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| Of Human Nature and Fantasy Stories | |
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| Participants | Marie-Ange, Rahne |
| Synopsis | Marie-Ange stumbles across Rahne working on a story and the pair of a small chit-chat. |
| Location | Living Area, Genetics Research Centre, Muir |
| Time | January 20, 2016 |
| Posted By | Marie-Ange |
Rahne might not be immediately visible, as she's sprawled out on one of those couches. Lying on her stomach, her feet occasionally visible over the top of the couch's back, she has a notebook open on the cushion in front of her, onto which she's writing away, unhurried but without pause. With a quiet crinkle of the page, she flips the book along to a fresh sheet and then picks up writing, her ballpoint leaving a steady stream of blue ink in her wake. She finally hits a stumbling block and pauses, tapping the pen against her bottom lip as she rereads her last few sentences. Lost to a world of fiction, she's unaware of the room around her.
Marie-Ange has finished up with her day of researching and archery practice. Some people might get bored with the repeated regimen, but she finds stability in it. The French woman can now be found padding into the living area in a pair of black workout tearaways and a grey tank top. She carries a cup of steaming hot tea with her. At first, she doesn't realize anyone else is in the room, but then, she sees the feet moving overtop of one of the couches. Pausing, she peers over it, then says in a heavily accented voice, "Ah, Rahne. I thought this place was a ghost town tonight or something." The th's sound almost like z's or t's, depending on their placement and the combination of consonants and vowels. "Working on the next best seller?" she queries curiously as she rounds the couch.
Rahne doesn't even notice immediately when Marie-Ange comes wandering in. It's only when the woman speaks up that the girl snaps out of it, craning around to look up over the back of the couch, clearly a little surprised until that gives way to a sheepish grin. Rolling onto her side, she balances on the outer edge of the cushions, making it a little easier to look up. Though it's just as well when Marie-Ange starts to come around it, since the position was a little precarious. Rolling back onto her stomach again once the woman comes back into sight, she shrugs her shoulders modestly. "Ach, hardly. Jus' had a wee idea that I had to get down on paper. I'm a bit stuck a' the moment though." Her own accent fits much better with the locals, even down to regional variations.
Offering up a bit of a grin, Marie-Ange replies, "Ah, a little bit of writer's block? Mon dieu, I know how terrible that can be." 'Terrible' sounds more like the French word. Even despite the fact that she speaks English well, it's hard to keep the French pronunciations out of her speech. "I'm sure something will come to you. You'll have one of those, what are they called? 'Eureka moments'?" she offers up in an attempt to encourage the teenager. "Maybe you need a break from it? I think that's required to have a 'Eureka' thing happen…" She read about it somewhere, perhaps. She moves over to an adjacent chair and situates herself upon it so that she can finally have a sip of tea.
"Aye, I can't figure out how to get them from where they are now, to where they need to be later. I migh' need to go back and fix things…" Rahne muses, as much to herself as to Marie-Ange. And then suddenly, as if remembering her manners, she moves to sit upright, tugging her shirt down and smoothing it out as she re-situates herself. "Bu' it isn't any hurry. I suppose you're righ', and a break might do me some good." The book is flipped shut, the pen tucked into the metal spiral that binds it together. "An' how are yeh doing?"
The sudden move to straighten herself out draws a chuckle out of the older woman. "Relax and be comfortable, Rahne. I am not going to scold you for lazing about. Lazing about looks like fun." In fact, she pulls her own sock-covered feet up onto her own chair so that she can rest her cup on top of her knees, holding it there between both hands. "Anyway, I'm sure it will come to you. Sometimes, we need inspiration, non? So perhaps doing a little light reading or watching a movie might spark some further ideas. Not copying… just seeing how other writers handle their progression through their stories. But definitely take a break and it might help." As she's asked how she's doing, she replies, "I'm doing well enough. Yourself?"
Rahne offers another sheepish grin, though she opts to stay upright now. If anything, it makes conversing easier than trying to crane her neck. Setting her book onto the empty cushion beside her, she settles into the corner crook between the arm and the back of the couch. "Aye, I am no' too worried. My hand was starting to cramp anyway." There's a rueful smile with that as she holds up her hand and shakes it out lightly. Stretching out her fingers, she casts a quick glance around. "Oh, I'm well, thank yeh. It's nice being back. Nice, bu' a little weird, maybe. It's so verra quiet," she admits, dropping her voice just a little. Not that she's any stranger to the Research Centre, but visits are different than living her long term, and after all those years at a mutant school, this Zen-like atmosphere is a bit of a change.
