in the days of old [charles]

[mathis andre moreau]

mattie stood in the darkroom, his usually neat clothes were a little messed up from the day of work. he had been trying to get things done for his classes but at the end of the day, he found he had finish ahead of schedule leaving himself with a bit of extra time before dinner.

having a few pictures undeveloped from last year, he decided to come to the darkroom and have them developed and kept neatly in an organized album. mattie likes his organization and order. everything just had a place in his little world and although some might not pick up on the patterns and see a mess, mattie always knew exactly what he was doing and just where everything was.

the long sleeves of his loose white buttoned shirt were folded up to his elbows and left half untucked. mattie looked focused as he stared down at the picture he was developing. the suspenders he chose to wear today gave him an old vintage look. it seemed to fit more with this old art of developing film. digital might be new and shiny but mattie preferred a good old black and white photo. It seemed to have something that a digital photo lacked. it had a life of its own, a soul even, at least to him.

he had done the class on black and white photography last year and although it wasn't a class that he was doing this year, he still wanted to get these done. he liked liked black and white a little more than color, but then he preferred film noir and classic films as well. he liked the way it looked and how it gave it a completely different feel. under the safelight, there was a dull red glow covering him so that he could see what he was doing. blue eyes were changed in the red glow but they still looked bright and focused as he pulled his picture up and hung it to dry.

[charles rémi matthieu]

with the sleeves of his white button down rolled up to his elbows, charlie very finely set himself to the task of framing his photos. the thin sheet of glass felt dangerous but steady in his fingertips as he set hit against the wooden frame.
he was always a little nervous about the placement task. setting his art up for display was a whole new set of things he had to deal without outside of getting the art ready for the frame in the first place. he didn’t think of photography as a particularly hard line of work or study, if he did he wouldn’t have chosen it as a future career, but it was the little things like this that were a little tricky.

after placing the flimsy piece of sharp material, charlie inspected his fingertips for any cuts, careful just in case he got any blood on himself. he was fine, which was saying a lot considering how many times he’s made a complete and utter mess of himself and his work station in the photography lab just with his own blood alone.
he wasn’t really clumsy; he just lost focus a lot from lack of sleep. he left his sleeves rolled and tucked his black tie back into his ash grey waistcoat as he looked the six sets of photos over.

pulling himself away fro his station for a moment, charlie reached for the cup of tea he had fetched himself before he had begun his process. taking note of the cold temperature of the foam cup it was sitting in, charlie suspected the tea had long since died a horrible luke-warm death. he supposed he could live without, the extra boost of sugar would have woken him up a little, but it wouldn’t be the first time he would have to work off his own natural resources.

only two more to frame, and then he could sleep.

walking over to the blackroom, charlie knocked on the door to signify that he was coming in. it was more polite to give any other occupants a little bit of warning then just spook them on his quiet entrance into the dimly lit space. the school had enough funding to crate a well enough enclosed room, but still, no need to shock someone into ruining a photo.

walking into the confined, dark space, charlie realised there was only one other person occupying the room.
“sorry, i’ll be gone in a bit,” he murmured quietly, hoping not to intrude any more than necessary “i just— crap.”
he picked up his first photo slowly, noting how the saturation had practically blinded the person in the photo out of view, completely ruining the picture.

“that… that sucks, it’s completely ruined.”

[mathis andre moreau]

it seemed like the perfect minor for mattie. he loved cinematography and the things he learned in the photography classes he had taken were invaluable. the focus on framing a scene, the angles, the lightening, the focus or lack of it. it could say so much and yet go unnoticed by those who weren't trained to see it. it was subtle yet it spoke volumes and mattie was fascinated by that aspect of the course.

