodded, complimenting the space around them.

“ I would agree on that, there are very unpredictable days..” For those who did not know how to control their own fate. Surely, there were circumstances which no one was able to predict, however, Finn preferred to account for them even before they happened, it was impossible not to be in control in his shoes. It seemed like the stranger did not mind going with the flow, following the path of a river. Finn himself never trusted water, so he could not do the same. “ I would say this is a very positive way to look at life. “ I enjoy being around nature; it has a calming effect.” He admitted but before he continued discussing the day, he extended his hand. “ And apparently I have forgotten my manners, my name is Finn. It is nice to meet you.”

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FAVORITE FILMS | NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM (2006) 20th Century Fox, Dir. Shawn Levy Ben Stiller, Carla Gugino, Dick Van Dyke, Robin Williams, Rami Malek

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Starter for @stllcfthcnght Where: Mystic Moon shop With: Simone Fang

Walking into the Mystic Moon, Harlow was familiar with the place, having been a resident of Westray his whole life. It offered him things he needed when trying to catch up to others his own age, other witches. Sure, he was born with an activity ability, but everything else was neglected due to the circumstances he grew up under. Between going to intensive therapy and catching up on the schooling he missed so he could take the quick path to university. Staring at the items in the shop, Harlow felt the place was a lot more welcoming to him than most. Not because of the people, essentially, but they were, in his opinion, good people too.

They hadn't turned him away, yet, anyway. Seeing a familiar form, he perked up and hurriedly moved toward them, “Simone! Hey!” Harlow called out, only to trip over something black and furry as it scurried across one of the pathways of the shop. Landing directly on his face, Harlow twitched, lying on the floor, “I think I've been assassinated.” Pushing himself up then, he suddenly stood quickly, “I'm alright!” Adjusting his shoulders, he let out a breath, shaking his body out a little before continuing, “Simone- it's been a bit since you came to the museum. I think I've made a discovery.”

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Starter for @eddyxftzz Where: The library With: Edward Fitzgerald

Half lying on a table, Harlow's eyes were closed, a book was open to one side of his head, the subject of the book being mostly about Vikings. His breaths had been deep, but shallow and calm it was very clear he was asleep at the moment. Lost in his own little dreamland. He looked exceptionally comfortable for being asleep at the library, in the middle of the day, half lying on the surface of a table, half sitting. Nothing but his arms as a pillow. What was he dreaming about? Vikings, of course. In the dream, he had imagined himself to be one, events taking place in a blur as they so often did in dreams. Though his dreams were vivid in picture, they still behaved as dreams so often did. Cutting from scene to scene, moments of darkness where the dream got lost in memory. One moment, he was having a sword fight with an enemy, cutting them down, the next, he was having a drink with his fellow Viking friends.

In reality, he was twitching every so often in reaction to his dream, making faint little noises in reaction to the dream he was having. When suddenly he sat up, exclaiming in a tired voice, “No, don't hurt Hvitserk!”, even though it wasn't that loud, someone still 'shushed' him. Blinking, Harlow glances around, “Sorry, sorry...” He then whispered before looking down at his hand, now under the table, watching the beginnings of a sheath start to grumble into sand in his hand under the table. Moving that hand up, he yawned into the back of it, before spying someone nearby, raising an eyebrow, “Hey, that's a good book. Are you liking it?” He asked as he moved to close the book he had been reading and pull it closer to himself.

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The usual demeanor Harlow put up was, at the moment, gone, as he didn't have anyone to perform in front of and had simply been doing work in his office. Scribbling on a few papers and quickly putting them to the side, neatly. A look of calculation and cold, meticulous intelligence on his face. However, when the door opened, he glanced over quickly, before putting on a smile as Myles appeared at the door. Resting his hands, his left over his right, he tapped the pen in his hand back on the piece of paper he was just about to write on, “Myles! Great. Bring them here.” Pulling back, he dropped the pen onto the papers he was about to write on and waved the other over in gentle politeness.

“Oh? That's lovely of you. I've been trapped in here for hours.” Reaching over he toyed with the empty cup on his desk, “Forgot to get a refuel-” Gesturing to the coaster on the desk, he moved the empty container away and put it into the trash to the side of his desk. Leaning back up in his chair, he reached out to grab a stress ball on his desk, tossing it between his hands, considering what Myles said last, “Hmm. Well, it is always a good pull. Of course, mythological artifacts are guaranteed to get the biggest attraction.”

