Ellie and John, Monday afternoon
Oct. 21st, 2013 04:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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om_mainEllie and John linger after class, which creates a decided moth-and-flame effect. Creepy cuties and--crushes?
Class was over, but John didn't really have anywhere else to be--or if he did, he'd long since forgotten because he didn't particularly care. He was deep in thought, lighter flicked open and on, pushing a tiny, superhot flame around a square piece of even-grained light wood, the pen usually used for that sort of thing unplugged on the table nearby. He'd sketched out the design simply in pencil first, just as a guideline: it was meant to be a tree, but he'd opted for a fiery pattern instead of leaves. There was no telling whether the tree was on fire, or it was a fire-tree, and that was just the way he liked it. The tiny embellishments he was making were far more elaborate than the pale graphite guides; he liked to improvise and let the fire take him where it would.
This kind of delicate work was consuming in the most delicious way. Feeding the fire and keeping it so very contained without letting things get out of control in the wood itself as it began that lovely, lovely chemical breakdown that brought out the rich dark brown tone he wanted for the outlines. (And the smell of it, oh god, beeeeeautiful.) He had a job of it not going overboard, but he couldn't really control the reaction in the wood itself, only by proxy through the air surrounding it. On the rare occasions when he was trying to alter a thing, not destroy it, hitting the flash point would be bad. As many charred stumps in his aunt's backyard could attest.
It was a little like riding the line between chaos and order. Sometimes he just gave in and let it burn. Sometimes he ended up making something. The getting there was the part that got him highest, in some ways.
The smell was what had caught Ellie's attention most. The end of class was usually not something to push her out of the art room right away, as she much preferred doing work in there than any of the actual classrooms. Most of the students in this class were like that, and it was amusing--though unsurprising--to see one of the newest art students being bitten by the same bug.
Eventually she dropped her paintbrush into her water can and made her way over, wanting to see what John was up to with his (pretty powers?) project. "Hello. Your work smells oh so wonderful, you know. I had to come and see."
"Mmm, sweet, sweet combustion byproducts." John finished the line he was working on before he flicked the lighter closed and glanced up. Of course he recognized her--she was hard to miss, with her keen sense of style, and he'd looked out for her since that journal conversation anyhow. He smiled brightly. "Ah, Ellie. Hello there. Nothing like a little pyrography to make your day yeah?"
That made her blue eyes light up excitedly, and she invited herself to sit next to him to watch further. The first few moments rolled by in silent interest, but soon Ellie lifted her head to watch John's face. "You have fine control."
"I been working on it for--a little over a year, I reckon, non-stop." John finished off another nice line and smothered the flame again so he could look over at her. "It's easy to work on something when you like it, though, isn't it?"
"Oh yes, very much," she agreed with an animated nod, long hair bouncing along with the movement. "That is how I practiced making clothes. But, uhm, I would say that this makes clothing look so boring in comparison!"
Seriously. Fire. What the hell COULD beat fire!?
"Fire makes everything look so boring, doesn't it, darling?" John grinned at her and reached out to flick his lighter, grabbing hold of the flame and raising it up to hover at their eye level as he went on. "I like your clothing, though. Most people around here have no style. Very safe and suburban; bit puke-inducing, really."
Ellie's blue eyes went wide, and were madly fixed on the sight of the magnificent flame before her. Such a beautiful danger it was, so entrancing...so destructive. She loved it so! "That is not just here...even people in Genosha looked so boring most of the time..." her words came out slowly and unfocused, "for cultures that care so much about fashion and appearance, they simply care too much about trends and what is...ah, acceptable. Society acceptable. Wow."
"Oh, you're from Genosha! Mum always wanted to go, but she couldn't get the visa." She'd always wanted to do a bit on poverty there; apparently the culture was especially mean about it, and she had some grand scheme of blowing it wide open or... somethingorother. Anyhow, they'd gone to Fiji that year for the arts book, and that was that.
