I'm a Very Important Man!

"I'm a very important man, you know," Valentine said, conversationally, to the spaniel at his feet. "I had a tower. And it was an excellent tower, at that. Huge. Hundreds of rooms, staircases that went nowhere in particular. Windows! Plenty of windows. Though... maybe not quite enough windows, come to think about it. Hindsight is always 20/20 you know, Bojangles. Possibly better than that, even. I certainly don't imagine that my eyesight could have been considered anywhere near as good back when I had my proper face. Wee little pinholes, you understand. A more philosophical man might speculate that it was because of my narrow view of the world, or some such rubbish. If you ask me, it was just narrow enough, yes sir. None of that crazy advertising being thrown in my face at every glance. No need to watch customers at the restaurant stuffing their faces ten minutes before my dinner break every day. No glancing at the so-called director snogging whatever lovely little thing he's hired on to stage manage, or props manage, or costume design, or work the sound board every spare moment of every rehearsal. He's ruining my art, you know. My vision. The world would be a better place if I directed all amateur theatre productions. If you ask me, and you should ask me, dog, because I certainly know these things, the world would be a far better place if it was all windows and pinholes."

Bojangles, for his part, simply blinked up at Valentine, and then resumed gnawing on the shoe he'd found. Valentine was just making noises again.

"And possibly ears. Does nobody from this world really know how to properly listen to brilliant words when they're offered out for free?"

[For she who lives here, should she desire, and anyone who might have a burning desire to phone up a very important man. Perhaps you're feeling particularly masochistic and would like to have your ear spoken off?]

T'was the night before Christmas
And in Valentine's flat,
A Very Important Man was stirring--
No, setting a trap.

( I don't even know. )

[I think most of the people he associated with are away for the holidays, but open for OOC, which is shiny, or phone calls if people do happen to be about. Happy Holidays!]

Valentine had gone and gotten himself a job.

It was a good job. A strong job. A decent job. A job to take pride in. A job that Valentine would pay the bills on. A job that would allow him to bring home food and new clothing and a million other things that he'd never been able to do when his sole source of income was juggling on the sidewalks. It was a job that made him square his shoulders and say,

"Valentine, you're a bloody amazing waiter."

Even if his first day at work had proven to be... slightly catastrophic. His employer had given him a second chance, and the next day had gone far more smoothly. Less boom, fire, volcanoes, more "Yes sir, may I take your order sir," and "No, ma'am, that doesn't have to come with the capers. Might I recommend the cracked peppercorns instead?"

Being a juggler, a performer, and a lover of fine food, day two of the new job had proven to be far, far more amenable than day one had been. At the rate he was going, he was in line for a raise - a raise! And perhaps someday, he might even strive to own a fine restaurant of his own. One had to dream big dreams, after all. It simply wouldn't do for him to settle with considering himself to be merely the greatest waiter Brighton had ever seen.

This accomplishment piling up onto a dozen other fantastic moments he'd had lately, Valentine settled himself in the somewhat broken-down loveseat that he and Naminé had inherited (and made a note that he'd have to replace that! With his own money!), and he picked up the telephone and dialed Fandom.

There were people he hadn't spoken to since before he left, after all.

[Nfb for distance. But open for anyone who might like a phone call from a Very Important Man.]

Valentine had gone to bed last night, a new grief for a baby girl in a floppy coat fresh in his chest alongside that other pain, the one for the girl with the huge blue eyes that he'd given his heart to before. He hadn't suspected when he went to sleep that he'd dream again, or that it would be as vibrant as the dream that had come before, after the prom, with a Naminé who was also a Kairi, sitting, and drawing, and speaking about becoming whole and going back to the beginning, all the while keeping secrets from herself.

( Last night's dream was all of that. )

[Establishy, but open to visit if you don't mind slowplay to the max.]

There was a cat, and there was a Really Useful Book, and there were drawings on the walls of towers and jugglers and of a sandcastle, and of a million other things, done up in paints and charcoals and crayons, all done in her hand.

The bed still hadn't been made.

It hadn't been slept in last night, either.

There were dresses and purple t-shirts in their laundry pile that still smelled like Naminé. Valentine had spent the night there. Clinging to the dresses while the book and the cat had laid claim to the bed.

He had no plans whatsoever to get up today.

[The door isn't open, but the post is, should anyone see a need to pay a visit.]

It was Valentine's day.

Not to be confused with Valentines Day, that commercial holiday thrown together as an excuse to spend money on chocolates and disturbing amounts of pink things. Oh no. It was far more important than that.

It was Valentine's day. And he was going to celebrate it by attempting to juggle a ball for every year he'd been alive. So far as he knew.

Given that eight balls was normally quite a challenge, nineteen was, rather predictably, nearly catastrophic. All living things in room 206 would do well to run and hide.

At least he was making a point to juggle on the side of the room opposite the flowers.

[[Go figure I have to work on my boy's birthday. Serves me right for sticking it on a hallmark holiday while I work in a place where cheap Valentines gift sales are through the roof? Valentine is totally interruptible if you don't mind that my availability is nil until later on in the evening. Happy Valentine's day!]]