Turning the ball gracefully, letting it roll over the back of his hand, then into his palm skillfully, he continued to think, “Seems that there's been a lead on Ragnar's Enchanted Shirt, here lately...I've been looking into it, and have a team on it. It might be a good display. What do you think?”

closed starter for: @blankspaceforbadthings

who: Salem Harlow

"I have that paperwork you asked me for," Myles said as he held onto the file folder he was holding under his arm, entering Salem's office. He looked up at his boss. "And I came bearing gifts," he smiled. "Decided to stop for a pick me up before coming in, and well, now I have two," he nodded.

Having worked in the museum for years, he trusted Salem, who ran the museum under a watchful eye. And he made Myles' job easier, always making sure everything was stacked and aligned perfectly. Myles and his need for perfection appreciated it very much. "Do you think we'll need to add another exhibit in the next coming months? We've had more visitors lately."

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Harlow thought about it for a moment, about what the other said. He then gave a little shrug, “I guess most days can be considered in that way.” Pausing, he got lost in his thoughts for a moment before turning to face Finn more properly, “Though I cannot claim that every day is a day I make it. So many days are just going to go ways I could never imagine.” Again, he paused, considering his words, and then continued, “Most of the time I just let the day take me wherever it would like, good or bad. It's an adventure either way.” Though he obviously preferred not to have a bad day, of course. But that didn't make the bad days ultimately useless to him, or the good days, for that matter. It was all dependent, he thought, on how what it added up to at the end. Everything, good and bad, Harlow thought, was for some reason or another, to potentially learn something from. He then looked up, giving a nod, “It's not been so bad. I prefer the heat, though. So I can't complain much.” Eying Finn, then, he smiles, “So, what's got you out today?”

What others who do not possess elemental power did not understand was that magic was not a given, it was like a skill, a talent that would quick go to waste if it was not trained. It was the reason why Finn often found himself in nature, he had to reconnect to what gave him and took its power, a natural place where he would not be disturbed nor questioned, where no impact would be made but it would change everything for him. He had sensed the stranger long before they had arrived, they seemed lost in their own thoughts, looking at rocks – he hoped the man before him appreciated nature and was not simply trying to take from it.  “ Good day, indeed. However, a day is what we make it – isn’t it? But if you are simply referring to the weather, it has been merciful today.”

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Harlow had slipped into The Setting Sun, a place he had been plenty of times. Many of his friends and other acquaintances had enjoyed the place. Harlow had his fun, but wasn't quite too comfortable when things got a little too rowdy in the place. Though getting the invite earlier from Amaros was a delight, agreeing, he ventured out to the bar.

Awkwardly holding his hands, he anxiously fidgeted with them as he made his way to one of the more isolated places, bumping into a few people before finally getting to a seat. Once he was sitting, a sense of comfort returned, and he looked more natural then, as if he belonged. Humming under his breath, he looked at an ad that sat on the table, looking it over before Amaros joined him, “Hey!-” Setting the thick sheet of paper back where he grabbed it, he turned and grinned.

“You know I am always looking forward to hearing about it!” A light, adorable smile formed briefly on his lips. Then, stretching his arms a little over the table, he toyed with his fingers a bit, “I feel like it's been so long since I've heard anything. I know, I've been a hermit lately.” He laughed a bit, then, biting on his lips a little, he listened to Amaros, lightly nodding his head, “Oh, things have-they have been going, you know. Work, that stuff with the party a while back, has certainly kept me busy!” Clearing his throat, he looked down, then nodded, “Barbie Dreamhouse sounds lovely. Please. Thank you.”

( @blankspaceforbadthings -- The Setting Sun late, during sunset )

Maybe he's been at the Setting Sun after his working hours a bit too often in the last few weeks. Maybe it's exactly what he needs. His mind has been spiraling with thoughts around Zak, about his position as leader of the merfolk, about his life in general. He's tired and exhausted, and has been longing for a long swim recently, but something is holding him back. The ghost ship is freaking him out, and so has been the fact that the guy he's been head over heels for has been crowned as the king of the merfolk. What takes his mind off of things is the chance for a good, funky cocktail with a friend, and today he's chosen Harlow and invited him out.

Amaros plops down in a seat when he finally finds them, pushing his legs far away from his body and immediately turning his head in his direction, "Evening, my friend. Are you ready for the latest new from under the surface?" His tanned fingers rub over his face, "How's it going, Harlow? Can I get you a drink? The Barbie's Dreamhouse and Coco Mama are excellent choices."