With a grin, Marie-Ange says, "And there's just something about hand-writing something rather than typing on a computer, non?" Yes, she gets it to a point, even if she doesn't personally pursue this kind of writing, generally. An occasional journal-entry might be as close to that as she can claim. "I'm sure Moira is happy to have you back, rather than bouncing back and forth. She missed you when you were gone, I think, if I may say," she ventures. Then, she nods and agrees, "Yes, it has been quiet. Not necessarily a bad thing, but I suppose after the craziness of Manhattan, it might be, hm, difficult to adjust to?"
"Aye, it jus' isn't the same on the computer. An' I can't stand staring a' tha' screen for so many hours," Rahne admits, still a bit of a technophobe even all these years later. "An' I have never heard of a notebook getting a virus or crashing." There's a little grin with that before she turns more thoughtful, canting her head to one side, her smile softening. "Ach, I missed her too. Even when we're both busy, it's nice to know tha' she is nearby. An' I don't miss all the flying," is added a little more ruefully. "The quiet isn't a bad thing, no. Jus' different. When I'm here, I miss there; when I'm there, I miss here. But I would never have believed I'd be complaining abou' having too many places where I want to be. It is a nice curse to have."
"Not that I'm necessarily privy to Moira's musings, but it's obvious that she missed you when you weren't here. It's good to have you around. Things don't seem so unearthly quiet with more people and it's good when those people are kind ones such as yourself." It's her own way of saying that maybe she missed the girl too. Sometimes she speaks a little cryptically or beats around the bush. Sometimes not. "It's a long trip, isn't it? Seven, eight hours? I can't say I'd enjoy hopping back and forth across the ocean like that. But yes, I think I understand. We always want what we don't have, non?"
Rahne goes a bit pink at the compliment, ducking her head demurely. "Ach, well, thank yeh," she murmurs quietly, a little awkward but flattered just the same. There's a nod, as to the trip. "It isn't so bad, an' Moira always lets me go first class, though I told her I didn't need all tha'." She can't help but grin at her generous benefactor. "Sometimes I wonder wha' they are up to at the school now. They migh' have snow. An' of course, I hope everyone is all righ'." There's a pause before she continues. "Ach, bu' listen to me go on. How's your work coming?"
"If you're flying overseas, first class is likely the better way. I've heard horror stories about flying overseas in economy." The older woman tries to suppress a shudder. "Anyway, as for the school, it's likely snow. You should check the weather authorities later or something. Or email one of your old friends?" There are always ways to find out! "But, ah, I'm sure they're all alright, Rahne. I'm sure if something was amiss that Moira would hear something, non?" There's a shrug after a moment's consideration of all of this. "Oh, it goes, slowly but surely. There's a lot of material to cover. I think I'll never learn it all. Sometimes I think there's so much that I don't even know where to start. I could read up on all Celtic mythology or I could take the idea of faeries and such and trace them through various societies. But like I said, it's still going. But I have lots of time here, right?"
"Aye, well, no' tha' I don't appreciate it," Rahne is quick to clarify, lest she seem ungrateful for Moira's upgrades. "Bu' I woul' hole up in cargo without complaint if it came to tha'." She isn't someone very motivated by personal comfort, after all, though it may be a bit of hyperbole there. She gives a sheepish smile, nodding her head. "Ach aye. I'm sure tha' they must be fine. I'm jus' prone to worrying. An' with things there how they are…" She lets that trail off meaningfully before trying to get back onto a cheerier topic. "Tha' all sounds verra interesting. An' aye, I'm sure there's no rush. Yeh've got time to look into it all, if yeh have the inclination."
With a small chuckle, Marie-Ange replies, "I highly doubt Moira would send you via cargo. That would just be cruel and unusual. But, I understand what you are tyring to say. I guess my point is: if she wants to send you first class, don't fret about it. She wouldn't do it if she didn't want to." She takes a goodly mouthful from the cup of tea which is rapidly cooling, then replies, "It's natural to worry about those we care about. Mais oui, considering the situation, it's too easy to be caught worrying. But yes, I'd say if you don't hear anything, no news is likely good news." More tea is consumed before she leans to one side and sets the cold tea on the table next to her chair. "Well, I have inclination, so… I suppose I'll just keep at it."
"Ach, if I didn't worry or fret, I don't know wha' I woul' do wi' myself," Rahne points out with a wry smile, rolling her eyes a bit at her own expense. Clearly she has heard it many times that she should just relax and stop fussing about things, but it really just isn't in her nature. At least the cargo-versus-first class concern is a minor one. She nods a few times as Marie-Ange goes on. "Aye, keeping at it is probably the best way to get it done. An' if it were any less, yeh might be done it too soon, an' then wha' would yeh do with yourself?" she jokes.