He flicked his fingers, grinning at her clear appreciation, and expanded the flame; with a thought he sculpted it into the shape of a man in a cape. He spun and swirled it around him, all Dracula. "You're right, though. People just don't understand the importance of self-expression, is the problem. Conformity is a plague."
More wonderful words had never been said to her.
Ellie tore her eyes from the flames and dropped her gaze on John. She had only just met him but, strangely, she was feeling a bizarre sort of...affection in her chest? Was it possible he could be close to perfect? Her face felt hot, but she was apt to blame it on the fire. So she stared there again.
"A plague with no working cure, it would seem. I hear the thoughts so much, yes, and they all worry about what the next person would think or feel of them. That their entitlement to make...ah, judgments on their appearances is justified. But it's silly. Yucky. I don't like when people think they should feel as though they can say 'hey! That's ugly!' or 'that's scary!' So I just feel the need to look spookier."
John made a sudden flashy gesture and the caped fire-man flew apart--and turned into a giant bat with pointed wings. He giggled a little at it, but had in fact divided his attention very much for this conversation with Ellie. "Telepathy would be horrible for that very reason. I much prefer to pretend they're thinking more interesting things. Halfway intelligent things.
"Bunch of pathetic muggles, if you ask me--yucky indeed. You're a warrior for free thought and imagination, my dear Ellie." And obviously he appreciated her art; her outfits were some of the only ones at the school he'd even noticed, the others were so nap-inducing. Brilliant girl, really!
Her eyes lit up at the sight of the bat, very much drawn into the design of the fire. She loved bats. Reminded her of Halloween and vampires and monsters and things that went bump in the night. Creepy! The smile on her face went full on exuberant. "It would seem, John, that you are quite similar, yes?"
Ugh. I wish I could touch it.
"Indeed." And that was the truth--very similar, he was thinking.But John blinked, both surprised and intrigued by the sudden sound--or feeling?--of her in his head. Tentatively, he tried: I can make it look like you're touching it, if you want.
Ellie most certainly caught the thought and her face softened in an almost shy way. The excitement didn't leave, however. Would you? I would like that very much.
Hold out your hands, darling, John thought. He was trying to pin down the sensation of it, this thinky-talk thing, even as he made his own hands into fists and the fire-bat into a little ball.
Yes, the fabulous bowling ball of fire. Wait, had he thought that at her? Or did it make a difference? He didn't know, but it made him giggle.
His thoughts were warm and very amusing, and Ellie couldn't help but giggle along with John as she held her hands out. This was so fantastic! So dangerous and so destructive but so beautiful, too. Ellie felt absolutely thrilled and wonderful, making her start gushing again, inwardly. How bizarre! Like exciting, sparks of heated energy...wow.
"Ohhhhhh, I still very much think that your powers are my favourite," she had to admit.
He spread the ball of fire out and over her hands like a blanket carefully. This took a little more concentration, but his control of convection worked in such a way that he could actually keep most of the heat from hitting her even at such a close range. He replied, "Mine too, without a doubt!" cheerfully, then bit down so his tongue poked out from the side of his mouth just a little.
Ah-ha, now here was the fun part. He pulled his hands apart and back together in a kind of oval gesture and the fire-blanket sort of wrapped around Ellie's hands, both over and under, like a warm little turnover. He giggled. "There now, that's nice isn't it?"
Ellie's black lips made a small little 'o' shape as she watched, making sure to keep her hands perfectly still (and really worked to avoid shoving her hand right in like she so badly wanted to).
"It is perfect. So so perfect," she whispered. "This would feel nice in the winter when there is lots of snow and wind strong enough to make you cry."
John's tongue retracted briefly only to reappear a second later out the other side of his mouth. Between tongue positions, he lifted both hands, fingers trailing downward, and made gentle waves of the upper surface of the fire-blanket. It was lovely to have a truly appreciative audience, and he could just feel it with Ellie, even moreso than Alice--she got him. He wanted to give her the show she deserved--a small one for now, a bigger one someday when they were outside, maybe.
