Silver Thorn Academy discussion
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message 101:
by
Ilsa
(new)
Mar 30, 2014 08:40AM
"No. I just forget things. And sometimes others know them. Well, I guess that's a yes, then. I've tried a planner, but I lost it in the bathrooms." She met his eyes levelly, with an impassive sparkle in her eyes.
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"I see. Well, maybe you should put things in your phone, if you have one," he said, frowning.
"I think I lost it, if I had one. Oh, no, it's here in my pocket." She pulled it out, a really ancient flip-phone.
"There should be a calendar on it, if you just put your assignments there," he said, shrugging. He didn't own a phone.
"It doesn't have any charge." She smiled and put it on the table. "Do you want it? My acquaintances mail me. Probably because I forgot my phone."
"I don't want your phone, no," he said, shaking his head slightly.
"All right." she made a move to take it, but fumbled it, and it fell into the bowl of nuts. She made no move to get it, as if she'd forgotten about it already.
"I don't think that's where it goes," he said, slightly amused.
"Where what goes?" She seemed to be slightly crazy, but not on the violent side.
"The phone," he said, blinking. She was... airy, for sure.
She squinted, like she was trying to remember. "Oh. Right." Maybe the madness was due to being dropped as a child. By her phoenix mother. Onto concrete on would-be-adopters, like a grisly package from the evil stork.
He thought it strange, how she seemed to be deep in thought, but not be thinking at all, at the same time.
"I'm not strange," she said, "And if I am, everybody's strange, just on different levels of strangeness. How terrifying to be nothing but ordinary." She seemed unperturbed that nothing had been said, and it was unsure whether she was actually referring to his thoughts, or just changing the subject to herself randomly.
"I see. I suppose that's an accurate point of view," he replied, shrugging.
"I'm just on a higher level of strangeness," she explained, eating a detested raisin, then gagging on it.
"I suppose you could see it like that," he agreed, nodding.
"I don't really have an opinion," Crimson replied.
((Gtg, church!))"No. Not that you're lying, you might think you don't, but you're wrong." She scratched her neck. "I want orange juice."
"Then I suppose you should get orange juice," Crimson said, ignoring her observation.
"I've forgotten where the dining hall is," she said vaguely. "I suppose I'll find it sooner or later. I wonder if I've remembered to make a map." She probably had, then put it on her dorm wall.
"I see. Well, maybe you should go check and see," he said, shrugging.
"Check where? My pajamas don't have pockets." They did. She'd just taken her phone out of it a moment before.
"Wow! No wonder I lost my phone!" She dug her hands into the pockets, bringing out a deck of cards, a wallet long forgotten, some tic tacs, and a pocket bible.
Crimson skin crawled at the sight of the bible, but he kept his smile. "I see."
She put everything back in her pockets. "So, do you have a phone? I wish I had one."
"You do have one," he said, shrugging. "No. I don't."
"I think I'd know if I had a phone," she laughed, taking another raisin. "You should get one."
"Your phone's right there," Crimson said, pointing at the flip phone.
"Oh my gosh, someone must have dropped this," she said, "Did anyone come by here? Sorry, I have a rubbish memory."
"That's yours," he said, shaking his head.
"Oh. I like the color." She ran her finger along the blue enamel, then it too vanished in her pockets. "It's pretty useless if I don't charge it."
"You like blue, or something?" he asked. His hair was light blue, after all.
She nodded. "Like a bluebird," she said, "They're my favorite." She looked up, then down at her picture and the phone again. Then she looked up quickly. "Ohmigosh, you have blue hair!"
"I do, yes," he agreed, laughing softly, even if it was false.
"Can I ruffle it?" she asked, eyes glued to his scalp.
"Sure," he said, still falsely agreeable.
"You should probably stand up for yourself," she said, standing on tiptoes and leaning over the table to ruffle his hair. It was feathery and light.
"I don't have anything to stand up for," he replied.
"You've got yourself," she said, "That's enough, hopefully." she sat back down in her chair and stacked her coloring books. "Could you sign what you colored, so I will remember your name, if I don't lose the picture?"
"Sure," he said, signing Crimson in purple.
"That's funny. You should have used red," she joked, smiling widely. She almost looked like she had feathers growing out of her scalp along with her hair.
"I suppose that makes me slightly odd," he agreed, shrugging.
"Hmm... You have a red name and blue hair. I guess that makes purple crayon okay. I might even remember that."
"Don't hurt yourself," he said, not sure if being remembered was good or not.
"I won't, I'm not playing with knives. Am I?" she looked down at her hands, like they might be doing something behind her back.
Metaphorically, you're playing with fire. Very devilish fire, he thought. "No," he said.
