maskormenacelogs

Entry tags:

crafty.

WHO: Haen, Marty
WHERE: Endeavor Youth Center
WHEN: Mayayayayyyy
WHAT: C R A F T Y
WARNINGS: NO

Marty's being here is really all credit to Rex -- otherwise, the Darkov would still be lingering inside the house, idle and increasingly anxious for lack of things to do. The notion of being put in a big room with human kids doing activities isn't really the idea of good use of time in Martin's mind, but the reality is it's not...terribly far from the sort of concept living with his own family is. It's hard to admit the similarities, easier to cling to the glaring differences: these kids aren't here to learn how to hunt, fight, or kill. They're...

...They're making things out of popsicle sticks and glue.

And so is he.

He'd have tried to protest and remark that this kind of thing is for kids younger than him, but he honestly doesn't know how old he is. So who is he to argue? If the soccer practice is over, and Rex still isn't back from his job, then Martin's kind of at a loss for things to do. This is...fine.

Sort of.

He's...not actually sure what he's supposed to be making. Nobody picked for him, and, what? He's supposed to just pick for himself out of these little templates?

He frowns down at the pile of sticks set out in front of him, his mind trying to conjure up a decent enough reason for him to not be doing this. But seeing as this is probably one of the most harmless things around, it's...hard to argue.

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Haen makes it a personal point to remember and meet as many of the children coming to the Endeavor Center as she can. The original aim of the Center, after all, is to be a haven for Maurtia Falls youth who might otherwise stray into less favorable ways to spend their time, especially with the city being as criminally inclined as it was.

Martin hasn't garnered any specific attentions yet by the children, who might be taking a more keen interest if they'd realized that an imPort of their own age was right there. Haen takes a seat across the table in one of the brightly coloured chairs from Martin and gives him a warm smile, setting down her own pile of wooden sticks and glue in front of her.

"Hoping for inspiration, dear?"

Just out of reflex, Martin straightens up, startled by his sudden guest. Of all the kiddie tables in all the center, she came up and plopped down at his. And she's no kid, either.

"Um."

He grimaces, looking back down.

"Maybe? I don't know. I don't actually...get what these are for?"

Perhaps Martin has a magnetism he doesn't know about? If she finds the question odd, it doesn't show.

"They're for building whatever you feel like. Personally, I thought I'd try a little boat today! You know, I'd never seen a boat before I came here. I'd seen pictures, but not a real one. Actually there were a lot of things I'd only ever seen pictures of before I arrived. Downsides of living in a Tower, you see, it's all about cramming as many people inside as you can, and less about... well, most everything else. I'm Haen."

Whoa.

A deluge of words and information, capped off with a name — at least, he thinks that’s a name. Haen could easily be a species? Martin’s learning there’s a great deal of nonhuman people walking around suspiciously similar to humans...

He stares at her blankly for a beat, trying to process all of that. Boats, towers...

“Oh...” It’s a weak response, but he’s still processing all that. He blinks. “Um. What’s a Haen?”

And to think, that's actually less verbose than Haen's been known to be... His question is answered with an impish wink though, and she begins laying out the general shape of a boat hull with some of the wooden sticks: a pointed front end for the bow, squared for the stern.

"I'm a Haen," she responds. "Sorry, dear, I should have been clearer, but that's my name. What's yours?"

"Oh." He colors a little, embarrassed by his honest mistake. His head ducks down after a little nod. Name, of course. Obviously... Has anyone else introduced themselves as a species besides him? Stupid.

"Sorry. I'm Martin." A pause. "Hello."

Haen applies glue to the ends of the sticks, pressing her fingertips to them firmly to set them. "Don't worry about it Martin," she replies, offering him the glue. "It's very nice to meet you. Is this your first time here? I'm glad that the Center has something to offer imPorts as well."

Huh?

His head pops up, eyes big with surprise. "How did you-??"

