contact//messaging//¿por qué hacer eso?

[treadingdawn]

[Click.]

[Is this for real?]

[Why yes. Yes it is.]



Hello. Um, this is Caspian--

[BEEEEEEEEEEEP. Sultry woman's voice:]

Hola. Caspian del buzón de voz está roto. Esta es su refrigerador.
Por favor, hable muy despacio y voy a mantener su mensaje a mi mismo con un imán!
Gracias.

[BEEP. End automated message.]

LABEL MESSAGES AS TEXT, TXT MSG, OR AUDIO. EVERYTHING IS PRIVATE, NO PARTY LINES.
Action for Narnia crew, anytime, anywhere, or pre-arranged with anyone else.

Comments

[actione;]

[lionesssejant.livejournal.com]

[She smiles a little shyly. Yes, of course she knows that he is sorry. So is she. It just seems strange to walk about as usual. But what else is there to do?]

I'll show you.

[Takes a clean piece of paper and folds it one, two, three times and begins to cut, cut, cut. And now, unfolding.]

This is what snow looks like up close.

[actione;]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

Watch out he's invading your personal space, peering over her shoulder to see exactly what she's doing. Then Caspian remembers himself and pulls back, just slightly. He doesn't say the word but he mutters it mentally, sorry. It seems he feels there are many things to apologize for. Big things and little things. But they know that don't they? Why dwell when there are snow flakes to make. It might sound silly coming from Caspian, but he has to stare at the paper shape now that the cuts have been made.

"Is it, really? I suppose I never took the time to look."

[actione;]

[lionesssejant.livejournal.com]

His intense observation is a standard Caspian trait. Susan laughs at the awkwardness that his action and apology bring. They have known one another for quite a long time. Long enough to be beyond apologies. Even though they exchanged many heartfelt sorries, it doesn't seem to be enough. She should do more to say and show. Whatever it might be.

Ah. Then there are snowflakes.

"The designs are very, very small. I'll show you if we can find a microscope." She sets aside the finished flake to start anew. "Would you like to try?"

[actione;]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

Caspian glances to the left and then to the right, as if the Magnificent or the Valiant are nearby, able to catch word of what he is about to do, and he would much prefer Lucy discover this before Peter. It isn't that he abhors crafting art, far from it, he really only hopes no one ever finds out how far. Peter already knows a part of it. No need to privy him to this. Let Susan be the only witness. He takes a seat next to her, slowly and comfortably. The wound on his torso is sore but not unliveable.

"You will have to show me how again, I think," Caspian offers a sheepish smile, "sorry."

[actione;]

[lionesssejant.livejournal.com]

"I'm sorry I went so fast. I'll go again."

Her folding is careful and slow. She holds it up after each press to show the angles at which it is to be done. Susan will give him snowflakes for his first real Christmas, as Lucy calls it. Even with what has happened, she'll make sure it is the best yet. Maybe that is what is needed. A real Christmas.

Folding is complete. Now for the scissors. As though a demonstrative surgeon, Susan makes her cuts slowly with even more care than before. The other pieces fall across the table making its own small snow bank.

[actione;]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"No, you didn't," he insists with a smile.

He watches with the meticulous attention of a student to a teacher. Caspian has always been like this when learning something new, especially from a teacher as patient and understanding as Susan. He memorizes the angles and folds, executes them at a steady pace like he is crafting something out of silk. A piece of nice card stock paper is no different from a canvas. And then he takes his own pair of scissors, held still at first to watch how she does it, then he follows. It's quiet enough that the sound of the blades cutting through the folds is pleasantly audible. For now he duplicates her direction, unaware of the several levels of intricacies one can cut out of a sheet.

[actione;]

[lionesssejant.livejournal.com]

She watches, very pleased at not only his attentiveness but how he takes to the task. There are few times, very very few that Caspian would refuse anyone anything. He goes at everything with all of his heart, something she has know. In this quiet moment of paper cuttings it shines more clearly and helps that bobbing feeling in her chest ease greatly.

"Yes! You've got it. Now, open it up." Susan is just as eager to see it as he is to give it a try.

[actione;]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

Well he has a little trouble with opening it at first, because the cuts have manipulated the folds and turning the paper has disoriented what he remembers folding, but Caspian does so, wondering if it will look like what Susan has crafted. This is not the same as shooting pine cones, or acorns, but hesitating is a bit like mistaking one for the other.

