Member
rush99999
Name: Mateo Nathaniel Black
Age: 37
Sex: Male
Sexuality: Heteroflexible
Relationship Status: Single
Occupation: Lawyer
The Body
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 152lbs
Hair: Black
Eyes: Dark Brown
Skin Tone: Pale
Appearance: He is a man of good taste and fashion. He is always dressed well in suits, knows fancy tie knotts and his shoes cost more than your apartment. He keeps his hair well kept and styles it every morning. He has a lithe and somewhat muscular build due to sporadic gym visits and and tendancy to forget to eat. He considers his appearance his brand. How can you expect your lawyer to get you out of a jam if he looks like a crumpled sock at the bottom of a laundry basket?
The Soul
Likes: Coffee, Cigarettes, Scotch, Good Clothing, Reading (especially cases), and Smokey/Leathery scents/
Dislikes: Cigars, Commited Relationships, Having to Eat, Interruptions from his Work, and "Looking a Mess."
Positive Traits: Passionate, warm, gentle, persuasive, detail oriented, capable, great fashion sense and tidy.
Negative Traits: Apathetic, jaded in love, fear of commitment, workaholic, persuasive, the type to throw money at problems, strong willed, and hedonistic.
Perfect Date: "I suppose going out - wine, dinner, dancing. I would pick out the perfect dress for you. Purchase jewelery to match. We could go out to plays or orchestra. Perhaps stay at home and have a simple drink and chat before the fire."
Worst Date: "Inane talking about nothing. Demands and arguments. Cruelty toward the staff of any place. Possesiveness. Guess I am more describing a type of person, huh?"
Skills:
- Great debator
- Iron liver
- Money management
- Great knowledge of law
- Smooth talker
- Drives exceptionally well
Brief History:
- Born to parents that appeared to loathe each other
- Constant arguments that more often than not turned to an elabroate and loud make-up session
- Comes from money and so has never been without
- Most of his school years were spent abroad in a boarding school, which gives him a slight British accent
- Found he was great at debate and from there decided to become a lawyer
- Goes to Yale
- Graduates and begins internships
- Spends a few years working with a prestigous law firm
- Starts his own with a friend, "Black and Bidwell"
- Mother starts demanding grandbabies
The Story
Mateo had taken the time to lovingly place log after log into the fireplace. Each one was positioned so the flames may eat them but to also give air flow. He had the experience from the last ten years of building fires into the same hearth to help him. Beneath the logs were old newspapers and important documents which could only be destroyed by an incinerator to keep things safe. Atop the mantle sat a large box of long matches. Picking them up he crouched once again before the logs, struck the match, and lit the papers aflame.
He watched as the fire consumed paper and sensually licked at the logs before finding purchase there. Closing the grate, so as to not burn down his quite expensive penthouse, he went around to the wall of books. His personal study was a sanctuary of knowledge. It held a large mahogany desk littered with law tomes and case papers. His walls were made of bookcases holding all sorts of the written word from smutty romances to geographical maps. Nothing was beyond his interest.
His fingers skimmed over hardback covers, some of them ancient first prints worth more than the penthouse itself. At last his thin, piano fingers found a tome that appeared far older than it was. Animal Farm. He had read this book so many times that the spine was cracked and some of the pages were beginning to fall away from the glue. Someday he would have to replace it. For now, his beloved childhood book was just perfect the way it was. When he had first read it, he had simply enjoyed the animals being in charge of their own farm. In his adulthood, he began to understand the themes.
He settled into his large, leather, winged armchair near the flames. Beside him was a decanter of scotch which he poured over ice. Mateo lay his book down upon his lap and removed a metal case of cigarettes from his inner jacket pocket. Smoothly he lit one up, sipped the liquor, and opened his novel in the anticipation of an uninterrupted read on a rare Thursday off.
All was going well for about an hour and a half until his door opened and then slammed shut. He jumped slightly, causing the last of his second cigarette’s ash to fall to the floor. He quickly stuffed it out in a nearby ashtray before bookmarking his page.
