3 Jul 2020, 02:18
Sail to the Moon
The tent was not particularly large, and certainly didn't look like anything from the outside. A plain white tent, put up taut and secure. Most people would pass it by without a second thought, it was far too inconspicuous, and no sound at all seemed to come from it no matter the hour.
Flash Holmwood
Claudia Gears
Closed to further tenants
The reason was simple: Flash had intended to tent alone, and his only company was as many books as he could manage to collect in one place. A particularly emotional end of the year had led to him making the executive decision to take some time for himself and do something he enjoyed... reading. It was healthy, to be away from everyone for a while. To process. Or even better, forget it all and lose himself in the multitudinous world between the pages of books.
Perhaps it was only a distraction, or perhaps it was an educated act of tending to his mental health. He didn’t ponder it too long, he only cared that it felt right. He wanted time away from expectations. He didn’t want to be needed, or be responsible for anything.
Naturally, he had sought a kind of atmosphere that would have been very familiar to Burnett. Flash had been shown what mattered to him-- efficient comfort. Utility and connection to the natural world. It was quite a bit easier to cobble together something with his retainer for the tent than it had been to try to buy birthday presents for his friends. Perhaps it was because it was so simple.
Instead of some sort of floor or rug, the tent was open to the grassy ground. Not being at all impressed with its reduced biodiversity, no doubt through years of trampling, he had picked quite a few wildflowers from around the area to decorate and add a bit of chaotic, unplanned color based on the whims of his mood on the hike.
There was furniture, mostly minimalist, light, and durable. Bookcases, couches, tables, all of which were beset with towering piles of books. Some old, some brand new. Some worn nearly to pieces, some wrapped in a plastic sleeve. Fiction, adventure, mystery, magical lore, transfiguration, sci-fi, philosophy, comic books… whatever grabbed the attention of his voracious curiosity. He had asked them to send over his entire library. That library, of course, was every single book he ever saw that even partly interested him. His family was rich after all, he might as well use it to his advantage when it came to his own education. Or, well, entertainment in some instances.
Though the main area was some kind of ergonomic wild book jungle, off to the side were two cozy beds. As far as easily pack portable beds went, they couldn’t be beat for comfort. At least that was what Flash had said was his greatest concern. Two, of course, because it always paid to be prepared. He wasn’t foolish enough to think that there wasn’t a chance he might need to shelter someone, he was the type of person people ran to when things went wrong. Better to just prepare for it.
To another side, there was a place to prepare tea. No kitchen, he paid for people to come bring him food. He might try to learn to cook for himself some day, but certainly not right then. Just a tea cabinet and a modern fire stove meant to just heat up a kettle. Still no electricity. Given that, he also had strategically placed floating candles a safe distance from any fire hazard. It would work fine. In fact, over the course of the first day, he only continued to personalize the space, moving things around to make pathways more clear, sorting the books into recognizable categories, also creating a ‘most excited’ pile to dig into right away. Eventually everything was in its right place.
Naturally, Flash had set up his tent as soon as he was able to. He was awake at 6am as always, even though the curfew had changed. It was just a habit now. By the time he finished getting comfortable, it was about noon, and there was clearly noise of lively activity outside. Flash considered going out and seeing who was nearby, but the prospect of reading was too enticing to delay.
He made himself some tea, something lighter than his usual favorite morning tea, and tried to settle in to start the process. It was… somehow a bit daunting. When he was alone at home, miles away from the nearest living soul, books had been a way to connect with someone. The author, the characters. Losing himself in another world when people needed him in the real world felt… selfish, was it? But… wasn’t that too harsh? Shouldn’t it be fun?
Why did his head insist on ruining everything? He had finally made everything perfect. He made all the right choices that day, was productive and worked constructively to give himself a place where he could feel calm and enjoy himself. How did that possibly make him feel guilty? Something was still wrong, people like Bridget and Opeila were suffering while he was trying to distract himself. Come on… why can’t I let go...
