ᴀʀᴀɴᴇᴀ ♛ ʜɪɢʜᴡɪɴᴅ (
merced) wrote in
meadowlarklogs2019-02-01 06:34 am
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catch-all.
WHO: Aranea Highwind + select individuals
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: OOC: February | IC: September 16 - 30.
WHAT: February catch-all!
NOTES OR WARNINGS: n/a for now - will edit if needed.
If you'd like to plot something / for me to write you a starter, feel free to hit me up via PM to this account!
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: OOC: February | IC: September 16 - 30.
WHAT: February catch-all!
NOTES OR WARNINGS: n/a for now - will edit if needed.
If you'd like to plot something / for me to write you a starter, feel free to hit me up via PM to this account!
no subject
They don’t need an extra pair of helping hands today (disappointingly, which means Markus must fill his daytime hours with some other endeavor), and just as he’s turning away from speaking to one of the gallery managers, a familiar voice pulls his attention in a different direction.]
Hey.
[Light, soft-spoken, the usual easy grin in greeting. He steps forward, taking a moment to eye her state: better than before, but certainly still sporting the crutches and a less cumbersome cast.]
I'm feeling a lot better than we last met. I’m even cognizant enough to catch whatever you happen to throw at me.
[He jests, it’s all in good humor. But seriously don’t throw anything at him this time.]
You're looking more energetic, too.
no subject
He looks better, too - less peaked, eyes alert, a faint smile as opposed to the curl of bleary-eyed confusion. It's a relief, after the state of their respective injuries. Markus isn't someone she wants to see down and out. ]
Yeah, it's amazing what some emergency surgery and orange juice can do for you.
You work here?
no subject
To think what might’ve happened if you hadn’t have helped me with my straw.
[Two faint jokes in a row — it must be some kind of record. If anything, it’s proof of Markus’ improved physical and mental state, no longer as wracked with stress as before. As if whatever snapping point looming above him has already come to pass, and now things are slowly falling back into place.]
Emergency surgery or not, it’s promising that you’re up and exploring the city. But no, I don’t work at any of the galleries in this area, though I sometimes drop by to see if there’s any volunteer work that needs to be done. Art installation isn’t always easy. Otherwise, I like to see what’s on display.
What about you? Don’t tell me you’re an art connoisseur.
[Actually do tell him, that’d be great.]
no subject
[ As answers go, it might be a worse one than, "I was told to walk every day and needed to get out of the sun" - but they're both true in their own ways. Half a shrug, confined to one shoulder, and she puts some work into pivoting so she can face the closest row of artwork. This shouldn't be a task that takes a great deal of time, except she's still one-fourth immobile and balancing on cumbersome pieces of plastic, so.
They've talked about her material inclinations before. He's likely not surprised. ]
I don't know much about art, actually... but I like pretty things.
[ A contemplative moment, and then she points to one piece in particular. ]
That one. That'd look great on my wall.
no subject
Materialistic, maybe, but even Markus knows that having pockets lined with figurative cash goes a long way in making life more comfortable. He still doesn't know Aranea that well, and he can hardly blame her for it.]
This one...
[Words trail off softly as he follows, following her gesture and scrutinizing the piece. Markus' first impression is that he likes it; it reflects his own painterly style of quick, feathered brush strokes and impressionistic inclinations.]
You like it because it's 'pretty'? I can challenge that viewpoint, and tell you that it looks ominous to me.
no subject
[ It's a fairly simple statement for a not-so simple thought. The dark colours and stormy atmosphere don't say ominous to her - she sees life and change in the dark clouds, infinite possbility in the night, an ocean that can touch shores upon shores, miles apart. She feels like she could walk into the painting and go anywhere.
However, Aranea says none of that. ]
Gotta wonder what that says about me.
no subject
[Simple statements or complex ones, in the end, Markus is simply trying to spark a conversation about the art -- and in doing so, peering a little deeper into Aranea as a person. What makes her tick, what she dismisses as unimportant.
It's a tried-and-true tradition of visiting local art galleries, after all. Share some of those thoughts with Markus, Aranea.]
What do you think it says about you? Or, actually... why are you drawn to this piece in general?
no subject
Her thoughts, once spoken aloud, are hardly as eloquent or as ordered as they had been when they were merely impressions in her mind. ]
If I was there - [ Hm. A pause.
If it's possible for Aranea to seem unsure of herself, this is as close as anyone may ever see her getting. ]
It looks like a smaller part of the whole. The canves ends there, [ a tiny jab of her finger, indicating ] but the picture doesn't. I'd like to keep walkin' and find out what's next.
[ She looks back at Markus. ]
You're not gonna find any mindblowing insight out of me, you know.
no subject
Sometimes it’s as simple as “I like the colors”, or “I wish I could be there in person”. Markus has viewed plenty of those himself, a few digitally portrayed here in this very gallery, bright swaths of fantastical nature that vitalizes imagination and unearths inspiration. He doesn’t need a complicated answer, he just wants an answer — and he finds it strange that there’s the crease of uncertainty across her brow when she hands it to him.]
