"Mr. De Vries... would you care for some tea?" Glancing up from the blank canvas that had been sitting in the same spot for weeks, untouched, the man's light gaze settled on the wheeling cart pushed in by an elder man--- the soft aroma of tea instantly wafting through the sunlit room. Pushing his chair back, the young man stood and motioned for him to enter before allowing his eyes to drift back onto the canvas as the other gently closed the door and pushed the cart toward him. Paying no attention as his butler fiddled with the cups and hot water, the young man stared at the white stretch of canvas long and hard--- eyebrows knitted together and lips tugged down in a light frown. For weeks now, he had been entering that very room, walking toward the corner where a canvas was propped on an easel with clean brushes and oils organized on the side, each and every intention of plopping down and creating something set on his mind. However, unlike the many times before then, his mind would simply... draw a blank. Nothing he thought of seemed reasonable, or rather, worth the effort. Nothing called to his attention. Each and every idea seemed dull; nothing he wanted his name associated with by any means. After all, Lucian De Vries was known for his... his... "Mr. De Vries?" Drawn out of his thoughts by the voice of his butler, Lucian let out a sigh and ran a hand through his light blonde hair, attention turning to the cup offered to him. Taking the expensive porcelain in this slender hands, he took a seat on the cushioned stool and brought the cup toward his face. Inhaling the soft swirl of the sweet aroma, Lucian's brown eyes fluttered shut and his shoulders relaxed. Taking a sip, he allowed the tea to roll around on his tongue before swallowing and nodded appreciatively. Glancing up toward his butler, he grinned lightly. "Wonderful as always, Charles." The older man, easily in his late fifties, nodded, a slight crinkle to his eyes noticeable."Thank you, sir." Slowly, he cleaned up the tea set before cupping his hands in front of him, watching Lucian stare at the canvas as he sipped occasionally at the tea. After a moment's silence, he finally decided to speak. "Sir.. If I may be so bold as to suggest an outing?" His soft voice broke the silence, and after receiving Lucian's encouraging glance, Charles cleared his throat and continued. "The town's spring festival is being held today in the square, so perhaps taking a small break to enjoy yourself will bring.. Inspiration." He silently watched as Lucian thoughtfully placed down his tea and lightly ran a hand down and over his rough jaw, eyes drifting toward the open window. A light breeze coyly brushed against the soft olive curtains, causing them to sway gently as the sound of the birds just outside and the faint fragrance of blossoms wafted through. At last, Lucian nodded, his hazel eyes returning to settle on Charles' old frame. "I think you may be right." Approaching the open window, he brushed the thin curtain aside and gazed down onto the street below. "Inspiration... " Lucian muttered softly to himself, his eyes seeking for something-- something he was yet not certain of, but knew would somehow alter everything. Whether it would be for the better, he could only wait and see. For being an artist, Lucian was never the patient type, so knowing this did not bode well with him. Turning around, he briskly made toward the door, motioning for his butler to follow. "Come quickly, Charles. You shall assist me. Prepare my suit. Something casual, preferably; I wish to merely be a speculator today." "Y-yes, sir!" It didn't take long for Lucian to strip of the old layer of wear the past weeks had caused, and step out the front doors appearing fresh. Adorning a simple yet tasteful vest and coat, a pressed shirt and tie accompanying, he looked ever so presentable. Although, the lack of sleep certainly had it's effects, ones that showed subtly on his young face and wouldn't disappear with his quick shower and much needed shave. Running a hand through his hair and back down again to gently smooth down his bangs, he in took a deep breath of crisp air, feeling it almost burn his lungs. Beside him, his butler handed him his cane, a doubtful expression on his old face. "Are you quite sure you'd like to... walk, sir?" Lucian took his silver knobbed cane and grunted. "You speak as if I cannot do even that simple fleet on my own. It is but a mere couple blocks," He motioned vaguely with a hand, "I don't see the harm." Charles frowned lightly. "Yes, but it wouldn't be very becoming of a gentleman such as yourself to arrive on fo--" Lucian barked a laugh, startling his butler. "Half of those there don't even know my name, much less how 'becoming' or not it would be of me to arrive without a carriage and men at my feet." Patting his trusted employee lightly on the shoulder, he allowed a slight grin on his lips. "Don't pay the gossips much heed, Charles." With that, he strode down the steps and down the sidewalk, eyes taking in the welcome greeting of spring. Behind him, Charles lightly shook his head and returned inside, gently closing the door as he did so.