Well, distractedly reaching for his tea kettle, he leaned it incorrectly, spilling boiling hot water on his hand, and setting off a predictable disaster. Books knocked over, tea on books, table on foot, wet books on grass. Drat! I have to pay more attention! Why am I so useless!
Well, there was no need to panic, steps could be taken to make the situation better. For one, he could ignore the pain in his hand. He would do best to run cold water over it, but he just didn’t have the luxury. It wasn’t a bad burn anyway, so as long as he didn’t aggravate it too much it should heal fine.
Then, he needed to spare the books as much damage as he possibly could. It was midday, the sun would be at its highest, so he needed to air them out as soon as possible. Please let there be room... Flash picked up three books to take out and scout for a place to open them up. Outside he felt lucky to see a good deal of space still wide open next to him. Either the spot hadn’t been taken yet, or perhaps never would.
Then again, there was a girl standing near the spot. She might have been eyeing it, though Flash’s commotion of leaving the tent clearly caught her attention instead. She was small, probably near his age, with a distinct paleness normally associated with one that isn’t often outside. Quite the opposite of Flash’s complexion.
”Please pardon me, Miss. I don’t know if you needed this spot, but I’d like to air out a few books of mine.” Flash always spoke his intentions quickly and clearly. He didn’t like being misunderstood. ”Perhaps you might even help me… I spilled an entire kettle, so there are a lot… of books…”
Though he initially spoke with the immaculate confidence of an erudite heir, the automaticness of his politeness suffered under the exhaustion of the task at hand. He hoped the books would be alright.
Outfit:
ReducioInteracting with: @Claudia Gears
Mentioning: @Sylvain Indarys @Jack Burnett @Bridget Collins @Opeila SeilunBackdated: July 1st, 2020
Last edited by Flash Holmwood on 10 Jul 2020, 17:56, edited 1 time in total.
For we dreamed a lot//And we schemed a lot//And we tried to sing of love before the stage fell apart
Sta: 9 ★Eva: 5 ★Str: 7 ★Wis: 15 ★AP: 3 ★Acc: 15
7 Jul 2020, 17:35
Sail to the Moon
-------☆-------@Flash HolmwoodClaudia had gone to summer camp with the full expectation that she’s would be alone. It wasn’t unusual for the quiet Ravenclaw, she had lived her whole life being isolated and distant from others. When she was younger, her parents kept relentlessly asking why exactly she had no friends. Little Claudia had simply said back, “Friends are liabilities, not necessities. No one needs love, so no one needs friends.” and from then on, not said a single word back about that topic. Because why would she need friends? Humans only need food and water. Otherwise they can’t live. Are friends food? Only if you’re cannibalistic. Are friends water? Well, 70% of their bodies are, but you can’t drink a person. So, therefore, Claudia didn’t need friends.
Or company.
Or love.
She didn’t need any of it, so she didn’t want any of it. It was as simple as that. So that was why Claudia expected that she would find an empty tent and sit there alone for the whole duration of the summer camp. But, as life is an odd thing, Claudia didn’t get what she expected. Instead, Claudia got what she didn’t need: company. So that was why, instead of walking past the strange boy drying out his books, life drew Claudia to help. And drew Claudia to join.
Claudia had been examining the empty tents, trying to see which one could hold the most books, when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. It was an athletic looking brunette boy with blue eyes and bright clothes that hurt Claudia’s eyes. He was frantically carrying a small stack of books that had their spines so cracked and their covers so well worn that they were clearly read often. Claudia felt a small hint of appreciation for this fellow book reader and stopped to watch him for a bit.
“Please pardon me, Miss. I don’t know if you needed this spot, but I’d like to air out a few books of mine.” the boy said clearly, “Perhaps you might even help me... I spilled an entire kettle, so there are a lot... of books...”
