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Post by Tyler Dias on Jul 26, 2007 2:07:53 GMT -5
So it was a warm, sunny day but nothing could drag him out to embrace the light's rays so Tyler had secluded himself in the attic of their ancient school. Not dusting or cleaning and hiding a secret, nothing like that, but merely sitting in the deserted room with the highest ceiling upon the wooden planked flooring, daydreaming. An old canvas he had brought for no reason found new worth as he looked at it after having set it up to past time with splashing paint over the material. Only recently, he had discovered how fun and amusing it was to randomly pour and watch the blots of paint drip to form its own representation of his mood. This was made a hobby and he followed it in a whirlwind of curiousity, regardless of how aimless it was as he didn't plan to do anything with the abstract pieces. The canvas supply would run out too, eventually. Then what would he do?
It was getting lonesome up there and the light was dull yet glaring. Specks of dust could be seen although the atmosphere shouldn't have appearance; he was wondering just how much of mingled substances he had inhaled. Over thinking wasn't a good idea and he had his share of daydreaming for a day so now, it made sense to leave. Unconcerned, he left his work up there with the knowledge that no one would arrive to discover nor remove it; It was a safe bet and he couldn't care less even if there were people to find the 'mess'.
The staircase down the attic couldn't fit everything he had gathered up there from sun's past so it wasn't really a matter of choice, he thought as he lowered himself from the trapdoor and down the tiny gap in the rarely trespassed niche. As he felt the hard surface of a stair beneath his shoe, he stepped on something that seemed to have cracked under his weight and stooped after traveling down a few more steps, to pick it up. It was a tiny seed and nothing of interest to him but it did fascinate him enough to begin questioning why it was even there and Ty decided to take a pause; sitting in the niche, confused.
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Post by Sharie Morse on Jul 26, 2007 2:36:15 GMT -5
Whenever it was a particularly warm and sunny day, Sharie would climb up into the attic, sit on one of the musty old couches, and sketch. She found that the dust-filled air reminded her of home, which always seemed to make her sketches more detailed or better shaded, or just more realistic. When she woke up that morning, she glanced out the window only once and knew without a doubt that it would be one of her attic days. Without haste, she grabbed her sketchbook, a jar of ink, and her favorite quill, and headed to the attic. As she walked through the hallways, people gave her strange looks, but she shrugged them off. She never bothered to change out of her pajamas when it was an attic day.
The staircase came into view, and she smiled silently to herself. Sharie climbed up the steps lazily, still tired. She made it about halfway to her sketching haven before she slipped on some cans of paint, and spilled it all over the stairs and herself. Adding to the mess, the ink jar hit the wood with a crash and sprayed ink all over the place. She knew she was a klutz, but this was just ridiculous. She sighed, and tried to shake a can of paint off of her foot. Just then she noticed Tyler sitting in the niche, holding something in his hand.
"Mind helping clean up here?" Sharie half-expected him to say no and walk away, laughing. But she wasn't stupid and figured it was probably his paint. "If this is your paint, I'm really sorry." She offered an apologetic smile, and hoped he would understand.
ooc: sorry i took so long. and that it's short. writer's block. *whacks head*
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Post by Tyler Dias on Jul 26, 2007 2:45:48 GMT -5
There wasn’t another he had known who would venture out here; it was a niche and hardly seen by anyone curious. It didn’t trouble him that no one, or so he thought, shared the same passions of art and spending hours in an attic; that calming assumption was subject to change when the sound of jars against books came ringing. Then, it wasn’t the ringing but the picture of it and how spilled paint over pajamas looked that caught his eye.
Enter Sharie; he stared at her without the aloofness or cool demeanour he had hoped to pull off in her presence. It was neither the moment nor the timing that caused him the loss of words for an introduction and the blank expression that lingered as he studied her unconsciously. His mind wasn’t focused; it was absorbing her appearance and whatever comments she made was blown past his ear. For his own sake, he was glad he wasn’t one to gawk nor was he one to lose himself in admiration and intrigue. Just, the subject was her and he hadn’t seen her for the longest time; in fact, any longer and they would have forgotten about each other. The idea was more complex than simple and it was just hard to imagine how detached they were from the past, when they attended the same school. Students were meant to see each other, or at least traces of each other every other day until one got tired of the same faces and the same sights and sounds; willing to leave as soon as possible.
The thought struck him and it was confirmed that he was either a loner or there just hadn’t been enough activity around to make him realise how many souls there were flitting by, in and out of classroom doors. He didn’t find this lack of observation a bad thing, for once, and would have happily continued to dwell deeper and deeper on reason and imagination had his manners not awakened him. She was standing before him, coloured; the seed was for that instant, forgotten though it was rotating in his hand and by his fingers as if it was a familiar habit and object.
