Clair de Lune (Marc / Laila / Open)

[Laila Roshan]

Clair de Lune, by Clause Debussy. It was a classic melody, one of the best-known to those who fancied classical music, and surely anyone walking the halls near the grand piano's room could hear that the song was currently being played.

The room itself, though, was empty-- Laila, who decided to stop and play the piano piece, was very much aware of this. She could tell if most anything around her made the slightest movement, from the walls and the floor, even to the ceiling and several feet outside the room's entrance. If anyone was walking past the room or into it, she would know-- and it would be impossible to sneak up on her. That sort of assurance shaped Laila into the relaxed person she was at present.

It could also explain why she was playing with her eyes closed...

In fact, it was because of her normal attitude, where nothing was urgent enough to rush like crazy, that allowed her to seat herself at the piano without any prearranged plans to do so. She was there because, as she caught a glimpse of the grand and elegant instrument, she decided to brush up on a few tunes-- and no further explanation was needed.

However, as was inevitably so, since other Archivists and those linked to the group were constantly bopping about the place, someone would probably enter the room and either comment on her musical skill, or simply stand there and listen-- neither of which was a problem, really. Company and a quiet audience was always nice, but if not, she could tolerate constructive criticism anyway.

It seemed like that notion would yield results, because Laila sensed for herself that someone had stopped at the doorway. Being quite the talented multitasker, she could keep considerable concentration on her music, but it was second nature for her to start ascertaining things about the person. Eyes still shut, she remained silent, allowing her visitor to stay or leave as they wished.

[Marc Stubbs]

Nothing got Marc going in the morning like listening to some good rock music, and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' song "Phenomena" was just the song to get him energized. Cruising in his car, bobbing his head back and forth, and taking periodic sips from his Sprite soda was pretty much how the man started every morning of his day. Of course there was the mandatory shower and sit-ups that went along with that routine, but why get caught up in all the details?

Pulling his car within the estate grounds, Marc was surprised to find himself arriving to "work" so early in the morning. A little upset at the fact that he didn't take that extra hour of sleep like his better judgment informed him to do, he shrugged it off and hopped out of his car towards the front door of the estate.

Opening the door to the grand mansion while twirling his keys in his hands, the man was taken by surprise to hear something coming from the far end of the estate. Narrowing his eyes and allowing his curiosity to take over, Marc followed the sounds of the melodic piano playing which grew louder and louder with every step. As he neared closer to the room where the music was emanating from, he peeked from behind the wall into the room to get a glance at the performer who was playing so beautifully. At least to a guy who played acoustic guitar on his spare time - still it sounded beautiful.

Walking further inside the room Marc arched an eyebrow while observed the musician in question. Automatically he could tell it was a female, so that was an obvious plus for him. The shiny black hair was a clear sign that the woman took good care of herself - another good sign. Though the possibility of this woman being single was slim, 2 out of 3 was still a good statistic for him.

"You play beautifully," Marc commented as he stood in front of the door way to the room, his hands clutched together behind his back. "Not exactly the genre of music I listen to, but I can recognize beauty from almost any spectrum." A small grin was playing on the corners of his lips.

[Laila Roshan]

So the person, a man, as she could tell, decided to stop in the doorway to admire her work. The idea was admirable and brought a smile to Laila's features, but she didn't let it distract just for the sake of attention. Eyes remaining shut, her fingers tapped away at the piano's keys.

This only went on until it suddenly became rude to keep playing, though, or at least to keep her attention wholly on the piano piece instead of the man's comment-- and what a flattering one it was! From across the room, Laila opened her eyes, turned her head, and beheld his ruggedly handsome look. Aside from keeping the smile on her face, his presence caused her to skip exactly one note. It seemed like her ability to multitask couldn't quite weather such attractive sights. Maybe no one would notice...

...Or she could just stop playing for the moment. If anything, this guy did want to chat...so she'd welcome the opportunity with open arms, giving him the bulk of her attention. The piano wasn't the most important feature of her day anyhow, and she always had time for a nice bit of conversation.

If only she could place where she had seen his face before, though. He was probably a regular fixture at Drayman Estate, but Laila was, for somewhat obvious reasons, much more inclined to study (and therefore remember) a person's mannerisms just as much as their face, if not more.

