(no subject)
Sometimes Blanc envied those who woke up in the morning and never had to worry about putting on the right identity with the rest of their clothing. Life seemed much simpler when you only had to be yourself for the day. But even as he pondered and silently envied, Blanc didn't have any intention of going back to his previous life. First, and most importantly, it was impossible to "go back to how things used to be" as life ran in one direction without turning back. Secondarily, Blanc enjoyed the challenge of never knowing who he would be in a given day.
Even as he sat in front of a coffee shop, a cup of hot tea on the table and a crossword puzzle in front of him, he debated adopting a new identity for the rest of the day. Perhaps he'd go to a club and masquerade as a businessman waiting on the imaginary call that would confirm the merger of two imaginary companies. Or buy a guitar and spend the rest of the day busking down in the subway for a handful of change and pity. Or maybe he'd be no one in particular and wander the streets shadowing and mimicking strangers and switching targets when they grew suspicious.
He sipped at his tea, musing over all the possibilities. There was also the option of silently observing for the rest of the day, picking up interesting traits, looks, accents, and anything else that caught his fancy and filing them away in the back of his mind for future use. Adding to the costume box, so to speak. For while each Forger had a favorite form or five of their creation to use when they weren't copying someone directly, the best Forgers never stopped creating new masterpieces. The eyes of a fish merchant from France, the mannerisms of a taxi cab driver from San Francisco, the body of a bartender in Italy, each facet of an individual could be moved and mixed to create and entirely new identity.
Blanc watched a businessman arguing on a cellphone pass by, smiling as he watched the man gesture wildly in the air with such force certainly the person on the either end of the phone would be able to feel them. Now there was material to use for later.
I did not encourage your training as an actor so you could be a criminal.
The words crossing though his mind were voiced with bitingly gentle disapproval and concern. Blanc smiled slightly and sat back in his chair. Haunted by voices and shades outside of dreams? He must be going insane.
"No, Mother, you certainly did not," he whispered quietly to himself, taking another sip of tea and focusing on particularly interesting person approaching from down the street.
((Waking world, no particular city in mind so feel free to throw them wherever. Anyone is welcome, feel free to be observing him as well.))
Even as he sat in front of a coffee shop, a cup of hot tea on the table and a crossword puzzle in front of him, he debated adopting a new identity for the rest of the day. Perhaps he'd go to a club and masquerade as a businessman waiting on the imaginary call that would confirm the merger of two imaginary companies. Or buy a guitar and spend the rest of the day busking down in the subway for a handful of change and pity. Or maybe he'd be no one in particular and wander the streets shadowing and mimicking strangers and switching targets when they grew suspicious.
He sipped at his tea, musing over all the possibilities. There was also the option of silently observing for the rest of the day, picking up interesting traits, looks, accents, and anything else that caught his fancy and filing them away in the back of his mind for future use. Adding to the costume box, so to speak. For while each Forger had a favorite form or five of their creation to use when they weren't copying someone directly, the best Forgers never stopped creating new masterpieces. The eyes of a fish merchant from France, the mannerisms of a taxi cab driver from San Francisco, the body of a bartender in Italy, each facet of an individual could be moved and mixed to create and entirely new identity.
Blanc watched a businessman arguing on a cellphone pass by, smiling as he watched the man gesture wildly in the air with such force certainly the person on the either end of the phone would be able to feel them. Now there was material to use for later.
I did not encourage your training as an actor so you could be a criminal.
The words crossing though his mind were voiced with bitingly gentle disapproval and concern. Blanc smiled slightly and sat back in his chair. Haunted by voices and shades outside of dreams? He must be going insane.
"No, Mother, you certainly did not," he whispered quietly to himself, taking another sip of tea and focusing on particularly interesting person approaching from down the street.
((Waking world, no particular city in mind so feel free to throw them wherever. Anyone is welcome, feel free to be observing him as well.))