Tranquility in Obsessions PV: San Closed

Today was a very rare day for the young Slytherin, who was usually found practicing until fully exhausted within the duelling room when other teams were not using it for full team practice. Today, however, the girl decided to head out and take some photographs. While she had done so during the Outdoors Club, it really was not the same as allowing the camera to have a mind of its own. In settings, you had focuses of people, but in nature, you had whatever it decided to give you. Sometimes you were lucky, finding something extraordinary, and other times you were just blessed to take in her beautiful landscapes.

Once Santario decided on her plans for the day, or at least part of them, she tucked her black jeans into her grey converse and pulled on her leather and knit jacket over her grey v-neck. An outfit that most people were accustomed to seeing her in around school, minus the jacket unless she was outside. Knowing that it could be breezy or even downright windy, she set her hair into a puffed-out fishtail braid but still allowed some strands free on either side of her face. After checking her pockets for a set of fingerless gloves, she scooped up her camera bag and headed out of the castle.

It truly was a beautiful day despite the fact that the lawn was soggy at the usual end of winter beginning of spring fashion, and her grey shoes were bound to have a thick layer of mud and muck on them by the time she was done, but that did not matter they could be cleaned, and a little mud never killed anyone. Santario adjusted the bag’s strap on her shoulder, hiking it up a little more for comfort, before shoving her hands into her pockets and looking out, wondering where she should go today.

The lake was always a promising suspect, but truth be told, she had better shots of its flora and fauna from the windows inside the Slytherin common room. The area around the pitch was not a bad idea either, but then she might run into people practicing, which was also something that she had intended to avoid that day. She was not avoiding people in general, but there would be requests for moving photographs of this flying trick or that flying trick. She had photographed enough quidditch games to have seen them all already.

Santario continued to ponder where she might go as she walked along before she spotted a large oak in the distance, too far off yet to truly see the accompanying soul that sat beneath it. She had not been in a while; in fact, she had not been there since the beginning of first year. She had been taking photographs of the forest when she heard a scream from the outskirts of it. Turns out Gris had tripped and fallen. It seemed like a lifetime ago since that had happened. So, that settled it, the large tree it was. Perhaps she should have just followed her feet in the first place as often enough times it led to the most exciting places.

She would pause for a moment to pull out her camera, wrapping its red strap around her right forearm and holding it securely in the same hand before continuing. As she got closer, she spotted a figure hunched down into the trunk of the mighty oak, and they seemed very concentrated on whatever it was that they were doing. She stopped walking and considered finding somewhere else to be. Clearly, this person was out here because they wanted to be alone to work on whatever craft they were handling, much like Santario, who had been looking just to take some photographs. On the other hand, however, Santario was also making an effort to be somewhat more social. She was naturally quiet and observant with apparently a resting face that made her seem somewhat unapproachable. This was the cause that left most people leaving her alone and never interacting with her. Perhaps other people just did not like her, which was also possible, but she was undoubtedly unaware of it if that were the case.

Well, there was only one way to find out if this person would mind her presence, and that was to go and find out. So her feet moved her forward once more, and while she was close enough to be seen, she would not be able to be heard without yelling. So she raised her left hand up in a greeting and a form to get their attention, not that she thought he saw her while being so focused. She was now close enough to see more closely who exactly was under the tree. It was a face that she vaguely recognized but not one that she thought she knew. He seemed around her age, but that could have easily given him a year up or down as well.

Closer now, she would stop a few feet away from the boy, her camera still in hand but pointing at the ground. Her French accented silvery voice inquiring, “Do you mind if I climb up the tree to take some photos? The camera makes a soft clicking noise, but other than that, we shouldn’t be too much of a bother.” She would stand before him patiently awaiting an answer.

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With each shave of the piece of Irish Oakwood he held, he narrowed down the cylindrical base that was the framework to his project. Slowly, he caressed the sharpened curved blade along the length of the shaft, trying a new design to where this specific craft was to be a curved wand. This was something he had not undertaken just yet and although he was absolutely confident in his ability to produce a straight and narrow wand, this was a much more intense piece of craftsmanship. Training with such different designs was necessary for him to gain experience in woodworking, he needed to challenge himself.

