Logs:Twisted Thread
| Twisted Thread | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia | 2024-12-18 "Do you fight much with other students here?" |
| Location
<XAV> Workshop - XS Grounds | |
A large barn-like building situated at the far end of the gardens from the mansion proper, this makerspace functions as a classroom for many of the more hands-on classes. An expanse of workshop space, it is subdivided into smaller segments for the different types of activities: Woodshop, Welding shop, Machine shop, Electronics, Bike shop, Screen Printing and Photography, Fabric Arts, and the Rapid Prototyping Lab with a trio of 3D printers. The space comes complete with a large host of tools available for use, although many of the more dangerous require prior clearance from administration to use -- students with appropriate clearance to use them can gain access to locked equipment with their student IDs. From sanders to MIG/TIG welders to soldering stations to industrial sewing machines to its own darkroom, though, this space is well equipped for teaching students how to make. This afternoon, the sound of the 3D printer working does not quite drown out the pleasant sound of idle humming of the currently only occupant. They wear a funnel necked ribbed sweater in chocolate brown (warm enough at least to cut down the bit of chill in the air) and a pair of white ponte pants, a couple of pieces of jewelry set aside on the workbench for the crime of being too dangly for this labour. Their tablet is open to a croquis, the model in it seeming vaguely insectoid but lacking further distinctive features, with the clothes rendered in more elaborate detail. A few swatches of fabric are laid out before them, which seem like the main thing receiving consideration for the time being. There's another person slipping in, dressed considerably more blandly in carpenter jeans and a plain grey short-sleeved button-down. Bryce makes up for the drab outfit with the rest of his appearance -- vibrant red feathers crowning his head, soft thick red and white mask of fur on his face, large birdlike eyes nestled in there, long bat-ears; white fur white black rosette spots dotted down his arms, a long grey-furred tail coiling out behind him. He's got another pair of jeans, old but sturdy, draped over his arm, and is heading for the fabric section -- but stops short when he sees it occupied, long ears twitching. "Oh!" is what he says first, "Um --" and then, "Sorry, um. Oh hi." As a new occupant arrives in the workshop, Marinov's ears swivel in the direction of the entrance. When Bryce declares himself, their's eyes flick up from their project, and they blink long and slow before responding, "Oh, hey, no need for sorries. I was just getting some work done, but there's plenty of space if you've got a project you're working on." They evaluate the student's chimeric appearance with a quick gaze up and down and say, "You're Bryce, yeah? Allred?" Approvingly, they add, "I've got mad respect for anyone with good rosettes." "Allred," Bryce agrees, as if this is the most important part. He's looking up and down Marinov, ears slightly twitchy. "You're -- Mis..t.. Mx. Marinov?" He sounds hesitant, looks hesitant, isn't approaching any further. His fingers (longer and more simian than comes factory-standard) scrunch harder into his jeans. "I don't really have a project I just, um, most of my pants don't -- sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your -- work, s..." This trails off a little uncertainly. "Do you work here, now?" "Mx. Marinov works," says Marinov with a brief nod, "I'm sorta working here, yeah. I'm going to be on campus more. Still kind of getting myself situated, I guess, finishing up my fall and winter collection has my attention still split." They tilt their head slightly, "I also avail myself to do any alterations or style consultation for anyone who might want it, though sounds like you're pretty used to alterations yourself! Though if you ever want to just chat about what's going on at school..." They gesture vaguely with their pawlike hand, "I was a student here, too, not that long ago." This puts a quick smile on Bryce's face. His ears are shifting -- still floppy but less long, wrinkled down on his head like Avi's hefty bulldog's, now. "I'm pretty used to alterations," sounds very amused. The amusement fades; he rolls a shoulder, inches a little closer to eye the designs in front of Marinov. "School's just kind of -- school. How long ago were -- you here, did you know..." He hesitates, and trails off. His teeth press to his lip, eyes fixing on the croquis. "Are you teaching?" he asks instead. The ear shifting has Marinov's ears flick a couple of times as if they try to mirror the impossible movement being observed