gwendolyn of ragnanival (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lifleifthrasir) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
recolle2017-12-13 11:48 pm
lifleifthrasir) wrote in recolle2017-12-13 11:48 pm
closed || you know that saying about good intentions
WHO: Gwen Nielsen and Peter Hoboken
WHERE: Hollingberry Field
WHEN: Mid-December
WHAT: An astonishing display of strength.
WARNINGS: None foreseen!
[Most of Gwen's free time is during the morning, when shows aren't scheduled. Today, she managed to get the the early afternoon off as well, and so here she is in the park, doing a bit of drawing under the mild warmth of the winter sun. It's nothing much-- just a series of figures in various poses, jotting down her ideas for choreography down on paper so she might try to replicate it physically later.
She is regretting pulling out her papers and putting them into her folder, though, instead of keeping them all in the sketchbook. Twice now she's had to run after her sketches after the wind has blown them away. And now, it's a third time, and her box of pencils and pens with it. Gwen squeezes her eyes against the wind, making a small sound of dismay.]
Not again...
WHERE: Hollingberry Field
WHEN: Mid-December
WHAT: An astonishing display of strength.
WARNINGS: None foreseen!
[Most of Gwen's free time is during the morning, when shows aren't scheduled. Today, she managed to get the the early afternoon off as well, and so here she is in the park, doing a bit of drawing under the mild warmth of the winter sun. It's nothing much-- just a series of figures in various poses, jotting down her ideas for choreography down on paper so she might try to replicate it physically later.
She is regretting pulling out her papers and putting them into her folder, though, instead of keeping them all in the sketchbook. Twice now she's had to run after her sketches after the wind has blown them away. And now, it's a third time, and her box of pencils and pens with it. Gwen squeezes her eyes against the wind, making a small sound of dismay.]
Not again...
no subject
He runs directly against an object that collides against him. It sticks to his face, the sides flapping either way as wind continues blowing. Peter pulls it off - when his eyes are finally freed he sees that it's a drawing - and quickly tracks its nearby owner. Peter stops his jog completely. This situation immediately strikes his empathy. How much trouble did he go through just to have all his art supplies in one place, all because of nature?
Peter walks up to the woman, holding out the one sheet he saved while looking off, scanning for the other lost items. ]
Don't worry, I'll grab the rest for you.
no subject
Thank you, sir.
[She starts busying herself with cleaning up the mess still left on the bench.]
no subject
[That's all he says before he's off. There's another page lying in the grass, a second one that got caught under a trash can, and finally the box of pencils all the way back, farther from Gwen than from where he started.
The lid is still closed, and Peter leaves it that way when he picks it up. When Peter returns to Gwen, and he leans over to lay out the items across the bench again, his eyes are closed, in a subdued wince. Hopefully, everything in there is just fine after all the rolling and tumbling.]
This is everything I could find. But...you should check what's in the pencil case.
no subject
Everything seems to be in order.
[And it does! They aren't arranged the same way she would organize them, but that's perfectly fine, he couldn't be expected to know her favorite pencils. Gwen picks one of them to start reorganizing it--
--only to discover that she's picking up half of one of her favorite pencils. The pencils are snapped in half, but arranged in such a way that they look fine when both halves are together.
Gwen can only stare in shock.]
no subject
He slightly leans over, and starts to pick up the other half as if pitying it.]
The fall must have been too much.
[The feeling of the barrel of the pencil is the same at least, even if it doesn't have its end. It causes memories to resurface - ones that Peter is forced to think about it - his hands, the same feeling against them despite that they're the size of boulders, the dreadful pressure that comes right before a snap.
Peter takes a moment staring at nothing to remember what world he's in.]
no subject
[It's disappointing, but it's not like they're unusable broken in half. She'll just have to get one of those pencil caps to extend it a bit...
She turns to thank her companion, but falls silent upon seeing his face.]
...is something the matter?
no subject
He goes back to just trying to regain his bearings, and for the lack of other things to concentrate on he squeezes his pencil half... which is now two quarters, both falling back into the case.]
I'm sorry -
no subject
You needn't apologize.
[A pause.]
If it would help your mood, you are welcome to snap the other ones.
[She'll just buy another set.]
no subject
[Peter recoils from Gwen, the suggestion being abhorrent to him. Between that and his distress he physically leans backwards, and, in the process of a simple natural reflex to balance himself, shoves an arm through the bench behind him. The wooden planks splinter with no damage managed on his arm.]