The problem at the moment for Zykeal was that he was forcing the flow of his blade to the point where his concentration started to slip. It happened in an instant, the sharpness of the blade and the mishandling of his potential power thrust caused his blade to slice half-way through the piece of wood as he attempted to shape the curve. Instantly he stopped, those golden eyes staring down at what he had just done, taking it in for a moment before a long and drawn-out sigh exhaled from the breath he had not taken.

Slowly, he'd extract the blade from the piece of wood that was his failed project and he'd settle it down next to him. The craft itself, he held onto for a moment longer as he examined it to see if it was close to repairable; it wasn't. There was no salvaging his impatience and lack of experience in his current undertaking, he wasted his precious wood. This would not be taken as a failure, so to speak, but for him, he took it as such. The boy was always hard on himself when it came to his such things, he hated being wasteful and it took a toll on his mentality when he didn't succeed in his personal challenges.

As he placed the ruined piece of wood back into his satchel, he slowly looked through his bag to find another suitable piece of wood. Zykeal did not give up. That was probably one of his best characteristics one might label him as, persistent. When the appropriate piece was found, the boy would retrieve it and start inspecting it further, planning out within that mind of his the appropriate steps to succeeding further with his next attempt. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, he once more picked up the curved carving blade at his side and began with soft, fluid strokes along the thick cylindrical piece of wood he now had.

The passage of time flows quickly when one is enjoying their craft, it was a trick of the mind he had once thought after having the time fly by a previous day. From morning to evening, he hadn't even felt the hunger that grew within him as he had honed his skills with the carving blade. Much like that day, it seemed to flow with such ease, as soon as he set his focus upon something he immensely enjoyed, time wanted to take away the pleasure he felt. This would just be after-thoughts though, as his hobby took every moment of his concentration; for this reason, he'd not expect to be intruded upon by any of his peers.

Zykeal would not hear the approaching sloshing soft steps of the girl coming closer, nor would he notice when his peripheral had caught an intrusive figure into his sight. It wasn't until the tone of the girls' accent came across his ears that his other senses caught up to what was happening. It took every fiber of his being to stop the blade as he was about to attempt another stroke that could have been another mistake in waiting. Zykeal kept his eyes down as he took a soft exhale of breath, lids closing slowly over the golden hues for a quick moment before opening once more. After she had finished speaking, as he had not recognized the voice, he'd slowly canted his head upwards so that he might be able to look upon the one who visited him.

It took a moment for him to register the girl's appearance, she didn't necessarily distinguish herself in a house with her attire and this confused him slightly as most of his peers were so enamored with their house's colors. With her question still lingering, he still gazed upon her and tried to figure out where he had noticed her before. This was when he saw the camera pointing towards the ground and fully registered her inquiry to him. A smile lifted upon his features as he looked up towards the standing girl, the camera girl, whom he never heard speak and was pleasantly surprised not to hear a familiar accent. One thing that most intrigued him though was that she talked about her camera as he did his wand, as an individual... 'we'.

Probably a rough 45 seconds had passed since she had asked her question towards him, it wasn't as if he was incapable of responding, but, he had so often this year avoided social contact that he almost forgot how to speak politely, "Normally, I think... I'm not a pro by any means though," he couldn't help but offer a little smirk in place of his smile, "Conversations are normally started with a 'Hello, my name is...' sort of thing," he offered, not aware if his own words were to be perceived in a hostile or friendly-banter sort of way. To try and ease his own mind, he added, "but, what do I know anymore," he offered a slight rise and fall of his shoulders as he looked from his own hobby and then to hers.

After a moment of hesitation and quick mental deliberation, he nodded once more, almost to himself as he spoke up towards the girl again, "I don't think I mind, as long as you don't fall on me'," and he nodded his head down towards the sharp blade he owned, "a broken bone could be the best outcome," he noted. Knowing the tree as well as he did, he took a moment to stow away his belongings and gather his wand into his primary hand. Standing then and setting his satchel out of the way, he looked on towards the girl and offered one last question, "Would you like a helping hand... or wand?" he finished, a little flick of the ivory-colored Aspen wood wand within his hand caused it to start to twirl like a drum-stick throughout his fingers.

Interacting with: @Santario Martin | Timidly Open to 1 More (Owl First)

Time dragged on as the boy looked up at her forty-five seconds of silence passed, and in most instances, that was nothing but a fleeting moment. At this moment, it would drag on, but the girl before him was patient, and she would wait for him to assess her, and she would take her turn in doing so as well. Taking in the small knife in his hands and the wood shavings on his clothes. Santario understood he was whittling, but she would not grasp what in the present moment. Then the boy spoke, and she blinked at him. Her grandmother would throw a fit if she saw this scene play out.

