10-28-2013, 04:09 PM
Rune's fatigue washed away a little when Thalia opened the door. Dealing with 'regular folk' always seemed to wrench Rune out of the dark hole that was her life no matter how worn she was at the time. It was like being doused with cold water. It shook her out of the funk.
Her smile was genuinely happy to see Thal, but behind the smaller girl's shoulder Rune took in the ruffles of the room. It was pasted with sheets and sheets of paper. She saw tufts of it stuck everywhere. Where there wasn't paper there was canvas. Or the boards to stretch canvas. Or pots and jars of paint and pottery. It smelled like culture. Like sundrenched culture. Rune barely knew what to do with herself. She'd never seen anything so pretty stuffed into one airy room like this.
She felt smaller entering into the realm. Like the first time she remembered seeing the mountains. It felt like Uncle Seth drove for days and the peaks never got any closer. Then all of a sudden she woke up one morning, looked through the windshield, and suddenly they dwarfed high overhead.
"Thanks!" she beamed in reaction to the hair about the time she caught a glimpse of herself in the window. The flop of hair that folded far from one side of her head had come loose of some of its hair spray and a cherry-red tendril kept looping down in front of her eyes. Long enough to brush her nose, but not long enough to keep tucked behind the other ear. So she stuffed it back there anyway.
Rune dropped her bag by the door, planted her hans on her hips and turned in a circle. "This is where you live?" She asked breathily, undistinguishing work space from living space. It was a feat all in and of itself to have a permanent place to come back to every day anyway. That someone needed two spaces for both halves of their lives, Rune couldn't even fathom.
She plopped on the couch, and the folder in question popped at the sudden drop of weight on the cushion. But reflexes quick as a lizard's tongue grabbed the folder before it crashed to the floor. She had it open on her lap a second later, thumbing through the sketches.
She'd already plucked out two that caught her eye, and tucked the corner of one page between the pronges of her teeth when Thal asked about a drink. She mumbled an answer back, "Umm got any Fizz or Buzz or Burn or Vault? Anything like that?" She could already feel her last energy drink wearing off. Crappy Moscow knockoffs. She missed the good ole US of A sometimes.
Her smile was genuinely happy to see Thal, but behind the smaller girl's shoulder Rune took in the ruffles of the room. It was pasted with sheets and sheets of paper. She saw tufts of it stuck everywhere. Where there wasn't paper there was canvas. Or the boards to stretch canvas. Or pots and jars of paint and pottery. It smelled like culture. Like sundrenched culture. Rune barely knew what to do with herself. She'd never seen anything so pretty stuffed into one airy room like this.
She felt smaller entering into the realm. Like the first time she remembered seeing the mountains. It felt like Uncle Seth drove for days and the peaks never got any closer. Then all of a sudden she woke up one morning, looked through the windshield, and suddenly they dwarfed high overhead.
"Thanks!" she beamed in reaction to the hair about the time she caught a glimpse of herself in the window. The flop of hair that folded far from one side of her head had come loose of some of its hair spray and a cherry-red tendril kept looping down in front of her eyes. Long enough to brush her nose, but not long enough to keep tucked behind the other ear. So she stuffed it back there anyway.
Rune dropped her bag by the door, planted her hans on her hips and turned in a circle. "This is where you live?" She asked breathily, undistinguishing work space from living space. It was a feat all in and of itself to have a permanent place to come back to every day anyway. That someone needed two spaces for both halves of their lives, Rune couldn't even fathom.
She plopped on the couch, and the folder in question popped at the sudden drop of weight on the cushion. But reflexes quick as a lizard's tongue grabbed the folder before it crashed to the floor. She had it open on her lap a second later, thumbing through the sketches.
She'd already plucked out two that caught her eye, and tucked the corner of one page between the pronges of her teeth when Thal asked about a drink. She mumbled an answer back, "Umm got any Fizz or Buzz or Burn or Vault? Anything like that?" She could already feel her last energy drink wearing off. Crappy Moscow knockoffs. She missed the good ole US of A sometimes.