"Haven't seen snow in years," he admitted; though he sounded distracted, he wasn't--he just saved the language processing for once he was sure the convection was set up right and his brain could do it without much attention from him. "Looking forward to melting it."
The flame was so alluring, and having it wrapped around her hands made it so that it felt like every fibre of her body was attracted to it. It reminded her of her fascination of the volcanoes back home and the very thought of the red, hot magma pouring over all the land. Beautiful danger engulfing everything. Magma was sort of like fire, in a way, only the latter was not liquid. Fire was its own form--its own beast--truly unique, but naturally so.
Maybe that was a good reason to like it, too. Nothing else was like it, and that was a truly wonderful thing. "Could you imagine all the spirally, angry steam that would make? Fire devouring snow? Haunting!"
John flicked his fingers and unwrapped the blanket of fire so it was only on top of her hands, then lifted it slowly. He fisted one hand and brought it back into the little ball hovering between them. Only when that was accomplished did he cackle a little and say, "Too right. I'll let you know--we can run around make steam ghosts with it, when it's time. There's a story waiting to happen if I ever heard one."
Winter ghosts trapped in the snow, waiting to be let out with fire. Brilliant, this girl was!
John got a triumphant little smirk from Ellie. "Then I will have to hunt you down after first snowfall, for that."
"My kinda date," John replied matter-of-factly. Then he reached out and flicked the lighter shut, killing the flame.
Biting her lip, Ellie glanced down at the art when she felt her cheeks warm up again. Perhaps it was time to go and hide for awhile until she got over this! Best idea.
"See you next class!" she called over her shoulder and returned to put away her paintbrushes.
"Bye-bye, Ellie-girl!" What a darling she was. John decided right there and then that he ought to give her a story of her own to hero through. It'd have to be very different, just like her. This was going to take some serious thinking.
Good job he was working with fire right now. Nothing better for it.
Class was over, but John didn't really have anywhere else to be--or if he did, he'd long since forgotten because he didn't particularly care. He was deep in thought, lighter flicked open and on, pushing a tiny, superhot flame around a square piece of even-grained light wood, the pen usually used for that sort of thing unplugged on the table nearby. He'd sketched out the design simply in pencil first, just as a guideline: it was meant to be a tree, but he'd opted for a fiery pattern instead of leaves. There was no telling whether the tree was on fire, or it was a fire-tree, and that was just the way he liked it. The tiny embellishments he was making were far more elaborate than the pale graphite guides; he liked to improvise and let the fire take him where it would.
This kind of delicate work was consuming in the most delicious way. Feeding the fire and keeping it so very contained without letting things get out of control in the wood itself as it began that lovely, lovely chemical breakdown that brought out the rich dark brown tone he wanted for the outlines. (And the smell of it, oh god, beeeeeautiful.) He had a job of it not going overboard, but he couldn't really control the reaction in the wood itself, only by proxy through the air surrounding it. On the rare occasions when he was trying to alter a thing, not destroy it, hitting the flash point would be bad. As many charred stumps in his aunt's backyard could attest.
It was a little like riding the line between chaos and order. Sometimes he just gave in and let it burn. Sometimes he ended up making something. The getting there was the part that got him highest, in some ways.
The smell was what had caught Ellie's attention most. The end of class was usually not something to push her out of the art room right away, as she much preferred doing work in there than any of the actual classrooms. Most of the students in this class were like that, and it was amusing--though unsurprising--to see one of the newest art students being bitten by the same bug.
Eventually she dropped her paintbrush into her water can and made her way over, wanting to see what John was up to with his (pretty powers?) project. "Hello. Your work smells oh so wonderful, you know. I had to come and see."