An acquaintance or not, Laila still felt that an introduction was the best way to keep the air welcoming and...well, maybe there could be more as well. Who knew? One thing was for sure; she didn't waste time gawking at him, for she soon made way to stand before the grand piano itself.

"Thanks," she said, unable to resist subtly looking him up and down. For some reason, she didn't want to settle for a basic image of him, where she missed out on his finer details. "It's nice to have fans."

Gradually quickening her pace, her wavy tresses sweeping over the straps of her mango-colored paisley sundress, Laila walked over with her hand held out-- and, of course, a smile beaming from her full lips. "I'm Laila. Laila Roshan. Have we met before?" If they had already met, then she was surprised she hadn't paid that close of attention.

[Marc Stubbs]

Marc had to admit that the interest in seeing what the mystery girl playing piano looked like was somewhat exciting to him. He knew instantly that if the girl was moderately-attractive, he'd probably say his "hellos" and move on the next one. If she were semi-attractive, he'd take the time to know her and possibly take the time to date her (although the chances of anything becoming serious would be slim). However, if this girl was above average-attractive, he would most definitely try all that he could to have the girl to himself. Sure it was shallow and a bit selfish of Marc to try and monopolize every beautiful girl he ran into, but he had to keep his options open. Who's to say that one of the many girls he was going out with was not the one?

Though all of those thoughts seemed to have changed once the woman turned around to greet Marc with her extraordinary beauty. For a moment, Marc had dropped all signs of emotion from his face as he stood across the room staring at her. The girl was obviously an above average-girl, if not higher on his scale, causing him to lose focus on everything around him. Realizing he was staring, Marc faked a cough and quickly look down at the ground to keep from gawking. Slowly lifting his head up again to gaze at the woman before him, Marc took steady steps towards her while she also made her way across the room, hand extended and smile showing off her dazzling smile.

"I'm Laila. Laila Roshan. Have we met before?" The man took a couple seconds to stare at the woman before him, still amazed at the sheer beauty she possed. If the woman was indeed a special like him, there would be no doubt what her ability was: to have men gawking at her every step of the way.

"Oh, I think I'd remember seeing you around here," Marc responded with a small, toothy grin. It didn't take long at all for Marc to start flirting with Laila. In fact, flirting with women was something he usually did - almost like second nature. Reluctantly releasing his hand from the woman's, Marc continued to speak. "So...Laila...I'm assuming you're an Archivist as well?" He tilted his head and awaited her response in anticipation.

[Laila Roshan]

Laila smiled rather widely when she realized what was going on with the fellow at her front. Watching his sheepishly stare meeting the floor, it was fairly clear she stole his eye. While Laila thought he wasn't bad-looking either, her usual placid, jovial veneer wasn't something that would soon be broken for the sake of mutual attraction.

Though her posture reflected her classic bravado, fluid and comfortable, Laila did, however, slightly avert her gaze for a brief spell and laugh at the man's flattery. Raising a hand to her mouth, she let it slide to her chin and stay there momentarily, the opposite arm crossed over her front. Suddenly, she couldn't stop smiling if she tried. Shifting her weight to one foot, she seemed to sidestep afterward, as though her subconscious was willing her to sit in the comfortable-looking burgundy armchair off to the side, flanked by full bookshelves.

"You assumed right," her smile pulled to the side, akin to a smirk, I'm also an Archivist." Laila went ahead and assumed he was one as well, since, if he had brought up her involvement with the group, then there was no doubt he was trying to seek common ground. She respected that.

She did take quick note of one missing detail that, although she could overlook it, would largely benefit the conversation and break the ice even quicker-- though from her standpoint, the ice had already melted away. He knew her name, but she didn't know what to call him-- at least not off the top of her head, anyway. She also wasn't sure that cutesy nicknames based on his good looks would cut it. "But...did you tell me your name?"

[Marc Stubbs]

Marc nearly knocked himself upside the head with his fist as he realized what he had just done. He had never been one to forget to introduce himself, especially to an attractive woman such as Laila.

"Excuse my manners." Marc apologized with an embarrassed look on his face. Again, something else that never happened. "Marc...Marc Stubbs. Pleasure to meet you."

'A pleasure indeed, he thought to himself as he observed the woman before him in what could only be described again as gawking. Trying to find something to distract him from staring at the woman any more. "S-So, have you been playing piano long, or is it one of those instances when you finally taught yourself after so many years? Either way you play beautifully, more than I can. 'Chopsticks' is the only thing I've ever learned to play, barely."

