Expositors Incorpor8ed

Closed RP blog for Skaia University. Aranea Serket, age 21, Library Science. (8ig surprise there, right?)

[balefulpolyglot]

An Ill Advised Date

[balefulpolyglot]

"Well, creativity doesn’t count for everything, and with classes being what they are I haven’t exactly had a whole world of time for personal projects…I can’t say that I’m entirely PLEASED with what I’m producing for school, at least, not enough to WEAR it, y’know?"

She tilted her head a little with a smile, as if this wasn’t something Aranea had heard a dozen times. Porrim with some frequency went on about ‘expression of self’ when it came to appearances and what someone wore, both as clothes and on their skin. It was one of the reasons her tattoo went as yet unfinished. That combined with lack of funds and that Porrim wanted to have some connection with the person inking her. Things like that mattered to her, after all.

She nearly choked on her drink when Aranea started to talk about…that. She managed to keep her composure through what she was very certain didn’t seem at ALL like a sneeze, but which she desperately tried to play off as one before smiling a genuine smile, leaning forward a bit without thinking(though it was to advantage) and pretending as if she hadn’t heard the little slip.

"I’m happy to talk about whatever interests you dear." FUCK "You’re always so animated on topics of your interest it’s hard not to be infected by that interest." SHUT UP PORRIM "Anyway, it’s mostly been class and parties for me. You know how I do like to mingle on weekends and such."

[articulategrisette]

She didn't seem to have noticed Porrim's sudden lack of composure, or at least didn't see it for what it was. "Ah, à tes souhaits. I know you prefer look over function, Porrim, but you really ought to dress a little warmer when the weather is getting cold like this... I could make you a new scarf if you like. I haven't found any nice yarn shops near the campus yet but I'm sure the fibers kids could point me in the right direction."

She beams, hands down and shoulders a bit high, but the expression is genuinely pleased. "Or, of course, there's always Wam^Lart's craft section~"

Aranea waits for Porrim's insulted reaction, laughing easily. It wasn't that she wasn't dwelling on her slip-- Boy, was she ever. But if she had learned ANYTHING from Vivienne Serket, it was that when your opponent let you get away with a slip, you ran from it as far and fast as you could. She was willing to embrace her mother's tactics for once if it lead to a happier lunch date with her estranged infatuation.

...Lunch date.

Aranea don't you fucking DARE. It's not a date. It's not even a girls who are friends having a lunch date, date. It's just a meeting. It's a brunch. It's a get-together. Stop it

She swallows a bit thickly as Porrim leans forwards her, smiling sheepishly as she starts to bite her straw. "Me? Oh, goodness, you know I haven't been doing anything interesting! I mean, I've got a job this time around-- There's this wonderful bookshop a few blocks up, near the train station? It's so wonderful, they've got little reading nooks in all the corners and you can exchange books for other books or for store credit--" Well done Porrim, you've set her off on the first of any NUMBER of subjects 'book store' could carry her through, chattering animatedly and beaming.

[articulategrisette]

((While I'm working on a post, here's a quick guide to Aranea's outfits throughout the year!))

 - Summer

 - Winter

 - Spring

 - Autumn

[articulategrisette]

Snow

There wasn't a student alive that didn't love snow days. Kindergarten to highschool to grad students, smiles broke out on faces of all ages when the name they were waiting for popped up on the closings pages, and despite her love of learning, Aranea was no exception.

It wasn't even limited to snow days. She just plain loved winter. She could wear as many layers as she wanted, keep all her skin covered up, and not a single person would call her a prude or question it. It was cold out, after all. If she even left the house at all. Despite her pathological love for information, she used to crave snow days like any other, just so that she didn't have to spend her morning steeling herself for the daily ordeal of being around other people. Other people who didn't like her, who didn't care about her, who's emotions she simply couldn't deal with.

Another reason she liked her winter clothing so much...

She could stay home and read and simply not be bothered, or stomp into her bright red boots and tromp out into the snow for a walk.

So few people took walks during the snowfall. She loved it. Just the gentle susurrus of the snow coming down around her and the shuffle or crunch of it under her shoes. So much more pleasant than the hot itch on the back of her neck that was the emotional undercurrent of a classroom.

College was a little better. She loved Skaia more than she could describe. Even better than being freed from classrooms, it was so easy to walk across the campus and into town, find her way to Meenah's apartment and take refuge from the weather with the only person who could make a day like that even better.

