Picture Perfect (Laney)

[The Exodus]

OOC: Laney/Devi! BIC:

Devi Kumar

Looking around, you never would have guessed how bitterly cold Paris was this time of year. The sun was out; there was nary a cloud in the sky. Winter-blooming flowers lined the walk to the Eiffel Tower. But that February wind pierced the skin and splintered bone. Devi wrapped her arms around herself and looked over at her happy couple. The bride’s gown was strapless and without the gallons of hairspray holding her hair in place, her blond curls would be a disaster. The groom’s hair stuck up in all directions. They didn’t look happy or in love right now. They looked cold and sleepy.

“Did you bring hairspray?” she asked the bride. “Your husband-to-be has a massive case of bedhead.”

The bride shrugged and shook her head. She wrapped her arms around herself in a way that made Devi feel bad for her.

It was her choice to take wedding photos by the Eiffel Tower in the middle of winter, she thought. Devi had suggested at least five other places almost as iconic, but… well… Sometimes, the heart wants what the heart wants. And the bride’s heart was set on a totally perfect Parisian wedding. And the gorgeous, strapless dress more suited for the actual wedding in spring.

Devi stomped over to the groom and reached into her purse. She pulled a comb from it and began to fuss over his hair.

“I’m not doing this for you on your wedding day,” she groused to him. “This is a one-time deal, bucko. Got it?”

The photographer would be here any minute and Devi sure as hell wasn’t letting anyone accuse her of not being prepared for a photoshoot.

[Mel]

Laney Spencer

Creative, colorful, inventive curses flew from her lips as she walked along the road- it was never this cold in Georgia. The bottle redhead's heavy winter coat and thick layers of tights underneath were not enough to keep out the chill. "Son of a gay baby..." could be heard floating down the street, said with enough venom that the wind itself might have turned a few shades warmer in fear. It wasn't a good morning already.

Laney huddled behind her camera equipment as if it could offer some protection from the chill (It couldn't,) and stopped before the Eiffel tower. She technically wasn't supposed to do outside spreads for anyone but her editor, but this was Paris, and she could give some of the wedding photos to he magazine for the spread. With permission from the couple, of course. With a sigh, she stepped down to the happy couple and pulled on her best smile.

"Hi, i'm here for the photos!" She chirped happily in her best French- the irritation from the cold still lingered and turned her accent somewhat unintelligible.

The young photographer inspected the people in front of her while she set up her tripod.

Oh, this girl picked the wrong dress... The photographer snickered inwardly. And the guy looks like he just rolled out of bed.

Shrugging, she turned to the woman who acted like she was in charge and smiled.

""I can take over here!" Photos were her area of expertise and Laney turned to her camera, completely disregarding Devi.

[The Exodus]

Devi Kumar

Devi wrestled with the groom-to-be’s hair. It was an epic battle that made her thankful she had been blessed with genetically ideal hair. If she ever got married (Ha-ha!), Devi was determined to find a husband with tamable hair. Because there was absolutely no way she planned to wake up every morning to this kind of bird’s nest. No, thank you.

"Hi, I’m here for the photos!" someone chirruped in a next-to-unintelligible voice.

The accent, thick and American, caused Devi to look over with mild irritation. The woman who’d spoken had hair the color of red velvet cake; complete with chocolate roots. It clashed with her pale skin and vibrant eyes in a way that made Devi think, Good thing she’s behind the camera, before realizing that this photographer was not one she actually knew. Devi didn’t claim to know every wedding photographer in the city, but she knew many of the important ones. The woman setting up her camera now was barely older than Devi was herself; she was also very obviously a new transplant to the country. Devi was torn between pity and disdain for the stranger. It was a dilemma she faced daily when encountering American tourists and expats.

""I can take over here!" the photographer continued. Devi decided she didn’t like the American’s tone. In fact, she preferred the red velvet cupcake hair. She wrenched a smile to her lips and walked over to the photographer.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle,” Devi said, extending her hand for a handshake. “Devi Kumar, the wedding planner. A pleasure, I’m sure.”

[Mel]

Laney Spencer

It took the young woman a few moments to actually look up and notice Devi's extended hand. She'd been much too busy fiddling with the tripod, turning her head this way and that, trying to find the exact angle she wanted. The faint sound of someone speaking, "Bonjour mademoiselle..." was lost on Laney.

Her smile immediately jumped up a few watts, as it always did when she was speaking with someone who'd interrupted her, and she gripped the hand that was offered. The photographer had a bone-crushingly strong grip, one that didn't release once the usual handshake was done. "How do you do miss? I'm Laney, the photographer."

