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Aoiroo

Two for the Show (IC)

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The Kirby was an excellant back drop for a gala. During the day it was open for the general public, and usually closed at night, but tonight it had been privately booked for the showing of a traveling collection of both rare and eclectic arts that had been traveling recently around Europe. It was a grand occasion for the arts community in Freedom and tickets had been sold out for several weeks, but that meant absolutely nothing to the well shaped woman in her emerald green dress that covered more then she would of liked it too. In fact, it was almost too easy getting past those sweet security guards into the main hall. Though however tempting they were, she was sure there was better pickings to be had.

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Carson was enjoying himself, perusing the various displays of arts of all sorts. About the only things missing were music and theater. And even those were represented with a small collection of various classical compositions and plays, albeit the sheet music and scripts rather than actual performances.

He particularly enjoyed the collection of Irish arts, including the Middle Ages works. He wasn't a huge art buff outside of his immediate field, but even he could enjoy such pieces of classic beauty.

He'd actually been surprised he'd gotten tickets, but the theater department director at Freedom College had an extra ticket, and Carson couldn't pass up the chance.

He stopped in front of a display of a few ceremonial armor pieces from Ireland, England, and Scotland. Obviously too ornate to be worn in battle, they were nonetheless fascinating to look at.

"Hm. They look great, but I wonder how comfortable some of these poor boys were in these getups?" he mused aloud.

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Quentin wandered the gala sniffing out anything particularly dusty and interesting looking. It wasn't particularly difficult. History was not exactly his forte, but it was a pleasant intellectual diversion, as he termed it.

If only the place wasn't so damned packed. He had never liked crowds, and still didn't. At least he wouldn't be the centre of attention here. His characteristic tweed jacket and bow tie fitted in reasonably well amongst the intellectuals and pseudo-intellectuals milling around.

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Craig was with his mom and dad, Diana and Fred Carter, who had gotten tickets almost as soon as they were being sold. While his parents were fascinated by most kinds of art, Craig liked large metal or stone sculptures, appreciating the work that was put into it, and not much else. "I guess art appreciation skips a generation in the Carter family. Geez, I don't even know where anything is located. Ah well." Turning towards his parents, who were admiring a painting, he lightly sighed, put on a nice face, and decided to just stick around hoping that something would catch his eye.

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The crowds moved from one area to the next, a lot of them following a pattern of pieces. Very few of them stayed at one piece very long, but one woman spent a very maticulous amount of time observing several pieces. Dressed in a lightly colored tweed pant suit with a light colored blouse, she stayed around and let the currently between wives legacy she was attending with jabber on about some obscure context of the piece that he was trying to grab her attention. The piece itself was collection of pictures and paintings that overlapped each other to make a larger more impressive landscape. The measurements couldn't more then about six by six, maybe six by eight, either way, she knew of just the spot, turning to look at her 'date' she could only catch a glimpse but somehow managed to spot a woman in green who was on the prowl. Though she scoffed at first in recognition, it did get her thinking,

Maybe that tarty scanger can be of use this time.

Moving away from the painting and too the bar she started ordering drinks so her accompaniment wouldn't miss her when things started to get messy.

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Carson had moved on from the armor exhibits, and was just wandering the aisles at the moment. He thought maybe there ought to be more security around, but they were probably just staying out of sight and all that.

Unfortunately, he didn't totally watch where he was going, occupied as he was with a combination of watching the exhibits, wondering about security, and maybe glancing at some of the pretty young ladies around. Thus, he ended up running into someone.

It just happened that this "someone" was Professor Quentin. Carson caught himself before he stumbled, and helped steady the other man.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, good sir! I just got clumsy here! You alright sir?"

His earnest Irish voice ought to make Quentin feel at least a touch more at ease.

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