Anders and John, this afternoon 8/10/2013
Oct. 8th, 2013 02:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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om_mainAnders needs a new model for a new project for class, John made the offer. Anders is pretty sure he's going to regret this...
Anders was sure it was a bad idea from the moment it was suggested to him but it was too late to back out now. He still hadn't decided what he thought about his new room-mate or, to be honest, if he even liked the kid but he needed new photos and models to progress. Using the same few models all the time was apparently stunted his creativity (thanks so much for that, Jinadu!).
They'd set up in the room next to the art room, clearing the furniture out of the way to make a very basic set. Now he was just waiting for John to arrive.
When he did, he was dressed surprisingly sedately. Anders hadn't really specified anything, so he was just in a few layers. And, of course, flicking his lighter back and forth between two fingers. "Hello, hello, roommate mine. I am prepared to be today's sacrifice to Bragi. Or--is there another god of art somewhere in there you have to share with? I forget."
"Bragi's the God of poetry, eloquence, and boasting. Wit, cunning and all forms of art are his domain." And perfectly appropriate for him, he felt. "Do you know anything about Nordic myth? The God of fire, for instance?"
"Some, yeah, but I didn't know there was a god of fire," John said, coming over to examine Anders' equipment.
"Loki. The red haired God who'd do anything for a laugh even if it was fucking mental. Sound familiar?" Anders chuckled as he let the other boy look at his camera. Just so long as it didn't get torched of course. He trusted Johnny as far as he could throw him, about as much as anyone would trust Loki in fact.
John cackled. "I didn't know he was the god of fire--just knew he was a trickster--but it all makes sense now. Thought I liked him for a reason."
"He also shagged a horse and a giant...not at the same time if memory serves." He added as he took his camera back. "Ok, so uh, how do you want to do this? Any particulars or requests?"
"You're the photographer." John shrugged. "I mean, I can pose in some ridiculous way. Like maybe for a book cover. He dropped to the floor and stretched out, pulling a particularly dramatic emo heroine pose with one arm over his face. "What do you think?"
Anders pulled a suitably disgusted face but lined up the shot anyway. He'd wanted a new model after all, this was his suffering for his art. He'd so need a beer after this. Maybe a whiskey.
John giggled, peeking out from beneath his arm. "Oh come off it, mate, you're loving it. Maybe you can shoot my first cover."
"Yeah, dream come true." Was shot back sarcastically though he was grinning a little. Ok so he wasn't sure about the bloke but he didn't have a stick up his arse and a holier than thou attitude like Braddock at least.
"Thought so!" John laughed some more and did a few more goofy poses, before leaning back on his hands and looking up at Anders. "Really, though, aren't you meant to pose me like some kind of shop mannequin? Like hold your arms like this and look dead serious and thoughtful and do a Napoleon pose?"
"I don't like doing it that way, weirdly enough, I like photographing the person not what I've made them be. I might prompt a bit but I prefer it to come from the person so, like, Harley flipping about and Vance pulling faces. It all looks way more natural, you know?" He kept taking photos as he explained, relaxing into what he doing for the moment. The red of Johnny's hair versus his ridiculously pale skin was pretty striking in some of these shots actually.
"Oh, that's brilliant," John said brightly. He hopped to his feet and pulled up a stool from a nearby table, then started playing with his lighter and whatever random things he found lying around. Just pretending Anders didn't have a camera and being his usual weird self without a second thought. "You want to be a photographer, or do you reckon it's more of a hobby?"
The lighter playing had become both familiar and unnerving to Anders since he didn't quite trust him (he'd called himself Pyro for crying out loud!) still he kept snapping without a moments hesitation.
"Not much money in it unless you get lucky. I wanna go into PR, with my mutation I'll make a fucking killing before I'm 25."
"Isn't that just the truth." John pulled up one leg and let his head rest against his knee, thinking. "I wouldn't want to work with my fire though--feels like it'd suck the joy out of it. Then again I do want to sell a book or fifty so I guess it's just a matter of different things plucking different heartstrings."
