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Post by Deleted on Oct 14, 2013 7:53:38 GMT
Mr. Kirsch is a most meticulous gentleman. He has never crashed, scratched, or scuffed his eight-year-old Cadillac, nor has a puddle touched those ten-year-old patent leather shoes. His expensive smartphone is muffed in leather and clipped securely to the waist of his pants. He is a man of excellent taste and supreme care; It is already noon, and you can still make out the toothmarks of his comb through his slicked back hair.
But Mr. Kirsch is nothing extraordinary. He is a man who has come to mirror his father, his grandfather, his great grandfather, etc. He is a man who stands with a blank expression in the elevator, breathing in time to soft jazz, and thinking about the numbers he'll have to sift through for the sake of a furniture depot or casino-resort. Numbers are his labor and his meditation. He is more sure of them than of people. With numbers, there is always a right answer. With people who do not worship numbers like he does, he tends to be incorrect.
The previous day, Mr. Kirsch lost a petty bet to Mr. Brooks, and so, he had to take over the man's case. The client's dilemma was not in the realm of his specialty, but the case was trivial and tedious; Even an associate could handle it. His new client, an actress, had been nabbed as a Peeping Tom, and a lawsuit had been shoveled into the broiler. Mr. Kirsch had never heard of the woman, and assumed she was hardly famous or anybody truly worth suing. Despite this, the settlement was in fifteen minutes, and for the sake of how much his hours cost, he did not arrive early.
Brushing past a secretary who handed him her file, he scanned the lounge of waiting folks. He could not pick her out readily, so he spoke to the whole group.
"Ms. Mitchelle," he said brusquely. "Your settlement has been reserved on the fifteenth floor. I'm Isaac Kirsch and I will be representing you. Do you have any questions?"
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Post by Deleted on Oct 14, 2013 21:46:36 GMT
To be perfectly frank, Yara didn't really want to be here. The waiting room in the fancy building was stuffy and the lounge didn't have enough fashion magazines or movie magazines. What a boring place. Even the paint was unhappy, she could feel it.
So with her head resting on the back of the seat, she stared at the ceiling until she heard a voice with her name calling for attention. She blinked three times before getting up, much like a zombie.
"Hey, don't you look fancy!" Immediately her finger was pointed at the man's combed back blondie hair. "But ye, I'm Mitchell. Nice to meet ya, call me Yara! That's my given name, see, Mr Lawyer." She grinned sheepishly, while folding out the imaginary creases on her dress.
@isaac
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Post by Deleted on Oct 18, 2013 2:25:59 GMT
"Try to be less- flamboyant." His tongue hovered, thinking of the word. Isaac was better with numbers. "We are discussing serious matters today, Yara. Lowering your voice would be favorable as well," he finished, his eyes slipping into their corners to catch the bothered expressions of Gerald Sullivan.
"Let's make our way over, then," he said coldly. His posture stiffened into a plank of wood as he turned. Her voice squeaky, and it exasperated him. When he was bothered by such things in people, his cheeks would flush. His blood pressure would rise. His nerves would make his hands shake as he stewed in their flaws. When they stepped inside the elevator, he pressed the floor's button, and mashed the 'close door' button several times.
note: im going to recolor isaac's icons to strawberry blonde just to avoid the stigma of unprofessionalism that might come with pink hair whoops, it be great if you could erase that detail >.< | @yara |
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Post by Deleted on Oct 18, 2013 21:31:55 GMT
She rose her hand as if giving an answer in a high school classroom. "Yes please!" Yara responded, ignoring everything Isaac seemed to be complaining about.
To be honest, she wasn't even sure about getting legal help. It was voices from here there and over there that convinced her to get something done. Plus, Timmy boy seemed rather upset that she seemed to be 'peeping' at him. Or whatever.
She followed behind the tall man, slightly shuffling, until she got into the lift behind him. Yara looked up at the lawyer with a strange smile.
@isaac
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Post by Deleted on Oct 19, 2013 21:51:21 GMT
Isaac was judging her. Frivolous. Air-headed. Casual. The energy in her voice hurt his ears. Beside her in the lift, Isaac looked down at her short head without the motion of his own. He gave her a subtle look because it would be awkward if she noticed. He stared at her beside him, a curiosity that ought to be scolded into monotone, a wrinkle that ought to be pressed flat.
Quite suddenly, the elevator stopped. A grinding noise reverberated from above. The lights flickered off and the jazz gurgled and cut.
Mr. Kirsch's first instinct was to take his thumb and jab the button of the floor they needed to be on. His thumb mushing the unlit button was a silly motion for a man, but his nerves had taken over. | @yara |
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Post by Deleted on Oct 20, 2013 15:04:05 GMT
Yara would've said something funny and uninteresting about Isaac looking back at her - perhaps an attempt to accuse him of 'love at first sight' or some similarly ridiculous notion.