Snow days were the best.

[balefulpolyglot]

An Ill Advised Date

[balefulpolyglot]

Seeing Aranea, she was somewhat smacked in the face with the fact that she may have dressed inappropriately. She had resigned herself to the fact that she’d asked her ex out on a date, but being that she was, of course, an absolute idiot, she’d worn what she would have on any normal date. Which meant that while she wasn’t entirely at her peak as far as ‘seduction’ was concerned, she definitely had it at a 7 or an 8, which was far higher than ‘ex that she NEEDED to keep an ex’ would warrant.

Still, she smiled when the girl arrived and the smile was, more than anything else, genuine. Her company was pleasant, and she was absolutely lovely in her chosen outfit. Contrast and counterpoint to Porrim herself, and she had to put effort to keep her eyes from twinkling at the girl. She wasn’t sure if she succeeded.

"Nothing I made for myself this time, unfortunately, but I’m between projects, and working space, at the moment. Roommate shenanigans, shuffling of students at all. And as to waiting…"

She shifted, glancing pointedly down at her watch before looking back to Aranea with a smirk twisting black painted lips, “You’re early, you couldn’t have kept me waiting, dear.”

An inward flinch, not visible on the surface. Porrim was usually so tidy with her words, too.

[articulategrisette]

If Aranea thought it inappropriate, she kept it to herself, smiling brightly and fiddling with the ends of her hair. It's a bad habit, she knows, but she still periodically tucks it all behind her metal-studded ears, only to shake it all loose a few moments later. It was simply too thick to stay back unless kept still, and even then, it was arguable... Not that she's musing about her HAIR right now, given that Porrim's got an awful lot of leg out for show and-- No! Aranea Serket you stop that immediately, behave yourself. Think about work. Think about Meenah.

Sighing with relief as she's told she hadn't kept Porrim waiting, she still lets out a nervous little twitter and smooths her skirt, whether because of the comment or having caught that 'dear' at the end. Talking came easier than normal, immediately.

"Oh, no? That's a shame, your designs are always so creative. I still remember that dress you made for Meenah a few years back, the one with the tentacle streamers for the skirt? It took her almost a week to figure out it was supposed to look like a squid," she says, chuckling. There, that was much better. Meenah was always a safe topic to pick when she needed to keep herself in check. "Actually, she started doing this thing for formal events... Every time she found out she had to wear a dress, she would just sigh like the event had been organized to inconvenience her personally..."

She pauses briefly when the waitress comes by to ask for a lemonade, then fiddles with the straw, stirring it as she smiles and talks. "Then once she'd settled down, she would always say things like, "They've left me with no choice, Serks. Looks like it's time to RELEASE THE KRAKEN."" Even though she'd surely told the story a hundred times before, she still chuckles at it herself, head cocked.

"Sorry, I suppose it's not Meenah you wanted to talk about today... She hasn't really changed much since--"

There's a beat.

"Well, since ever." YES. SMOOTH RECOVERY, SERKET. "How about you? What have you been up to, besides the obvious with school?"

[teetotalgnostalgic-deactivated2]

==> Fever

[teetotalgnostalgic-deactivated2]

The soft palate at the back of her mouth was swollen and painful, her face was on fire and she could barely process information, but no disease gets the better of Meenah Peixes, so instead of doing anything like retreating, she stumbled further into the room, bleary eyed and radiating heat.

"The fuck is this? Some sort of… some sort of chemical show?"

Wait, someone was talking to her. Her neck hurt, but she turned to face who it was slowly, as if her head was in syrup. Aranea! Of all the places to find her. It always seemed to be the case that when she went looking for her, she couldn’t be found, and when she wasn’t, she’d stumble across her. It made perfect sense she’d be here today.

"There you are! I been lookin all the fuck over. Why are you here? This is meant to be my class. Make it my class."

[articulategrisette]

Aranea strips off her gloves as Meenah leans against her, concern plain on her usually placid face. She presses cool, powder scented hands to Menah's feverish cheeks, then to her throat, thumbs barely pressing into the flesh as she automatically assesses the damage. Clucking her tongue in sympathy, she comes around to Meenah's front to put both arms around her neck and cradle her against her own pale sweater.