His eyes flicker down to his hands, tilting them and exposing the strange tattoo this place gave him. Oh...right... Of course. Anyone who has that is supposed to be an imPort, too...

He shoots a wary glance toward her own arms to spy much the same.

"Oh..."

"Was I not supposed to know?" Haen inquires, looking genuinely concerned that she may have outed him against his wishes.

Maybe something to take his mind off it? She moves the framework of her popsicle stick boat so it's sitting on the table between them. "If you can't think of what you want to build, would you like to help me with mine?"

"N-no, it's--I mean." His eyes wince as he looks back up. "I just...didn't expect anyone to notice. Or, or bring it up, I guess...I don't know. Sorry. Um..."

He's never surprised that he can bungle up a conversation in under two minutes, but he's never happy to, either. He gives up with a weak sigh, his hands withdrawing to gently cling onto the edge of the table as the little boat frame is slide closer his way.

"I don't know how. I'd mess it up."

"Mm-hm, then you're lucky I don't accept that kind of negativity! You wouldn't go around telling the other children here, would you? That they shouldn't even try at something because they might not be good at it? No, because that would be cruel. So you definitely shouldn't say it about yourself either, dear. Let's see about building up the hull, we'll just go around the base I've got here."

Martin's cheek turn a darker pink at the kind admonishment, embarrassed.

"I, I don't mean to say anything about the people here," he utters, picking at a stick before retracting his hand again. "I only meant...I mean, I'm just being honest. I don't really know anything, is all, s-so--"

"Oh meiosis but you're adorable," Haen giggled. "This is a place for people to come and learn. That's what Petyr envisioned for it, and what I try to make happen. Not knowing something is nothing to be ashamed of, dear. It's an opportunity."

An opportunity, huh...? Similar to the coaxing and encouragement he's been getting from Anderson and Archie. Rex, too, in his own ways -- though that's less about fitting in as it is just making do. Arts and crafts aren't really covered in making do...

"Well, um." He exhales, working to accept this popsicle stick fate. "If...if you tell me what to do, I can do it. Or try."

That Martin agrees to give it a try earns a very bright beaming smile, and she doesn't even have to say anything, just sort of auras approving positivity in his direction. The effort is far more important than the outcome, is what is being conveyed.

"How about we follow the same shape, and let's build up this frame. Glue on the ends of the sticks, yes just like that, and press it down gently... right there."

"Alright..."

Even after a single demonstration under her instruction, he's hesitant still, his hands returningfar out of reach from the supplies or the project before them, instead taking time to observe what she's doing. It's just...building, right? Just. Very tiny.

Only once he's seen this happen four proper times, nearly five, does he actually move to emulate her on his own, still hesitating to make sure nothing has changed in the pattern. He doesn't ask for assurances in the midst of the process, because doing so risks breaking focus, but silently and sternly fixes all his attention on doing things as right as he can remember doing. Only after he's done does he lift his eyes up to check and make sure he didn't go astray.

Haen nods when he lifts his eyes; it's not empty praise, but he's done it exactly as she would have done that row of sticks (slower, perhaps, but the end result is what matters). "Nicely done dear," she confirms, her smile ever steady and bright.

"I think we're getting close to where we should make the deck. These sticks should be easy, we're just going to place them all horizontally, so they go from this edge to this edge, nice and flat."

Obediently, Martin affixes pieces where she points, neither questioning nor wondering the why in the design. He's never seen a boat -- what would he know about it?

Even so, he does start to wonder, and it slows him down until he stops, withdrawing his hands from the last piece he placed.

"...Boats are for the water," he says, looking back up. "Is this going in the water, too?"

"It would be nice if it would could," Haen answers wistfully, pushing it gently along the tabletop with one finger as if watching it sail. "I suppose we'll see if it floats when we're done, hm? Truth be told dear, I haven't really built one of these either."

"Is that why you came here?" He frowns a little, squinting at her. "To make a boat?"

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crafty.

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