Logs:Accidentally Incidentally Aspirationally Prepared
| Accidentally Incidentally Aspirationally Prepared | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia | 2024-11-18 "You know, for when they get a new house that's less likely to be bombed." |
| Location
<XAV> Art Room - Xs Second Floor | |
Smells of paints and chalks and turpentine mingle freely in this room, well-used, well-stocked. Natural light flows in, plentiful through the large windows. The long counter-like tables are speckled with spots of color, and half finished projects often stand on easels or propped in corners. The many cupboards lining the walls are crammed full of art supplies. With no class in session the art room is quiet, though not deserted -- a couple of girls at one table armed with scissors and glue putting together a large modular origami sculpture; a boy with noise-cancelling headphones smearing great, drippy blobs of paint onto a canvas in one corner; Roscoe with a white lamp/desktop organizer that he's meticulously polka-dotting with a black Sharpie, one careful poke of felt-tip at a time. He has a red and green Sharpie on the table, too, along with two other black sharpies in case the first one runs out -- given how much of the lamp there is to go maybe this is necessary -- but there doesn't seem to be any particular method to his ~Art~ just yet. -- Spencer pops into existence just outside the art room, carrying a box of wooden discs, and walks inside like a normal, non-teleporting person. He's wearing Art Clothes -- a purple Chimaera Arts t-shirt over a soft black long sleeve shirt, beaten-up blue jeans, and black work boots, all chronically paint flecked though right now he smells more of sawdust than paint right now. He has a kippah styled like a circular slice of watermelon, and the box in his hands was definitely hand-made by someone who isn't great at woodworking. The contents of the box are much more polished than the box itself -- 4-inch slices of wood with varying shapes of live edge patterns. He ricochets gently around the room collecting supplies and sets them down on the opposite end of the table from Roscoe. "Hey," he says, laying out his discs in a plastic tray, though his hands slow as he watches Roscoe's. "Wow I would not have the patience to do that." Roscoe is not wearing Art Clothes -- light brown joggers, plain black t-shirt, no paint-flecks to be seen. He doesn't look up from his work at first, still carefully laying down his latest row of dots as he mumbles, "I'm real patient," before he glances up, tilts his head at Spence's project, shakes his hair down over his eyes like that will make it less obvious when he scans through it. "Coaster set?" he guesses. "This for class or -- oh, lol I guess probably not Christmas." "Oh good, they already look coastery! Coasterly...coasterous." Spence scrunches up his nose. Eyes his resin color options and picks out a translucent watery blue and an iridescent silver. "It's a housewarming present. Aspirationally. Anyway it's not a...Non-Specific Winter Happiness gift. It feels kinda more like...Hanukkah tier. Why?" He glances at Roscoe's markers. "Are you making a Christmas present?" "Well, when's the last time you saw someone make themself coasters?" says Roscoe; he's shifting in his seat, putting his elbows down on the table, grinning down at his lamp. "But, a very merry Non-Specific Winter Happiness to you, I guess --" he shifts on the stool so he's sitting on one foot, cranes his neck at the plastic tray. "This is just for me, I'm bored and I wanted to do something and I don't think I should be giving myself stick-pokes anymore and this dumb lamp is exactly like my roommate's, so." Shrug. His knee in front of him wags from side to side and he adds, "Who's the coasters for?" Spence grins, too, fierce and bright. "Thanks, I'm --" He shakes his head like he's trying to clear something away. "Try not. Do, or do not," he's muttering this not quite to himself, "there is no try." He mixes the blue and silver resin together. "It's even accidentally Hanukkah colors. Or do I mean incidentally. Accident, incident..." Shakes his head again. "It's for my parents. You know, for when they get a new house that's less likely to be bombed. I guess it's not too smart to pick something that might not actually go with the decor or whatever." Roscoe ticks a perplexed glance back up at Spence, at Sudden Yoda Quote, but he doesn't comment, gets quickly distracted anyway by the swirling resin, his eyes flitting open wider. "I wouldn't worry, blue and silver goes with everything," should Spence take any color theory advice from Roscoe, NO, but Roscoe is giving it freely anyway. "You're making the housewarming gift before they get the house? That is super prepared." Spence rotates the bowl as he's stirring so Roscoe can see the light reflect from the silver resin through the blue. "I wanted to make it look like water," he explains, "aspirationally. If they don't match the decor they could be like. Outside coasters." He squints at the mixture, then adds more blue. "That's a better way of thinking about it. Prepared. This is like. The third housewarming present I've gotten them, it almost feels like. Maybe I'm being judgemental or --" He blows out a long breath and stares down into his (still slightly too glittery) fake water. "I don't know. I'm overthinking it. Sometimes just making something helps, you know." Maybe that was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but he's looking at Roscoe's intricately dotted lamp again. "Even if you're not real patient." | |
