Diversions

[MurderWeasel]

((Lydia Robbins continued from Head Up, Heels Down))

It was another cool day in Seattle, and Lydia was outside, shivering a little as she pulled her coat a bit tighter around her. She'd been planning to eat in the lunch room, but Alison and a group of her friends had been set up there, and so it had just been easier to slip out quietly and find somewhere else. It hadn't looked too bad outside. The sky was grey and cloudy, but it was not raining, and Lydia was fairly confident that that would hold at least until the end of her lunch break. She was pretty good at predicting rain, at least within an hour or so of its arrival. She'd underestimated the chill, however, or perhaps she was simply not in the proper frame of mind today for cold weather.

She sat underneath a tree. The gazebos were her usual spot, but today she wanted a little bit more cover, and one of the trees provided a nice windbreak. She had a book of Sudoku puzzles open, and was currently trying to work through one of the intermediate ones. She'd already blazed past one of the easy warm-ups. It was a good way to relax, and a good way to feel a bit better about the history paper she'd gotten back. That C- hurt a bit. Her grammar was bad, and that was okay, but the teacher had said her ideas needed a lot of development, and Lydia had actually put a bunch of thought into this one. She'd figured she'd get at least a low B, and now she didn't know how she'd done on the quiz, either.

With a sigh, she shook the thoughts free from their stronghold in her mind. She would pass. Even if she failed the quiz, she would pass the class. That was all that was really important.

[BROseidon†]

(Cassandra Black continued from After the Battle)

Cassandra decided that eating lunch outside would be a good change of pace. Sure, it was a little chilly, but she had a coat to keep her warm, and she could hopefully finish of Jacque le Fataliste before she had to run to her next class. That Cassandra had left her iPod at home, and thus would have had to deal with the noise of the cafeteria while reading, only gave her further incentive to change her routine and eat outside.

She saw a tree with only one girl sitting underneath it. The girl seem occupied with some sort of book, and she had a pencil to it. Maybe she was taking notes for a class, or maybe it was a puzzle book. Cassandra didn't care. What she cared about was that there was a tree that provided good cover from the wind, and that there was only one person there who seemed like she would mind her own business. Cassandra would be able to munch on her sandwich and read her book in peace.

Cassandra walked over to the girl. "Hey, do you mind if I sit here?"

[MurderWeasel]

Lydia glanced up as a voice shook her out of her trance. She'd been on a roll, to the point where she'd nearly filled in the entire upper left box. That would've made everything else a good deal easier. She didn't resent the newcomer for diverting her attention, though; it was way nicer for someone to be polite and respectful than to look up and just find them looming there silently, watching.

"Oh, no, go ahead," Lydia said. She smiled while trying to remember the girl's name. Cassandra, she thought. Did Cassandra go by Cassie? It would be presumptuous to ask or assume.

Lydia didn't immediately turn back to her puzzles. That would have been rude, and she didn't want to give Cassandra the cold shoulder or make the girl feel unwelcome. Maybe Cassandra wanted to talk. There wasn't any real reason she'd want to talk to Lydia of all people, but then again sometimes people wanted things that didn't make much sense. Lydia just wanted to be sure she didn't shut the girl out.

[Pippi]

((Chase Rodriguez continued from Shake and Stutter))

Another lunch break at Aurora High School. Another day where Chase felt like he could easily fall asleep right in the middle of the corridor. The cause was, yet again, a late night attempt to improve upon his art skills. Chase had tried painting rather than sculpturing last night; in particular, watercolours. Chase had always been even worse with that medium than he had with possibly any other. He'd first tried copying an image from a book that was lying on the paint-covered desk he used for his art. He'd used too much water and not enough paint, however, and the paper had soon turned into a sodden mess. After that, Chase had simply attempted to paint what was around him. The colours and shapes he drew flowed into each other, thanks to his lack of knowledge on the ideal ratio of water to paint, but the end result was actual pleasantly artistic. It had been nothing like what Chase had been aiming for, but it could easily pass as a minimalist piece.

The consequence to Chase's discovery, of course, was the fact that it took him well into the early hours of the morning. He had slumped into his bed, then woken up what felt like seconds later. He was able to deal with late nights well, of course, but there was still a limit, and Chase felt that he was reaching that limit.