"You're serious about this writing stuff then?" He put the camera down to adjust the lighting a little. Some things could be fixed digitally but he still wanted some semblance of control for now.
John's brow furrowed, his expression taking on a sincerity and solemnity that was so rare as to be out of place. "I never joke about writing."
The seriousness surprised Anders who immediately pointed out "Mate, I've known you like 5 minutes. Just asking."
That earned him slight cocking of John's head--curiosity, as he didn't understand Anders' reaction--though the uncharacteristically somber expression remained otherwise. "I don't mind."
Anders shot him an almost identical expression, John'd been the one to get so weird and serious after all. He so did not get this kid.
"Right..." He picked his camera but up and started checking the focus.
And John got lost in his head for a moment, wondering how he could use this. Maybe Alia was taking pictures of Belinda in the woods--both during her long seasons trapped in her tree form and in the short time she'd have in her human/fae one--yes, perfect! He scratched at his close-cropped hair with one hand and tucked away his lighter, lips moving in a silent conversation between the two imaginary lovers.
Anders had started snapping again despite being a little disturbed by the behaviour. Only a little because it seriously reminded him of his cousin Olaf the last time they'd gotten mashed together. He never had found out who Ollie's deal was, he always had the best grass and shrooms though.
"Are you all there, mate?" He asked after a while.
John had just got to the bit where human/fae Belinda decided to strip off for the photos, but Anders' voice snapped him back into reality. Initially his expression was one of annoyance, but then he remembered what he was meant to be doing and smiled. "I wasn't, actually. I was thinking of a story.
"I should take my shirt off." He hopped off the stool and started peeling layers.
"Uh. What? Why?" Kiwi caught in headlights right there.
John was already flinging his outer shirt to the side. "It's part of the thing. You have to photograph people in less. Less armor. Less facade. It's like writing a sex scene, isn't it?"
Anders had actually found himself nodding along until that sex scene bit when he just balked. What the hell was Johnny getting at with a comment like that?
John paused with the undershirt sort of around his elbows, considering. "There's an interesting reaction. Anyone ever taken pictures of you?"
It took a second to unstick his throat "Family snaps. Nothing like this. Why?"
"You have some funny reactions to things, is all. I wonder what they'd look like frozen." John wrinkled up his nose, though, uncertain as to whether it'd be useful or not. More research was needed for his bastard with a heart of gold, clearly.
Oh well, he was into it now. "Right, get me with it half-off here and I'll do the rest. It's like the middle psychological state, walls coming down."
This was all a bit to fucking weird for Anders but no way was he going to back down or run away. He'd never hear the end of it, would he?
John had a great deal of practice observing others; when traveling with his mother, it was what had given him the idea to start writing his own books in the first place. Peoples' expressions and body language, when he pulled out of his own head enough to notice them, baffled him, and making up his own explanations for them and setting them down on paper as a story was the best entertainment in the world.
Now he had turned his own internal lens on the photographer, theories began to present themselves. John grinned and chucked aside his undershirt, leaving him bare from the waist up, the waistband of his jocks peeking out of his jeans a few inches below his navel. Wasn't much of a trail there, but what there was proved that he was a red-head through and through.
He tightened up a little; he didn't have an impressive physique or anything, but he'd been out running around in the bush (not really, but still) and practicing bowling and things for the past few months, so it wasn't bad, at least. Just to give a little prod and test the theory, he asked with a huge smile. "There, how's that?"
"Er, yeah, sure. Just don't go any further. Not sure the teachers would be too happy." And Anders really wouldn't be either.
His jaw clenched a little as he kept going, after all he was doing schoolwork. If he stopped photographing then the situation basically became his roommate stripping for him which was, well, more than a bit gay. Which he totally wasn't.
John grinned. "Yeah? Think it'd be more suspect than, say, Alice on your pillow in a photo?" Extra hilarious points for Anders actually commenting that she always looked good in his sheets.