"Like this," he asks her with a smile. The Telmarine has seen drawings of what snowflakes are supposed to look like before they melt upon landing. This is a little bit different but no less symmetrical and geometrically sound.

[actione;]

[lionesssejant.livejournal.com]

"I don't think I've seen one this good from someone on their first try." Flattery it isn't. Susan is absolutely sincere. She'll give a compliment gladly with arts and crafts. Archery, that's something that needs to be earned. Susan holds up her own snowflake and puts them side by side. It's a job well done.

"We should put your name on it somewhere, so we can know that one was your first."

[actione;]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"Well I had a good example to follow," he replies in an absolutely sincere show of genuinely complimentary flattery. Did that make sense? Then Caspian laughs, but it is short and brief, good humored and never mocking. "I don't think that is necessary, but I can make more with you if you'd like."

The Telmarine considers trying different patterns. Some will work, some won't at all. Then he asks again.

"What are you going to do with them," he tilts his head, gaze on the paper shape then shifting to Susan.

[actione;]

[lionesssejant.livejournal.com]

"Oh yes, I would like help. We haven't had an opportunity to go out and buy many Christmas decorations. I figured we could put them around the house. Maybe keep them up until the new year."

There's got to be another pair of scissors--ah, there we are. Caspian has his own pair. Susan splits the pile of papers between then.

"And I like making them." Likes something to do.

[actione;]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"It would be like snow inside the house, but without the chill or the frost," he adds with a nod, rather liking this plan. Caspian considers making smaller ones too, to better match the petite and delicate structures of real snowflakes although he is mostly unfamiliar with them. He starts to fold the papers, thinking of what he can say that doesn't start with I'm sorry or ends with it for that matter. So he asks a question.

"What else do you like to make?"

[actione;]

[lionesssejant.livejournal.com]

"I...never thought of it like that. I agree, Caspian. And this snow won't melt. At the worst, there'd be a paper cut." Best warn him, those can be quite uncomfortable. How unnecessarily awful she'd feel if he got one after asking him to help.

"Clothes are fun to make. I've taken up sewing again. We would do it a lot at home. Buying new clothes doesn't make sense when you can fix the old ones." That was Mother's motto. And with growing children in a time when money needed to be stretched, it was not something to argue with. Mother knew what she was talking about.

[actione;]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"A paper cut," Caspian asks curiously. He hasn't received one yet, but just wait. Eventually he'll settle into an auto-pilot mode, thinking he's overcome a learning hurdle, and then he'll find that all too annoying slice through skin. But for now he is content to cut and cut and converse and cut with the Gentle.

He makes a face at what he doesn't know is Mother Pevensie's motto. The Telmarine is one for enjoying fineries whenever the opportunity shows itself. Why turn such things down if no one else needs them more or chooses to voluntarily possess them? This is not the same as being spoiled is it? He was a prince since birth, after all. Things were different then, and different even now because he is still a bit unaware of what those children truly had to go through before finding themselves tagged and headed towards the countryside. He does not know what it took for his friends to be where they are now beyond legend and what they tell him themselves. But Caspian does know that Susan wears a gown well.

"Have you always made your own gowns," the brunette asks with a smile, because that would be impressive. Of course he is also unaware of mass production where wool skirts and burgundy blazers are concerned. What he does remember are the embroidered blues and whites, the quilted lavenders, and layers of colored linens even under her cuirass. Don't think he hasn't looked so closely at your form before, Susan.

[actione;]

[lionesssejant.livejournal.com]

She has a few paper cuts, only one troublesome enough to have a band aid. It's flesh tone, hardly noticeable. Yet another snowflake is finished. She sets it with care among the others. How nice they look in varying sizes!

Even though it has been quite established that Caspian is, and always will be, a very dear friend. His attention to detail of the quiet, simple things like clothes or actions are all too charming not to consider them dear. Who has time to make a whole closet of clothes? What confidence he has in hers skill!

"No, not always. A few. I made a sundress one summer." Thinking on the topic Susan stops and looks around. No Lucy in sight. Very good. She leans in to whisper. "I'm going to make Lucy a Christmas dress. She asked for one, I think that if she got two--one from Father Christmas and one from me, she would be so pleased."

[actione;]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"You must have looked beautiful," he remarks with a tilt of his head, and then another inquiry, "did you ever take a picture?"

