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Day 57: Arts and Crafts Room (third shift)

Jul 01, 2011 07:51

They hadn't handed him a cane this morning, and they'd been right. His knee was healing. It ached, but it held his weight. Going out to the greenhouse and standing on it for a few hours was a bad idea, though. If it gave out on him tonight, what would he say. "Sorry, dudes, a bunch of tomatoes were more important. Like actual tomatoes." That ( Read more... )

trickster, s.t., erika, gamzee, rose lalonde, peter parker

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mirthfulness July 2 2011, 01:46:10 UTC

Gamzee wasn't usually the sort to be easily irritated by things, but at the moment he was finding a wet rag to the face very displeasing. The troll had jumped at the opportunity to go to arts and crafts, where there was apparently plenty of paint to be had, but he'd hardly gotten the base coat of his clown design on before he'd been faced with an admonishing nurse and had the paints confiscated. She was dabbing the last bits of it off his face now as he scowled ( ... )

lovecrafty July 2 2011, 02:21:40 UTC

It seemed she needn't have spent her meager pittance on equipping herself ( ... )

mirthfulness July 2 2011, 06:24:31 UTC

"I figured paint was the best the motherfuckers got." The troll didn't seem too down from that little upset, but his religion was a rather important thing to him, and if anything could put him in a bad mood it was being denied the ability to do what little he did to follow that cult. At least the conversation from the chapel had started his day off right.

He shook his head at the question, tapping the paper with one of his crayons. "It ain't really troll society what's followin' clowns, sis." Speaking of the conversation from the chapel, as fascinating as it had been he wasn't sure he wanted to keep repeating it. "It's kind of an obscure follwin'. None of the others in our group all had the same motherfuckin' interest."

Which was a shame, seeing as he'd like them to be able to come along to the Dark Carnival as well.

Rose's own choice in craft distracted him, and he found himself watching the yarn become something else in her hands. How was she even doing that? Such a miracle that was. "Shit, those are some pretty wicked

lovecrafty July 3 2011, 01:56:01 UTC

That wasn't exactly an answer. Rose's own interests were far from mainstream. Take dubious zoology, for example -- was this the chink of grimdark notlight to seep across over the universal divide, pointing the way to a collective terror? Had she found a point of synchronicity between sessions, or was this another false mirage?

"Yes. The denizens of the deep fear the metronomic assault of my weapon of mass affection. It is difficult to look forbidding while wearing pink tentacle cozies." Maybe she should make Lily a scarf. She'd seemed so startled by the lack of a collar.

"Do you see them in your dreams? Does their laughter cocoon you like an absurd blanket, swaddling you in hilarity and mirth?" Trolls had to have dreams, didn't they?

mirthfulness July 3 2011, 03:42:32 UTC

"Whoa... How'd you all motherfuckin' know?" He didn't always dream, or at least he didn't remember if he did thanks to the overabundance of sopor in and around him, but when he did they did involve clowns quite often. They were just such a large part of his life that it would be surprising if they didn't, but as far as he was concerned the fact that Rose guessed that put her up on soothsayer level.

Even if he didn't understand half of what she said most of the time. Drawings ignored, he continued to watch her work. Was she saying she could make weapons out of the string there? That would be incredibly useful, not to mention miraculous. He wouldn't be able to do anything with his drawings aside from maybe decorating his room with them.

"What all can you make?" And could she make something for him? Because that looked really fun and soft.

lovecrafty July 5 2011, 02:04:51 UTC

"I know many things. It is one of my magical powers." She managed to say that with a completely straight face. It was easier over Pesterchum, but she could always use the practice. After all:

With great power comes great responsibility.
-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow [1][2]

The question of what she could make would take a delicate answer. She'd only started learning a few months ago, and even several months of dedicated study weren't going to teach even the swiftest student every nuance. Flat things were easiest. She had an entire pile of practice scarves in her room. Covers, blankets, nooses. Things that had arms were tougher, even when following a pattern. "Lots of things. Would you like to learn?"

mirthfulness July 5 2011, 20:26:04 UTC

"Whoa." Rose might not have been serious, but Gamzee easily took her at her word. The troll believed in miracles, after all. There was no reason in his mind why the human girl couldn't know as much as she let on. "Do you all know like... what I'm motherfuckin' gonna eat for dinner and shit?" Never mind that he was going to be eating the same thing everyone else in the Institute would be eating.