"That one wasn't for class." Anders informed him, a fleeting grin at the memory.
"Ohhh." John nodded knowingly and slipped his hands into his pockets, which pulled his jeans down a bit more in front. "I get it; there's a sort of private collection. Good character point there, too."
Lazily, but with absolute intention, John stretched upwards like a large ginger tabby. "Ahhh, well, not you, roommate mine, but someone very like a caricature of you, anyhow. I dunno if you'd like him much, frankly."
"Depends on if the caricature is taking the piss too much, I guess. Or were you just suggesting that if I met me, I wouldn't like me?" Anders smirked back a little. "He got a name yet?"
"Both," John replied with perfect honesty, turning to the side to look over at some poster or another on the wall. He stretched his arms behind his back now, lacing his fingers just behind him and pulling. "You can name him if you like. Go on, give us a good one."
Anders couldn't shake the feeling that the other guy was deliberately trying to winding him up with the way he was moving but did his best to overcome it. He could get through this.
"Dunno if that's my area mate. Want to hear Norse myth then I'm your man but I'm not so much with the writing side of shit."
"I'm not asking for anything requiring skill; just a name," John said reasonably, flexing by flipping his fingers inside out and stretching again. Upping the discomfort was amusing him greatly, though he still wasn't sure of the precise source of it, he had at least got the general idea.
What better for it than to quote the most famous love story of all time, then? "You know what they say: That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title."
"Switching cameras." Anders muttered before turning his back on his room-mate to head over to his bag. "You want a name? Well, uh, Alex. How's that sound?"
"Alex--Alexander, that's a good name. Strong name. Like the Great." John struck a thoughtful pose--though again, his choice of topic was purposeful. Probing the wound a little, trying to see what interesting associations might be made and reactions would fall out. "Always been a favorite of mine."
"Dunno much about him." Was shrugged as the Kiwi returned. "Not my area of history really."
"Never lost a battle," John chirped. "Except between Hephaestion's thighs. That's the joke, anyhow."
"That's lovely mate, no clue what you're banging on about. Like most of the time." He was pretty sure he did have a clue though and didn't like it so was ignoring for now. "You, uh, wanna put one of those other shirts on or something?"
"All right, if you think you've captured my naked essence already." John turned away to see what there was to work with. Smirking to himself.
"Seen more than enough of it, thanks."
"Aw, that's sweet." John picked up a sort of netting-looking shirt and tugged it over his head. "You're very welcome."
Oh Jesus, did he really own a gay shirt like that? Christ.
"You're a weird dude, Loki. Ya know that?" Anders shot back as he played with the settings a little.
John straightened the shirt out and grabbed something to put over it. For now. "But at least I'm not a sheep. Though, I dunno, you might prefer it." He giggled and looked over his shoulder to waggle his eyebrows. Kiwis and their sheep, honestly!
"Where I'm from, it's your people that're the sheep shaggers." Anders rolled his eyes, showing a middle finger before reaching for the other thing he'd grabbed from his bag. A bottle of seemingly innocent coke, because, fuck, he needed strength right now. Not too much, just enough to get through.
"Wrong again, Kiwiland," John said with another cackle. In truth, he did think about half of his home country was peopled with sheep shaggers; he just couldn't help himself trolling Anders. It was getting to be quite the hobby. "Are you on break, man?"
"I was waiting for you to dress or would you have rather I watched?" The other boy shot back as he screwed the lid back onto his spiked coke.
"I would think that your camera would watch," John replied, pulling out his lighter and flicking again. It lit up his face, in particular his eyes, which always went a little wild in the presence of flame anyhow. "That's not the same as you watching--unless we're talking about the private collection, I suppose."
"Oh fuck off." He rolled his eyes, words not spoken as harshly as he might have had he not just had a little rum to calm to nerves. "I didn't think it was part of the shoot, let's just get on with it yeah?"
John just cackled and made a little bow. "Oh, I could do this all day."
