Gregor Vorbarra (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
vorbarra) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2016-10-01 01:54 pm
vorbarra) wrote in maskormenacelogs2016-10-01 01:54 pm
OPEN log; gymnopedie
WHO: Gregor Vorbarra and potentially YOU. Also probably a bunch of closed logs.
WHERE: Various.
WHEN: Throughout October (or backdated to September if you wish).
WHAT: Open prompts: whittling in public, handing out flyers for the Lucky Cat. Semi-open: practicing piano at the Residence. Also, I've started in prose but you're welcome to switch to brackets.
WARNINGS: Discussion of suicidal ideation with Miles.
ONE; OPEN. PARK IN HEROPA. WHITTLING.
The arrival of a new semester has, for the first time in years, meant something to Gregor. The only period in his life in which he'd had to care about the school year was the few years he was at the academy prep school; the academy itself ran year-round, and prior to that he'd had tutors, as befit the emperor. Since his military service it's been much the same. So, it's extremely novel for Gregor to be taking a class at all-- even his requisite academy time and service had been a farce of treating him as an equal that no one had come close to managing-- and he's thoroughly enjoying the chance to be only interesting by virtue of being an imPort. He'd try to hide that, too, except it tends to make people forgiving of his Russian-ish accent.
And there was a lot of talking with classmates in an artistic woodworking class. Yes, Gregor had deliberately chosen the most impractical, useless skill possible for an emperor to start with at his venture at De Chima Community College. This leads to him needing to spend a considerable amount of time practicing his whittling, and he does like to see things other than the De Chima countryside or the path from the Porter to the Lucky Cat and back.
As a result, he can be found in assorted locations around parks in Heropa, a quiet figure bent over a small chunk of wood he is (ineptly) whittling. At least he handles the knife comfortably. Vor often have boot knives, so he's not prone to hurting himself.
The figure itself? Anyone with a discerning eye might be able to tell it's approaching some sort of bird.
TWO; OPEN. AROUND THE PORTERS. LUCKY CAT FLYERS.
Standing politely nearby the Porter in each city at various times is a tall, lanky man with a prominent nose and dark hair. Gregor is the nice sort of flyer-pusher in that he doesn't push them at all; his t-shirt says most of the story for him, and anyone he makes eye contact with he holds up a flyer for the Lucky Cat Café in Heropa in question. According to the flyer, it's recently changed hands, and has a short note about trying to honor Cass's memory and keeping it running as she would've run it-- with a lot of autumn-appropriate sweets and drinks seasonally available, of course.
Or you can run into a sleek Russian blue cat primly sitting with its tail wrapped around its paws on top of the stack of flyers on a nearby table. Occasionally Gregor needs a break from such a highly social task. He's very unlikely to break 'character' and talk to anyone as a cat, though, unless they know about this already, so choose this option with that in mind!
THREE; SEMI-OPEN. THE RESIDENCE. PIANO.
Gregor has been taking private piano lessons via the community college for a bit over a month now, which means he's not very good at it yet, a fact he is completely aware of. He tends to practice on his budget, portable keyboard, set up in the living space of his suite in an attempt not to bother others as he goes through scales. This largely ends up being fruitless, as the piano is perfectly audible through the wall.
He'll be sheepish, not annoyed, if he's interrupted. He hasn't quite come to grips with doing a hobby that's more performative than poetry, something he's had little difficulty keeping completely private throughout his life. An instrument sort of demands an audience, whether he wants one or not. Gregor has yet to get comfortable with that fact, but at least his faltering hands are graceful as they move over the keys.
FOUR; OPEN. WILD CARD.
Fill in the blank! Hit me with your best shot.
WHERE: Various.
WHEN: Throughout October (or backdated to September if you wish).
WHAT: Open prompts: whittling in public, handing out flyers for the Lucky Cat. Semi-open: practicing piano at the Residence. Also, I've started in prose but you're welcome to switch to brackets.
WARNINGS: Discussion of suicidal ideation with Miles.
ONE; OPEN. PARK IN HEROPA. WHITTLING.
The arrival of a new semester has, for the first time in years, meant something to Gregor. The only period in his life in which he'd had to care about the school year was the few years he was at the academy prep school; the academy itself ran year-round, and prior to that he'd had tutors, as befit the emperor. Since his military service it's been much the same. So, it's extremely novel for Gregor to be taking a class at all-- even his requisite academy time and service had been a farce of treating him as an equal that no one had come close to managing-- and he's thoroughly enjoying the chance to be only interesting by virtue of being an imPort. He'd try to hide that, too, except it tends to make people forgiving of his Russian-ish accent.
And there was a lot of talking with classmates in an artistic woodworking class. Yes, Gregor had deliberately chosen the most impractical, useless skill possible for an emperor to start with at his venture at De Chima Community College. This leads to him needing to spend a considerable amount of time practicing his whittling, and he does like to see things other than the De Chima countryside or the path from the Porter to the Lucky Cat and back.
As a result, he can be found in assorted locations around parks in Heropa, a quiet figure bent over a small chunk of wood he is (ineptly) whittling. At least he handles the knife comfortably. Vor often have boot knives, so he's not prone to hurting himself.
The figure itself? Anyone with a discerning eye might be able to tell it's approaching some sort of bird.