The weather was fairly brisk and cold, but that was exactly what Chase wanted. Maybe the chill would wake him up a little. He'd brought a jacket with him to school, but he didn't see the need to wear it yet; the cold hadn't quite got to him, as he strolled lazily past the gazebos. It currently lay slung over his shoulder, slowly threatening to slip off with every step.

Chase noticed a couple of people huddled around a tree, and decided to head towards it. The closer he got, the more he could see of them. They were both girls, and one was sitting, the other standing. The standing one turned out to be Cassandra Black, who was... well, focused and driven, for sure. Her social graces left a little to be desired, as far as Chase knew. The sitting girl was Lydia Robbins. Lydia was generally cool and friendly, although Chase knew she had some issues with her sister, as well as working under pressure.

Chase waved at the two, hoping his footsteps would alert them to his presence if they didn't see him. "Hey there, Lydia, Cassandra." Chase said in a friendly tone. "How're thi-" Chase's sentence was abruptly cut off by a sudden yawn. Chase covered his mouth, and blinked a few times, before smiling rather embarrassedly.

"Ugh. Sorry." He apologised. "Late night."

[BROseidon†]

The other girl was friendly in greeting her and offering permission for settling down under the tree for lunch. Cassandra knew she recognized the girl, but couldn't quite remember her name. Something with an "L," perhaps. Lily? Laura? Cassandra couldn't quite remember. Not that this bothered Cassandra. She'd chosen to neglect her social relations for a few years in order to focus on her academics and getting into the right school. Cassandra was optimistic about her future, and thus felt that her choices had been correct.

"Thanks," Cassandra responded with a smile.

Just as Cassandra was about to sit down, she heard a voice from behind her. While the voice had informed her that the other girl's name was Lydia, Cassandra was blanking on this guy's name. It only took a moment for her to remember that his name was Chase, given that they had had a few classes together.

Cassandra took a seat where she was standing and pulled out her sandwich. "Things are nice, Chase. Just going to have some lunch and read my book." Hopefully he got the message that she just wanted some personal time to read.

[MurderWeasel]

It seemed like the conversation was about to end with Cassandra's thanking of Lydia. Lydia had just started to turn back to her puzzle when a boy showed up. She didn't have time to call his name to mind before he had been revealed as Chase.

"I'm doing okay," she said to him after Cassandra had replied to his abortive question. "How're you? I'm sorry you're tired."

Talking about being tired, combined with having seen Chase yawn, had an almost suggestive effect on Lydia. She felt a yawn of her own building, and it didn't make any sense at all. She'd gotten proper rest. She hadn't been up late. She wasn't even tired. None of that stopped her from letting out it out, though. It was a little bit loud, but at least she'd had enough forewarning to cover her mouth with her right hand. It was awkward using a hand holding a pencil, but her left hand was busy keeping her place in the Sudoku book, so she didn't have many options.

As soon as she'd finished, Lydia glanced at the other two, a little bit embarrassed by her questionable social graces.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

[Pippi]

Both girls replied to Chase's half asked question, their answers short and to the point. Cassandra in particular seemed a little preoccupied, as if she would much rather read and eat than talk. Chase couldn't exactly see the point of going up to sit with someone if you weren't going to talk to them, but as long as Cass was happy with the arrangements, that was cool.

Like Cassandra, Lydia was also doing okay, returning his own question and saying he was sorry about how tired he was. Before Chase could speak, however, Lydia seemed to take a cue out of his own book, letting out a fairly large yawn too. Chase watched with mild amusement at the domino-like effect his own yawn had made, before shaking his head at Lydia's apology, chuckling a little.

"Hey, no worries. Great minds think alike, huh?" Chase said, smiling. "As for me, I'm doing just grand. Making some sort of progress on an art piece, which is why I'm so tired. Architect of my own demise, that's me."

Chase tried to grin, but he was forced to twist his mouth into a grimace, as another yawn threatened to emerge. He didn't want to set off the whole routine again; for all he knew, Cassandra might join in on the act as well.

"Anyway," Chase said, once the yawn had passed. "Do you mind if I sit with you two? Hall's kinda too stuffy for my liking today."

[BROseidon†]

Cassandra flipped to her location in the book, her eyes gliding over the elegant French prose. After she'd answered Chase's question, Lydia seemed to follow suit, and the other two seemed to maintain some sort of dialogue. Cassandra wasn't really paying attention to what they were saying. She was engrossed in her picaresque novel.