"Oh, Meenah..." she mutters, and there's a lot said in just her tone of voice. "You're always so stubborn, why on earth did you get out of bed this morning? Honestly, what am I going to do with you? You could have gotten yourself into god knows what-- Huh? Oh, actually I was surprised to see you WEREN'T in this class. It really is wonderful, Meenah, we've been talking about energy consumption and setting things on fire! For science!"

It's obvious that she catches herself right before she can go into a full rant, and instead strokes Meenah's hair as she turns to tell the teacher she has to go-- Loathe as she is to miss out on education, she's not about to leave Meenah alone in such a state. She's seen her BFF(which she had the necklace to prove) so seldom lately, she's absolutely not going to miss out on a chance to baby her a little.

"Come on, Meenah, let's find you somewhere to lay down..."

Giving her a gentle push, Aranea tries to coax her ornery, delirious friend out the door and down the hall, running over options in her mind. Should she take Meenah home? Her dorm was closer, but the Health Center would be the most efficient place to go...

[balefulpolyglot]

An Ill Advised Date

Porrim sat kicking her feet a little bit, having worn a knee length dress that clung to her frame and, if she was being honest, made her look a little saucier than was really appropriate for a lunch date between friends. She was rapidly losing control of herself regarding the Aranea situation, and she was sure even the waitress noticed her biting her straw, even if the woman had no idea that that was anything out of the ordinary. Her red shoes clicked together occasionally, but no ruby slippers could rescue her from the world of bullshit that her feelings had become.

Nervous, so she was early. That and she had nothing else to do so she was nursing a soda while waiting for Aranea to show, and hoping she wouldn’t say anything else unspeakably stupid in the process

[articulategrisette]

The subject of the situation in question wasn't quite SO early, but she was definitely one of those people who thought she was late if she wasn't at least a little early. So, ten minutes in advance it was. She checked her watch anxiously as she approached, dressed a bit more conservatively than usual... Her long, dark skirt swirls around her ankles, and her peasant blouse was the usual deep blue she favored, so between the two there wasn't much more than collarbone and neck to be seen.

There's a flash of unmasked surprise across her face as she spots Porrim already there waiting for her, her recently painted nails digging into the cover of the book she habitually carried, but it's overtaken by a smile a moment later and she half-jogs the last few yards to the table.

"Hi!" she says, perhaps a bit too brightly, then fussily tucks her own hair behind her ears to hide her embarrassment. "I mean, uh, hello Porrim. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." She hangs her bag on the back of the chair, smoothing her skirt to take a seat and keeping the book, as always, in her lap.

"That, ah, that's a lovely dress; Not that any of your clothes ever AREN'T lovely, 8ut, you know what I mean..."

[teetotalgnostalgic-deactivated2]

==> Fever

Meenah felt awful, like she had been beaten up underwater. Her head swam, as she stumbled through the halls of the university, half-mad as her body fought off infection, chest and throat burning. But rest and respite were for the weak, and she’d rather be dipped in acid than miss class. You don’t stay at the top by taking days off.

It was this line of thinking that led Meenah to her current situation, weaving a rollercoaster of a line around the campus to what she was sure was her lecture hall, as fragments of thought raced in semi-circles around her brain without stopping. Now there was a door in front of her, and she managed to give the impression of falling through it while remaining upright. She blinked glassily and looked around. This wasn’t her lecture hall.

[articulategrisette]

Today was having a token improvement on the rest of her week. There had been no little accidents, no fateful meetings, and she hadn't been late for a single class after that first one. She wasn't getting a lot of homework, which she considered kind of a waste, but it meant she'd have plenty of time to catch up on her personal reading instead. (And, trying to summon some sympathy for those with social lives, Aranea imagined that her classmates would be grateful for the lack.)

Still, she was hoping this lab at least would offer her something more substantial to do with her time. Sure, she didn't even remotely have to take any chemistry classes for her masters, but how was one to pass up a class that amounted to 'what catches fire best and why 101'? You weren't, that's how.

When the door crashes open, half the class jumps, but she doesn't look up immediately, currently twisting a cheese curl over a Bunsen burner and focusing on her task until she hears someone make a comment. "Wow, she looks dead on her feet." "Is that girl even IN this class...?"

Aranea turns, finally, lifting the safety goggles away from her glasses to get a better look, and-- Oh god. That's Meenah. She SQUEAKS and drops the flaming cheese doodle, dashing over to throw her arms around her shoulders, lest her best friend make a sudden decision to embrace gravity in her delirium. "Meenah!? What in heavens name are you doing here, your morning lecture started twenty minutes ago-- ...Are you alright?"