"If you stopped fretting and I went through my research too fast, then we'd be two very bored people, wouldn't we?" Marie-Ange replies, summing up both situations with an equal dose of wry humour. There's a slanted grin given and then she adds, "But, yes, I think part of the problem, if you even want to call it that, is that it is so quiet here. In places like Manhattan, people are too busy worrying about the chaos there to get too bored, I would think. Here, we're a little isolated from it all, so we have opportunity to get bored or to truly focus on these preoccupations. Not necessarily bad, granted…"
"Aye, like having too many places where yeh're happy, I suppose being bored is the nice sort of curse to have," Rahne agrees with a grin, looking around the relaxing space. "When things get busy, I'm sure we'll be wanting to kick ourselves for ever being bored an' no' just enjoying the downtime." She shifts a bit in her corner of the couch, drawing a leg up under herself. "Tha' always seems to be the way of it. Like tha' old song, where yeh don't know what yeh have until it's gone."
Tucking her hair behind her ears, Marie-Ange chuckles and agrees with a nod. "Absolutely. It's why I try not to see it as boredom. It's… relaxation. Or downtime. When things get tough, you'll pray for some boredom." Or, well, she knows she would. Considering she knows what it's like to be in the midst of chaos, she believes this rather firmly. "Oh, that song sounds so sad, too," the French woman says, pouting slightly, then chuckling. "So, I try to stick as much into my quiet time as I can, even if it's meditation or a walk or research. Though, I've been enjoying getting back into the archery again. Have you tried that?"
"Aye, I think tha' it's human nature to take things for granted, but I guess we can be aware of tha' and try to appreciate what we have," Rahne muses philosophically. Of course, compared to most people, she probably wouldn't be accused of being unappreciative, Miss I'll-Fly-Cargo; but she can't see that. Her eyebrows lift a little at the woman's question. "Tried archery, yeh mean? Ach, no' really. Once in physical education class, bu' tha' was all. Does it help wi' relaxing?"
Nodding, Marie-Ange replies, "I think you're right. But we can fight human nature when we can, right?" As the teenager asks about archery, her eyes light up. "I don't know that I'd call it relaxing but it's fun. If you decide you're looking for something new at any point, feel free to join me. I'd love an archery partner." Even if it's not a two-person event like tennis might be, it's a good excuse to be more social, right?
"Aye, tha's true. Fighting human nature is the entire point of civilization, isn't it?" She certainly doesn't think that calling it human nature gets her a pass, anyway. As the topic shifts, Rahne gives a thoughtful cant of her head. "Ach, I do always like to learn new things. I migh' take yeh up on tha' one of these days, if things stay quiet around here. An' it migh' be good research for the book. I coul' make one of them an archer…" she muses to herself.
"Point," Marie-Ange says about human nature, then moves on. She brightens a bit more as Rahne seems open to the idea. "I'm no pro at it, but I am getting better and I enjoy it. I like the challenge of it. You might, too. Or you might find it's not your, how do you say… your cup of tea?" She's still picking up on some of the more well known colloquialisms known to the English language, but she's proud of using the ones she does know. "But yes, it could be research. What kind of a book is it?"
Rahne nods encouragingly as Marie-Ange gets the colloquialism right. "Yeah, there's no way of knowing unless I try. The one class wasn't really much of a chance to get a feel for it. An' half the kids were jus' goofing around anyway. It was distracting." Though from her grin, not really a point of complaint. Oh, those goofy kids. She goes a little more self-conscious as the book is asked about. "Ach, it's … a fantasy story. Probably a wee bit silly. Bu' archery woul' fit with it."
With a knowing nod, the older woman replies, "With archery, you need to lose the distractions. Focus is needed. So if there are people around you, distracting you, it can be hard. At least, when you're learning. I would think if it becomes known enough by you, that you could still do a good job with distractions — but that does take some time and practice, I would think. I can't say that I'm even there yet and I've been practicing a lot." As Rahne explains the story a bit more, she says, "Oh, that's not silly at all. Think of the greatest stories of all time: Robin Hood, King Arthur, Tristan and Iseult… all great stories, all fantasy, though some would argue they were based in historical fact. But that's another discussion."
"Aye, maybe wi' practice," Rahne agrees, nodding sagely. "But not after one period in class. Still, I do remember it being fun. Even if we spent most of our time trying to find where the arrows went." She chuckles quietly at the memory of hunting wily arrows. Her cheeks go pink as the topic turns back to her book, but she nods enthusiastically. "Ach, I love stories like tha', aye. There is jus' something so grand to them. Kings and Queens and magic… Knights. Fighting dragons and keeping order." She lets out a fond sigh.