Claudia’s one eye widened at the mention of a a tea kettle and lot of books. By the wording, she was sure that the boy had accidentally knocked over a whole tea kettle and splashed a lot of books with tea. She nodded frantically and move down out of the way - this was truly an emergency. “I-I’ll... uh, help... you.” she said, stammering for words in her shaken up state. Claudia rushed in to the tent and was surprised to see the staggering amount of books there were. Her feet locked in one spot as she admired the boy’s collection, making a mental note to ask if she could borrow some once she was settled. If she could even get the words out of her mouth, that was. After hesitating for a bit, wondering where the cause of the damage was, Claudia’s gaze snagged on some toppled over books and headed in that direction.
Claudia clumsily stacked up some thick books about dragons and such and raced outside to the point where she had last seen the brightly-dressed boy. She flipped through each of the book’s pages, trying to find the culprit of the damage, and set them each text up to the sun. She wondered how many books were damaged and if the pair would even be able to get them all frying in time before the tea seeped in to the point of no return. Claudia’s logical brain told her no way, but Claudia herself hoped that by some miracle all the books would be all right.
“So, uh...” she huffed on her way past the boy, “Y-your book collection is very, erm, nice.” Claudia’s eye skimmed over some of the book titles that she was holding, finding both classics and legends alike. The pale girl was slightly hoping that he would answer, just to keep her mind off the tragedy of the damaged books, but her statement was more of... well... a statement. Not really one that left the door to a conversation open.-------☆-------
10 Jul 2020, 18:48
Sail to the Moon
Flash couldn’t have been more grateful for the way the stranger snapped into action. He would have liked to ponder the reasons for why she accepted so quickly, nearly stumbling over her words in the rush to hop into the tent and start grabbing the poor sodden tomes. Instead, he had business to get to, and thanks to the kindness of the young lady he would be able to get through it twice as quickly.
If the pages were left to soak for too long, especially the old ones, the pages could start to stick together and even just fall apart. The image itself was horrifying enough, to think of being immersed in a story completely, only to see a page ripped or illegible. He didn’t want to say so in the event that it might alarm the girl, but some of the books he owned were irreplaceable, as far as he knew. He wondered if a ‘reparo’ charm would be able to repair damage like that, but it certainly didn’t un-soak things.
After a pass or two, most of the stained literature was open and being gently caressed by the healing rays of the sun. The tension in Flash’s shoulders laxed, and he had a more calm expression as he fingered through the pages to take stock of the more individual cases of wear and tear, rather than the immediate danger. It was then that his savior spoke again, still a bit stilted, but elucidating the likely reason for her urgency. She liked his collection, it seemed, though her specific words were not quite so clear. She simply said that it was ‘nice’, which could just as well be taken as polite conversation rather than a direct complement. It made Flash curious to know the truth.
”You think so? It’s quite an eclectic one, so I wouldn’t imagine it would appeal to everyone.” Flash looked up at her from where he was squatting down to the books on the ground, tending to them diligently. ”I promise I’m not usually so careless around them… are you the type to always keep your books in perfect condition, or do you let them fall apart with your love?”
Flash didn’t have any need for prattling on about useless pleasantries. He didn’t just read books, he was an avid reader of people too. Though she gave him very little to work with as far as understanding who she was or where she came from, the answer to his question would give him a perfectly suitable platform to branch out from. That, and her reaction to his avowal of the event itself would also paint a picture. Bit by bit he would learn everything he needed to know through the art of talking. He assumed already through her speech pattern that she would prefer questions about herself to be broached carefully, rather than directly.
Standing up again to check to see if all the wet books were accounted for, his head shook, eyes blinking as if in utter disbelief. In his rush, he had tripped over the most important part.
”Oh, forgive me, I failed to ask for your name.” Flash would face her directly, but only offer his hand if it seemed as though she also had the inclination for a handshake. He had pegged her for a type-- an introvert, perhaps, someone who didn't talk often. Someone who wouldn’t appreciate even respectful physical contact. ”My name is Flash Holmwood.”