Anders was sure it was a bad idea from the moment it was suggested to him but it was too late to back out now. He still hadn't decided what he thought about his new room-mate or, to be honest, if he even liked the kid but he needed new photos and models to progress. Using the same few models all the time was apparently stunted his creativity (thanks so much for that, Jinadu!).
They'd set up in the room next to the art room, clearing the furniture out of the way to make a very basic set. Now he was just waiting for John to arrive.
When he did, he was dressed surprisingly sedately. Anders hadn't really specified anything, so he was just in a few layers. And, of course, flicking his lighter back and forth between two fingers. "Hello, hello, roommate mine. I am prepared to be today's sacrifice to Bragi. Or--is there another god of art somewhere in there you have to share with? I forget."
"Bragi's the God of poetry, eloquence, and boasting. Wit, cunning and all forms of art are his domain." And perfectly appropriate for him, he felt. "Do you know anything about Nordic myth? The God of fire, for instance?"
"Some, yeah, but I didn't know there was a god of fire," John said, coming over to examine Anders' equipment.
"Loki. The red haired God who'd do anything for a laugh even if it was fucking mental. Sound familiar?" Anders chuckled as he let the other boy look at his camera. Just so long as it didn't get torched of course. He trusted Johnny as far as he could throw him, about as much as anyone would trust Loki in fact.
John cackled. "I didn't know he was the god of fire--just knew he was a trickster--but it all makes sense now. Thought I liked him for a reason."
"He also shagged a horse and a giant...not at the same time if memory serves." He added as he took his camera back. "Ok, so uh, how do you want to do this? Any particulars or requests?"
"You're the photographer." John shrugged. "I mean, I can pose in some ridiculous way. Like maybe for a book cover. He dropped to the floor and stretched out, pulling a particularly dramatic emo heroine pose with one arm over his face. "What do you think?"
Anders pulled a suitably disgusted face but lined up the shot anyway. He'd wanted a new model after all, this was his suffering for his art. He'd so need a beer after this. Maybe a whiskey.
John giggled, peeking out from beneath his arm. "Oh come off it, mate, you're loving it. Maybe you can shoot my first cover."
"Yeah, dream come true." Was shot back sarcastically though he was grinning a little. Ok so he wasn't sure about the bloke but he didn't have a stick up his arse and a holier than thou attitude like Braddock at least.
"Thought so!" John laughed some more and did a few more goofy poses, before leaning back on his hands and looking up at Anders. "Really, though, aren't you meant to pose me like some kind of shop mannequin? Like hold your arms like this and look dead serious and thoughtful and do a Napoleon pose?"
"I don't like doing it that way, weirdly enough, I like photographing the person not what I've made them be. I might prompt a bit but I prefer it to come from the person so, like, Harley flipping about and Vance pulling faces. It all looks way more natural, you know?" He kept taking photos as he explained, relaxing into what he doing for the moment. The red of Johnny's hair versus his ridiculously pale skin was pretty striking in some of these shots actually.
"Oh, that's brilliant," John said brightly. He hopped to his feet and pulled up a stool from a nearby table, then started playing with his lighter and whatever random things he found lying around. Just pretending Anders didn't have a camera and being his usual weird self without a second thought. "You want to be a photographer, or do you reckon it's more of a hobby?"
The lighter playing had become both familiar and unnerving to Anders since he didn't quite trust him (he'd called himself Pyro for crying out loud!) still he kept snapping without a moments hesitation.
"Not much money in it unless you get lucky. I wanna go into PR, with my mutation I'll make a fucking killing before I'm 25."
"Isn't that just the truth." John pulled up one leg and let his head rest against his knee, thinking. "I wouldn't want to work with my fire though--feels like it'd suck the joy out of it. Then again I do want to sell a book or fifty so I guess it's just a matter of different things plucking different heartstrings."
"You're serious about this writing stuff then?" He put the camera down to adjust the lighting a little. Some things could be fixed digitally but he still wanted some semblance of control for now.
John's brow furrowed, his expression taking on a sincerity and solemnity that was so rare as to be out of place. "I never joke about writing."
