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 Posted: Thu Aug 04, 2016 6:54 pm
In retrospect, working on her art project in a somewhat busy cafe probably wasn’t the best idea, but she was feeling too restless working where she wasn’t around people, so Charlie Durand packed up her yarn and knitting and crochet needles and made herself comfortable at one of the overstuffed chairs in the corner of the cafe. From there, she could cheerfully work on her project while listening to the people chatter around her, talking about trite and mundane things going on in their lives, or politics, or celebrity gossip.
It was wonderful! The atmosphere, the smell, the drawal of the elite coffee and/or tea drinkers. Everything!
She dressed for the weather; jean shorts, a baggy tee shirt that hid her unimpressive figure, and a couple streaks of pink and orange on her left side standing out with the rest of her silvery blonde hair drawn up into a ponytail. The only piece of jewelry she wore was a silver charm of a winged unicorn hanging from around her neck. It was probably rather childish, but she aspired to have the skill to make something like it herself.
A particularly difficult knot in the dark blue ball of yarn she’d found at the thrift store had her sticking the end of the crochet hook in her mouth as she struggled to get the knot undone. Only for it to slip out of her grasp and roll across the floor, which would have been fine, except, to Charlie’s horror, it rolled through the many table and chair legs that made up the furniture of the cafe.
“Ah! Look out,” she called, the metal hook dropping to the floor with a clatter, having forgotten she stuck it in her mouth, and she quickly jumped up to chase after it as it was accidentally kicked in another direction, finally rolling to a stop under some guy’s table.
“Sorry! I’ll just… grab this,” she quickly apologized, dropping to her hands and knees as she struggled to reach the ball of yarn, and attempt to roll it back to follow the string and untangle it from the table and chair legs.
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Posted: Fri Sep 23, 2016 5:53 pm
Fritz adored coffee shops - but this was mostly because of his everlasting and somewhat embarrassingly stereotypical love of tea, if Fritz was even capable of being embarrassed by something like that (which he wasn't, as he'd told Hitch multiple times). There was something fascinating about cafes, maybe because they reminded him a little bit of England.
He was there now, with a mug of Earl Gray in his hands and a few buns on a plate in front of him, both hands wrapped around his cup. Fritz breathed it in, taking a small sip, and letting his gaze wander around the crowded, messy place he was in.
Ordinarily, he would have brought a sketchpad and maybe drawn some of the customers. Fritz felt a painful twinge in his chest, and then a ghost pain in his wrist, as though somehow his hand could tell what he wanted and what he couldn't have at the same time.
Something knocked gently against his foot and jolted him less gently out of his thoughts. Fritz lowered the teacup in his hands down as a girl darted towards him, scrambling to pick up something brightly colored from underneath his table, and automatically, he scooted back, trying to accommodate her.
"Oh - sorry - please, let me help," he said quickly, reaching down for whatever it was and only succeeding to make it more tangled.
"Oh - bollocks - "
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2016 9:22 pm
”Wait, wait, don’t!” she tried to stop him as he reached for the ball of yarn, only for the guy with the horribly fake accent to knock the yarn in another direction. “Aw, man, look what you did,” she cried in distress, quickly trying to grab the ball and only managing to get stuck between the table and the guy’s chair… under the table.
Which she would have been totally embarrassed about had she not been trying to grab the yarn before it got super gross from rolling around on the floor, which she was sure wasn’t as sanitary as she hoped it would be, made even worse by the fact that she was on her hands and knees now.
“Hey, sorry, could you scoot back?” she asked as she tried to wiggle free, glad that her short stature could allow her to squeeze through most tight places… as long as her hips would fit. Naturally, they were not on her side this time.
“Are you an actor?” she couldn’t help but ask as she gracelessly flopped onto her side on the floor to finally grab the ball before it could be kicked away again, a small “yay” escaping as she grabbed it, but now came the task of trying to detangle it from everything.
“Your accent is okay but maybe practice on pronunciation a little? I mean, you’re obviously not English, so… And 'bollocks'? Really? That's just so obvious. A little more creativity wouldn't hurt,” she said with a sage nod, tugging at the yarn as she sat under the table to try and untangle everything.
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Posted: Wed Sep 28, 2016 6:38 pm
Fritz had attempted to help, which, in turn, had only made things worse, it seemed. He wasn't entirely bothered about this; it was just yarn, after all, and it was kind of amusing to see it rolling merrily along the floor of the coffee shop, even if the girl didn't think so.