@Claudia Gears
If the pages were left to soak for too long, especially the old ones, the pages could start to stick together and even just fall apart. The image itself was horrifying enough, to think of being immersed in a story completely, only to see a page ripped or illegible. He didn’t want to say so in the event that it might alarm the girl, but some of the books he owned were irreplaceable, as far as he knew. He wondered if a ‘reparo’ charm would be able to repair damage like that, but it certainly didn’t un-soak things.
After a pass or two, most of the stained literature was open and being gently caressed by the healing rays of the sun. The tension in Flash’s shoulders laxed, and he had a more calm expression as he fingered through the pages to take stock of the more individual cases of wear and tear, rather than the immediate danger. It was then that his savior spoke again, still a bit stilted, but elucidating the likely reason for her urgency. She liked his collection, it seemed, though her specific words were not quite so clear. She simply said that it was ‘nice’, which could just as well be taken as polite conversation rather than a direct complement. It made Flash curious to know the truth.
”You think so? It’s quite an eclectic one, so I wouldn’t imagine it would appeal to everyone.” Flash looked up at her from where he was squatting down to the books on the ground, tending to them diligently. ”I promise I’m not usually so careless around them… are you the type to always keep your books in perfect condition, or do you let them fall apart with your love?”
Flash didn’t have any need for prattling on about useless pleasantries. He didn’t just read books, he was an avid reader of people too. Though she gave him very little to work with as far as understanding who she was or where she came from, the answer to his question would give him a perfectly suitable platform to branch out from. That, and her reaction to his avowal of the event itself would also paint a picture. Bit by bit he would learn everything he needed to know through the art of talking. He assumed already through her speech pattern that she would prefer questions about herself to be broached carefully, rather than directly.
Standing up again to check to see if all the wet books were accounted for, his head shook, eyes blinking as if in utter disbelief. In his rush, he had tripped over the most important part.
”Oh, forgive me, I failed to ask for your name.” Flash would face her directly, but only offer his hand if it seemed as though she also had the inclination for a handshake. He had pegged her for a type-- an introvert, perhaps, someone who didn't talk often. Someone who wouldn’t appreciate even respectful physical contact. ”My name is Flash Holmwood.”
@Claudia Gears
For we dreamed a lot//And we schemed a lot//And we tried to sing of love before the stage fell apart
Sta: 9 ★Eva: 5 ★Str: 7 ★Wis: 15 ★AP: 3 ★Acc: 15
11 Jul 2020, 01:12
Sail to the Moon
-------☆-------@Flash HolmwoodClaudia had no idea why she had joined in to help the boy. Maybe she had simply been bored, looking for something to do. Probably she just couldn’t bear to see the books in such a demolished state. But she had joined, and that was an action she couldn’t take back no matter how much she tried. But did Claudia regret that she had joined? That was a truly mysterious question indeed. What really were her intentions?
As Claudia stared at the high bookshelves, she leaned more to the side of no regret. Seeing all the books and voluminous novels, she wondered if she had found someone more enthusiastic with reading than her. The girl didn’t think that she was the best reader in the world, but she did think that she was hard to beat. If this boy could beat her in both owning books and books read... Claudia didn’t want to admit it, but she felt a tiny bit gravitated toward the other reader. Well, not in a “I want to be friends” way, but more of... respect. A sort of respect for another reader. Another person who could dive into fictional worlds and block out the one they actually live in.
Then again, she was also balancing out with the side of “regret” as well. Confrontations and words had never been Claudia’s strong suit - even the thought of having to start a conversation could give her chills. Joining the boy felt a little like confrontation in it’s own way. Claudia wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say anything, or what. What would a seemingly normal person say in a conversation like this one? “Hello, good day. Hope your books aren’t ruined?” No, that wouldn’t be right. Claudia scrunched up her face slightly in a way that could seem like she wasn’t thinking... or something.