[balefulpolyglot]

A F8ted Encounter

[articulategrisette]

"Oh no, no, that’s not too soon at all. Saturday sounds fine to me. I’m not working that day and there’s no homework or studying I’ve got scheduled that can’t be pushed back a bit. Won’t my roommate be surprised to see me out and about for something beside books for once?" She laughs a little, just an amused little scoff as she pokes fun at herself in the hopes of making Porrim smile. "I haven’t actually 8een there yet, 8ut I’ve heard good things from my classmates now and then. It sounds fun, what time would you like to meet up?"

Aranea’s endlessly grateful that Porrim either doesn’t notice, or is ignoring, her faltering behavior. She’s not usually such a wreck, and she hopes she gets some equilibrium back by their next encounter, or else the entire thing promises to be thoroughly humiliating.

…

She really hopes Porrim isn’t doing this TO humiliate her. The girl knew how to hold a grudge but surely she would never do something so cruel to HER…

[balefulpolyglot]

Porrim had, (un)luckily already done what was likely the cruelest act of kindness she ever would to the Serket girl. And now she was waxing poetic about it in her own head, nice. She gives a smile, and tries her best not to look forward to the drink with her. She was, in spite of all of this, happy to be seeing and talking to Nea again. Which was really, really bad and she seriously had to cut it out, but…well, if it was going to happen why not at least enjoy it, and go back to keeping her at arm’s reach afterwards?

That way lied disaster, and she knew it. Like a slow motion train-wreck, she swore to herself.

"Haha, look at you. You’re smarter than anyone, y’know. And not just cause of all the book stuff, that’s just diligence, one of your other myriad good features, but you really are brilliant. Half-twelve for lunch?"

…Fuck

[articulategrisette]

Aranea's feelings, on the other hand, were nothing short of vibrantly happy. Porrim was the only person who came close to rivaling Meenah's heights in her books-- And though she would never admit it, she sometimes liked Porrim's company better, since she at least MOSTLY listened to Aranea's stories.

The opportunity for lunch with her was an unexpected thrill. She was still hurting, of course, who wouldn't be after what had happened? But she almost always forgave easily... Though this wasn't really a case of forgiveness.

"Oh, stop it...," she demurs, pulling at a lock of hair and blushing as she drops her gaze. "Now you're just being ridiculous, surely I've done nothing in the past ten minutes that merits such flattery... Unless, perhaps, you're buttering me up to pay for that lunch~"

Laughing, Aranea hides her face in her books to stifle the sound. "Yes, that sounds good to me. I'll meet you there. And also, thank you."

[ghastlycharm]

Terezi ==> Move In

[ghastlycharm]

Stupid sheets. It wasn’t like she wasn’t totally a connoisseur of making beds, she mad her own bed at home all the time, but this one was a different shape and the sheets were new and not broken in and she was having a decidedly difficult time getting this thing on the mattress right. 

Flopping back on the bed in temporary defeat, she smiled. “Find me a kid who isn’t a Lisa Frank fan. But these sheets are new, actually. They’re pretty rad, though, right?” She rolled over on her stomach and made a weak attempt at finding the right corner of the sheet. “God, sure, these things are awful.”

[articulategrisette]

"Ahh, fair enough. I never had any of the merchandise, myself, but a great deal of the children in my neighborhood did, and I admired it when I saw it in stores... Used to give me a bit of a headache though, my eye was rather weaker when I was young." Aranea taps the left side of her head for emphasis, though a moment later she wonders if Terezi will have noticed. It's hard NOT to notice how alien looking her left eye is, once you're close enough to see it.

When Terezi accepts her help, Aranea's grin is of glee and relief, and she swoops right in to take the opposite corners and help get the sheet in the right directions, then jimmy the mattress up on her shoulder. "Here, pull it on while I hold it up-- They are certainly vivid! I bet they'd look fantastic under a blacklight. Hm, these beds are kind of oddly long, aren't they? I wonder why that is. College dorms having oddly long Twin beds, I mean. You'd think it would be easier to just have the regular size, but--"

Teamwork and Aranea's willingness to just hoist up the mattress make simple work of getting the sheets on, but Terezi may end up regretting inviting her into such close quarters...

