Welcome to Gaia! ::

((As usual, totally random, semi-related title, which should not be taken as an indicator of any RP events to come. And Elda, lemme know if you need any changes!))


The laughter, screams, and general chatter of children was ever-present at the Liberty Center, but around lunch time, it entered a whole new dimension. With stomachs rumbling, teachers taking a break to eat their own lunches, and whole cafeteria to fill with students, things took on the general appearance and noise level of a circus, elephants included.

Normally, Grayson was in that circus with everyone else, but today he'd decided to eat lunch outside under the trees, which you could do if you were quiet and didn't run around. For some reason, the lunch monitor didn't like kids running around -- "this isn't P. E. class!" was the excuse always used. So Grayson followed the rules and didn't have his outside lunch privileges revoked.

But "be quiet" meant "no yelling," not "no talking," so Grayson was more than happy to try and find someone to sit with to eat his lunch. It was a packed lunch today, a special treat for getting an A on his spelling test. (It had only taken him hours and hours of studying, normally his tests were all Bs.) Grayson looked about for a place to sit with his normal sunny smile, looking for the prettiest spot to share.

Grayson didn't startle, didn't even blink, just turned and responded with an equally cheery, "Hi!" that clearly stated despite his dark coloring he was all sunshine. His eyes wrinkled with genuine happiness when he smiled. "I like your lunchbox!" He himself just had a brown paper bag, but his dad had drawn a soccer ball in black ink with a brush pen, along with some squiggly lines of little strokes that looked like animal scratches.

"My fa did," said Grayson, whose own artistic skill left a lot to desire. His mind wasn't very well suited to the patient exploration of line and form, though he did like lots and lots of bright colors. After a moment to shuffle the lunch bag, he stuck out his hand. "'M Grayson. 'S nice to meet you, Cece!"

"Sure!" he said. Grayson was easy, at least where friendships were concerned. He shrugged at the nearest bench, perfect for two to sit with room for a lunch spread between them. "So what do you have?"

Grayson unfurled the crumpled lip of the paper bag and poked his nose inside. He sniffed delicately, twice. His face lit up with pleasure. "It's fish! I think mackerel, and tuna, and herring!" He pulled out a little black plastic case with clear lid and was right on all three counts. There was a juice box in there, too, and crackers and a shrink-wrapped log of white rice, but Grayson didn't seem to care about those things. It was all about the fish for him.

"Fish is great!" exclaimed Grayson, not able to understand how anyone could ever believe anything different. He hastily opened up the little plastic container to show Cecelia so she might understand. There were the slices of tuna and mackerel, raw and glistening sashimi, like pieces of jeweled candy to Grayson's big dark eyes. "That one's the mackerel." It was silver, with a bit of brownish stripe along the side.

And there was the herring, completely and totally whole, heads and tails and all. Five little herring mouths hung open in silent, deathly screams. Their beady little eyes stared at nothing, their little silvery scales gleamed in the sunlight. They shimmered in a way that almost made them seem alive. (Which was entirely due to Grayson's hand not being particularly steady. They were most definitely dead at this point.)