Setting: Slice of Life, R for possible language

[grim_poet]

[there's a very tall, bespectacled man folded up at a table in the corner of the cafe you find yourself in. he looks like a stiff breeze would probably send him flying off into the sunset, and he's staring off into the distance, intently, a stub of gnawed pencil hovering in one hand over a battered notebook.

after a moment, he turns his head sharply and looks directly at you, as though he's been talking to you for hours, and you already know each other. you totally don't.]

Is 'aubergine' too elite an adjective, do you think? Normally I trust my own judgement, but I'm really not sure.

((A/N: Simon here is a poet who tends to write about controversial things. If there are any issues that you would rather NOT come up in the conversation, please note them in your tag header. For the most part, I will keep the details of his writing generic so as not to trigger anyone. As in his canon, it's not the end product that matters so much as the reactions to it and the things that inspire.))

Comments

[just_echoes]

[The petite brunette stops, hesitating briefly before turning her head towards the man who'd spoken. The 48 personalities in her head cycle like a Rolodex of lives, each agreeing that they did not know the stranger... and each with varying opinions on the proper use of the word aubergine (as well as a handful who simply had no idea what the word meant). She closes her eyes for the few brief seconds it takes, shoving down the slight dizziness that always accompanies this process. Opening her eyes she smiles]

In some cases it might be, but as long as the reader will understand what you mean and it fits the context of the writing [she shrugs] why not?

[grim_poet]

[why not? actually, that's a very good question. he never used to think about whether or not he was being pretentious, before. he just wrote. but now people critique him about such things, and he began to find that he was starting to care. he shouldn't, though. he can practically hear Henry reading him the riot act for even considering acting on other people's opinions]

You know, you're right. Thank you.

[he offers her a tight, but not quite awkward smile, eyes lingering. he's always been a bit of a creeper in that regard: he stares at a lot of things, especially pretty women. he can't help it, there weren't many of them in his life until fairly recently]

[just_echoes]

[Amazingly she doesn't seem phased by his lingering stare. She'd been used as a plaything for lonely, rich people for a couple of years. She knows she's beautiful and it doesn't bother her when anyone admires that.

She does, however, wonder if there was going to be anything else of this conversation or if that one spontaneous question was all he had. Her eyebrows raise slightly and she smirks]

Anything else I can help you with? I've never been a writer before but I like to read.