[balefulpolyglot]

A F8ted Encounter

[balefulpolyglot]

Right now would be fantastic. We could grab coffee and I could hold your hand and we could talk like it’s high school again and everything is fine, and we could giggle and press our cheeks together in favor of making anyone complain by actually daring to kiss in the halls. What had started as sarcastic self-berating had gone a little too far into self-destructive fantasy in Porrim’s mind and she had to shake herself internally again. Lunch was an awful idea, but there was no backing out now.

"Well, Saturday I have the day off, we could hit up that cute coffee shop just down the block from the dorms and see if they’re any good for lunch. Or is that too soon?"

Porrim is doing her very best to pretend not to notice any of the myriad small things wrong with the way Aranea stood or reacted. She was sure she was being every bit as obvious, but they were both trapped together in this dance, neither with the tiniest inclination to be rude to the other and both already quite thoroughly hurt by Porrim’s past behavior. She was going to turn this into a train wreck a second time, the elder Maryam could just FEEL it

[articulategrisette]

"Oh no, no, that's not too soon at all. Saturday sounds fine to me. I'm not working that day and there's no homework or studying I've got scheduled that can't be pushed back a bit. Won't my roommate be surprised to see me out and about for something beside books for once?" She laughs a little, just an amused little scoff as she pokes fun at herself in the hopes of making Porrim smile. "I haven't actually 8een there yet, 8ut I've heard good things from my classmates now and then. It sounds fun, what time would you like to meet up?"

Aranea's endlessly grateful that Porrim either doesn't notice, or is ignoring, her faltering behavior. She's not usually such a wreck, and she hopes she gets some equilibrium back by their next encounter, or else the entire thing promises to be thoroughly humiliating.

...

She really hopes Porrim isn't doing this TO humiliate her. The girl knew how to hold a grudge but surely she would never do something so cruel to HER...

[balefulpolyglot]

A F8ted Encounter

[balefulpolyglot]

Porrim gives a genuine laugh, no posturing or anything of the sort, and has to force herself inwardly not to get too comfortable. Like slapping yourself when you’re falling asleep, only in her case, she was feeling herself slipping back into familiar habits. She was a generally ‘close’ person, and keeping her distance from Aranea PHYSICALLY was hard enough without relaxing and accidentally doing something stupid.

Aside from the BRILLIANCE that was asking her out to lunch. Fuck. Well, sleep in the bed you make Porrim. She almost visibly winced at her own poor mental word choice. Whelp.

"I uh, I do still have your number, actually." Lies, technically. Deleted from her phone to eliminate accidents or poor choices. But she DID still have it memorized, since she can’t exactly scrub her own memory clean. "Your screen name is so apt, especially now given your newly employed status, I could figure it out even if I had forgotten it." She barely kept from wincing again at that. STUPID Porrim, the longer you talk to her the more likely you are to make more mistakes like that, but you already offered lunch to catch up, and you couldn’t SURVIVE disappointing her again after…

The comment about her friend was something to latch onto. A floating, partially ruined door in the icy ocean. She managed a slightly airy smile, making a twirling motion with artfully painted fingers, “Ah, toujours le requin obstiné, eh? Le plus qui change le plus qui reste le même”

[articulategrisette]

Visibly brightening like a puppy who's spotted a treat, Aranea has to tamp down the reaction right away, hooking a wicked canine into her lip as she looks away. She lets out a little cough, then a moment later the smile is back again, but simply 'pleased' this time.

"Oh good, I wasn't sure. I never delete a number myself, you never know when you're going to need it or need to know who's calling YOU, you know?" Unlike Porrim, that was a full truth. Aranea hated to lose knowledge of any kind, even seemingly inconsequential phone numbers.

Aranea had a BIG address book.

The comment makes her roll her eyes, and the restraint with which she keeps herself from face palming is obvious in every line of her body.

"Mmhm-- Call me Pollyanna, but I'll always see the good in her despite... well. Her. Is there anywhere particular you wanted to meet up? Or anywhen? I joke about the ball and chain, but really, my schedule is quite flexible." Lie. She hated rescheduling things. "So perhaps not IMMEDIATELY-- I uh. I'm honestly having kind of a DAY, today, which I only just remembered. But tomorrow or after would be..."

A heavy pause ensues, where she forgets to keep up the amiable smile and instead her gaze is faraway. She snaps back a second later. "...Fantastic."

