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Chester A. Arthur Campfire, Thursday Evening

Emma was bored. Staying in the cabin for more than a few hours was making her twitch; she'd the close quarters made things too loud, even when she was at her most focused. After being on her own for over a year, and just Hank for company for the last month or so, so many people was making her almost physically ill.

Which is why she was lounging out by the campfire in defiance of the glitter that still occasionally drifted down from the sky. Sunglasses on her face and idly flipping through a magazine while she sucked on a popsicle she'd found somewhere, letting her mind streach and wander about as she relaxed the tight hold she'd been keeping over herself since this morning.

Bored. For a school supposedly full of people with powers, so far, most of them were startlingly dull. Emma was starting to despair.

Maybe some of their thoughts would be more entertaining than the students themselves seemed to be.

[Open as campfires be!]

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"All over," he replied, giving the standard response. "London of late. You?"

"Del Sombre for most of my life," she answered with a smile, "and San Francisco of late. Though I was on vacation a couple of weeks ago and that could be considered 'all over'."

"Where's Del Sombre?" Griff asked, intrigued by the name.

"California, up near the Napa Valley," which was really the only reason anyone ever came there.

"Mostly we existed for the wine tourists to stop on their way to or from there."

Ah, his hopes were dashed. "Ah, the tourism industry. I spent a few years running tours and language courses at a resort in Mexico. People coming and going can be interesting."

"You ran tours in Mexico? What were you doing down there?"

"Learning Spanish," he teased. "And living with some friends for a while." Griff was starting to feel like the lie about his parents wasn't going to last through many more meetings.

She considered poking at the fire with a stick.

"I learned my Spanish from a book," she said, wondering if her pronunciation was atrocious or not.

"You sound a little like Robert. He travels all the time."

"Yeah? How's your accent?" he wondered.

"And who's Robert?"

"I don't know. I only ever speak it to myself," she told him.

"My brother wasn't ever any good at it."

She finally found a stick and nudged the one errant piece of wood where she wanted it.

"Robert is my... friend. He's my uncle's Driver, but he's taken me around to a few places. He brings Uncle Henry all manner of places, but he took me out a few times as well. He told me all about the places we went to during our vacation."

Edited 2009-05-15 02:56 (UTC)

"That's your twin, right?"

Ah, friend. "Were you vacationing abroad?"

"Eliot, yes."

She grinned a little at the question as she thought back over the week they'd spent together.

"It was a treat from my Uncle Henry. We went all over. So many names and so many places. I'd never been anywhere before; it was wonderful. Especially the beaches."

Which brought up their last discussion and her face fell a little.

"I don't know if we'll ever do it again, but it was nice."

"Yeah, I miss the beach," Griff agreed, having his own fond memories of the clear water along the edge of Oaxaca.

"What sorts of things do you do for fun?"

Cut things. Not die.

"I used to learn languages and annoy my brother," she told him with a deep huff out.

"Now? I don't know. I like practicing at the salle" but she wouldn't call that 'fun' exactly "and shopping. I'll have to see what else there is to do before I figure out what's the most fun."

She tilted her head in his direction.

"What about you?"

Hide from murderers while tracking them down.

"I like studying," he offered. "I draw a bit and I practice karate every day." He missed the dojo something fierce.

"I've never studied karate in person. I read any number of books on it, though. That and a few other systems."

She thought about it, then turned her head again.

"You draw?"

Art had been as forbidden as fiction in the Post apartment.

"I sketch mostly. Buildings and people I see in different cities. Are you an artist?"

That got a laugh out of her.

"No, that's not my path. That would be my brother. He's never put himself to drawing, but I'll make you a bet he'd be brilliant at it. He can do things with his violin that surprised even our father, I think."

She didn't want to talk about that.

"I'd like to see that. The buildings and the people. It sounds interesting."

"Then I'll have to show you my sketchbook sometime. Get some real criticism on it." He rarely got the chance for that.

"Do you really want me to be critical?" she asked, surprised at the idea.

"How else will I improve?" Griff asked. "I'm hoping for a...weather-event free day to draw some of the school."

How else indeed.

Almost on a whim, she found herself asking "Are you going to draw me?"

She hadn't meant to say it, but now she was thinking of her Aunt Dallas and the picture they'd seen of her in their book. Would there be pictures of her one day in a book? The goddess Fiona, patron of...

She couldn't think of anything and promptly let the thought fade.

He was taken aback by her question. "Uh...if you'd like me to, I could."

Really, she'd make a nice composition, head tilted just so.

She colored a little.

"I don't know; it's just something new and different. I wouldn't mind it, though.

It was good not to be the only one with pink cheeks. There was a benefit to hiding under a hood.

"Cool. Uh, that is if you like my stuff. Wouldn't rope you into it blind."

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cutsthestrings.livejournal.com - 2009-05-15 11:47 (UTC) - Expand

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