“Mateo!” a feminine voiced called from the hall. The middle-aged man could not help but groan. With a sigh and in preparation for a headache, he lifted himself from his comfortable chair. He opened his study door and as he made his way down the hall the perfume of her hit him before the sight of the woman did. She was slender and frail looking but with a good build that complimented all her assets. She had always worn her hair in blonde, beachy curls and only the slightest hint of makeup to accentuate immaculately curated features. Her dress was bright red, her coat real fox fur, and her smile as fake as Barbie’s.
The lawyer returned the smile to the best of his abilities while his mother threw her arms about his neck. She kissed both of his cheeks with her obligatory statement of “Kiss, kiss,” before standing back and holding the taller man’s shoulders.
“How did you get in?” he asked kindly. His heart and his head were seriously annoyed.
“I made a copy, but never mind that! Oh, my darling son! You won’t believe the news!” The woman was full of fervor and ecstasy so there was no helping his mandated reply.
“Yes, what is it mother?” She wanted him to ask. She so obviously needed him to ask.
“I will, I will, but do give your dear mother a drink. It is frightfully cold outside.” The woman took off her coat and scarf only to drop them on the floor. Mateo led her to the immediate left, a sitting room designed for meeting clients. It was comfortable and quite bland. Soft blue, white, and brown colors adorned fabrics and walls alike. To the small bar at the side of the room he went and poured his mother her usual vodka and soda.
Once this life reviving drink was in her hands and she had taken a sip, she began her tale. “Well, at the office there was a giveaway. You put in more money and the more you spent the more tickets you would get. Obviously, I couldn’t let Carol or Bridget (‘the alcoholic,’ she muttered beneath her breath) win.” She went on to spout some very nasty things of both women before continuing, “So I put in a grand for this raffle. Oh! Your father will shoot me, but it’s worth it. And what would you know I won the grand prize! And Ooooooh,” she sighed in a far too sexual manner, “The looks on their faces when I walked up to receive it. You know I made sure to wear…” Mateo was beginning to drown her out despite his best efforts to listen. After some time he heard the words, “And would you have it, I won tickets to the TAP! I am, of course, attached most devotedly to your father. But I thought you could use them to find a good woman to keep your house.”
His mother began to dig through her tiny purse. There was no way she hadn’t come upon the ticket by now but she took her time. “Aha!” The blonde pulled the ticket out and offered it to her only son. “You had better use this,” she said in a dark and commanding tone. Even her face showed him that she meant business or he would wind up with the woman in his house, complaining, for a month. “Or I shall be quite disappointed.”
“Yes, of course mother. I wouldn’t dream of anything but your happiness. You worked so hard to get this.” He would reserve the eye rolling and annoyance for after she had left.
“Good boy. You must… no… You WILL call me directly after in the morning to let me know how it went.”
“Of course mother.”
“Now I must be off, or I’ll be late to my hair appointment. Take care of yourself love. Kiss kiss.” With that she was out the door without another word or sentiment. Mateo stared at the ticket and groaned while his eyes moved toward the ceiling. He didn’t need this foolishness right now. He couldn’t even come close to wanting it.
The lawyer walked back to his office, sat in that winged chair, and pulled out his cell phone to call his secretary. The line rang for a few moments before the answer of “Black and Bidwell, how may I help you?” came clear across the line.
“Tell me, Abigail, there must be some urgent matter that needs my attention.”
“Let me look sir.” He could hear the shufflings of papers and the clacks of the computer as she looked through the notes. The long silence while this happened made his heart fall as doubts of relief crept in. “No, nothing sir.”
“Not even anything I could do pro-bono?”
“I’m afraid not sir.” Her tone was sympathetic, and she dared to whisper, “Delilah?”
“Fucking Delilah,” he responded. “Remind me to change my locks tomorrow.”
“Yes of course sir.”
“Enjoy your day.”
The Ether
Color Code: 8FBC8F
Face Claim: Jospeh Gordon Levitt
Theme Song: This is not required, just for funsies.