and they chuckle softly at Bryce's comment about alterations. "I'm not sure how qualified I would be to teach! Jax has the arts pretty well covered, and that's where I'd be able to provide the best insight." They expand the design on screen as Bryce looks at it so that the details are more apparent. "I guess I do. Business?" They look a bit skeptical at this idea. "What kinds of classes are popular nowadays, anyways?" "Mr. Jax is great at his arts but there's a lot of arts, right? Like Miss Mukhopadhyay does music and Miss Dirie does dance and sewing and Mister Horus does -- well, okay, that was a little bit of a situation, I guess." Bryce chews briefly on the inside of his cheek. "But arts is a lot of things. I think Mr. Jax's classes are popular, though, because he's really nice and kind of a superhero. He's been having a really tough year, though. I think a lot of teachers have." He looks down at his fingers as his sneakers roll to the side. "I like Mr. Summers's classes, but I don't think they're popular. People used to like Mr. Tessier's class but he didn't ever come back. I don't know if it's good to get attached, here." This sounds very matter-of-fact. "Yeah, Horus's credentials were more questionable than mine," says Marinov in an amused tone, "But you are right, yeah. There's lots of different arts. I liked Jax's classes, too, he is a really cool guy." They shrug and feel the fabric of one of the swatches, lidding their eyes a moment as they do so while listening to the description of the other teachers' classes that Bryce describes. "No? I guess it can be hard, when people are cycling out a fair bit, but even people you know for a little while can impart something great if you let them. Is there anyone you got attached to who you're missing that made you feel that way?" "He takes very good pictures though." This is only a little bit defensive, and a little bit more when Bryce adds, quieter: "And he's really nice." He shifts a little bit uncomfortably, and then shakes his head. "No, it's just. Kind of dangerous here, isn't it? I mean, a lot of the teachers have dangerous jobs, and the other kids can be dangerous, and --" He shrugs. "Being a mutant at all, I guess." Marinov gives a conciliatory nod at each of the two points about Horus, and then focuses their attention as Bryce speaks. "There's a fair bit of danger, yeah. I'm not gonna pretend that I'm not familiar with having those kinds of thoughts." They place the swatch down again. "And I've lost people, too... Seems to me that's all the more reason to get attached, yeah? Thread's'll break alone, but woven they get stronger." Bryce is quiet at this. His eyes fix on the swatch that Marinov has put down, his tail slowly swaying one direction and then the other behind him. "You'd definitely for sure know about the threads," he agrees cautiously, looking from the designs to the swatch. "But like. People aren't threads so much. Threads probably don't like. Fight each other? Oh gosh do they? I don't even know around here maybe we have weird mutant threads you have to deal with, I don't want to assume." A musical laugh escapes Marinov's mouth and they shake their head, "I've had threads fight with me, but not so much with each other, I'm glad to report. You're right, of course, braiding fibers is much simpler. People are..." They glance down to their tablet and the swatches and then makes a note on top of the sketch in neat cursive. Their tail twitches a couple of times as they consider this. "More complicated." They look towards the younger mutant, head tilted slightly. "Do you fight much with other students here?" "Oh, no, I -- not --" Bryce's tail twitches faster, and he hugs his jeans to his chest. "It's not like that, I just. Things used to be easier, I think. People were nicer at my old -- before I was -- I don't know. I'm really sorry, I'm making it sound worse than it is. I've met a lot of great people since coming to New York! I just wish more of them were like..." He shrugs, and grips the denim tight. "I'm sorry I'm still interrupting I'm gonna -- um. Do this -- tail bit -- later. It was -- nice to. Meet you. Mx. Marinov." Marinov reaches out in Bryce's direction, but does not make any motion to actually stop him from leaving, only offering a slow closing of their eyes. "Hey now, it's okay, it's no bother, Bryce. Really. I like the company, especially from another seamster." Their voice softens, "Going to a new place can be a lot, it makes sense to have mixed feelings. You're not wrong for having whatever feelings you're having." "I -- thank you." Bryce hesitates, his eyes squeezing slowly shut in return. And then, just, "Thank you," again. His tail lashes, quick and sharp, and then with one last flick as he turns, he's heading out. | |