“No, you are correct. I should have done so, and I apologize. That was quite rude of me not to do. My name is Santario Martin. Most people usually recognize me as the girl with the camera or, well, I suppose from duelling now.” A small smile played with the corners of her lips, showing that she had not taken his words harshly. Had Santario been looking, she would have been hard-pressed to find someone who had not recognized her as one of the Slytherin Duelling Captains. So this she found a little refreshing, and that narrowed down that the boy was not a Slytherin. Not that it mattered to her either way.

The question she had posed answered, and she watched as he put his things away to give her the space she would need. “I certainly don’t plan on it, but then again, when does anyone really make a plan of falling on someone?” The last half of her sentence mused more to herself than to the boy. When he asked her if she needed a helping hand or wand, she shook her head and approached the tree while putting her camera back into her bag. “No, I’ve got the climbing part down pretty well.” Unless, of course, it was climbing down a well. That one had almost killed her. She shook her head gently to herself, clearing the thoughts from her mind of things that happened only a couple of months ago as she moved her camera bag to rest squarely on her lower back.

Her hand reached up and grasped the highest branch that she could fully wrap her hand around while bringing her foot up to rest on top of a knot in the trunk. She bounced a couple of times on the foot on the ground before bending her knee and propelling herself upwards. Her free hand grasped a branch, and she began her ascent. Though she would not go very far, just high enough to find a thick branch that could hold her weight, not that the girl seemed like she weighed much even when soaking wet, but not too high that she would be out of conversation range.

As she pulled herself onto the branch that she wanted to sit in, she rotated the camera bag off her lower back so that it would rest against her side. This allowed her to place her back firmly against the trunk of the tree to maintain her balance. “Alright, I am very set in this spot. You’re safe to resume your whittling.” Santario would once more remove her camera from its bag and wrap the red strap around her right forearm. She would take a deep breath as she brought the camera to her face letting the smells of nature ground her as she fixed the focus and zoom of her lens on the forest, ironically, through the tree.

A soft clicking of the shutter could be heard below as she snapped a few photos, ones that she thought would look spectacular once they were developed. A long shot of the forest with the frame surrounded by leaves of the tree she was in. If she was fortunate, she would be able to catch some birds flying in the distance, or if she switched to her macro lens, she could get some interesting leaf, bark, and bug photos.

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The responses of the girl were generally neutral in nature, he respected that. This would be someone he'd not mind having in his presence it'd seem, quiet and careful with their words. The one before him now didn't seem to want idle chit-chat as most of the catty girls in the school normally demanded. A cheek rose to force one of his eyes to close as he pondered her words on if someone would plan to fall, well, in his experience her words were true and he couldn't help but agree with her. She was logical at least.

She had mentioned that she was typically noted as 'the girl with the camera' and a vague memory came to the front of his mind of one matching that description at the summer events of the previous year, but, he couldn't pin the cloudy memory to the girl ahead of him. When she mentioned dueling, he couldn't help but roll his eyes lightly as he tilted his head down towards the ground for a moment, trying to hide his action. If she didn't know his name from his brief time in the dueling team, where he had been, well, removed quietly from his own team for reasons he'd prefer not to discuss, then he'd be happy to start on a blank state with the girl.

As she affirmed that she did not need assistance with the process of climbing up the tree, he just stood by for the moment, twisting that ivory-white wand throughout his fingers. Those golden eyes watched though, always on alert, just in case one of those un-planned accidents might occur. She seemed quite nimble, easily able to scale the tree to a location that she seemed comfortable with. The girl seemed to be settling into a position, he himself would walk over towards the crook of the tree that he had previously inhabited. The satchel was a short distance away, after he sat, so he'd have to stretch to reach it once more. Before he had done so, he'd settle that wand of his down upon the right thigh of his leg once more.

When he had once again acquired his belongings, he'd take a moment to think before his thoughts were interrupted by the girls' words. Santario, her name was she said, spoke aloud a few words to affirm her safety and readiness. This wasn't necessarily needed, as he felt them as two separate individuals in the same area, but, a little bit of reassurance was felt as he tilted his head back to look up into the tree. There wasn't much he could see, the branches were numerous, obstructing most of his vision of the girl, "Thats' good," he offered and before he knew why he would say it, he continued, "ya' let me know if ya' need anythin'," he finished.