The brilliant smile and strong handshake stayed, as if Laney was a pre-programmed robot, while the wedding planner was inspected. This one could use some highlights... was the final appraisal. Laney nodded at Devi in what was supposed to be a friendly way (But actually was just condescending,) and turned back to the couple.

"Okay guys! I know it's as cold as the inside of an air conditioner and that this is not the best place for wedding photos, but let's make it work! I'm sure your planner didn't mean for it to be this freezing!" The implication being that it was Devi's fault they were outside in the cold.

A few experimental clicks of the camera shutters could barely be heard in the large space as Laney tested the light. "Are we ready to start?

[The Exodus]

Devi Kumar

When the photographer finally took notice of Devi, her smile lit up. And for a moment, Devi was relieved. And then came the handshake that left her feeling as if she’d just gotten her fingers caught in a bear trap. Devi’s brown eyes widened, her lips went tight, but she said nothing. She’d had her hand shaken by war veterans with less of a vise grip.

"How do you do miss? I'm Laney, the photographer."

Laney. Devi supposed that was about as American as names got. Not Lani or something with soft vowels – the nasally “ay” sound, instead, that was quintessentially American. She nodded and retracted her hand, rubbing her knuckles to massage them. She returned Laney’s condescending smirk with a crocodilian grin of her own. What was this woman playing at?

Whatever it is, two can play that game.

"Okay guys! I know it's as cold as the inside of an air conditioner and that this is not the best place for wedding photos, but let's make it work! I'm sure your planner didn't mean for it to be this freezing!"

Devi’s eyes narrowed. Of course two could play this game.

So sorry I can’t control the weather, she thought snidely.

"Are we ready to start?” Laney asked.

The groom nodded eagerly, but his bride stayed stock still. It had been her idea to do an Eiffel Tower photoshoot; Devi wondered if she knew it, or if she was mentally calculating how cost effective it would be to fire Devi. With a deep breath, Devi approached the bride.

“She’s right, you know,” Devi said. “It is cold out here.”

And then she reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of elbow length gloves. They were made of a satiny material that would look good on camera and do some good at keeping the bride’s arms warm. Devi always had a few tricks up her sleeve for this sort of thing. She offered the gloves to the bride.

“Why don’t you slip these on?” she said. Then, looking over her shoulder at the photographer, she said, “I may not be able to control the weather, but that doesn’t mean we can’t work something out.”

[Mel]

Laney Spencer

A back entered her frame view and Laney frowned, looking up from playing with the lens. She absolutely hated it when people interrupted shots, even if they were simply test photos. In the business, she was notorious for an incident involving an intern who hadn't learned of her ferocity.

When the young man crossed into her field of view, in an attempt to bring her the filter she'd asked for, Laney's temper had burst. She sent yearly letters to him, apologizing for the tripod thrown at his head. (It had been her company's idea, an effort to avoid a lawsuit.)

Realizing that it had been interrupted for only a pair of gloves, the southern drawl crept into her accent as she muttered to herself, "Baby's biscuits..."

"Could you be a dear and step out of the shot," she called over to Devi, smiling a crocodile's grin. The bottle redhead was not pleased. "I know it's cold, but our bride can take it!

Never mind the fact that she was freezing in her own light jacket. Laney was in work mode and nothing would interrupt. "Unless, of course, you'd like to be in the photos too?"

It wasn't the nicest thing she'd ever said, but too bad. She had photos to take.

[The Exodus]

Devi Kumar

Devi gritted her teeth at the photographer’s phony smile. You could hear the venom in the other woman’s words; Devi couldn’t quite tell where the poison had come from. It tasted like bitter almonds, as poison sometimes did. And Devi’s eyelid twitched in irritation.

“You can get on with your pictures in a minute,” Devi said. “I’m making my clients more comfortable. I’m sure warm and happy subjects look much better on camera than miserable and freezing ones.”

She looked at the bride, who seemed grateful for the gloves, but still goose-pimpled and cold. Devi couldn’t do much more for her, though. The groom was laughing at his soon-to-be-wife’s chattering teeth. Apology sprang to Devi’s eyes.

“In ten years, this will all be a silly anecdote for parties,” she assured the woman. “In the meantime… grin and bear it? You’re getting married.”

“I’ll have the rest of my life to ‘grin and bear it’ then, won’t I?” the bride said waspishly.

“Okay… They’re all yours!” Devi said, stepping out of frame and electing to ignore that comment. If today was an omen of any sort for this couple, they should quit while they were ahead.