"Of course, of course," he said, Fritz standing and pushing his chair back. He stopped trying to help and just let her snatch it, twining multicolored strands around her fingers. Her hair was so vibrant; he almost missed the question she was asking.
His eyebrows rose. "An actor?" he said, head tilting to the side. "No, I'm not an actor, why - "
It became clear a second later, the more she spoke - and she was still sitting underneath the table. Fritz carefully lowered himself back into his chair, still pushed out, and crossed one leg idly over the other, reaching for his cup and saucer and taking a delicate sip.
"Frederick Benjamin St. James, also known by the more common moniker of 'Fritz,' born October 10th, and raised in Leavesden, of the providence of Hertfordshire in England. Came to the United States at age twenty with his identical twin brother, Rhys James Autenberry, and now resides in a flat overlooking most of Destiny City. Enjoys cats, painting, and bothering his brother's fiance."
Fritz lifted his head and gave the girl an innocent look, teacup still raised.
"I can show you my passport, if you'd like, or would you rather a birth certificate? Though I must say, the photograph is terrible," Fritz added.
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Posted: Wed Sep 28, 2016 11:01 pm
Charlie slowly worked on rolling the yarn back into a ball, weaving it in and out of the chair and table legs as she tried to untangle it from where it had gotten all crisscrossed and messed up. And all the while she squinted skeptically up at this supposed not-actor. He even had tea!!
“You’re pretty good, I’ll admit that,” she gaped up at him, surprised that he had a whole story for his persona. “Are you in a play? Uh… it’s method acting, right? You’re living the part to become the part, yeah?” she guessed, reaching under his lifted foot so she could untangle the yarn from the chair legs as she crouched under the table still.
“Don’t you think there’s a more… I don’t know… English name you could have used? Like… George or… Henry?” Charlie suggested, shaking her head in disbelief. “And why the United States? Of all the places Fritz could have gone, why did he and his… identical twin brother with… a different name? move to Destiny City? I feel like there’s a lot you could add to really spice up your background. Like… does your brother have a different name because he’s in witness protection? And painting is a little cliche, don’t you think? And why October tenth? Is there some kind of special meaning behind that date? Ten ten?” she continued to ramble, clearly pleased with her help and direction she was offering.
She’d almost forgotten that she was still under the table, even as she was finished rolling up the ball of yarn from where it had been tangled, and now the string was leading her back towards where she’d left her things.
“Oh…” she mumbled in surprise as she glanced towards the other side of the cafe, even more surprised to find herself a little disappointed that she was already being lead away and back to where she had been sitting. Although she was sure this guy was glad for the excuse of her leaving him be again.
“Maybe I should come up with my own story,” she mused, gently shuffling the ball of yarn in her hands, and then slowly started making her way out from under the table and to her feet. “I know it’s silly, but I kind of feel like Princess Irene, with the yarn, I mean. Before she gets her grandmother’s ring, at least,” she explained and then let out a small, awkward laugh. “I used to love that movie when I was little. The Princess and the Goblin. Anyway, thanks for your help with this,” she said, lifting the ball once more, and then turning to look determinedly towards where the line was still tangled beneath the rest of the tables and chairs.
“Break a leg with your play! And wish me luck with this,” she said in something of a groan as she lowered herself back onto her knees to continue rolling up the ball, and only now realizing how ridiculous she probably seemed, somehow managing to turn away in time to hide the dark flush of her cheeks.
Yeah... it was probably a good thing that she had an excuse to run the hell away after that.
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Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2016 7:10 am
Rather than be offended that his history was being downplayed as a theatrical persona, Fritz was sort of amused. He hadn't known there was someone in this world capable of living in such a peculiar place inside of their head, but if she wanted to believe that, well...
"Method acting is important," he said seriously, which was difficult, because he was trying very hard not to smile. "It's how you get into character, yes, and how else would I be able to truly understand my character if I did not act the part when no one is watching?"
He flashed the girl a grand smile, Fritz reclining back in his seat. "I didn't choose the name," he said, with a careless shrug of his shoulders. "I suppose George would have been better, I do like George, but alas, this was a name chosen for me by my directors."
Fritz took a sip of his tea, jiggling his foot a little. He wondered if he could successfully pull off an American accent, then decided not to risk it; chances were, that would sound even worse than his supposed English one, his eyebrows raising.
"Well, if you want to know all of the answers to your questions, you'll have to see the play," he said, with a sanctimonious nod of his head, Fritz readjusting his glasses importantly. She was still sitting on the floor, and his chair was still pushed a good few feet back, much to the annoyance of those at the table behind him, but he didn't particularly mind this.
