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 Posted: Wed Jun 12, 2013 9:17 pm
As he did so, she took the time to look around with wide eyes, murmuring odd things to herself Gale might catch. "It's like cotton candy . . . Wooden cotton candy with a Spartan touch . . . I wonder . . ." Stormy actually paused to sniff the air as if to confirm something, then nodded just as Gale nabbed his runic bandages.
"D'you want me to do those?" she asked a little tentatively, knowing from today alone how sensitive Gale was to being taken care of. She hadn't moved from her spot whatsoever, as if confined to that particular square of reality unless otherwise moved--as if moving without being told would offend, even.
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Posted: Wed Jun 12, 2013 9:23 pm
He only half heard what Stormy was saying to herself, and the parts he did catch made little to no sense to him, so he just refrained from commenting.
At least on the "cotton candy" comment. The question about the bandages, however, made him smile slightly, the corners of his lips quirking upwards just a little.
"I'm not so sure how well it would go if I tried to do it myself," he admitted, shuffling his feet around. "So yeah, I might need a little help."
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Posted: Wed Jun 12, 2013 9:32 pm
"Gotcha." But she paused anyway as if to be sure about it before shuffling over. Stormy's experience with bandaging was still limited as far as doing it on others--she received plenty of experience doing it on herself. So she was just a bit more nervous as she approached Gale, because more than being her First Friend™, he was also the senior hunter here; if she did it wrong, he'd know.
"I, um . . . I really like how this place is set up," she commented as she took the runic bandages and set them aside. The one he wore looked a little too bloody . . . Addressing him as a scared animal (the closest parallel she had to go off of), Stormy slowly reached over to peel the used one off. "It's nice and colorful and a breath of fresh air sorta, if that makes sense. D'you have any sort of antiseptic or alcohol? It doesn't look so bad since you kept your fear shield, but I'd hate it if you got an infection on my account . . . If not, hot water and salt does fine too." I think. In theory.
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Posted: Wed Jun 12, 2013 9:38 pm
"Thank you," said Gale, wincing a little as the bandages were peeled off. His head was better than it would have been, had the Fear shield collapsed (which thankfully, it hadn't), but it still hurt like hell, and he nodded a little.
"There should be some in the drawer beside the oven," he said, and leaned back against the counter, arms folded loosely across his chest. "I stocked up on things after I decided I really didn't like getting anything infected."
A breath of fresh air. Yes, he liked that. He liked it a lot.
"It's a good place," said Gale, and there was a very satisfied look on his face, gentle and fond. "I know it's sort of, er...excluded, I guess, from the dorms, but I just...I dunno, I like it here."
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Posted: Wed Jun 12, 2013 9:51 pm
She floated over to the aforementioned drawer and gently ruffled through its contents until she found the antiseptic and a few cotton swabs. "Excluded isn't always bad, though," she told Gale as she returned and opened the bottle. "Just like someone who's alone isn't always lonely. When I get the chance, I'll probably come to town too. I need something like this: sturdy and colorful and full of soft things, and most of all just a little removed from the rest."
Dabbing a swab into the alcohol, Stormy approached once more and gave him a somewhat apologetic look. She wasn't going to bother saying hold still, this'll sting, but she did make her movements deliberate as she dabbed the swab against the wound. "I dunno about you, but I like some alone time more than I like a lot of people at once," she went on to say, trying to distract him if it indeed hurt. "Super introvert and all."
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Posted: Wed Jun 12, 2013 9:56 pm
He gave an involuntary hiss of pain at the first touch of the antiseptic against his forehead, gritting his teeth. After a while, the fire settled, however, leaving a dull, stinging sensation that spread across his temple and half of his face.
"I guess that's why I like it here," he said, and flinched again. "It's a place where I can come and be alone, you know? It's just...it's my own space, my own time to myself where I can just...do what it is that I need to do, and take the time to do it."
He shifted his feet a little. "That being said, if you ever want some time to yourself, and the dorms are feeling a bit too crowded...well, you're always welcome to come here, if you want. There's a spare bedroom that you can hide away in anytime you want, and I wouldn't bother you."
Gale shrugged, brushing some of his hair away out of his eyes. "A few people have stayed here over the past year, so it doesn't bother me."
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Posted: Wed Jun 12, 2013 10:07 pm
Stormy made a thoughtful noise as she dabbed a bit more to get the rest of the head wound. "Maybe . . . For the most part, what I've got is enough: Just an empty room full of pillows for a very airheaded girl." She took the swab away with a self-deprecating smile and examined the wound up close, tilting her head to avoid touching Gale's face. "I always feel a little weird inside people's houses at first. A house is a special place after all. It holds memories and smells and works differently from person to person, and it has its own order to it. Most of the time people don't disturb that, but somehow I did back then. I'd get curious about something and pick it up to bring to a different room, or get lost if it's big, or get distracted by the cat named Mittens even though it totally has sock marks on its legs."