Finding it difficult to stand and keep from staring at the woman, Marc decided it best if the two of them sat down and continued their discussion. Extending his hand towards the burgundy chair near the giant bookshelf, Marc quickly grabbed a lone chair off to the side of the room and set it adjacent in front of Laila's chair. Sitting down he looked up at the woman and awaited her to join him.

[Laila Roshan]

"Charmed," Laila chirruped in return, after being told the man's short, sweet name; Marc. Marc Stubbs. While she did think a bit on how he didn't look very stubby, she kept her mouth shut-- he'd probably heard that one a million times anyway, and aside from that, she just wasn't the kind of person to make fun of someone's name at all.

"I've been playing piano since I was about six or seven, on and off," Laila said, "And I guess I've always had a knack for it."

Moving on to more important things, it seemed like their minded intended the same thing, as, when Marc fumbled through the conversation he stirred up pertaining to her piano-playing aptitude, she was closer to the armchair than ever. Not only that, but she was directed its way so as to take a seat. She thanked goodness itself that she wasn't hurried to leave whatsoever at that point. Things were just getting started, so it seemed when Marc wanted her to sit.

Though she laughed at his prior mention of his own musical talents, Laila, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, still felt touched by sympathy. "There's nothing wrong with not knowing how to play. Some of us are gifted at some things, and others at...well, others," she chuckled, realizing she had repeated herself for the sake of making some shred of sense.

Leaning back in her seat and daintily crossing her legs, her arms were crossed over her lap, and her eyebrows soon raised. Her lips were curved with mirth when she spoke, "I'm sure there are plenty of things you're good at that I could never even try to do." Double meaning or not, it was probably true. She had no problem admitting she wasn't perfection personified.

[Marc Stubbs]

Watching as the woman twirled a strand of hair around her finger forced Marc to give a mischievous grin towards her. He unintentionally leaned in closer to the woman as she continued to speak about...well, he really wasn't listening to her but her mouth sure did attractive when she spoke. As Laila leaned back in her own seat she opened that attractive mouth of hers to speak with Marc once more, "I'm sure there are plenty of things you're good at that I could never even try to do." Marc only chuckled as he leaned back in his own chair, adjusting the coat jacket he was wearing over his favorite shirt.

"Ya never know," Marc responded as smoothly as possible. "Some people have to learn to do things, while others are naturally born with...special talents. Perhaps someday we should get together and, how should I say, compare and contrast the things we're good at doing. Of course I wouldn't want to be pulling away from any prior engagement you may have with your significant other.

Marc was sleek with his words. He didn't come right out and ask the woman if she was indeed with a relationship, but moved his words around so that his comment came out a lot more natural and unintentional. That way he'd know if the woman was single or not - not that it would have stopped him from flirting with the girl and possibly asking her out on a date...but when a third party was involved, it proved a bit more difficult.

[Laila Roshan]

Laila's eyebrows perked, touched by curiosity. He was certainly forward, more than she would have guessed, but it was somewhat endearing. He wasn't one of those guys who just couldn't spit out what he really meant, or tiptoed around the matter because he was too bashful to admit he liked her. It was refreshing to see that he said what he meant.

Well, either case had its merits, since some shy guys were cute in their own timid way, and likewise, outspoken guys said things that didn't need to be heard. However, she knew strongly that such rules about people were made to be broken, which she saw countless times throughout her life. Ah, how great the human race was to spawn such endless variety among them!

"Sounds like a good time," Laila said, feeling a long strand of hair between her fingers. "Very...enjoyable." She aimed her deep, chocolate-brown eyes at him, gazing upon the blueness of his own. His eye color was very soothing, in its own way, but it stood out just as well. "But you won't have to worry about time. My schedule's pretty free." She could have mentioned her job, but details were best saved for later.

Since she was playing into his plan, she wound up feeling a bit...'fluttery', for lack of a better term. Her fingertips felt a beguiling tingle, which wound up sweeping the surface of her skin like goosebumps. Averting eye contact, she chuckled a bit, but her reply seemed harder to say than she could have planned. Perhaps the sensation she felt was more to blame than she thought.

"I don't usually have plans. I'm single."