The seriousness surprised Anders who immediately pointed out "Mate, I've known you like 5 minutes. Just asking."
That earned him slight cocking of John's head--curiosity, as he didn't understand Anders' reaction--though the uncharacteristically somber expression remained otherwise. "I don't mind."
Anders shot him an almost identical expression, John'd been the one to get so weird and serious after all. He so did not get this kid.
"Right..." He picked his camera but up and started checking the focus.
And John got lost in his head for a moment, wondering how he could use this. Maybe Alia was taking pictures of Belinda in the woods--both during her long seasons trapped in her tree form and in the short time she'd have in her human/fae one--yes, perfect! He scratched at his close-cropped hair with one hand and tucked away his lighter, lips moving in a silent conversation between the two imaginary lovers.
Anders had started snapping again despite being a little disturbed by the behaviour. Only a little because it seriously reminded him of his cousin Olaf the last time they'd gotten mashed together. He never had found out who Ollie's deal was, he always had the best grass and shrooms though.
"Are you all there, mate?" He asked after a while.
John had just got to the bit where human/fae Belinda decided to strip off for the photos, but Anders' voice snapped him back into reality. Initially his expression was one of annoyance, but then he remembered what he was meant to be doing and smiled. "I wasn't, actually. I was thinking of a story.
"I should take my shirt off." He hopped off the stool and started peeling layers.
"Uh. What? Why?" Kiwi caught in headlights right there.
John was already flinging his outer shirt to the side. "It's part of the thing. You have to photograph people in less. Less armor. Less facade. It's like writing a sex scene, isn't it?"
Anders had actually found himself nodding along until that sex scene bit when he just balked. What the hell was Johnny getting at with a comment like that?
John paused with the undershirt sort of around his elbows, considering. "There's an interesting reaction. Anyone ever taken pictures of you?"
It took a second to unstick his throat "Family snaps. Nothing like this. Why?"
"You have some funny reactions to things, is all. I wonder what they'd look like frozen." John wrinkled up his nose, though, uncertain as to whether it'd be useful or not. More research was needed for his bastard with a heart of gold, clearly.
Oh well, he was into it now. "Right, get me with it half-off here and I'll do the rest. It's like the middle psychological state, walls coming down."
This was all a bit to fucking weird for Anders but no way was he going to back down or run away. He'd never hear the end of it, would he?
John had a great deal of practice observing others; when traveling with his mother, it was what had given him the idea to start writing his own books in the first place. Peoples' expressions and body language, when he pulled out of his own head enough to notice them, baffled him, and making up his own explanations for them and setting them down on paper as a story was the best entertainment in the world.
Now he had turned his own internal lens on the photographer, theories began to present themselves. John grinned and chucked aside his undershirt, leaving him bare from the waist up, the waistband of his jocks peeking out of his jeans a few inches below his navel. Wasn't much of a trail there, but what there was proved that he was a red-head through and through.
He tightened up a little; he didn't have an impressive physique or anything, but he'd been out running around in the bush (not really, but still) and practicing bowling and things for the past few months, so it wasn't bad, at least. Just to give a little prod and test the theory, he asked with a huge smile. "There, how's that?"
"Er, yeah, sure. Just don't go any further. Not sure the teachers would be too happy." And Anders really wouldn't be either.
His jaw clenched a little as he kept going, after all he was doing schoolwork. If he stopped photographing then the situation basically became his roommate stripping for him which was, well, more than a bit gay. Which he totally wasn't.
John grinned. "Yeah? Think it'd be more suspect than, say, Alice on your pillow in a photo?" Extra hilarious points for Anders actually commenting that she always looked good in his sheets.
"That one wasn't for class." Anders informed him, a fleeting grin at the memory.
"Ohhh." John nodded knowingly and slipped his hands into his pockets, which pulled his jeans down a bit more in front. "I get it; there's a sort of private collection. Good character point there, too."
Well, less 'private collection' and more 'making a point to certain students' but yeah.