Marie-Ange grins a bit. "That's half of it, I suppose. Much like a new golfer spends half his time looking for his ball, the other half trying to drive it out of sand traps. But it comes with practice, yes. So, there… you now have an open invitation to join me to shoot some arrows like fools whenever you'd like." Then she moves back to the story idea. "I understand the draw. Some of the greatest stories are firmly entrenched in common or not so common legend and lore. Faeries and dragons, ghosts and beansidhe. There are so many things to pull from old mythos into such stories. Perhaps looking over some of my notes might also offer some inspiration? Or any of the books I've been reading. I wouldn't mind, you know…"
"I suppose yeh could jus' say the hunt is part of the sport," Rahne suggests with an impish grin. It seems less like a chore that way, right? Fire the arrow, go look for it - all one big game. Her eyebrows lift at the offer for research material. "Really? Ach, tha' woul' be great, yeah. I've jus' been making most of it up so far, or basing it on other things I've read or heard abou' growing up, but to give it some actual history, that migh' improve it…" She grins. "Thank yeh. I really appreciate it."
"Well, that is quite the idea," Marie-Ange agrees to the idea of making a game out of the idea. "It might make that part of it not so bad, then." To the book and the research idea, she grins widely. "That's the spirit. And oui, vraiment. Really. You can come and look at my book collection anytime, and most of my notes that we can scrounge up, assuming you can read my chicken scratchings." She seems rather pleased that Rahne is open to the idea. "I would think any good writer would do well to base their work in some basis of reality or cultural histories and legends. If this can help add some extra levels and ideas to your story, I'd be happy to help."
"Ach, if yeh're sure yeh don't mind sharing them, I would be happy to try and decipher your writing," Rahne replies with a grin. "It can't be all tha' bad." She readjusts slightly in her seat, straightening up and then tucking her other foot under her as well. "I'm sure tha' it would help. Even if it's jus' to give me some ideas. They migh' as well come from real myths as from anywhere, righ'?" She seems content with this plan, reaching out for her notebook and setting it upon her knee.
Scratching at the back of her head in an exaggerated fashion, Marie-Ange looks around the room and whistles innocently. Then, chuckling, she looks back and says, "I wasn't exactly the top in my penmanship class or anything." They don't even teach penmanship anymore, really, so the message should be loud and clear. "But anyway, give me an idea at some point as to what you're interested in, even just a specific creature, myth or culture and I can dig up the right notes. Meanwhile, pop by my room at some point and browse the books on the shelves. There's, uh, a lot there to look through." That's no joke. She will soon need a bigger room just to house her collection. "Even if you don't use any specific myth, you might find one that gives you ideas for your own, non?"
Rahne just laughs at the woman's attempts to play innocent. "I will jus' have to do my best," she vows with a grin. Nodding a few times then, she makes a mental note of all this. "All righ'. I'll figure ou' maybe what direction I want to go in an' then I'll let yeh know. And yeh shouldn't be telling me tha' there's a whole new selection of books available to me. Now I'll never leave yeh alone," she teases. Though her love of books is no doubt common knowledge around here.
Grinning, Marie-Ange moves to stand from the chair, bending briefly to snag her ignored teacup. "Well, just let me know. I think I should go and get back to it before I lose the rest of the night, though. So long as you aren't knocking on my door at three in the morning, I don't think we'll have a problem." She stretches briefly, then says, "Anyway, good luck with the story. I look forward to hearing more about it sometime. Maybe once you're past this block. And, if you're willing?"
"Three in the morning? Ach, no," Rahne vows, scandalized at the very idea. Now five in the morning, maybe - but she's much more an early to bed, early to rise sort. Not many all-nighters for this one, so Marie-Ange is safe there. She hesitates at the request to hear more about her story, glancing uncertainly down at the cover. "Well … maybe," she agrees slowly, going a bit pink again. "Though it's rubbish right now. Yeh don't want to be reading tha'. Maybe if it improves wi' research though…" So far, she hasn't had the nerve to show anyone but Moira any of her writing. But perhaps things will change sooner or later.
"I'm sure it's not rubbish, but fair enough. I look forward to it if you choose to share it, then," Marie-Ange replies with a genuine smile. "And if not, I won't be offended. But I'm sure it'll be fascinating, regardless." She stretches slightly, then starts to move back in the direction she came from. "You enjoy the rest of your evening, alright Rahne? When you finally find your rest, may your dreams be filled with fantastical things," she offers up as a way of trying to wish her luck with her Muse.
