(2016-03-29) Stick Figures
Stick Figures
Summary: Harold and Lynzee meet up in science and draw hieroglyphics as they talk.
Date: 2016-03-29
Related: None
Scene Runner: NA

Despite the brick and concrete walls of this room, the rest is technologically sound. From the state of the art science tables to the drop screens over the windows. Even the projection system to show information is above and beyond any high school elsewhere. The inner most wall is lined with shelves holding needed materials and tools, half of which are locked and marked dangerous. Each table has access to a water supply and a burner. Stools instead of stairs surround the tables. Most seem set up for two students.

Lynzee loves science, oh how she does! Just stepping inside the door on her very first day of school in her very first day of school ever in her life, she's intrigued. This must be the best class ever, because there were so many things to explore. Coming further inside, she is before the teacher gets there, and she heads straight to… of all things.. the chalk board. Reaching for the chalk, she begins drawing a few odd designs on it that look what could be stuck people, but with a bit more detail to them.

There are voices in the hall, one deep and rumble, the other meek and soft. The rumble one says, "But I should get to go to, that is fair." And the meek one says, "But its my school, you're just here with me and you can barely squeeze through the doors. Just wait in the hall like usual. Or go work on dominos again." That seems to be the end of it, followed by a sneeze of course, then in comes Harold.
He may love science, but colds on the other hand are no fun. With a sniffle he comes in himself and is stopped for a moment. Someone is in here, doing non science even. So he stops to watch and just watches, curious what will come of this endeavor to draw the slightly detailed stick people. He may just stay and watch, trying not to interrupt, but then he sneezes. Announcing himself more than the voices in the hall. "I'm sorry … not to interrupt." Then he takes a slight step closer, "Whatcha drawing?" Curiosity there the same, focus on stick figures it seems.

If Lynzee hears the hall conversation, she doesn't do anything other than glancing over towards the door, but she goes back to work. A circle head. A triangle body. A long, oval on the bottom with three legs finishing. She places that next to a drawing of a rectangle with one of the corner squares and what looks like a line up the middle and turned at the last moment. All straight lines, but the center one could appear much like a snake in a box, regarding the ore human like figure beside it.
It's the sneeze that interrupts the three sharp ovals on their side she was drawing and she turns, chalk in hand and offers a friendly wave of her free hand. "Hi. I'm Lynzee." Because she loves her name and shares it with everyone. The question brings a raise of brows, "A story," she tells him simply. "But you didn't interrupt." Reaching for the eraser, she starts to draw it over the chalk designs on the board. "Are you sick?"

"Oh, a good story, what's it about," he ponders, but she's running the eraser over the images just the same. He comes in, "I'm Harold." Since she offered a name, he still stands back for the moment. He was studying it for a moment, may have an idea even. "Yeah, a cold. Hopefully it goes away soon." Some people would say before the weekend, he's not those people. "I'd hate to fall behind on school work." He could talk about sick, or ask the new girl more questions with curiosity, instead he comes forward and asks, "Want to draw something together?" He looks for another piece of chalk.

"It's about a hungry person and they couldn't find any food, but then the snake was hungry too and he found food." Lynzee says simplistically. As he comes further in, she looks over and offers a smiling tilt of her head. "It's good to meet you, Harold. I never met a Harold before." The drawing disappears beneath the eraser but the chalk is still in her hand. "School work is.. kinda harder than I thought it would be," she shrugs, having already struggled through math class before this one.
When he comes forward, she bobs her head in a nod, "I want to draw something else. I like these," she motions a hand towards the chalk board. As he searches for a piece of chalk, she breaks hers in half and offers him half. "There you go!"

"A sad story for the person, but good for the snake?" Harold thinks he gets the idea, but pauses as another sneeze tries to build up. It doesn't quite surface, he keeps it at bay after drawing in a few breaths of near sneezing amplitude. "Really, not used to it, you were home schooled?" Out of curiosity and to be conversational. That's what interests him the most. Though she has an infectious smile oddly, so he smiles too, right along with her. "Chalk boards?" THe thing she likes, and he takes the half of chalk. "Thanks." A grin, he tries to draw on the board, the start of a face, but he doesn't like it and quickly erases it. "Maybe you can show me more of your story art?" So he doesn't look bad at drawing.

There's a bob of her head and Lynzee agrees, "Bad for the person and good for the snake." It's spoken in a matter-of-fact way. When he gears up for the sneeze, she waits for it, waits for it.. it never comes and she grins, "Bless you." Anyway. Cause it was an almost sneeze, he had put all the work in for it! "I never went to any school at all. I guess I never had a home to be schooled in before. But this is a good school." Her smile brightens, "And I get to meet a lot of good friends. And it's warm." Watching as he begins to draw, she bobs her head until she sees him erase it. "I can show you some story art. Or you can draw a story too." She draws a triangle with a squiggly line through it. "Did you ever see any of the pyramids?" she asks conversationally.