What had drawn Cassandra to the work was how much the author incorporated metanarrative aspects into a novel. The complexities within the work that the author created through contradictions, dualities, and the constant calling into question of the narrative itself forced Cassandra to think about her own personal narrative. Unlike the narrative of the book, which was constantly interrupted by the storytelling of different characters, Cassandra's narrative could be broken into two distinct parts separated by her mother's death and her uprooting. Her narratives were both smooth, easily explained by the context around her. This analysis of her life had made her think about how different her life would be if she had maybe let randomness, let other people change her narrative. Maybe Cassandra would have had regrets if she didn't like the trajectory of her narrative, but she could see where it was going was was pleased. Maybe letting randomness take shift her story would have ended up with something better, but that would have been a risk, and not a risk Cassandra was willing to take.

Cassandra was lost in the words on the page, so much so that she had blocked out the other two around her. Chase's question didn't even register when he asked it.

[MurderWeasel]

Lydia chuckled a bit as Chase talked about great minds. Her mind, great? Not unless the world was a puzzle book. Speaking of, she'd totally fallen out of her groove, but that was okay. She'd pick the Sudoku up later, maybe finish at home or under her desk later in the day. Talking with people was more fun. Lydia still got a bit nervous about socializing sometimes, but she'd met some very cool people at school, and so far it seemed like Cassandra and Chase were going to be pleasant company.

"Go ahead," she said to Chase, gesturing for him to sit. Lydia chewed her lip a bit after that. It seemed like Cassandra had checked out of the talk in favor of her book, which left Lydia in the slightly unusual position of keeping things moving.

"I didn't know you did art," she added after a moment. She'd almost asked about architecture, but couldn't really be sure whether Chase was just using a figure of speech. Better not to risk it.

"Do you draw or paint? Is it tough? I wish I could draw."

Knitting was as far as Lydia's artistic talents went, and a sweater was nice and practical but not something that would ever be hung in a gallery. She viewed knitting more as a craft than an art, a thing with some applications but which didn't involve a whole lot of imagination, at least at her level of skill.

[Pippi]

Chase smiled at Lydia, and muttered "Cool" in response to her gesturing him to sit down. His eyes flickered briefly to Cassandra, to see whether she had any complaints or anything at all to add. The girl seemed to be completely engrossed in her book, however, which struck Chase as a little rude. On the other hand, maybe she just wanted to be in the company of other people without speaking to them. Maybe she didn't like the idea of sitting alone, or something.

Chase slid his bag off of his back, and carefully sat down; he didn't want to slip, or drop his bag, or accidentally swing it into one of the two girls' faces, or anything else that his clumsiness could easily lead to. Chase stretched his legs out, and rolled his neck back, trying to eke out any tiredness he felt in his body.

After a brief pause, Lydia asked Chase about his artistic endeavours. Chase smiled a little at that. He would've thought that his paint-dappled clothes would have been a bit of a giveaway to him doing art, but then again, his clumsiness wasn't exactly hidden. He could easily have been doing something completely unrelated to art, and spilled paint all over himself. The realisation that this was a totally legitimate possibility was a little disconcerting to Chase.

"I think I've used most mediums of art at some point" Chase answered. "Paint, pencil, oil pastel, chalk, charcoal, you name it. Right now I'm doing a lot of sculpture and clay work. As for how difficult it is..." Chase let out a short laugh, and looked upwards, as if trying to remember something.

"You could spend hours on a painting, working on every tiny detail, adding more and more to it. Then you finally look back and realise it's awful, and beyond repair. And yeah, that's happened to me before. It's definitely tough."

Chase looked down for a moment, before looking across at Lydia, a small smile on his face.

"Don't let me discourage you or anything, if you ever think about doing art. You'd probably be a far sight better than me. I'm... not exactly great at it."

[BROseidon†]

Cassandra kept on reading. She could vaguely hear the voices around her, but the noise was minimal enough that it didn't distract her.

She was getting closer and closer to the end. Another book would bite the dust, and Cassandra would have to find something else to break the monotony of the rest of her routine.

It never occurred to Cassandra that she could choose to break it right then and there. There were two of here peers right next to her, having a conversation about a topic that Cassandra knew nearly nothing about. She could learn something new, grow as a person. Nevertheless, Cassandra was too focused on her book, much like Cassandra had been too focused on her future to interact with people around her.