[balefulpolyglot]

A F8ted Encounter

[balefulpolyglot]

Porrim probably could have recognized mechanical reactions, if she weren’t so busy making sure she didn’t glance at her fingernails more often than she should, or that she didn’t look bored shifting on her feet but also wasn’t standing stock still like a deer in the headlights. Though, that sort of described her and her increasingly out of control reactions.

"Well, you do know me so well." Porrim you’re an idiot. "But I’ve got to make sure I see what everyone else has done, so I can be absolutely certain I don’t do any of it a second time. If I’m not a rarity, I do a disservice to everyone."

You give a genuine smile, until you’re done speaking, and your eyes are on your ex. You had a lot of them, but you didn’t exactly pine like you did for her. Different circumstances, and a much sorer wound.

"That would be wonderful. Coffee or lunch or something?"

No, Porrim, it wouldn’t be wonderful, it would be awful. Sitting through a whole lunch of pretending you still aren’t into your ex who you absolutely CANNOT date sounds like a punishment reserved for people who talk in theaters.

"If you can get away from the books long enough."

[articulategrisette]

"Ahhh, I see." Aranea can't help but be reminded of those cartoon ponies she's been seeing around, with that comment, and it's hard not to say something about a particularly Porrim-like pony who had that very word as her name. But she knew her own deflecting habits when she saw them, and stomped it down as hard as she could.

'Sore' was definitely a word one could use to describe both their feelings on this matter. It hadn't been a good situation, but those seem par for the course with Aranea's social connections, so she doesn't even question it.

"If you'll forgive the predictability of it all, I actually do work at a book store, so that's a legitimate statement to make. It's become less of a hobby and more of, 'my life is the bibliophile singularity,' at this point." She rolls her funny-looking eyes, then turns her bright smile back on Porrim. "But to actually answer the question, absolutely. That would be fantastic. Do you still have my number...?"

She tries not to wince at her own question.

"I, uh, my screen name is still the same if you don't, e-mail... I can never really be bothered to change all that stuff, you know, it seems silly to do so. Besides, a certain somebody gets huffy if I dare make her remember new handles."

[balefulpolyglot]

A F8ted Encounter

[balefulpolyglot]

Her excited speaking was…something else. Porrim realized full force how much she’d missed it, and immediately pushed those feelings to arm’s reach, bathing willingly in the wash of painful self-recrimination that came. It was distracting, and necessary. A scourge to keep her from making some sort of awful mistake.

Instead, she smiled a winning sort of smile, showing off teeth and dark lips, and nodded, “Yeah, I’m taking fashion design and a couple cool art secondaries myself…”

She drops a joke she almost made because while Aranea had approved of bad pervy puns when they dated, there was nothing to indicate she would after. Porrim had. Sort of unilaterally broken up with her

"No time for anything except whatever bullshit Meenah is pulling you into, that is. And I might make it a habit to actively seek you out now that you’re here, of course."

No, STUPID Porrim, first off, that was a lie, and second…well, second it HAD to be a lie, since if it wasn’t…well, that didn’t bear thinking about at all

[articulategrisette]

Aranea traces a little circle on her book with a polished fingernail, an expression of pleasant interest on her face, but internally she's got a vice-grip on her own breathing.

In and out, in and out, quirk your smile a little. Tilt your head. Tuck your hair behind your ear. Be natural.

Cocking her head a little to the side, she laughs a little, sweeping some of her pale hair out of her eyes. "Well, color me shocked. Porrim Maryam, artistic soul of the century, taking organized classes on the subject? Mind that the institution doesn't stifle your juices, my friend."

The comment makes her stop, eyebrows shooting up in surprise, but she beams a half-second later, hugging her books tighter to her chest.

"She's as steamed as a clam that I wouldn't room with her, so of course she drags me into every mess she can find. I would like that, though. Seeing you more, I mean. It's been a while. We should have a proper chat sometime, I can tell you just what she's been digging up for me to sort out."

STUPID STUPID DUMB

[balefulpolyglot]

A F8ted Encounter

[balefulpolyglot]

"Oh, sorry dear, I didn’t see you…oh."

She was very rarely caught off guard, and even rarer still were situations where Porrim Maryam didn’t at least pretend like she still had control of herself, or the situation she was in. So that made the little ‘oh’ she made, a sound choked down at the back of her throat, and those moments where she just stood, staring and taking in Aranea’s features, all the more uncommon. And, in spite of her best efforts, incredibly intimate.