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Noting her eyebrow raise, he tilted his head a bit. It was fine he wasn't much bothered by it. He was, perhaps, hard to get. Catching up on a childhood that he was robbed of, perhaps made him more than just socially awkward and hard to get sometimes. Unfathomable, maybe. But Lana seemed more annoyed. Which wasn't his problem, or his missing perfect boobs, problem. He just smiled at her scowling and pat a hand to the guitar, absently, half fidgeting.

When she called him weird, he turned his head away again, “Yeah. I guess I am?” He glanced away, wondering how weird he could possibly be compared to her. Not that it was a competition or anything. But he also thought she was weird at times. Or maybe there was a vibe from her that he picked up that made her stick out. However, he was certain that everyone was a little weird, just that some people's weirdness was a little more easy to deal with, to most.

“Yes. Stored. Because people are weird and like to have it.” He explained. Not that it was all that much creepy for him to have such things. It wasn't like he told people to go pleasure themselves all about his museum as they liked. They chose to do that and chose to ignore that he had cameras. Of course, all the footage was stored, even that. Harlow let out a breath, then, as she asked if he had watched, “Yes. You were caught on a security camera, Lana.” Harlow made a face, “So now I'm offering you the footage, to do with as you please!”

Though, he froze as she encroached on his personal space with her body. The hair on his neck rose, as well as his arms. For him, the room grew dimmer, and a heavy weight began to press down on him. Barely even hearing her next question, Harlow sat, frozen, his gaze missing the playful spark it had before, becoming a lot more hollow. He could feel an invisible presence, suddenly gripping his throat. Taking in a sharp breath. Harlow closed his eyes to the sudden anxiety from her closeness, which had made him feel momentarily trapped.

“Ah. N-No. I didn't enjoy- I- w-we had to make sure you guys weren't up to something. It's a procedure.” He finally managed, smiling again and tilting his head before looking at the stone that was presented to him, “Huh. Well, that's not bad, Lana. Where did you find this one?” Harlow asked, clearing his throat, “You have to show me sometime, where you find these things. They are very fine examples.”

Lana could not help but raise an eyebrow at Harlow, her lips curled downward, into a frown, but that was immediately replaced by a far more powerful scowl as he plopped the lemon into his mouth. There was no time for her to express her disgust, however, as more pressing matters were afoot, namely, the disappointment that Ms. Perfect Boobs was not around. But then he allowed her ample opportunity to regain her...aversion. ❝ You are so, very weird, ❞ she winced, his bit a bit off-putting to her. Clearly, he would not have perfect boobs. Only women have perfect boobs, and Harlow Salem was no woman. Or was he? She squinted at him, momentarily confused. It was hard to tell these days, which made it far more interesting to her. Regardless, her eyebrow would raise again at his revelation, ❝ Oh? Stored? ❞ ❝ Did you watch it? ❞ Lana teased, her expression now turning much more playful, as if he had found her secret sweet spot, the kind that made dogs wag their tail much faster. She had no tail, in her current form at least, so the intense wagging would be more figurative than literal, but boy, was she wagging that intensely. Lana pressed herself closer against him, invading his space like a cat in heat, teasing him further with a sultry tone, ❝ Did you enjoy watching us, Harlow? ❞ While she waited for his reply, eyes glued on his own expectantly, she opened her box, revealing the earthly treasures that were inside: a handful of iron ore; a natural stone with a subtle blueish-green hue and veining, which resembled what is often referred to as an ❝ ocean stone ❞ in construction and design; and most notably, a reddish-brown mineral with metallic luster known as a hematite.

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Starter for @augustcruz Where: Outside the library With: August Cruz

Lightly jogging down the sidewalk, Harlow had been hurrying to get to the library, not for any particular reason. He was just full of energy at the moment and wanted to jog a little to get some of it out. Today he was tending to business...'business'... away from the museum, sure it was perfectly fine in the hands of his staff, obviously. They were the best. The tech was the best. He had no problem just up and leaving whenever he liked, sometimes. Today, that happened to be more of a scattering of ideas of what he should tackle, and seeing where it might lead him. Just as he was nearing the library, the latest lead led him to practically face-plant on the ground when he tripped, “Oh shit!” Crashing onto the sidewalk, he winced a bit, though he was mostly unharmed.

Lying his head intentionally on the sidewalk where he stumbled, he let out a breath, his body deflating a little before suddenly picking his head up, “I'm fine!” Standing then, he smiled at the person closest to him, awkwardly tucking some hair behind his ear, “Hiiii.” He managed to say to the other, melodically, giving a silly little wave, “Did you see that, the sidewalk moved on its own, right under my feet, weird!” He says, lying, trying to make a joke of it.