“So, uh... Y-your book collection is very, erm, nice.” Claudia decided, playing it vague. Her words hadn’t opened the door to a conversation very wide, more like just a crack. Or maybe none at all.
“You think so? It’s quite an eclectic one, so I wouldn’t imagine it would appeal to everyone.” Claudia raised her eyebrows at the boy’s ability to continue, and felt the sudden urge to awkwardly clap as if he had just done something extraordinary. Which, to Claudia, he really had. To find an opening, to find the slightest of cracks, in the door was something Claudia could never have done - or, rather, ever will. It was really a talent. Claudia looked over to where the boy was squatting, looking in his General direction but not in his eyes. “I promise I’m not usually so careless around them... are you the type to always keep your books in perfect condition, or do you let them fall apart with your love?” he said, for the first part as if he had read her mind.
Claudia resumed her gaze to the books, searching for any that looked wet or damaged. “I wouldn’t say l...love is the right word...” she trailed off, “I guess I keep them in, uh, crisp condition, despite them b-being well used?”
Her fingers trailed over a pile of books, nimbly flipping them open and checking them for anything out of the ordinary. The boy’s words had seemed carefully chosen, as if he had known that her one - well, sort of - weakness was books. She had already grown semi-comfortable in the tent, the large quantity of books tricking her mind. It felt to her as if she was in a small library, picking out some new books to read.
As for her response, Claudia had told the truth. She did read and re-read the books, immersing herself in the worlds like she was a character in it herself. But she didn’t read out of love - not really. Claudia read to escape. Books were more than a possession, entertainment. They were her only friends, they spoke to her. In dreams and stories they spoke. If she closed her eye, Claudia could sense the whispers of the pages, them fluttering as they turned. The boy’s question was a pleasant one, a “nice” one, she supposed. One for petty conversation. But that didn’t mean that her response couldn’t hold a deeper meaning, too. If only to her. But, to her, all words contained a deeper meaning. Motivations, experiences, all of it layers on top of each other to form what a character might say.
But - strangely enough - when Claudia thought about deeper meanings, she often applied them only in books.
She didn’t expect them in real life.
“Oh, forgive me, I failed to ask for your name. My name is Flash Holmwood.” Claudia’s mind jerked out of her thoughts, lost in the abyss of words.
“Flash, y-you say? Why, that’s a wonderful name! I’ve never met a character - er, person - named Flash before. Except, of course, The Flash. Say... you don’t have any... erm, super speed power or anything, do you?” Claudia debated for a minute whether there was a spell for that in existence, and then remembered that she hadn’t told him her name. Much more timidly, Claudia said, ”C-Claudia. My name’s... Claudia Gears, uh, yeah. No powers, n-no nothing... Just your boring, average, awkward, bitter, helpless, you-shouldn’t-put-your-bets-on-her Claudia Gears... oops.” The introduction was because she was probably the worst person to put you’re trust in, and the “oops” was because she had abruptly dropped a book.
Curse these clumsy hands. Could they just stop shaking for once in a conversation? Claudia asked herself. She gently picked up the book and smoothed the creases in the paper, checking it for any dents or scratches she had caused. Claudia peaked up through her hair and wondered if the ball of brightness and blinding light was judging her.
Which he probably was.
Because didn’t everyone judge each other? Claudia sure did. All the time.-------☆-------
11 Jul 2020, 16:39
Sail to the Moon
Flash listened and watched. Claudia’s eye was attending the books more often than it was observing him, though her answer had been ‘wouldn’t say love’. Did she have something against that word, or was it entirely unsuited for her relationship with books? Something to be investigated, though he would have to do it in a way that didn’t seem like he was prying. As far as actual book care, she seemed to fall in about the same camp haha as Flash. He knew things didn’t last forever, and keeping them too precious was just letting them die slower, unappreciated. It was better to… wait, he should be saying this out loud.
