Welcome to Gaia! ::

It is so much more than who is willing to give more or less. War is not that simple. War is conviction, training, supplies, field tactics, economics, and much more. It is not two equal sides, chessboard placed with two exactly match-ranked players facing off.

Nor are we all the same in small reasons and motivations, as many as fit those criteria. All the Negaverse is anathema to free existence of no one person or planet, that much is clear.

Quenton fished a teacup and tea tray, the honey and a spoon and took it to the little table. He just put it over top the music papers, and offered with a hand the other seat to her before taking one himself. "The design studio hall is Northwest from here, about two-tenths of a mile. Its the sand-coloured brick with marble window facing, four floors and there's a basement. " The thought of food was just dismal. "I think there's probably just oatmeal in one of those cupboards. Don't worry about it, unless you're feeling particularly hungry at the moment yourself. I don't have much of a stomach after walking. I'm pretty sure the nurses put a four pack of ensure in that bag you were kind to carry. Its why it was heavier that one would expect for just a bag of discharge instructions and antibiotics. "

And painkillers. My chest. He got up again and pushed the bag over with a foot- he didn't have it in him to crouch there and rummage it neatly. The bottle of hydrocodone was easy to pick out and bring back to the table. "Not all of the studios are air conditioned. Large open spaces are expensive to bother with. A lot of the freshman courses get the basement studios, painting and fine arts tend toward the upper floors and North-light windows. And don't sit on the drawing benches if you're wearing anything you car about. The charcoal and graphite coats everything from the figure drawing classes."

"There are heaters and fans in the classrooms, but they're for use near the models during figure drawing classes. In a seventeen by twenty foot room a space heater near the model won't do you much good. I don't believe there is a LOT of policy on it, actually. Essentially you can't leave a heater or fan you bring in in the building over night unless you're there overnight."

"Which studios are only open twenty-four hours during midterms and finals unless you get dispensation from the dean. But if you're willing to lug in a heater or fan every class and take it home after, the professors don't say anything. I've known one or two commuters to carry box fans in their trunk during summer semester. "

"Otherwise the best advice is dress for the occasion- Henley in winter and tanktop in summer. For studio art classes, you may be shy or awkward at first from all the puritan bull shaming that everyone is indoctrinated with, but after the first semester you should be a lot more used to objectifying bodies as just bodies- we all have one, they come in different shapes and sizes and it makes for interesting studies. Once you get to that point, wearing a bikini, shorts, and flip-flops to summer studio will be possible and you won't be baking in the ninety degree weather. A lot of the art department has the benefit of being less body shaming and more understanding of weather challenges. Honestly, I've preferred being ON the model stand during the summer. " At least it was an excuse to be wearing as little as humanly possible during heat waves. Guys could get away with wearing no shirt, but with bottoms they didn't get the benefit of super short daisy dukes.

I ....guess I could wear daisy dukes if I really wanted to. Hell, I could wear a bikini top, too, if I wanted. Wouldn't that be an eyesore. He paused on the thoughts, distracted from the line of conversation for a moment.

"You have a car-?" It was blurted out looking down at the two items. Was her family like Alex's? Well, she did go to Crystal. Technically his own bloodlines indicated no differently- the Marinus family was blueblooded many generations back. "A gift? Just for..Delilah-"

He traced fingers along the edge of the brown paper, like it was either unreal or delicate- even the wrapping something precious. Alex was already too kind in his offers of food on the occasions that they crossed paths anymore. He hadn't gotten gifts in boxes of any sorts from anyone except Stroud since he was fifteen. He looked up from it, seeking her eyes, "Thank you. "

"Do you prefer gifts opened or not when you're there? I know its rude for some."

Holding a pose still, clothes on or not, for three hours is easily worth the twelve an hour compared to minimum wage and having to bus tables for a lot longer to make the same amount. There hadn't been an occasion for it to be awkward since he didn't have more than acquaintances among the student body and he hadn't had a bad luck of the draw yet to put him modelling for one of Alex's classes. Getting stuck modelling for a Figure Studies 101 with Delilah in it would now qualify in the same boat of weird. Of course, if he did pursue getting a TA position that would have its own host of strangeness in teaching people he knew.

Quenton carefully slid the paper with the number aside to free up the box- his nails were long from the month without sculpting, which was helpful for being neat with the tape. He pulled out the scarf and the gloves separately, setting each reverently on the table next to the box and wrapping and tracing them curiously in turn. "They'll come in handy for the spring with chilly mornings and evenings still."

The scarf felt and looked like a firework in the room's study of greys and desaturated, worn texture. "It goes likewise. If either you or Hannah need anything feel free to call or come. "

The compliment softened his features, all the while his hand carefully gathered the bright object to lift and hold against his chest. It was silky in texture, and he wondered if she'd bought it or made it herself in relation to their talks about the prices and types of scarves on the market. He just held it there, unmoving, like a dreamkite that might fly away.

It was another kindness that she was carrying the dishes, and one that would be foolish to refute. "Thank you for the gift, the care and the escort Delilah."

"Apologies, I don't think I can formally 'see you to the door' like a good host," not that the portal wasn't visible from the dinette. It was right there. But he wasn't getting up from that chair in the next twenty minutes. And after that, it was to move to the bed. The last of the parting words were soft, but held all the fire she had seen turned to apprehension from predilection, "Please take care. "