Those golden eyes shifted back down towards his own satchel and he'd collect once more the carving knife and fished around for a piece of suitable wood to continue with his obsessions. Annoyingly, he didn't seem to have packed enough suitable-sized wood pieces that could be made into the shape and size of the faux-wands he was practicing. A slight huff would be made as he stared down into the bag, assessing if this would be the end of his day or not. The presence of the girl jogged a memory, a friend's birthday was soon and as the boy was not wealthy by any means, he'd have to use available resources to at least offer a gift to the friend.

With these thoughts in mind, he'd grab a block that seemed fit for the task at hand. The problem was, he wasn't quite sure what to craft for the moment and he sat for a few moments thinking upon the mental query. The soft clicks of the shutters from the camera would be heard between the tail end of the wind gusts, this brought an idea, and although he didn't want to disturb the girl above him who was in her own little world, he reached the end of his mental deliberation and couldn't figure out the riddle for himself. Letting out a small sigh, as he hated to force conversation, he'd tilt his head back to look up the tree once more and called out to the girl, "Hey Santario,"

The boy would wait a moment for the breeze to die down once more, he knew his first attempt to call out was probably muffled by the high winds of the Scottish Highlands. Once more, he'd try though, and he'd call out in a jumbled string of words that almost confused himself, "Hey Santario, what do girl, friends, like as presents?" he questioned, then found himself questioning his own words and worried that she figured it was for a girlfriend, not a girl-friend, "Like a girl who is a friend, not a girlfriend, ya' know what I mean?" and he felt a little redness being brought to his cheeks. Hopefully, the distance and the obstructed vision between them would hide this revelation upon his features.

Interacting with: @Santario Martin | Timidly Open to 1 More (Owl First)

“Of course, and same to you.” Santario returned the sentiment of asking if he needed anything, though what the two strangers could need from one another who could tell, besides the requirement of moving at some point.

Santario would gently move a branch with her foot and point her camera down, taking a photograph of Zyk whittling through the leaves before resuming long shots of the forest. Candid photos of people were her favorite kinds. You got to see people in their natural states, unposed. It brought her back to the time where she first met Alan Vanes. She had been strolling near the Care of Magical Creatures paddocks and heard a guitar playing. She had been trying to take photos of the animals, to no avail, but instead found the older boy who had such a serene look on his face as he strummed along. She could not resist herself.

The same had gone for Zyk, lost in his element of carving, and while his face could not be seen in the top-down view, the care his hands showed as he held the wood and knife seemed to be clear to her. Something she hoped translated well through the film. A few more clicks and pictures of the forest, and she decided to pull back and wrap her free hand around the lens, turning it until it clicked, notifying her of its detachment. Carefully she would nestle the lens into the free pocket in her bag and grab the other one. Once twisted and snapped into place, she would bring the camera back up to her face to calibrate the lens.

Now she could do extreme close-ups. Focusing tightly on the veins in the leaves while making the background unfocused. Getting the patterns in the bark and the knotwork in some of the trunk space above her. Then, of course, finding tiny bugs, like ants, just trying to go about their day gathering food without being disturbed. After a moment, her name brought her head out of her work, spoken by the boy below her. “Hm?” an instant reaction to her name being said as he continued asking his question. Before further clarifying that he meant just a friend and not a female, he was attempting to court.

“Well, I probably could not have helped you with the whole romantic girlfriend gift anyway. However, gifts for friends is something I am well versed in.” Santario leaned back against the tree trunk and used her foot to move the branches. Like before, he would still be somewhat obstructed looking at him through other leaves, but they could at least see that they were looking at each other. “Really, it depends on what she likes. Treat her like any other friend; gender hardly matters, honestly. Considering you are quite adept at whittling, you might try to whittle her favorite animal? Anything can buy anything, and sure, spending money on gifts is great, especially if there is a lot of thought put into it, but something handmade is truly a lovely thing.” She rambled slightly, and Zyk would learn as most people did that once you got her talking, Santario could and would talk. “Doesn’t even need to be an animal, really. Anything that she likes, you could probably make a symbol of it out of wood. Good practice for you as well.” Santario grew up with money, so she gave him the answer that she would like. Something handmade and sentimental.