A slight chuckle when she blesses him, then Harold gets slightly serious at least, "Thank you." It counted, and she said it, that made it all better no matter what. Curious of her stories now, he's looking at the board, but turning his head slightly towards her with that curiosity bubbling inside of him. "I hope I meet a lot of good friends too, I think its kind of cold, but maybe you come from the arctic." Cause if this is warmer, that must be the case. He draws like she does, representationaly at least. One can see triangle and when she says Pyramid, it really takes a shape to it. "Only on TV, did you travel there before? Like where you were a little, without a home." Less drawing, more glancing to her, was she homeless at one point.

The chuckle brings her attention to his eyes, to see if they smiled when he did, and she catches it just before he turns serious again. "You're welcome," Lynzee says simply. "I didn't come from the arctic. I never been there before. I came from Egypt." Ah the pyramids. "I traveled here from there. I like it here but I liked it there." She nods with a grin. "When I was little? When I was ten I got magic, but I was in Egypt." It makes sense to her at least. "What about you? When did you get magic?"

"Oh, I imagine that's even warmer, maybe too warm." If she likes this, then she doesn't necessarily like hot of course. Harold isn't sure either way, he's only pondering to keep talking to her. "Yeah, that explains how you got here of course," little enough for him, he's accepting what she says on the surface, not yet curious enough to dig, cause cute girl and fun drawing with her. Then he looks over, "What I do, its not really magic. I guess I sort of, enter dreams. They're real, I can actually go there. Or bring things out of there. Maybe that sounds weird. My friend in the hall, Eryaog, he's from my dreams. Him and my armor, which is why I'm here at the school. But its not like magic." He tries to draw some stick people, not like Eygptian at all. "I assume note, you mean like spells and stuff, arcane stuff right?"

"Sometimes too warm," Lynzee nods perhaps a touch too solemnly. "I lived in the woods in Washington, I came over with the diggers, and it's been really fun but they moved on and I came here. I like how there's always food though. So much food and all I have to do is get in line to get it." There is a sparkle in her eyes when she turns to face him, but she still holds the chalk in hand, almost forgotten now in favor of talking to him. Her eyes round slightly, "You enter dreams?" With a clap of delight, the chalk crumbles all over her new blazer they had put her in. "Oh but that's magic! It's really magic!" There's a bit of a sly smile but in her innocent expression, it's almost comical. "You can take things out of dreams? I dreamed once there was a room with soo much food, so much food and ice cream. Then I woke up and it was all gone." Peeking towards the hall, she doesn't stick her head out, but she does look interested. "Oh but it's like magic. Eryaog is your friend? Can I meet him sometime?" Watching him draw, she realizes she was wearing her chalk and blushes a little, "You can make one hand go this way," she dips a finger in the chalk dust and demonstrates on his stick figure, "And one go this way," she makes the other hand different, "And that's one of the symbols."

As she further talks of her story and coming to Washington, it begs more questions, that is in Harold's eyes at least. He wants to ask her but doesn't want too pry at the moment, cause in some way, that means one could pry into his past and his comforble with what he has now. Its a subconscious thing for him to not want to pry. A nod about dreams, glad she takes interest there, cause he thinks part of pasts may be sad, and now things are good. After she speaks about food and while she draws on the board to show him how to make the symbols, or hands that becomes a symbol, he bends over as if pulling something out of a basket, his eyes closes. Eventually he comes up with a bundle, in a stripped red and white cloth, like for a picnic table cover, and he opens it up. There are sweet bread rolls inside, honey covered. "I can bring food," he offers, unfolding it, they are a slight tinge towards red, instead of the usual tan for bread, but smell just as good.

Prying either direction doesn't seem to be an issue for Lynzee who just seems to take everything at face value. Her expression is open and honest, though when he nods as she mentions the dreams, she smiles in response. The rest of his thoughts, she cannot really decipher from his expression, so she reaches for part of a crumbled chalk and begins to absently draw a bird with two solid colored circles beside it. When he bends over, she looks at him curiously, then he comes up with the bread and it all smells so nice. "You.. just made food!" It's not a question, it's acceptance, delight and a whole lot of excitement. "How come it's red?" Yes, that one is a question, but it doesn't stop her from looking at the bread and asking another, "Can I have one?" It's about then that the teacher walks in and Lynzee is caught red handed, almost literally since the breads are red, but also with the chalk. She is sent to clean up and she skips out to do so, a wave to Harold in the process.

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