She brought herself back together moments later, fluttering in her chest or no, and pushed the voice in the corner of her mind back into it’s chair and firmly replaced it’s ‘DUNCE’ cap. She righted herself, involving a visible adjustment of her shirt, and picked up the book Aranea dropped, glancing at the title before offering it to her, putting on a smile that was a little less believable than usual, and trying to salvage some composure.

"Hey Nea, I didn’t know you went here too. How have things been?"

Keep smiling. Deep breaths, but not too deep. You have a whole bunch of exes. No reason running into one is that big a deal. Except you adamantly refuse to run into any of them if you can in the LEAST avoid it, and of all of them, it had to be her. You hope she’s as shaken as you are, at least, so maybe she doesn’t notice how much seeing her affected you, and that wish made you feel guilty all over again.

[articulategrisette]

The twittering little laugh Aranea lets out can't be mistaken as anything BUT nervous, so it seems Porrim got her wish. She's primly tucking her hair behind her ears a moment later, having to switch her books from one arm to the other to do so, and smiling brightly over the stack. There's only a slight moment of hesitation before she takes the book back, settling it neatly into her arms with the rest of them.

"Ahah, ah, y-yes! I'm working on my degree this time around, they have a wonderful library science program here. It's rather incredible, the amount of specialized career education that one school can offer. Still, Skaia's an awfully large place. I suppose that's why we didn't run into one another sooner. I mean, I hardly even see Meenah around sometimes, and she actively seeks my company. N-not that we're not friends, of course, I just mean it in terms of... Well. You know how Meenah is. You've met, I think? Or is it just that I tell so many stories about her I forget who was actually there...?"

Classic Aranea self-defense: start blabbering about nothing until you get your composure back. She's just an ex-girlfriend, Aranea, nothing to panic about. Sure it ended badly but you can still be friends. It's Porrim. You -adore- Porrim. Just breathe, act natural... It seems to have done the trick, since by the end of it she's not shuffling constantly to keep the books balanced, or otherwise fidgeting. In fact, she looks downright at ease.

"A-anyway yes! Um. I've been fine, thank you. You know me, study study study, no time for anything else, haha..."

[balefulpolyglot]

A F8ted Encounter

Porrim was rarely, if ever, late. This is, of course, by her own scale. If class started at 10:00 and she showed at 10:15, she did so on purpose, and for some reason or another. Be it to prove a point or because she simply did not want to be there until that time. As a result of this careful bit of planning, and the fact that she’d no intention of showing up to this particular math lecture, she the tallish girl’s path today ended up taking her, through early afternoon, down a side hall in one of the wings of the school frequently used by the fashion design students. After all, if she was going to skip a class irrelevant to her degree, may as well use the time to get more work done towards aforementioned degree.

Today was a dress day, so her legs we on display as she wore an ankle length sarong in light greens and cream tones, and a tank top that showed off both tattoos, and lightly tanned olive skin. Her bag was over her shoulder, a little messenger bag with a sort of swirling pattern on the front of it that she was rather a fan of. She wasn’t sure what brand it was a logo for, but she saw it around occasionally and generally snapped up whatever it was printed on

[articulategrisette]

Aranea on the other hand was compulsively punctual, and even the slightest setback tended to ruin her entire day regardless of whether it actually made her late for anything else. She had an impression of immaculate perfection to keep up, and settling for anything less just wasn't acceptable.

Thanks VERY much for that, mother, you despicable, rotten--

Too lost in her own sullen thoughts-- she had been an entire ten minutes late for a lecture-- she nearly walks right into the next person who turns the corner. With her head down and her hair falling in a curtail around her eyes, she hadn't even NOTICED, and her jolt of surprise sends her armful of books off balance. She has to scramble to catch them, and one still slips out the crash down right on her foot.

She doesn't curse or jump, just flinches and lets out a whimper of defeat. It's becoming one of those days, and she dreads looking up to see who she almost walked into-- probably Meenah in a mood, or some important official, or...

"P-porrim!?"

Even worse.

Her ex.

[ghastlycharm]

Terezi ==> Move In

[ghastlycharm]

She lets Aranea’s chatter wash over her, willing herself to get up and start unpacking. She hopes she’s not expected to spill about her family, too. That was the one subject she didn’t really want to talk about.

Finally, she musters up the energy to roll off the bed. She finds the box again and starts unpacking it. This one iiiiiiiiiiiiis… oh good, a fitted sheet. The sheet and blanket set she’d bought for her college bed was an outrageous mess of rainbow and zebra stripes, bright enough that she could sort of see it and probably horrifying to anyone else over the age of twelve. She loves them.