“It was but I don’t think it was wasted and even if it was, not for a bad cause. You don't have to be that sorry.” It was blunt and still only half expressing the real him but he wasn’t going to force him to be all that charming when he casually wasn’t in the mood. Tyler merely grinned slightly and understood perfectly well what she said, to move aside but stop half way in his movement to pretend to take a photograph of the disastrous wreck; Inside, he did wish he had a camera though.
ooc: it's fine Shar; i take ages too. Plus, i have no idea what i'm writing. lol.
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Post by Sharie Morse on Jul 26, 2007 3:17:07 GMT -5
Frazzled Sharie was relieved when Tyler did not get angry at her for what had happened. She began to simply wipe the paint off of her pajamas instead of use magic because she had left her wand in her dorm. It was odd to her how awkward it had become between them when they were once good friends. But time and distance had cut them apart, and now, they were nothing more than fellow students. Sharie wondered for a brief moment if they would ever be friends again, and slightly hoped they would be. But that would be for them as a pair to decide; not for Sharie alone.
Looking at the paint on the walls and the stairs made her chuckle half-heartedly, wondering how she could make such a mess alone. These particular kinds of accidents were not rare for the young lady either; she often made messes and broke important things. Once at one of her birthday parties, she tripped over her own feet and landed face first in the large chocolate cake. It had been fun at the time (most likely because she was eight years old), but looking back at it now was slightly embarrassing. There was also when she had stepped in dog dung in her backyard and unknowingly tracked it through her entire house. Sharie was a disaster waiting to happen.
"Thanks Ty." She dared to call him by his nickname, knowing that nicknames were generally between friends. "Good thing no one else saw that." She smiled and laughed for a moment before facing the attic and climbing a few more steps. She motioned for him to follow, and with a simple head nod, she hoped he understood that they would clean up the paint and ink later. Hopefully, he had his wand.
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Post by Tyler Dias on Jul 26, 2007 3:28:47 GMT -5
Despite the missing camera, he acted like he had registered the girl’s, in pajamas and carrying books with splattered paint in various colours, image in his mind. The truth was, his memory was photographic and it made it easy for him to love art the way he did; it was natural and he couldn’t deny even if he had preferred a normal textbook mind in order to raise his grades and make studying the priority. Back to reality, and he was still nowhere near achieving the aim of making himself studious, instead getting droplets of paint on his hands and clothes too. He was helping her, without resent and made the time alittle more lighthearted, to himself, by striping both his cheeks in two different colours. They were just dabs from the spilled paint and it could last as a memorial considering he had to make things disappear with a wave of a wand in a few more minutes- as he predicted she would like but was later proven wrong. Sharie was a surprising one and as far as striping cheeks with paint, he would do the same to her face but chose against it and made no sign of the intention though it was in his mind. Presently, facing the same direction she was turned until he halted in midstep.
Things had to be tidied in some way or another or one would take advantage of magic too often and too much. Procrastination was already more of a sin to him than anything and laziness was not going to be addition. His shoes were now wet but he didn’t mind and finally dug for his wand while she was beckoned with her little jars, books and quill to stand out of the way until the general scene was spotless. It would be her turn to cleanse herself if she so wished.
“Scourgify.” To be honest, it was a lazy wave that didn’t flatter his polished wand and his chant had been equally relaxed. With luck by her hopes, he did have his wand by him. All this while, the seed he’d found had been abandoned and now that he had magically wiped out any unwanted existence, it was gone. It had been cracked but not crushed like he had first thought it would be upon discovery but that was why it was removed by the spell too; it wasn’t a proper seed and theoretically would have been swept by cleaners anyway.
“You’re welcome” This time, he didn’t freeze up even with her mention of his nickname. They had been good friends but of course, time was distance in their case. He had decided for himself without her agreement that they would clean this place up before they departed anywhere; he had no clue as to why he felt obliged to go with her but it wasn’t disturbing. The cleaning had been done before he acknowledged her thanks and answered but he guessed she wouldn’t mind, just like she may have hoped he didn’t mind the clumsiness. It was her trait so what more could he say?
“No one else has to see that now, even if we are going back up there? And that’s just a guess but I believe you’re still determined to go to the attic. How is it I’ve never known you come here too? I must be missing a nerve.” Everything he had just done wasn't going to surprise; she knew him after all and he was deviating from the norm.
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Post by Sharie Morse on Jul 26, 2007 14:38:33 GMT -5
He was proving to be far more cheerful and cooperative than Sharie would have expected; and was glad when he attempted to put a bright spin on the mess by striping his cheeks in paint. A smile crept onto her face, and she striped her own cheeks as well, even though her entire face was already covered with several different colors. She had a momentary urge to put a dollop of blue paint on the tip of Tyler’s nose, but Sharie ignored it. She continued to wipe the paint off of her pajamas, but gave up when she realized she was just rubbing the paint into the fabric rather than removing it. Sharie tossed her books and quill into the niche, so that her drawings and favorite quill wouldn’t be soiled.