mattie hung up the last picture and was just about ready to go. picking up his newsboy cap and slipping it on, mattie looked like he had walked right out of an old black and white film.. well, except for the red glow in the room. the tailored black pants with sensible but worn black shoes were the perfect match for the look he had unintentionally created. he could almost be pictured standing on a street corner, yelling the headlines in order to sell a few papers. that is, if he were a couple years younger. [click]

standing back and to the corner, mattie examined the pictures as they became clearer. they were coming out quite well. hearing the knock, he turned to the door for a moment, arms crossed as they had been when he was looking at his pictures. the boy spoke and mattie turned back to his work. he would have responded to it but the boy spoke again.

ah, a ruined picture. he knew what that was like. mattie had made a mistake or two.. or perhaps several if he were to be totally honest, in his time and it was never good. all that work and that anticipation only to have it come out not looking the way you had expected. he could definitely relate to that.

with his curiosity peeked, mattie moved closer to the boy, or at least close enough to see the picture. he cringed at the sight, it was most definitely ruined. "ce sont des choses qui arrivent," he said with a shrug. [[translation: these things happen]]

"sorry about your picture," he said, looking over at the boy with a look of mild sympathy that only seemed to add to the 'newsboy in an old film' look that he had. he knew that most people at the school didn't speak french but it was his language and although mattie spoke perfect English (or about as perfect as one could get), he still felt the need to throw in some french most of the time. he just couldn't help himself, it was like a habit, almost as though he were trying to keep it alive since he was so far from home.

[charles rémi matthieu]

nothing the area around him suddenly become a little tighter with closure, charlie spared a brief look up at the other darkroom occupant. turning the picture away from the other male self consciously, he sighed. so the other man spoke french, that was nice to know. charlie’s own mother was french and had tried to get him to speak the language i his own garbled tongue. his accent was purely english, but he would work his tongue around the french very well. he didn’t really think himself very good at it, but he could speak a little. he had to, after his mother began to refuse to answer him when he spoke in english.

“il suce encore.” he murmured, typically saying that it still sucked, “but thank you, i’m sure i can figure out something else and get another photo.”

the overwhelming urge to crumple the printed card in the palms of his hands had charlie placing the ruined photo on the bench. he supposed he might start looking maudlin if he didn’t stop staring at the thing like it was a deceased love child. turning to the other male, charlie figured it was about time to introduce himself.

holding his hand out politely, he looked up at the taller male and nodded his head in slight greeting “my name’s charlie by the way,” he stated gently, his eyes taking in the other mans appearance. he was used to feeling smaller compared to most males, and this stranger was no exception. he looked up at the soft eyes above him, the red tint to the lighting making them look dark and deep. charlie suspected they were either blue or green in natural light.
the outfit, over all, was rather flattering on the other male.

“you look like… something out of the newsies…” he said, smiling a little wider “i always liked that film.”

[mathis andre moreau]

"that's life mon ami," mattie said, taking a very laid back approach to it which was easy considering this wasn't his work. if he were in this position he would no doubt be stressed out and work constantly to fix it. it was interesting to note that the boy spoke his language. it was a little off but he did better than most.

at least the boy seemed to take it pretty well, saying he would simply take another photo. "i'm sure next time will better," he told him with a smile, just aiming to sound encouraging. why bring a person down, there was absolutely no point and no need for it.

though mattie's positive mood was only due to the fact that he was keeping up with all his work. he had a study plan and everything was running smoothly. it was like clockwork and that always put him in a good mood.

moving forward, he shook the boy's hand. "mattie," he said simply, the same bright smile on his lips. it was a good day for him, even if the same couldn't be said for charlie.

mattie grinned at the statement. "i liked it too," he told him. it was a good film, that old 1899 world looked amazing. everything from the locations to the clothes to the acting was brilliantly done. mattie watched it for the details though. it was something to get used to, watching a film and seeing the strings that moved the marionettes. It wasn't easy to simply enjoy it when you were busy wondering what the puppeteer was thinking.

"It was suspenders or a vest, I thought I would try this today but tomorrow, who knows?" he explained still smiling. Not everyone would have made that comparison so mattie was already intrigued by this boy. maybe he liked those sorts of films. that would certain give them something to talk about at least.