That’s all right. [—he says, easily, meaning it. He leans incrementally in her direction, still looking at the piece, as if sharing with her some deep secret.] Let me tell you why I think it’s ominous; the colors are too dark, and the sea looks like it’d swallow me whole.
[Lips quirk upward, blink and you’ll miss it.]
Doesn’t always have to be mind-blowing commentary.
no subject
So, what one do you like best?
no subject
Here, I’ll show you.
[And so he’ll lead the way at a slow pace, cognizant of her injury and her reliance on the crutches.
Eventually, they stop at a piece. It only appears once they draw close, popping up as virtual reality art via their implants — swirling, moving, lurching forward then slowly receding back, like waves on a shore.]
This one is hard to ignore.
no subject
Yeah. You're right about that much.
[ Hard to ignore, indeed. As the art dissolves in, Aranea rubs at an eye. ]
It's... [ Hm. ] Too confused. There's no order. [ Her military discipline, as limited as it might be, balks instinctively. ]
no subject
And is that such a bad thing?
[Though to be fair, this one is decidedly very… trippy.]
no subject
[ Maybe it's just a sign of how old and out of touch she is (that's a joke, she's not old), but she already knows she wouldn't buy this. There's nothing comforting about its ever-moving swirls, no indication of a foothold. She can't figure out where it begins or ends. It - it has no boundaries. It doesn't mesh with the sensibilities of someone who organises her life very carefully.
That one little thought, about boundaries, is the one that sticks. Aranea steals another surreptitious glance at Markus out of the corner of her eye before voicing it. ]
Feels like it'd just take over the entire wall if I brought it home.
no subject
Taking on a literal life of its own. I can see why that might bother you.
[It’s interesting, too, to still see it confined in a rectangular shape — he wonders if that was purposeful.]
But if nothing more, it’s a piece that’ll strike up a conversation. Sometimes I think about trying to make something like this; maybe use up the tubes of paint that usually get neglected.
no subject
[ Aranea glances over, looking suitably intrigued - and a touch paler than she did a second ago, as a knot of pain settles quite cozily in her upper thigh. ]
no subject
[Often. A lot. Came from a household where he was surrounded by art, headed by a prominent artist who remains close to his heart, an endless inspiration.
All of which could be said, of course, if not for Markus’ powers of observation — something that aids him in his propensity to read subtle changes in others — noticing the growing pallor creeping across Aranea’s complexion. Whatever he was going to say next is ignored in favor of concern.]
Tired? Maybe we should find a place to sit.
[There are, after all, such places inside this gallery — but outside, along the expansive square in which this establishment exists, even more so.]
no subject
Yeah, why not.
[ The air conditioning is beginning to feel a bit too chilly on her bare arms, so out they go. She does want to hear more about his artistic endeavours, though, and adds, somewhat playfully - ]
You gonna sign my cast?
[ do markers even exist in New Amsterdam ]
no subject
Markus’ step is unhurried as he leads them in that direction.]
Do you want me to? I can do better than just sign it.
[He doesn’t have markers, but he does have the power of VR.]
no subject
Line like that, I'm not sure whether to say yes or no.
[ She's just kidding. Mostly.
That said, she definitely needs more information. Reading a the termsna and conditions of a contract before signing, as they might say. ]
Whatcha have in mind?
no subject
They’re just a couple of elderly people, these two.
Still, he can’t help but sound amused.]
It isn’t as ominous as it sounds, I promise. [Gesturing at her cast-] I can paint on it — digitally. Whatever you want.
no subject
[ A slow smile creeps across her expression. ]
You any good?
[ The fact that the muscles in his jaw seem to fold when he sits down goes unremarked upon by Aranea, but not unnoticed. Pain is a private thing, or so she's always thought, and his isn't intruded upon. ]
no subject
I hope so, otherwise someone needs to give me a reality check.
[Especially given the circles he runs in.
Now that he’s seated, the ache is happy to reside in the background, and Markus continues.]
The advantage of VR means that if you hate it, you can delete it. I promise I won’t take too much offense.
no subject
[ Just kidding. No way she'll erase whatever it is. ]
Just make it cool.
[ She rubs at the shorn hair at the nape of her neck, just a little. Part of her enjoys the idea of an artist plying his trade on some part of her, as per her aforementioned appreciation of pretty things. Part of her is almost a bit flustered, as if this is somehow breaking her intention to hold most things at arm's length, because even if it isn't indelible, it feels like it should be. Technology of this level wasn't available in Eos, after all.
On the other hand (the third hand?) - if it's cool, it's okay. That's, like, a law or something. ]
no subject
He laughs faintly, though it’s cut short by the way it makes his side pang with an ache.]
A cool what, though? You get to pick the subject matter.