”I agree, I think it’s better to accept a bit of wear if it means the book gets to be enjoyed.” Flash wasn’t going to admit the part about how when he was a little kid, he would take his books out into the forest and let them get completely destroyed by the forces of nature. Well, little kids don’t have the concept that once something is destroyed, it never comes back. He learned eventually. ”That makes me feel better about letting you borrow them, I’m sure you’ll treat them well, even if it’s not ‘love’.”
Flash smiled broadly, though the girl rarely looked directly at him. He didn’t know if it would come off strange to offer her the books as though she had already asked. It was clear through her heightened interest that there was at least one that she was hoping to crack open to uncover its story. None of his books were too precious, knowledge was meant to be shared abundantly. In fact, he was excited that someone had shown interest in his collection at all. It was one of his choosing, so partially, liking his collection was nearly the same as liking him. It at least meant a good deal of their interests aligned. He only needed to simmer down, make sure he didn’t look too thrilled, lest he come off as desperate for attention.
At the mention of his name, she did the one thing people were always too polite to do. It was a marvel, really, that so few people pointed out the strangeness of his name. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself like he was someone important, or how he was taller and more buff than most kids his age, but everyone seemed to just let the fact that he was named Flash go without any comment. Sometimes they brought it up much later, asking what his ‘real’ name was. Especially when they heard that he came from a wealthy family. Though she wasn’t making fun of it, she said it was ‘wonderful’. Flash's face reddened, but he needed only turn his back to hide it. He looked around briefly to pick up the comic book, knowing where it was already.
Holding the comic curled in his hand, she gave her own name, though it was followed by a list of self-deprecating descriptors, and a dropped book. She quickly retrieved it from the ground, Flash having turned back around and re-approached her as she checked to make sure the book was alright. Had he done something to make her nervous, or was this normal? He had no data to draw from, they had barely exchanged any words at all. He often found that to be one of the harder parts of engaging with people, especially new people. He was never sure what balance to strike when unloading his genuine interest, which could be taken as too forward or too familiar. Early on in the school year, his quick reading of others often scared them, so he learned to act more aloof.
”Boring… bitter… helpless. I could take your word for that, but I think I’d rather make such judgments on my own.” Flash only reiterated a few, they were terribly negative words, so repeating them was a bit painful. Words he used to describe himself as well.
Instead of dwelling on his inevitable judgement of her, something he would rather show then discuss, Flash held up the comic for her to see the bright colorful art on the cover with a big excited smile he couldn’t contain. This was something he never got to share. ”Here you go. You were almost right.”
”Flash Gordon was a scientist and an athlete, no super powers.” Flash’s eyes stayed on the cover, a deep nostalgia and sentiment attached to the character, even though as a comic narrative it didn’t have even a fraction of the depth of a novel. To him, the character was very special. ”Unless you count the ability to make friends a super power. Trapped on a distant planet, he brought people together to topple the evil regime that ruled there. Well… I won’t harp on it. You probably didn’t want to hear me prattle on about comic books.”
Flash did feel a bit bashful sharing something so personal, but it wasn’t the first time. After all, she at least seemed somewhat interested in the answer, so the part of him that wanted to hide or kick himself was abated. It also helped that he had spent much of his first year learning to fight off the fear of talking about himself. It had been a bloody battle, but he had changed from where he was at the start of the year-- paranoid, suspicious, vacant. It was still a process, he still didn’t quite understand how to reconcile between the shell of his body and the theatergoer in his mind. At least he was still young.
Feeling the dryness in his mouth from being out in the sun, he remembered that his refreshment had also been lost in the fray. He put the comic book down on top of another nearby stack and went to collect the kettle off the floor.
”I hope you might stay a while, would you like some tea?” Flash dusted a few blades of grass off the stainless steel. ”I have a lot to choose from, or I could also pick one I think you’d like.”
@Claudia Gears
For we dreamed a lot//And we schemed a lot//And we tried to sing of love before the stage fell apart
Sta: 9 ★Eva: 5 ★Str: 7 ★Wis: 15 ★AP: 3 ★Acc: 15