But then, the sudden noise from above cut her thoughts off. Lift music sizzled into bland silence, but the sudden lack of light was what concerned her the most.
Not that she'd admit she was scared or even slightly concerned or anything.
"No!" She screamed, jumping onto the blonde who seemed to be pressing floor numbers. "We're trapped! We're going to die! I'm cold! Save me!" She yelped, eyes desperately searching for an answer.
"We're trapped you know! Trapped, trapped trapped in the lift! I blame you! This is all your fault!" She yelled, arms still wrapped securely around what she thought was his arm.
@isaac
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Post by Deleted on Oct 21, 2013 7:55:43 GMT
Ms. Mitchell clawed on Mr. Kirsch's arm in a manner that broke all of professional tradition. Isaac's anxiety already had him by the balls. He could feel the acid rising in his throat, like he might puke in fear, so he gulped and tried to swat the girl away from him weakly. He cringed and backed into the corner beside the buttons.
"Yes. Yes. Yes. I know. ENOUGH!" he shouted, trying to get a grip on the fact that they were locked in a box dangling at least ten stories up. His voice had cracked at some point, so he continued after clearing his throat.
"Ms. Mitchell, regardless of whose fault it is, please, do not touch me and just wait while I call somebody," he muttered, attempting to wrench his arm free. | @yara |
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Post by Deleted on Oct 23, 2013 18:36:46 GMT
When he screamed, it made Yara jump to the other side of the lift, making it bounce (a little) uncomfortably.
"Damn, you really sound like a woman! Is that how you sound on the verge of orgasm, too?" Yara blinked three times to herself, smiling at her incredibly cool joke.
"But man, you're only saying that because you don't want to admit your guilt!" Yara already turned to point at the taller lawyer man.
"But damn, if you don't like people touching you... when was the last time you got some, eh?" She rested her chin on two fingers, and tilted her head innocently.
@isaac
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Post by Deleted on Oct 27, 2013 7:49:19 GMT
His iphone was in his hand, the glowing screen lighting up his nauseous face by now. With each of Yara's snide verbal jabs, his face grew redder in the pale light. His fingers hurriedly zipped through his contacts list while his client railed his sex life. He had to remind himself that the situation was difficult. Mr. Kirsch forced himself to forgive her unprofessionalism so he could carry on with his own. It took a lot of force though. It was a mental challenge to not sit on her. She was causing the elevator to rock back and forth, though, so he had to do something about that.
"That is not an appropriate question to ask your lawyer," he said gulping, finger hovering over the contact he was looking for, "Now tell me: what do I have to do for you to calm down and, for god sakes, stop moving about like you are? It's completely and utterly my fault! Are you satisfied?"
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Post by Deleted on Nov 15, 2013 21:57:12 GMT
Her body swayed playfully, following the movements of the lift that she caused without moving a step herself.
"Man, you're blushing like a preteen!" Yara still pointed at him, finding the situation all the more amusing with such a self conscious guy. "But yeah, okay, you're my lawyer and all, but don't you be deserved to be treated like any other human being? We've all got pulses... and all that, yeah, so... I can ask you when you last got some! Yep!" Yara then nodded to herself, evidently so self assured.
"Though, gotta admit, I'm happy you took the blame." She sighed dramatically to prove her point. "Doesn't that make you happy too?"
@isaac
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Post by Deleted on Nov 22, 2013 23:47:45 GMT
Isaac squeamishly flicked through his phone, but her little steps continue to rock the box. His white knuckles clenched the handbar that wrapped around them. "I'm not blushing," he said with choked speed. As she prodded him with her logic, he seemed to writhe, doubling his efforts with his phone.
"Scandalous woman," he hissed, "I am a professional. Sex is none of my business, or yours for that matter. Of course, if you knew that, you wouldn't need my help in your matters," he blurted out, already having lost his professionalism. A hashy voice interrupted them.
"Service is working on it. Have you out in twenty minutes."
After which, Isaac closed his eyes and took slow, deep, whooshing breaths. "The last thing I am is happy, Ms. Mitchell," he said after several. His teeth were clenched like iron, fear mixed in with the glare he shot at her.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 23, 2013 0:19:20 GMT
During his little impromptu speech, Yara had quickly zoned out, instead fishing out her sleek mobile phone and pressing the little tab on the side on and off so that the phone display would flash like a lighthouse at sea in Isaac's eyes.
"You're so fun to tease!" Yara sniggered, covering her mouth with her other hand. She did, eventually, stop though. "Sex is EVERYONE'S BUSINESS!" Yara started waving her arms around like the world's future depended on it. "It's reproduction! Making babies! And of course, orgasms are pretty cool too!" She licked her lips with a coy smile.
"Although I'm totally innocent! Trust me!" She started talking over the announcement. "Are we gonna eat something after this? I'm SO HUNGRY LIKE, I COULD EAT A COW. A COW EATING GRASS."
@isaac
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