So there Cassandra sat, finishing off the last few pages of Jacques le Fataliste.

[MurderWeasel]

"That must be fun, doing all those different things," Lydia said to Chase. "I think it'd be too much for me, though. I'm not very good at learning new things."

Lydia meant what she said, but she also didn't want to even possibly risk hurting Chase's feelings by implying she agreed with his view of their comparative chances. It sounded like he wasn't very confident about his art, but at the same time he cared enough about it to spend a lot of time and focus on it. Lydia couldn't tell if he had poor self esteem or merely a realistic assessment of his own capabilities.

Part of that uncertainty probably came from the fact that she hadn't actually seen any of Chase's art, or at least she couldn't call any to mind. Maybe some had been displayed in the school's art shows, but Lydia had never really paid much attention to those and couldn't even begin to recall which students had been featured.

"I bet you're good," she added. It seemed polite, at the very least. Even if Chase wasn't good at all, showing a little confidence in his skill might help him feel better. Besides, Lydia was legitimately terrible at art. She couldn't even draw stick figures consistently nicely.

[Pippi]

Chase smiled at Lydia's complement, although he also scratched the back of his skull in mild embarrassment. It wasn't as if it was the first time Chase had been complemented or praised for anything, although it was one of the few times Chase could remember it being for his art. It was just some sort of natural reaction, he guessed. It was also a little awkward being praised for something that he knew he could do a lot better at. Chase guessed Lydia hadn't seen any of his art around school, seeing as she hadn't known he did art in the first place.

"Heh, well, thanks." Chase responded, slowly tracing shapes in the ground with his finger. "Maybe I was being a little too harsh on myself there. I could sure be a lot worse. And I could also be a lot better. I guess that's kind of why I keep doing it. I just want to get better at it, and if I just keep ploughing on, sooner or later something's gonna click." Chase clicked his fingers at the end of his sentence, as if to emphasise his point.

Chase was silent for a moment, looking down at his hand idly tracing across the ground. He stopped rather abruptly, and looked up at Lydia. His smile, which had disappeared during his silence, was back on his face.

"I'm sure you'd be able to pick it up just fine, if you ever wanted to." Chase said. "Don't need to use everything like I do. Just find a medium that works for you and go for it. And don't try and impress everyone with your stuff, because no matter what it is, someone out there's gonna take a dislike to it. Aim to impress a select few people; your mom, your friends... yourself, most importantly."

Chase fell silent again, feeling more embarrassed than before. Lydia hadn't said she was going to ever pick up art, but Chase had just gone right ahead and started gushing about it. Still, he didn't entirely regret what he'd said. Art truly was his passion, and if he could inspire or persuade other people to take it up as well, then even better. Chase could see no harm in it at all. He looked up at Cassandra. The girl was still absorbed in her book. Chase wondered whether she'd like to know more about art. On the other hand, she could see him as being annoying and imposing, which was not the attitude Chase wanted to portray. Chase stayed silent, now idly twining a couple of blades of grass together.

[BROseidon†]

(Sorry guys for not having something more interesting. I've been busy with stuff lately, and I don't want to hold up the thread)

Cassandra continued reading, munching on her sandwich as she did so. She remained zoned out for the rest of the lunch period before leaving for her next class.

(Cassandra Black continued elsewhere)

[MurderWeasel]

"Everyone can always improve at stuff," Lydia said. It was true. When she'd taken up riding, she'd been really bad to start. Slowly but surely she had improved, and while she was by no means good now, she at least wasn't a menace to herself and the horses. She'd never really considered taking another hobby the same way, actually. Sure, there was room to improve on Sudoku and knitting, but both of those were very practicable at a baseline level of skill. There wasn't a ton to judge improvement on beyond increased speed and complexity.

Lydia took a look at Chase and Cassandra. It seemed like Cassandra was happy with her book, so Lydia was content to leave her alone. Chase seemed a little bit out of sorts, but she couldn't begin to guess why.

"What kind of art did you start with?" she asked Chase. She wondered whether he'd started out with simple stuff, or if he'd dived straight in. It felt like drawing would be a lot easier than sculpting. Lines could always be erased, but stone couldn't be un-cut. Of course, she wasn't really sure if Chase did that sort of sculpture. It'd have been cool if he did, though.