All of a sudden, all the paint disappeared, and she was puzzled for a moment before glancing at Tyler and recognizing the wand motion for the cleaning spell. His tone had been quiet, and Sharie had not heard him speak the words. Currently, she was the most colourful object in the entire stairway, and she did not doubt the same in the entire school. Not once had she questioned what he was doing in the attic with paint on a day like today, because she knew, he too had a fixation with art. That was the main thing they had in common and one of the reasons they had been such good friends.
“Well, yeah. I mean I don’t want the entire school to think I’m any clumsier, if that’s even possible. And I don’t mind you watching me be a fool, I guess because . . . . you’re you. You’re Tyler.” Sharie shrugged, grabbed her belongings, and started to climb up to the attic again. “Also, to answer your question, I have no idea how we haven’t run into each other before today. I’ve been coming to the attic for a while now, and I haven’t noticed you once. But you can come up with me if you’d like. There’s something I want to show you.”
She didn’t know if Tyler was following her, and she didn’t bother to look back and check. When she reached the door that marked the end of the stairs and the entrance of the attic she turned the knob, leaving a blue handprint. Sharie walked to the easel that sat propped up in the middle of the room, and studied it for a moment. Abstract painting was one of her favorite forms of art, and this was a rather fascinating example. The paint was still glistening from being wet, and logically, only one person could have painted it. Tyler. Without turning around, she spoke.
“Did you paint this? Wow . . . it’s really something.” Her words seemed to be muffled by the amount of dust and mold floating in the air. She resisted the temptation of reaching out and touching the painting, knowing that it would ruin it. After a few moments, she turned around and put her books and other such things on the floor.
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Post by Tyler Dias on Jul 27, 2007 11:29:29 GMT -5
To him, the attic was obviously a haven for anyone who longed to indulge in some peace and quiet. It was the most suited place for artists, musicians and those of the erudite nature. The space and general feeling of the environment made innovation come alive speedily and time was never wasted in this place, where they stood. Once again his train of thought was beginning to drift. How he loathed his now frequently hazy psyche, despite not having too many problems with it because no one was ever to notice how much the attitudes and emotions within him had evolved.
Snapping back to his senses, for the nth time of that day, since her voice had called to him, Tyler blinked blankly whilst nodding as if the belonging of the painting to him was a matter of fact that everyone knew. Long story short, it was still such a self proclaimed belief though the action was fallen to being pointless due to her facing the painting and not him.
When she didn’t turn around after praising, he began a slow swaggering approach to her, remaining a small perimeter around the easel and canvas where paint was still drying, to speak so that she knew he had responded. Before he had opened his mouth to answer, she had turned unpredictably to put her materials on the floor, so he mutter a thanks and shut it again with an uncontrolled cheekiness creeping up because he felt silly. It was cheekiness and mind-boggling, regardless of any of his urges to remark on the topic of silliness, immediately. With regards to the urges, it’d have been too demanding for the average brain to handle. He was a confusing individual; it didn’t take anyone long to pinpoint that characteristic.
Seconds passed as they both rested in the cacophony of sounds; mainly projected from the arranging of her materials and discordant tunes of activity elsewhere, echoing. It was a magical world they lived in, after all, and they had to share with creatures of any type. Tyler was used to it, the skittering, squeaks and whatnot. Silence would come at some hours but what could you expect of day walkers when the sun was up? Busy bustling would begin. It was just accepted as routine and not a bother. . . Company was special though; especially when it was an old friend.
“You know, I could only be myself and there’s no other way out so I suppose you could count on being yourself with me. No matter how clumsy you present yourself to be. Funny, I never considered you to be klutzy; for what just happened too. It was more. . . It happened while neither of us expected.”
His eyes moved toward the wooden framed window as he reflected his earlier reaction; the nodding and somewhat haughty expression when she hadn’t turned around before he reached where he was now poised. There were numerous reactions he could reflect though but that one was just his pride intruding.
“I did wish . . . and I still do for the little streaks you’ve also dabbed on your cheeks, that I had a camera. That, I’ll just say cause It’d have been a spectacular photo and there’d have been more than one of them to keep.”
It would turn awkward if he didn’t speak all that much but he had just rambled a million things, in his opinion, and now Sharie might not even remember his preference for psycho analysing everything and that he was an unfazed dreamer. Sliding his hands into the pockets of his uniform pants, he hastily added.
“What did you want to show me?”
Having blindly followed her lead to make this entire return to the attic, whatever she had to show him, unless it had been hidden, should have been noticed. Maybe it wasn’t eye catching, but it was no excuse to have totally deemed himself unobservant when he had once been the most observant; He really was missing a nerve now.
ooc: Blah.... I apologise for not being here lastnight, had a bad night. lol. And as for this post- well, i just went along with whatever my brain provided me today. Another cookie for you shar.
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