She laughs at Aranea’s awkward rambling. “Yeah. By the way, by being my roomie you’ve signed up for a room that’s covered in this stuff. Also I hope you like talking clocks.” She beings the annoying process of making her bed. Why do sheets have to be so hard to put on?

[articulategrisette]

Terezi is rapidly going to find that Aranea is, and always shall be, more than happy to fill in any awkward silences with her own voice, and lucky she manages to repress the urge to ask about family. She doesn't particularly want to discuss the finer points of her own, after all, so besides the occasional mention of that younger sister(never by name) she doesn't show a lot of interest in the subject. She has an absolute TON of books to be sorting out, and ends up with a pair of stacks neatly arranged on TOP of the shelf as well. Once she's satisfied with the symmetry of the two piles, she turns her attention on Terezi again, and at the sight of her sheets a bark of laughter bursts out before she can stop it.

"Pfft-- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-- You were a Lisa Frank fan as a child, weren't you?" She smiles as she says it, head cocked, but then she wonders what exactly the state of Terezi's eyes IS. She seems to be moving around just fine, but then again, Aranea's never been in close quarters with someone who was blind before. Maybe that was normal? And the braille labels... Oh, was her head ever spinning.

"No, no, I think it's lovely actually. I like them. I hate fitted sheets though, would you like a hand with it?" Aranea brushes her skirt off and gets to her feet, but doesn't approach right away. She doesn't want to be a COMPLETE busybody in the first twenty minutes.

[articulategrisette]

All possessions had a story behind them. Whether a simple comment of a relative thinking they would like it, or an epic tale of spending hours in dozens of stores trying to find the one that was just right, things tended to have their own little stories.

Shoes were one she particularly liked. The phrase about walking a mile in another person's shoes was one of her favorites, due to her sensitivity, and thanks to her 'mother' she had rather particular tastes of her own. Bright red ones, that is. Strange ones, perhaps, since her style of dress was often so conservative. She hated to bare her arms, had little cleavage to speak of, and her hips were merely adequate, so why show any of that off?

Her legs, on the other hand, were worth featuring. Long and relatively elegant, unlike her manner, and she payed attention to keep them toned, worth looking at. Another irregularity, a young woman of her awkward height and crowd-shy nature being a devotee of ballet. She was a rather poor dancer, in fact, but she loved it deeply.

Aranea had been dancing since childhood, put into a class with a group of girls her own age in an attempt to get her to socialize. She still remembered the studio, La Sylphide, and the funny man with the feline smile who owned it. She only remembered the face of one of her classmates, though, one Damara Megido, but her SHOES on the other hand...

She still had every pair, carefully tucked away in boxes lined with tissue paper, every one stacked and labelled neatly. Her pale beige starter slippers, scuffed from use and swiftly grown out of. The larger pair in pink, with a dark stain on one ribbon from a bloody nose after a bad fall.

(She had run away to a store room in shame to curl up and cry, and that was how she ended up meeting Damara, though she was hiding tears of lingual frustration instead of any physical shortcoming.)

Every pair had memories, even if they were inconsequential. The next pair of slippers were dark red, for her new partner, so they would match, all the rest plain white with varying marks, but the reds were stacked together with her first pair of pointe shoes. A gift from Archie, formerly-pristine white satin and well loved, though warped beyond usability. The second pair were Meenah's doing, an ostentatious display of her affection-- the dye had been staggered to achieve an ocean-esque gradient of pale-to-deep blues, and they were surprisingly tasteful.

(At least, Aranea assumed that it was inspired by warm feelings. It may have simply been one of her best friend's endeavors to annoy her family with the absurd cost of such a fanciful custom pair of already expensive shoes. It was hard to tell sometimes with Meenah, but she loved them all the same.)

That particular pair had been so well loved that both had broken shanks, snapped in quick succession when the surprise of the first had led to a hard landing on the second. And shortly after, another bloody nose, though she had avoided blood on the ribbons that time...

The next few pairs were her own doing, or simple family expenses, but every one of them were cataloged with the rest and stored with loving care when she could no longer use them.

She could tell stories for so many things, but her shoes in particular she could give a full account of every scuff, scrape, and battered box, where she'd gotten them, when they'd been outgrown or broken, and she cherished the memories they helped to store for her.