"Still planning to write about me? I meant what I said about royalties." Anders warned, he was looking up to John as little as possible though, distinctly uncomfortable as he took the photos. He was rushing over it as much as he could but yeah. He could already hear the kind of comments Foley and Ford would make if they saw he'd taken photos like this.
Lazily, but with absolute intention, John stretched upwards like a large ginger tabby. "Ahhh, well, not you, roommate mine, but someone very like a caricature of you, anyhow. I dunno if you'd like him much, frankly."
"Depends on if the caricature is taking the piss too much, I guess. Or were you just suggesting that if I met me, I wouldn't like me?" Anders smirked back a little. "He got a name yet?"
"Both," John replied with perfect honesty, turning to the side to look over at some poster or another on the wall. He stretched his arms behind his back now, lacing his fingers just behind him and pulling. "You can name him if you like. Go on, give us a good one."
Anders couldn't shake the feeling that the other guy was deliberately trying to winding him up with the way he was moving but did his best to overcome it. He could get through this.
"Dunno if that's my area mate. Want to hear Norse myth then I'm your man but I'm not so much with the writing side of shit."
"I'm not asking for anything requiring skill; just a name," John said reasonably, flexing by flipping his fingers inside out and stretching again. Upping the discomfort was amusing him greatly, though he still wasn't sure of the precise source of it, he had at least got the general idea.
What better for it than to quote the most famous love story of all time, then? "You know what they say: That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title."
"Switching cameras." Anders muttered before turning his back on his room-mate to head over to his bag. "You want a name? Well, uh, Alex. How's that sound?"
"Alex--Alexander, that's a good name. Strong name. Like the Great." John struck a thoughtful pose--though again, his choice of topic was purposeful. Probing the wound a little, trying to see what interesting associations might be made and reactions would fall out. "Always been a favorite of mine."
"Dunno much about him." Was shrugged as the Kiwi returned. "Not my area of history really."
"Never lost a battle," John chirped. "Except between Hephaestion's thighs. That's the joke, anyhow."
"That's lovely mate, no clue what you're banging on about. Like most of the time." He was pretty sure he did have a clue though and didn't like it so was ignoring for now. "You, uh, wanna put one of those other shirts on or something?"
"All right, if you think you've captured my naked essence already." John turned away to see what there was to work with. Smirking to himself.
"Seen more than enough of it, thanks."
"Aw, that's sweet." John picked up a sort of netting-looking shirt and tugged it over his head. "You're very welcome."
Oh Jesus, did he really own a gay shirt like that? Christ.
"You're a weird dude, Loki. Ya know that?" Anders shot back as he played with the settings a little.
John straightened the shirt out and grabbed something to put over it. For now. "But at least I'm not a sheep. Though, I dunno, you might prefer it." He giggled and looked over his shoulder to waggle his eyebrows. Kiwis and their sheep, honestly!
"Where I'm from, it's your people that're the sheep shaggers." Anders rolled his eyes, showing a middle finger before reaching for the other thing he'd grabbed from his bag. A bottle of seemingly innocent coke, because, fuck, he needed strength right now. Not too much, just enough to get through.
"Wrong again, Kiwiland," John said with another cackle. In truth, he did think about half of his home country was peopled with sheep shaggers; he just couldn't help himself trolling Anders. It was getting to be quite the hobby. "Are you on break, man?"
"I was waiting for you to dress or would you have rather I watched?" The other boy shot back as he screwed the lid back onto his spiked coke.
"I would think that your camera would watch," John replied, pulling out his lighter and flicking again. It lit up his face, in particular his eyes, which always went a little wild in the presence of flame anyhow. "That's not the same as you watching--unless we're talking about the private collection, I suppose."
"Oh fuck off." He rolled his eyes, words not spoken as harshly as he might have had he not just had a little rum to calm to nerves. "I didn't think it was part of the shoot, let's just get on with it yeah?"
John just cackled and made a little bow. "Oh, I could do this all day."