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At the groan, Harlow blew out his lips. Brushing his fingertips along the guitar strings while he was being called dramatic, “I'd prefer entertaining… the crowd is tough in here at the moment.” Narrowing his eyes on her a moment, he grinned tightly. He paused, then, gripping his right hand tightly into a fist before releasing the pressure a moment later, letting his arm go a little lax while Lana continued. Grabbing another slice of lemon and eating it.

Chewing slowly, making sure she was standing around on his time, not hers, Harlow nodded, pointing up toward the ceiling, “Ah. Yes. Her.” He then said, licking his teeth. Turning more properly around, facing Lana then, he gave a most adorable smile toward her, “She has the day off today.” Shrugging then he reached his left hand out, grabbed the Jurassic Park themed cup of southernly sweet tea he had on the stand, and brought it to his lips when Lana took out the jewelry box. He quirked an eyebrow as he observed it for a sparring moment, then looked back to her, swallowing the lemon-tainted tea.

Harlow gasped dramatically, quickly placing the cup down and bringing his hands to his chest, “You don't think my boobs are perfect?” He looked down, feeling his chest expressively with his hands, pressing his elegant, long fingers into his body. Then quickly looked back up, his mouth agape, “Someone stole my perfect boobs!” Giving his dramatics a moment, he stares at Lana before moving to drape his arms over the guitar now, “I'm sure your favorite will be back in a day or two. Then you can talk to her, and her perfect boobs.” He laughed a little.

“Ahh.” Harlow smirks a little then at the others' confession for their act in his museum. Having it all on a SanDisk in the end, not for any sort of enjoyment of his own, of course, but because people seemed to enjoy behaving in such a way at the museum all the time. Starting to strum lightly on the guitar once more, “Please, Lana. You and your friend wouldn't have been the first, and surely won't be the last, to have a little tryst on these grounds. They usually choose less empty rooms or the gardens. But. Hey. I'm not here to judge.” Bringing his right hand from the strings to his chest, he slouched over the guitar, staring at her as he slightly jutted his head out a little, raising his eyebrows, “I'm actually very glad you chose that room, a lot less chore in cleaning things up.”

He strummed the guitar again, a dramatic string of notes again, “But. I have it stored. Your naughty little 'girl thing'.” Was that creepy? Sure. He strummed absently for a time, “You can have it if you want; it's meaningless to me. Some of them who get caught tend to have the voyeurism to actually demand the footage. That's the word for it, right? I'm not sure. Regardless, they like to watch themselves in that position. It's a bit deranged, isn't it?” Harlow shrugs, careless, then points, “Well, get on with it, show me, what's in the box?”

❝ Ugh, ❞ Lana groaned, light blue eyes wandering all over the room. From single sliced lemon beside the tea cup to the guitar in his dainty, little rich-boy hands, she was not a fan of everything she was seeing. Or maybe she was just jealous of what she perceived to be his undeserved, handed-down advantage in life. Judging someone based on dubious hearsays was a terrible thing, but Lana has definitely done worse. ❝ You are so, very dramatic, Harlow. ❞ ❝ Where is the girl? Is she not doing business with me anymore? ❞ she shook her head, unintentionally letting out a scoff, as she pushed further inside the room. If she genuinely hated him, everything about him, Lana would’ve rolled her eyes. Instead, however, she took out an obviously fake Louis Vuitton x Takashi Murakami 2007 jewelry box. She heaved a sigh, if only to exaggerate her statement, ❝ I like her better. Her boobs were perfect. ❞ ❝ Oh, by the way, I hope you’re not mad about that thing during that party, ❞ she waved a hand, shrugging, as if it was nothing of importance, certainly nothing to be mad about. ❝ It was just...girl thing. ❞

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“Beautiful.” Harlow partially repeated, staring at the work, he grinned, then gave a nod. Myles had been a meticulous sort. Making sure everything was perfectly in place, presenting pieces in their most favorable light. The rest of his staff was just as ardent with their own work, making sure the entire museum ran like a well-oiled machine. But, even still, machines could fail. But there will almost always be a witness, in the end. Certainly here. Harlow thought about a few things he had seen recently at the masked gathering, most recently at the museum, and all the witnessing he…witnessed.