"Mmm, sweet, sweet combustion byproducts." John finished the line he was working on before he flicked the lighter closed and glanced up. Of course he recognized her--she was hard to miss, with her keen sense of style, and he'd looked out for her since that journal conversation anyhow. He smiled brightly. "Ah, Ellie. Hello there. Nothing like a little pyrography to make your day yeah?"
That made her blue eyes light up excitedly, and she invited herself to sit next to him to watch further. The first few moments rolled by in silent interest, but soon Ellie lifted her head to watch John's face. "You have fine control."
"I been working on it for--a little over a year, I reckon, non-stop." John finished off another nice line and smothered the flame again so he could look over at her. "It's easy to work on something when you like it, though, isn't it?"
"Oh yes, very much," she agreed with an animated nod, long hair bouncing along with the movement. "That is how I practiced making clothes. But, uhm, I would say that this makes clothing look so boring in comparison!"
Seriously. Fire. What the hell COULD beat fire!?
"Fire makes everything look so boring, doesn't it, darling?" John grinned at her and reached out to flick his lighter, grabbing hold of the flame and raising it up to hover at their eye level as he went on. "I like your clothing, though. Most people around here have no style. Very safe and suburban; bit puke-inducing, really."
Ellie's blue eyes went wide, and were madly fixed on the sight of the magnificent flame before her. Such a beautiful danger it was, so entrancing...so destructive. She loved it so! "That is not just here...even people in Genosha looked so boring most of the time..." her words came out slowly and unfocused, "for cultures that care so much about fashion and appearance, they simply care too much about trends and what is...ah, acceptable. Society acceptable. Wow."
"Oh, you're from Genosha! Mum always wanted to go, but she couldn't get the visa." She'd always wanted to do a bit on poverty there; apparently the culture was especially mean about it, and she had some grand scheme of blowing it wide open or... somethingorother. Anyhow, they'd gone to Fiji that year for the arts book, and that was that.
He flicked his fingers, grinning at her clear appreciation, and expanded the flame; with a thought he sculpted it into the shape of a man in a cape. He spun and swirled it around him, all Dracula. "You're right, though. People just don't understand the importance of self-expression, is the problem. Conformity is a plague."
More wonderful words had never been said to her.
Ellie tore her eyes from the flames and dropped her gaze on John. She had only just met him but, strangely, she was feeling a bizarre sort of...affection in her chest? Was it possible he could be close to perfect? Her face felt hot, but she was apt to blame it on the fire. So she stared there again.
"A plague with no working cure, it would seem. I hear the thoughts so much, yes, and they all worry about what the next person would think or feel of them. That their entitlement to make...ah, judgments on their appearances is justified. But it's silly. Yucky. I don't like when people think they should feel as though they can say 'hey! That's ugly!' or 'that's scary!' So I just feel the need to look spookier."
John made a sudden flashy gesture and the caped fire-man flew apart--and turned into a giant bat with pointed wings. He giggled a little at it, but had in fact divided his attention very much for this conversation with Ellie. "Telepathy would be horrible for that very reason. I much prefer to pretend they're thinking more interesting things. Halfway intelligent things.
"Bunch of pathetic muggles, if you ask me--yucky indeed. You're a warrior for free thought and imagination, my dear Ellie." And obviously he appreciated her art; her outfits were some of the only ones at the school he'd even noticed, the others were so nap-inducing. Brilliant girl, really!
Her eyes lit up at the sight of the bat, very much drawn into the design of the fire. She loved bats. Reminded her of Halloween and vampires and monsters and things that went bump in the night. Creepy! The smile on her face went full on exuberant. "It would seem, John, that you are quite similar, yes?"
Ugh. I wish I could touch it.
"Indeed." And that was the truth--very similar, he was thinking.But John blinked, both surprised and intrigued by the sudden sound--or feeling?--of her in his head. Tentatively, he tried: I can make it look like you're touching it, if you want.
Ellie most certainly caught the thought and her face softened in an almost shy way. The excitement didn't leave, however. Would you? I would like that very much.