TWO; OPEN. AROUND THE PORTERS. LUCKY CAT FLYERS.
Standing politely nearby the Porter in each city at various times is a tall, lanky man with a prominent nose and dark hair. Gregor is the nice sort of flyer-pusher in that he doesn't push them at all; his t-shirt says most of the story for him, and anyone he makes eye contact with he holds up a flyer for the Lucky Cat Café in Heropa in question. According to the flyer, it's recently changed hands, and has a short note about trying to honor Cass's memory and keeping it running as she would've run it-- with a lot of autumn-appropriate sweets and drinks seasonally available, of course.
Or you can run into a sleek Russian blue cat primly sitting with its tail wrapped around its paws on top of the stack of flyers on a nearby table. Occasionally Gregor needs a break from such a highly social task. He's very unlikely to break 'character' and talk to anyone as a cat, though, unless they know about this already, so choose this option with that in mind!
THREE; SEMI-OPEN. THE RESIDENCE. PIANO.
Gregor has been taking private piano lessons via the community college for a bit over a month now, which means he's not very good at it yet, a fact he is completely aware of. He tends to practice on his budget, portable keyboard, set up in the living space of his suite in an attempt not to bother others as he goes through scales. This largely ends up being fruitless, as the piano is perfectly audible through the wall.
He'll be sheepish, not annoyed, if he's interrupted. He hasn't quite come to grips with doing a hobby that's more performative than poetry, something he's had little difficulty keeping completely private throughout his life. An instrument sort of demands an audience, whether he wants one or not. Gregor has yet to get comfortable with that fact, but at least his faltering hands are graceful as they move over the keys.
FOUR; OPEN. WILD CARD.
Fill in the blank! Hit me with your best shot.
no subject
The answer is simple, almost curt, and she turns around as if to end the conversation there, but that isn't the case. One of the boys was calling to her now -- without using her name, it can be noted, as she never gave it -- and she has a ball she has to return. She raises her hand in a wave, signaling to the boys to get ready, and sends the ball back to them with one sharp but well-controlled kick that bounces off the ground just enough so they can trap it. With a wave of their little hands they go back to their own practice and she sighs softly with relief at being released before turning back to Gregor.
"I just met them today when I caught their ball. I am not from around here."
And, because he started by asking a question first, and she can afford these little curiosities now, "Is that a bird?"
no subject
"It's an attempt at one. I suppose it's encouraging if you can identify that," he says wryly. "... I didn't mean to interrupt your game."
He feels badly about pulling her away from that, if that's what's happened. Gregor perhaps places a little higher importance on casual school-age socializing than he really should.
no subject
She's a little relieved. It may just be against kids, but -- no, it's probably because it was against children that young that she feels so uncomfortable playing the sport. She doesn't want to ruin it for them, because her soccer was dangerous. Not that this stranger needs to hear that sort of talk. Instead, she grasps for a change of topic.
"Is it all right if I ask to see it? Your bird."
no subject
"Ah... certainly." Gregor stays seated, a lanky form folded up onto the bench, and hands out his carving. His opposite hand has his switch knife in it, but he's already folding it away one-handed with the unthinking care of someone accustomed to sharp implements.
"It's surprisingly hard to do without reference. I thought I knew what birds look like, but I'm starting to rethink that."
no subject
"Even if you weren't with a reference, it looks really nice. I haven't seen birds before here in a long time..."
Well, she had penguins. But they were also in astronaut suits, so she wouldn't be able to do anything about a real penguin in real nature.
"Is it a specific type of bird?"
no subject
"Did they not take to your planet?" he asks frankly, his casualness belying how normal of a question that would be at home for him. "We had some trouble with Earth animals ourselves, though we did get birds. I hadn't decided yet if it would be a specific one." It's hard to carve a bird without both of his partners coming to mind, and he'd ended up indecisive. But here he sees a potential way out of his indecision.
He glances at her. "Would you like to suggest one?"
no subject
This man doesn't. It's the first time someone has referred to her original world as a planet, and it's so surprising to her she snaps her was up and stares at him to see if he was someone from her post she simply failed to recognize. But no, she can't match up his face to any she spoke to. He was incredibly ordinary looking compared to some of the bizarre characters she encountered then. Besides, he didn't seem to recognize her. She concludes that he must be from a world in which people talk about planets like they'd talk about cities or countries. She bites back a rising urge to ask him about it, about space and his planet and the others, and instead turns her gaze back to the bird in her hands.
"On Aliea, I spent a majority of my time inside training. If birds lived there, I didn't get to see them."
It's with a wistful tone that she says those words, but as she runs her thumb across the wooden body, her expression softens further, a little warmer.
"The only bird I really know is a penguin, but they aren't the right shape for this. If it's a bird that can fly freely, maybe one that is red."
no subject
"Well..." He has some soft humor in this voice. "I don't have any skill in painting, but I take your point. I'll have to acquire some ornithology books." He spends enough time at the library as it is, that's no problem.
After a moment's pause, Gregor goes on, "Do people ordinarily spend their time indoors on Aliea?" He doesn't stumble over the name. It could be that the weather (such as on Beta Colony) or the atmosphere (such as Komarr) would be too uninhabitable for comfortable long-term residence.