While the technology is completely foreign to Narnia, Caspian has learned of it here and knows they have such things as cameras and photographs on Earth. Peter has mentioned them before. Marius has referred to them in paint studies. Surely a moment like that, Susan in a sundress in summer is worth a photograph. What the Telmarine doesn't say is that he has always been curious about their lives on Earth, how do they appear and what do they do when they are not in Narnia? Running into Peter in his school uniform is a bit different, as that place was neither here nor there, he was not in that element. Sometimes he can tell the blond is glad to not be in that place, but Susan is different. Susan is always integrating what she knows of that place here, and sometimes that place in Narnia. There is a difference in the way brother and sister approach the same issue.

"And I am sure Lucy would love it," he whispers quietly too, and Caspian is almost curious to poke and prod, to find out what her brothers will be receiving.

[actione;]

[lionesssejant.livejournal.com]

Caspian thought she'd look beautiful in a dress he's never seen. Susan's face felt a little warm in her cheeks. "Thank you. Yes. I wore it to a picnic we had." As opposed to trips to the shore. It was safer to stay close to home that is until it wasn't any longer. "There were a lot of photographs of us actually. Mum would send a few to Father. I think it would be wonderful if we had a camera."

Then these happier moments would last forever in someway. No worry at all. They wouldn't know of those moments tainted by dark wintry magic. Caspian should have photographs too.

"I think that the clothes around the City are awful different. Even for at home." They're no doubt at all different to Caspian's usual clothing. Although it is good fun to see him in a pull over and slacks.

[actione;]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"Oh?" He sounds with the same amount of interest. Caspian would like to see these photographs sometime, if that was even possible, and if he didn't think Peter and Edmund would probably prefer him not to. It isn't the same as childhood photos though, not if they were taken within the last year right? At the same time the Telmarine fails to recognize... any photo taken from the last year would be a Pevensie returned from their fifteen year reign. Perhaps that wouldn't be such a charming photo, maybe something earlier, something before Narnia. Is that too personal? It would be like having the brunette show them an old room full of toys to keep a boy busy while the rest of the court diagnosed his mother, or an old study secluded from the rest of the castle.

"I would bet someone in this City has a camera and knows how to operate one. Zach is familiar with the kind that captures moving pictures," he explains with a nod. Don't ask him about it though, the technical aspects the geek gave him flew over his ridiculously nice hair.

"They are different," Caspian adds, immediately interpreting home as Narnia, "but I have to admit some pieces are quite comfortable." Like boots, jeans, a button down, and a nice wool coat over a hoodie okay.

[actione;]

[lionesssejant.livejournal.com]

"That's an excellent idea! We could have pictures taken here. And we could share them. If they're with us when we leave, then they'll have to come." Susan hopes that it doesn't sound as though she thinks of leaving the City often. No, not that much truly. Though it crosses her mind. What if she wakes up to the sound of someone walking down the stairs too loudly, and she must be ready for school? There has to be more than just a memory for this place and all the fun they have now.

Taking a break from snowflakes, Susan decides to make a people chain. Maybe someone can draw faces on them.

"Some are more comfortable than others. A lot of girls wear trousers. And very short skirts."

[actione;]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"I would not let my photograph escape me," Caspian says in a manner that almost makes it an oath, which to some extent it is. Were he to have his own copy of such a photograph he would keep it near him and do what he can to make sure it returns to Narnia with him when he must go. Not if, when. And from what he's seen, photographs are far easier to transport than a painting, not to mention more comfortable where sitting is concerned.

Rather than make a people chain, he continues to work on snowflakes, angling the blades in such a way that each cut commits to his memory so he can learn from all the pieces and make a snowflake that resembles a flower.

"Do they," Caspian asks, distracted at first by what appears to be a more lotus-shaped snowflake in his hands. Then he looks up to Susan and quirks a brow. "Trousers and skirts... at the same time," he says while laughing--oh this time the rib hurts, but it's brief. Perhaps it's karma for laughing because by all technicalities, Caspian has also worn breeches under a brown wrap.

[actione;]

[lionesssejant.livejournal.com]

"Neither would I." She'd know just where to place it. It would be carefully folded in a kind of pouch. The sort that were worn in Narnia for precious things. A locket would be too small. Susan would wear it all the time in the City. Just in case.

Now that he mentioned it, Susan laughs at her own mistake. She might have seen one girl do something like that once. That only makes it more funny. Seeing that he's hurt his ribs, Susan tries to hold it in. Likely helping to stop Caspian from hurt. "You know what I mean."

Those snow flakes are taking on a brand new demeanor entirely with Caspian's hand in them. The house will look wonderful when they're done!