Back on the Doghouse Again...
May. 13th, 2011 01:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
[The doghouse in the backyard of 1126 Taylor Road is turning into Tarvek's personal little corner. He sits on the roof, with just enough shade from a shade tree, and just enough sun, and the doghouse has a flat peak, so he can sit comfortably cross-legged. He's there, today, far more sober than he's been in awhile, in more senses than one.]
[The kids run back and forth, as usual. Tarvek's got Perry mowing the lawn again. Catherine's been on the swings, and then jumped rope for awhile, and then she sat on Tarvek's lap for a bit, and now she's kneeling on the patio drawing with sidewalk chalks, because "Daddy" is up on the doghouse roof drawing himself. He's working in a soft drawing pencils -- wide, flat-leaded ones, slim ones with well-sharpened points. He's drawn the children. He's got a good eye and hand: he trained as a draftsman, of course. Most sparks do. But he's also semi-canonically an actual artist, both sculpture and painting. His drawings of the kids seem to race across the pages of his notebook.]
[But the big picture he's drawing is of someone who is no longer there, and who no longer exists. She's a bland, gentle-faced, vacuous blonde with a pretty smile, a perky nose, a classic 50s wave perm, and a dress that's trim to her upper body, but floofy around the hips and legs: all petticoats and floral print. He's drawn her as though she's just beginning to turn to leave, raising one hand to wave as she goes.]
[The kids run back and forth, as usual. Tarvek's got Perry mowing the lawn again. Catherine's been on the swings, and then jumped rope for awhile, and then she sat on Tarvek's lap for a bit, and now she's kneeling on the patio drawing with sidewalk chalks, because "Daddy" is up on the doghouse roof drawing himself. He's working in a soft drawing pencils -- wide, flat-leaded ones, slim ones with well-sharpened points. He's drawn the children. He's got a good eye and hand: he trained as a draftsman, of course. Most sparks do. But he's also semi-canonically an actual artist, both sculpture and painting. His drawings of the kids seem to race across the pages of his notebook.]
[But the big picture he's drawing is of someone who is no longer there, and who no longer exists. She's a bland, gentle-faced, vacuous blonde with a pretty smile, a perky nose, a classic 50s wave perm, and a dress that's trim to her upper body, but floofy around the hips and legs: all petticoats and floral print. He's drawn her as though she's just beginning to turn to leave, raising one hand to wave as she goes.]
[Her name was Betty. She was his drone wife. He wasn't in love with her, but he found her gentle, silly, sweet, well-intentioned, and likable. Like all drones replaced by "real" people, she's disappeared without a trace. Not even her photos in the house remain. Her children don't remember her. There's no sign in all of Mayfield she ever lived. Tarvek and his quick little pencils are trying to remedy that.]
You are walking, flying, etc. You see Tarvek, sitting on his doghouse, drawing soberly. His kids bustle around the back yard. Inside you can hear someone new, singing beautifully. Tarvek looks up from his work, sees you, and waves, calling to you in friendship, whether you're a stranger or an associate.
What do you do?
no subject
Date: 2011-05-17 09:33 pm (UTC)Ooooh. Twenty-two years of school? and... you got to just study what you wanted while you were thinking what you wanted to do?
I was at college in Paris for a year or so. Had...
I had to go home. Family... trouble.
[Clearly chooses to just bomb past that.]
I had to make alternate arrangements in the end. [Sudden glint of sharp teeth and the flash of implied steel.] I am, however, a doctor. They didn't manage to take that from me.
[Stretches.] It's nice out here. Do you mind if I take off my jacket? Nothing implied beyond enjoying the weather, I promise.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-17 10:02 pm (UTC)Other arrangements are hard to come by in my world. I think you should talk to Hakkai, he's trying to make sure there's a list of medical personnel and healers available. If you would like.
[ She smiles at the last bit ]
As long as you keep the boxers on, you shouldn't be in trouble with the police.
[ Wishing she had sunglasses, noting to look for them next time she's shopping. ]
no subject
Date: 2011-05-17 10:13 pm (UTC)Did you know they say it's never raining here? Or snowing? One more proof it's not a natural, real environment, but I must admit, I grew up with enough rain and snow to make this wonderful.
I'd love to work as a doctor. But... probably not till I'm either more certain I can avoid slipping into spark-thought, or until I get my spark back. It would be bad enough to start screaming, "it lives, it lives," without following up by screaming and writhing on the operating theater floor.
I might make a fair nurse or medic, for now. Can you introduce me? Or tell me where to meet this Hakkai?
no subject
Date: 2011-05-17 10:24 pm (UTC)The weather control is impressive, I admit. It makes me think this is a simulation more than anything else here. We barely have the chaos mathematics down well enough for long-range forecasts at home, [ she then quickly grasps his arm ] don't ask, I don't want you getting a headache here.
[ She gives an apologetic smile, ] There's time yet, for the control to come along. I've been trying to introduce you to him for a while, since he's my assigned husband. His schedule at the hospital has been a little erratic.