"You could be your own Princess Irene," said Fritz, having no idea what she was talking about. "Make up your own story, right? That's how it works."
He glanced at the yarn and said, "Thank you for your continued support. What exactly are you making, anyway? This is a great deal of yarn."
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Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2016 10:43 pm
”Ha! I knew it,” Charlie turned to grin in triumph, her face still somewhat red, when the guy admitted that he was an actor and had a director and all that. She was still on the floor, trying to gather up the yarn, but looked over her shoulder to consider the guy who was probably much older than she was.
At least his face looked as though he needed a lot more sleep than what he got, which was probably due to the stress of being a starving actor. Which meant that he was probably early thirties, if the stress lines were any indication, despite his bright smile he’d flashed at her.
Or maybe it was the glasses that aged him a little. Who knew.
“What’s it called? I wouldn’t mind seeing it,” she said, doing her best to ignore the strange looks she was getting as she crawled under another table to untangle her yarn. “Sometimes I help with the threatre department at DCU. Sewing and stuff, at least. Is your play for a class or something?” Charlie wondered.
The thought of making up her own story was nice, but she shook her head after a wistful look crossed her features for a moment.
“I’m not really good with making up stories. And I’m definitely not cut out to be a princess,” she said with an awkward laugh. “Maybe a barmaid or seamstress or shoemaker or something. The person who gets to hear the heroes’ tales of adventure and excitement,” she offered in exchange.
As for what she was making, Charlie glanced down at the yarn in her hands once more and then back up at the freckle-faced man with the glasses. There was something off about his smile, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Maybe he was just acting.
“It’s for my fiber arts class,” she explained, “I’m working on an exhibition piece to represent the struggle between the importance of making sure fresh water is available to everyone and the human actions that put civilization and the planet at risk. I’ve only just started, so I don’t have much to show for it yet.”
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Posted: Sat Oct 01, 2016 7:08 pm
"The Trouble with Twins," said Fritz easily, flashing a serene smile at the girl. He still had his now lukewarm tea in his hand, which he lifted to take a sip of, the cup hiding the clear amusement in his face. He probably shouldn't be so mischievous to a stranger, but it had been a long few months of tiredness and pain. It was nice to sort of relax.
Even if she had called his accent terrible.
"It's for personal enjoyment," said Fritz seriously, taking another sip. "I'm not in school anymore, I graduated two years ago."
He gave a shrug of his shoulders, his leg bouncing a little as he jiggled his foot absently. Briefly, his thoughts went to Eliza; of the two of them flitting about the Surrounding back before everything had happened, making up grand stories about princesses and princes.
It felt like another lifetime ago.
"Not all the heroes who go on adventures are princesses or royalty," said Fritz mildly. He glanced down at the balls of tangled yarn around the girl's feet and raised an eyebrow.
"That's...quite a mouthful of an answer, I must admit. I was expecting you to say a pair of socks or a jumper or something."
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2017 9:18 am
”Ohh, wow you’ve already graduated? That sounds like fun, making up a play like that. Are you going to film it and put it on a blog or something? I’m no good with computers, otherwise I would try to post my art on a blog,” she prattled, carefully winding the untangled bits of yarn around and around to try and clean it up.
“Not all heroes, you’re right,” she nodded, “But normal people usually have to work and make a living, so their opportunities for adventures are limited. That’s probably why it’s usually royalty or knights or their friends who get to be the heroes in the stories. Or something like that.”
Charlie stared down at the mess of yarn in her hands and let out a defeated sigh, and then gathered it all up and shoved it back into her bag. There was no way she was going to be able to get everything untangled without being able to spread everything out. That, and she was sure she would have to wash out some coffee and crumbs it picked up from the floor.
“Well, Mr. Frederick, sorry to bother you during your tea time,” she emphasized, still obviously convinced that he was acting, or at least trying to. She didn’t say it out loud, but she didn’t think he would be up for any awards anytime soon with that accent. “It was nice to meet you and I hope your play goes well. I’ll keep an eye out for it if you do ever decide to put it online. I’m sure it’ll be great!” she said as she showed him a bright smile and stood to brush off her clothes and collect her things.
But before she turned to leave, she paused to give him one last piece of advice; “Just… keep practicing on your accent, okay? I mean, it’s good! Really! Just… I’m sure you can make it sound more authentic with practice.”
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