Hold out your hands, darling, John thought. He was trying to pin down the sensation of it, this thinky-talk thing, even as he made his own hands into fists and the fire-bat into a little ball.
Yes, the fabulous bowling ball of fire. Wait, had he thought that at her? Or did it make a difference? He didn't know, but it made him giggle.
His thoughts were warm and very amusing, and Ellie couldn't help but giggle along with John as she held her hands out. This was so fantastic! So dangerous and so destructive but so beautiful, too. Ellie felt absolutely thrilled and wonderful, making her start gushing again, inwardly. How bizarre! Like exciting, sparks of heated energy...wow.
"Ohhhhhh, I still very much think that your powers are my favourite," she had to admit.
He spread the ball of fire out and over her hands like a blanket carefully. This took a little more concentration, but his control of convection worked in such a way that he could actually keep most of the heat from hitting her even at such a close range. He replied, "Mine too, without a doubt!" cheerfully, then bit down so his tongue poked out from the side of his mouth just a little.
Ah-ha, now here was the fun part. He pulled his hands apart and back together in a kind of oval gesture and the fire-blanket sort of wrapped around Ellie's hands, both over and under, like a warm little turnover. He giggled. "There now, that's nice isn't it?"
Ellie's black lips made a small little 'o' shape as she watched, making sure to keep her hands perfectly still (and really worked to avoid shoving her hand right in like she so badly wanted to).
"It is perfect. So so perfect," she whispered. "This would feel nice in the winter when there is lots of snow and wind strong enough to make you cry."
John's tongue retracted briefly only to reappear a second later out the other side of his mouth. Between tongue positions, he lifted both hands, fingers trailing downward, and made gentle waves of the upper surface of the fire-blanket. It was lovely to have a truly appreciative audience, and he could just feel it with Ellie, even moreso than Alice--she got him. He wanted to give her the show she deserved--a small one for now, a bigger one someday when they were outside, maybe.
"Haven't seen snow in years," he admitted; though he sounded distracted, he wasn't--he just saved the language processing for once he was sure the convection was set up right and his brain could do it without much attention from him. "Looking forward to melting it."
The flame was so alluring, and having it wrapped around her hands made it so that it felt like every fibre of her body was attracted to it. It reminded her of her fascination of the volcanoes back home and the very thought of the red, hot magma pouring over all the land. Beautiful danger engulfing everything. Magma was sort of like fire, in a way, only the latter was not liquid. Fire was its own form--its own beast--truly unique, but naturally so.
Maybe that was a good reason to like it, too. Nothing else was like it, and that was a truly wonderful thing. "Could you imagine all the spirally, angry steam that would make? Fire devouring snow? Haunting!"
John flicked his fingers and unwrapped the blanket of fire so it was only on top of her hands, then lifted it slowly. He fisted one hand and brought it back into the little ball hovering between them. Only when that was accomplished did he cackle a little and say, "Too right. I'll let you know--we can run around make steam ghosts with it, when it's time. There's a story waiting to happen if I ever heard one."
Winter ghosts trapped in the snow, waiting to be let out with fire. Brilliant, this girl was!
John got a triumphant little smirk from Ellie. "Then I will have to hunt you down after first snowfall, for that."
"My kinda date," John replied matter-of-factly. Then he reached out and flicked the lighter shut, killing the flame.
Biting her lip, Ellie glanced down at the art when she felt her cheeks warm up again. Perhaps it was time to go and hide for awhile until she got over this! Best idea.
"See you next class!" she called over her shoulder and returned to put away her paintbrushes.
"Bye-bye, Ellie-girl!" What a darling she was. John decided right there and then that he ought to give her a story of her own to hero through. It'd have to be very different, just like her. This was going to take some serious thinking.
Good job he was working with fire right now. Nothing better for it.
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Date: 2013-10-22 12:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-10-22 10:15 pm (UTC)