He leaned closer to watch her work. It seemed complicated, and when she offered to teach him he could only blink dumbfoundedly at first. There was no way he could ever be coordinated enough to put something like that together. It would come out a complete mess. "You really think you could show me how?"

lovecrafty July 6 2011, 02:03:42 UTC

She didn't need sight to answer that question, aside from the mundane vision required to pick up a skein of yarn in the appropriate shade of pink and shake it so some of it unraveled in front of him.

"I don't see why not. You might not be able to weaponize them, due to the restrictions we labor under, but one scarf of maternal affection should be well within your capabilities."

Oops. That wasn't the kind of thing she wanted to think about her mother doing, not even in the service of elocutionary retribution. She picked up a larger gauge of needles, and handed them to Gamzee. "Pick a color, and we'll get started."

mirthfulness July 6 2011, 18:23:48 UTC

Only one color? How restricting. Gamzee picked through the yarn and, with a grin, pulled out a roll that was dyed rainbow, the color changing as the yarn was pulled out. How anyone could pick any other plain variety was beyond him. Hopefully this was acceptable, even if she had told him to pick a single color.

How he was supposed to use those little sticks to make anything with it was beyond him, though. It looked like she was just clicking them together and it was making itself, all magic like. Not that he wouldn't believe her if she said that was what was actually happening. Rose was something of a miracle worker, as he was coming to appreciate.

Why hadn't he trolled her before now?

lovecrafty July 7 2011, 02:25:05 UTC

The restriction hadn't meant to crimp his style, which was apparently as lacking in restraint as his vocabulary was variation in obscenities. Merely that multiple strands was something to climb towards.

She picked up a second set of needles, and the pink yarn she'd used as demonstration, and looped it slowly around into a slip knot. "You start like this." She slid the knot over the needle. Then she tugged it free and repeated the process, more slowly.

Then she did something complicated, and there were two loops. Three. Four. She slid the needles out again and pulled it back into a heap of yarn. "Any questions?"

mirthfulness July 9 2011, 09:16:41 UTC

"Uh..."

He'd almost been following there for a moment. For that whole first loop he'd been totally there. After that, however, he was left sitting and staring with a knitting needle in hand as his mind tried to backtrack over the steps before it. And that was going absolutely nowhere.

"I don't think I up and all got any of that shit right there, sis. Can you all like... do that whole motherfucker over in slow motion?" Really, really slow motion. Preferably repeated several times. he just needed to focus a little harder, that was all. After the first few steps it looked like you just did the same steps over and over. He could do that.

lovecrafty July 12 2011, 02:09:21 UTC

The corners of her mouth bobbed upwards, buoyed on the equal tides of egotism and altruism. "Of course." That was, after all, why she'd unraveled her progress as soon as it had been made.

She moved slowly, making the loops larger than they needed to be, until she'd made two dozen stitches. "This is a good length." Her grin did not grow in the slightest, except in the confines of her own mind. "For killing ogres and netting the grist, or for a scarf." She added a second row, still moving at glacial speed.

"Do trolls have hobbies?"

mirthfulness July 15 2011, 05:21:07 UTC

"Of course we got those! Every motherfucker's gotta have somethin' to do." Ans since they were all basically the equivalent of thirteen in human years that didn't equate to having a job. "I like chillin' in my horn pile and tryin' to ride my motherfuckin' one-wheeled device, exceptin' that one's always buckin' me the motherfuck off." It was a crazed beast, that device. Also he lacked any sense of balance.

He was still trying to follow her movements, looping together a mess of yarn that might have almost been something. Almost, but not really. He wasn't going to be making scarves for all his friends any time soon (and they'd probably be grateful for that anyway).

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