insertmeathere | Second Chance Meme!

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Second Chance Meme!

Okay, rocks fell, everyone died. Too bad, valiant meatshippers! But the good news is that you've all be reincarnated!

...as baseline humans on modern Earth.

Maybe you're waiting at a coffee shop, and you spot someone out of the corner of your eye that looks strangely familiar. Maybe instead of strangers from universes far apart, you and your close CR are now childhood friends who have always been together. Maybe you meet a former enemy as a friend, or a former friend is now a bitter enemy.

Are you a college student? A high-powered lawyer? A kindhearted schoolteacher?

What would your life have been like had you been born under different circumstances, and you met your fellow crew once again? If you had a second chance? Would you still fall into the same habits, be a victim of the same misfortunes? or would you use the opportunity to be someone completely different?

1. Post with your character, or tag someone else.
2. Set up the scenario you want to explore!
3. ???
4. Meme!

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[is a twenty-year-old art major at an urban university, who can be found sketching on campus, catching a show at a nearby theater, at the museum, etc.]

[It's inadvertent, but she announces herself by squeaking. Actually, that's the balloon flower she's made, and offers out to him.]

What're you drawing?

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/56712133@N04/5867729752/)He caught sight of the balloon flower first, out of the corner of his eye, looking puzzled for a brief moment before he glanced back to find that really pretty drama student he kept seeing around.

"Um. Just... a landscape. You know."

Oh, great. Spectacular.

[She smiles, and leans over.] Can I see it, or is it a secret until you're done with it?

"Uh, sure."

He just hands it to her, with no additional comment; man, is he ever bad at talking to people. He was telling the truth; it's clearly a picture of the stand of trees nearby. But the sketch is more focused on the small city sparrows hopping around through the underbrush.

[She doesn't say much to begin with, though she does hand the flower over--clearly intending it for him. It's a daisy made of three balloons, one white for the petals, a yellow one for the flower's center, and a green one for the stem. Her smile only broadens at the drawn birds, and their real counterparts on the ground not far away.]

That's really good. I've seen you around the art building, right?

Zouichi looks more embarrassed than anything else; he doesn't know how to handle praise. "Thanks. Um, you're in the drama department, right?"

Wait, was that creepy? He hoped it wasn't because augh.

He takes the flower, although he's not quite sure whether he should hold it or try and put it into his bag. No one's given him a balloon thing since he was like... eight or something.

Yup, I am. I'm Allie. [Offering him another bright grin at that. She'd probably offer him a hand too, but his are full now.]

This one of your favorite spots to draw?

"Kind of. Although I like the spot behind the gymnasium better -- not too many people walk by, and it's near that wooded area, so sometimes you even see like a fox or chipmunks come by. I think there's a family of foxes back there; I saw one or two kits one time. I haven't seen them since, though, so maybe they moved."

Wow, that's the most she's gotten out of him yet. He seems to realize this. "...I'm Zouichi. Um, nice to meet you."

[And that just gets a big smile out of her. All of it, about the foxes and getting his name, too.]

It's nice to meet you too! Officially. Since y'know, we've seen each other and all.

Oh, hey, can I have your flower back for a minute? [She just had a wonderful idea. At least, wonderful to her...] I'll give it back to you, I promise.

Wait, 'each other'? He hadn't realized she'd noticed him around, too.

"Sure." Zouichi hands her the balloon flower, curious. She has a nice smile.

[She pulls a Sharpie from her pocket as she takes the flower, writing a block of small, neat print and numbers near the base of the stem, and then hands the balloon back to him, still smiling.]

I have to go to class for a bit, but call me, Zouichi! [Capping the marker with a satisfied smile on her face, and waving at him as she walks towards the drama building.]

alaskjdflsjdkf

He has no idea what she's doing until she actually gives him the flower back, and then he just kind of stands there frozen in place. Oh, god, what is he supposed to do with her number?

Okay, she had specifically told him to call her, but... what the hell was he going to say? "Oh, hi, I thought you might want to listen to me ramble on some more about baby foxes, I don't think I did that enough the last time we talked"?

He bumped his forehead against the wall of a nearby building, sighing.

"You shouldn't be practicing your still-lifes. It's motion you have trouble capturing," Eva says, not bothering to ask if she's intruding. He's a student here and after a few middling years of losing interest in her job and empty nesting when Marco left home, she decided to apply for a teaching position. She teaches introductory composition and the late night poetry seminar.

That doesn't mean she doesn't feel justified in meddling with other people's students, and having sat in on a few art classes she's well familiar with the art majors and their individual shortcomings.

Zouichi looks up; he skipped Intro to Comp with his AP scores, so he hasn't had Eva personally.

"Professor Salazar," he says, politely. "Can I help you with something?"

"You could knock a little bit of artistic vision into my poetry students, if you're capable of miracles," she says, sitting down next to him. "But, no. I'm just bored and curious. Don't worry, not all the professors bite."

Zouichi smiles, just a little. "Aren't midterms coming up soon? I thought most of the professors would be preparing tests or gearing up for grading."

He looks back out at the trees. "Sorry, I don't really know how to talk to poetry students. I was never really into it, myself."

"I hoped that by scheduling my poetry finals for the week before they all lose their minds studying, they'd actually put some effort in." She snorts, clearly unimpressed with the caliber of this semester's crop.

"That's a shame. You have a good eye for form. The senses between visual and oral arts are connected."

He laughs. "I don't know, maybe. But I can't really tell the difference between good poetry and bad. I tried taking a composition class last year, but it looked like it was going to be a semester of listening to people read stories about women running around naked on the beach after a bad breakup."

Zouichi would much rather read someone's sci-fi short story.

"If that was your reaction to it, it was probably bad. How long can people mine the break-up well, anyway?" She shakes her head. "A naked beach? Really? And sadly, that sounds preferable to whichever senior in your art department decides bodily fluids are still edgy for the presentation project."

"Well, they've been doing it for years. Like aren't most songs about breakups or relationships?" Especially songs.

He holds out a hand. "Please don't hold me responsible for what the modern art kids do. I can't understand what's so great about grass growing on an old mattress."

Zouichi's always been more about drawing and painting than, say, sculpture.

She rolls her eyes. "They are, aren't they? It's because you young people do all the writing. Once you've been married for a few decades you start to realize that 'I love every single thing you do' shouldn't apply to babying your manchild through doing his own laundry."

There's a trace of bitterness there. Her marriage hasn't been going so well for a few years now.

"Of course I'm going to hold you responsible. Smart kids like you should be setting the example, not fading into the background."

Zouichi blinks at her. "When you put it that way, I have so much to look forward to. Anyway, I thought most writing was done by 40-somethings and then performed by 20-somethings." Which made it all the more terrifying.

He sighs. "If people with a lot of time and money on their hands want to pay the price of a house for a sink that doesn't work, there's not really much I can do about it. I just like to draw."

"It's all downhill from there, young man," she says, but she's grinning. "Probably all writers just never matured past being 20-somethings."

She taps his sketchpad. "You're good at it. Trust me about that motion capture, though."

He frowns a little. "What do you suggest?"

Re: Kanoe Zouichi

vissernone.livejournal.com - 2011-06-25 22:45 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Kanoe Zouichi

zouichi.livejournal.com - 2011-06-25 23:44 (UTC) - Expand

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Second Chance Meme!

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