She paused, then gave Gale a simpering smile. "Rambling again, aren't I . . . I can't help it sometimes. Do you want to wash the blood off before I put the new bandage on?"
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Posted: Wed Jun 12, 2013 10:40 pm
"You're not airheaded," Gale said. "You're just you. And you're pretty nice for being just you."
"But you're right about one thing," he said, tilting his head down a little to make it easier for Stormy to see what she was doing. "It's a good place, here. It's...it's my place, you know?"
He gave a small shrug, slightly embarrassed, but at the same time he was comfortable. "It's something I worked hard for, and it's something all of my own."
Smiling slightly, Gale leaned over to the sink and pushed the knob on, reaching for a washcloth that was draped over the handle of the nozzle. Dousing it a little, he wrung it out and cautiously dabbed at the side of his face.
"Ow."
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Posted: Wed Jun 12, 2013 10:52 pm
"I don't mean to say being airheaded is bad," Stormy replied mildly, stepping away to give him room for a moment. "It means I have a lot of space in my head for things; that's where the trivia and magic come from~ It also means people don't take me as seriously, but that's fine too . . . I'm used to that.
"But you should be proud, Gale, by the way. This house is a Nice Thing, and not everyone gets Nice Things," she added with a sagely nod. "And I think, since you worked hard for it and it's colorful and makes you happy where you normally sigh and frown and give that wry little smile, that it suits you. Everyone needs a calm center to go back to or they'll go mad, or worse."
She passed him a little smile as she took the new roll of runic bandages off the counter and stepped back into his personal space. "Say when!"
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Posted: Wed Jun 12, 2013 11:09 pm
He smiled. "That's the best definition I've heard for being airheaded, I think. And I don't know," He gave a small shrug. "Nobody ever takes me seriously. I'm always seen as a kid, as the young one, as someone who doesn't fit in. I thought becoming the first in my group to be promoted to full hunter would make them change their minds, and for some it did. For others, not so much."
The smile was genuine this time. "But it's enough for me to be able to have this house. This is my place of respite, my sanctuary." His cheeks grew slightly pink at the word, but it was true. "I complain all the time, but I do ove it here."
He finished wiping off the blood and gave a small grunt of pain, Gale dropping the now dirty washcloth into the sink to clean later.
"All right, I'm ready when you are."
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Posted: Thu Jun 13, 2013 12:11 am
She remembered that had been one of the first things they'd talked about back in the snow, as well as what had let her remember Gale's name where everywhere else she needed the crutch of a nickname: the youngest full hunter on the island. It was what set him apart in her mind and what had made her have hope for herself for the future, to let her accept the possibility that she wouldn't simply fade if she worked hard enough. " 'Those that matter don't mind, those that mind don't matter,' " she recited. "If it helps, though, I take you seriously. Even if I act odd or say strange things, I will always take my friends seriously because they definitely matter."
Her smile grew in return at the pride he spoke with about his house. "And that's why I'm hesitant to impose," she explained as she readied the bandages. "Really why I hesitate to do anything anyway. The things in your head, they're not solid at first; just hopes and nightmares and emotions and the whimsies in between. And since I'm always thinking, some things don't always get to settle down for me . . . But a house is sturdy and strong and dependable and very much there, and it won't move or turn around or get pulled up in a tornado and throw you into a strange land. You said it's been attacked before, right?" she asked with the light of one caught in a strong thought train in her eyes. "But it doesn't look like it at all 'cause you worked hard, huh. So it's not just a wooden cotton candy place with a Spartan touch, it's got your hands and your sweat and your blood and your footprints too. It's not just a building with four walls and a roof, it's a sanctuary like you said . . . It's a symbol. God, I love symbols . . ."
Stormy realized she was ranting again and began to flush, even as she found herself unable to stop talking now that the thought got ahold of her. "It's a house that stands physically and stands metaphorically too, and I'm overthinking again but it's got such a lovely interior and exterior and history that I can't help myself by feeling a little nervous here. It has dear meaning to someone. And symbols, metaphors, analogies, allegories, metric feet and meters, rhythm, diction--those things reign in my head, and anything and everything can have a meaning or pattern if you know where to look, and my head's always filling its spaces with words and thoughts and observations, always moving from this or that, so that even if I try to explain it like I'm doing now it doesn't make sense, and I'm terribly terribly sorry I'm using your time like this."
She leaned forward and gently pressed the runic bandage smoothly to Gale's wound, then pulled back as quick as she could to go back to occupying her little space, pink-faced and embarrassed for herself as her hands clasped before her. "That sounded better in my head," Stormy mumbled. Where it probably belonged, considering she'd spilled words culminating with the simple idea that a house made her nervous because it mattered a lot to Gale.