Looking at the artifact, the expression on his face remained neutral, nonjudgmental in that moment, whatever his thoughts might be overall. Everyone deserved a chance at the first meeting to start to tell you who they were, right? He hadn't really met Maia before now, unlike others, she chose to keep her company. Harlow simply smiled, nodding his head as Maia spoke, “It really is something. The Claíomh Solais.” He paused, telling her, it was said to have the ability to glow with the light of the sun and could easily cut through the wielder's enemies. It was truly a beautiful part of history, even if that wasn't the case in the end.

“I always enjoy the beauty of old historical artifacts. There's something more special about them.” Lately, art especially seemed to be losing its touch. At least in his personal opinion. Not all art, but some of it was…questionable. Harlow made a face at one artist coming to try and get a position in the museum with their 'piece'. But quickly pushed the thought from his mind, “I think it's much better than the modern art gallery at the moment, these old things have so much story. Whereas there, it's just, …here's a couple buckets of sand falling over-” He paused for dramatics, then gave a bit of spirit fingers/explosive hand motion, “Art! Bleh. Could have found that in a damn construction yard, and it would be a lot less pretentious. Anyway, you want to see dirt in buckets falling over-” He thumbed toward the modern art gallery, “Right over there.”

It was only the second time Maia went to the museum, and this time she was truly looking at everything it had to offer. But no matter how much she walked away from the piece it always called her back like a siren song. She didn't know how long she was staring at it. Hell, she barely even noticed someone was next to her until they spoke up. "It's absolutely beautiful." Maia said a bit breathlessly.

Maia was always a fan of artwork, apparently she got it from her father. Maia's mother rarely talked about her father but from the occasions she did, Maia pieced together that the two had met on an art heist. Which as the years passed, Maia always felt it made sense. Art was like a calling to her and it was something she wished she could dabble in. If only she wasn't as self-conscious about letting others see her work. She had studied the greats, had to if her favorite type of cons involved art forgeries, so Maia was confident in her knowledge that this one was unique. "You could really feel the emotion through it. Every time I try to move onto something else in the room I just can't."

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Starter for @hawth0rnes Where: The streets With: Rowan Hawthorne

Having been out later in the evening, which he enjoyed, seeing as not a whole lot of people were around. However, he had not been having the most delightful of eventing walks, tripping over something earlier and scuffing his elbow on a sidewalk as he was making his way home. He had never even seen what it was to begin with. Though he imagined he had kicked the thing out of view when it tripped him. Chalking down as simply being a rock or a stick. It really didn't matter. Lifting his arm up, he observed the scuffed piece of skin on his right elbow, “That's going to leave a bruise.” Tutting lightly, he dropped his arm and shook it out, ignoring the pain as he sharply turned and then slammed into someone, tumbling back from them and landing on the ground, gasping lightly as he did. Wincing a little bit he looked up, scrunching his face a bit, “My bad-” He paused, blinking, staring up at Rowan, “Hopefully I didn't hurt you with my body, I really need to watch where I'm going-” He then said, a smile forming over his lips, before suddenly pushing himself back up, popping back up, standing like it was nothing at all, he brushed himself off quickly. Then, reaching his right hand up, he absently, lightly, scratched at the side of his face. Harlow then pointed past the other, before starting to walk around Rowan. He glanced back a moment, saying, “Have a good night.”

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Starter for @nytcwl Where: Moonstone Museum With: Lana Romanova

Sitting in one of the musical instrument-themed galleries, Harlow toiled away at one of them meant for 'toying'. A guitar, replicated after another in a dream he had once. Strumming his right hand along the strings skillfully, his eyes closed, lightly humming in the large space. He liked the way the sound vibrated in this room, reverberating off the surfaces around him. He was having a little snack at the moment, opting to take his break in this room today. Not that he needed any permission for, well, anything at all. He was his own boss. But he liked to humble himself enough to set some time constraints for himself, fearing he would easily become too leisurely if he didn't. Lifting his hand up and away from the strings, he reached out toward a small table where a sliced lemon and a cup of tea were set on a small round stand.

Glancing toward the long wall of one-way reinforced tempered mirror glass in front of him, showing off a picturesque view at the moment of the museum's meticulously planned and tended backyard stretched out seemingly into beautiful botanical infinity. Lifting up the slice of lemon he had grabbed, he popped the perfectly peeled piece into his mouth, chewing it, smiling unfazed as the sourness of its juices coated his tongue. Hearing someone enter the room from behind him, he turned a bit, his bright silvery eyes moving to lock onto the person entering the room, “Have you brought me something?” He questioned, strumming the guitar in his hands in a dramatic tone, as if this were a key moment in a TV show.

[blankspaceforbadthings]

I don’t wanna die - Hollywood Undead