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Posted: Thu Jun 13, 2013 6:58 am
Gale opened his mouth to reply to that comment, to say something else, but whatever it was that he had been going to say was lost in his throat the more Stormy talked. He was slightly taken aback by this onslaught of words, eyes widening a little, but it was more from the fact that she, out of everyone else, was the only one to really seemed to understand his need for this house, for this little home. In spite of everything, in spite of the fact that there were shadowlings day and night, that the town was unsafe, as everyone kept reminding him, there was a deep, unending need for such a place; a desire to have this little strong, dependable, very much there house.
He didn't even wince this time as she put the bandaid on, his eyes flickering slightly.
"...thank you," said Gale quietly, after a moment. He absently twisted the ring on his finger, tilting his head slightly to look at Stormy. "I think that's quite possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."
A slight pause.
"And it sounded pretty good to me."
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Posted: Thu Jun 13, 2013 1:48 pm
Stormy wasn't sure what sort of response she had been expecting. Maybe an "okay...?" or a blank look at best; certainly not a compliment. She didn't say anything at first, her head tilted slightly as if listening for something: an undertone to his words, a patronizing "that's nice" hidden behind what he said, oh look Stormy was rambling again. After all, most of what she said was nonsense anyway, so it was to be expected. It was what she had been bracing for anytime a thought scurried across the plain of her mind, an inbred impulse after being treated by one person and one person only as a sort of child that had never really gotten past the bumbling stage of language development. There was something that had been in his eyes for the briefest of moments, but what she caught (or thought she caught), she wasn't sure of.
But Gale seemed...genuine with his reply. And she didn't know how to respond to that except to blink owlishly and blush more like an idiot.
"Oh." There was a small flutter in her chest. "I'm glad to hear...Most've it is lost on people," she mumbled. But if the nicest thing Gale ever heard was that he was right to be proud of a house he worked for, after a meandering five hundred words to get to that point, then Stormy had to wonder just what he heard most of the time.
She also had to wonder where her head was going, because she'd almost killed the conversation with this, and people liked conversation, and if she didn't talk things would get awkward again,and she didn't want him feeling that in his own home after having been pit in the jungle and all, and...She sucked in a breath and went with the first thing on her mind. "Have you heard of T.S. Eliot?"
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Posted: Thu Jun 13, 2013 3:09 pm
For several seconds they both just stared at one another, neither one quite understanding. And at first Gale was concerned that he had made her uncomfortable - but after a moment, some of the tension in his shoulders eased, and he gave her a kind smile, his eyes flickering across the pink in her cheeks that was so very like the color in his own.
"It's not lost on me," he said lightly, and gave a small shrug, trying to act as though he was not quite touched by her comments. "It's something meaningful to me, and so far you're one of the only people to have gotten that."
He reached up a hand and absently touched the bandage on his head, turning slightly so that he could look at her, a curious expression on his face.
"T.S. Eliot, the poet?" Gale asked. "I've heard of him, but I haven't read much of him. I didn't exactly have much schooling before I came to Deus, unfortunately."
His face colored slightly, embarrassed by the admission. Truth be told, he hadn't had practically any education other than primary and secondary schools; he'd never had the chance to go any further before coming to Deus, after all.
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Posted: Thu Jun 13, 2013 3:44 pm
There was a smile again, a miracle that a guy so serious was able to smile more than once in a day! Like sunny spots behind the clouds, she thought with a small, serene smile. If she could give anyone even that much, just a chance to lift the burdens of a costly life with the corners of their lips, then it was a day well earned. "It's easy to get, I thought," she said a bit softly. "Like a box holding something covered in lots of wrapping: it takes a bit to get to the center, but it's not hard..." Unless he counted rambling for a few minutes extra hard.
She lightly slapped her cheeks to ward off further blushing and shook her head out. "I ran across him by accident," Stormy went on to say. "There was a bonus assignment to memorize a poem, and the longer it was the more points you got. I didn't need the points, but we'd been reading some things and I got inspired to try anyway."
There was a pause in which she closed her eyes and sifted through her memories to find the lines she needed. Some parts were rusty, others wanted to be out of order...It was a poem of decent length for sure, and it was hard enough to not be distracted by bouncing random thoughts, like the smell of antiseptic and the curve of that kind smile. At length she took in a breath.
"Let us go then, you and I," she recited, "When the evening is spread out against the sky, Like a patient etherized upon a table." Stormy lifted a hand as if waiting for Gale to take it, a light smile appearing with the motion, her eyes still closed.
"Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells~"
There had been an original point to this, but Stormy felt sillier than normal today and wanted to play around before getting there. Maybe there were still remnant emotions from playing Pirates.
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