ℙablo Herrera Arjona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aojona) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2017-02-26 07:19 pm
aojona) wrote in maskormenacelogs2017-02-26 07:19 pm
Entry tags:
hungry for the kill, but this hunger, it isn't you
WHO: PABLO ARJONA and GABRIEL GRAY/SYLAR.
WHERE: Heropa, nearish Pablo's most recent work?
WHEN: Late February-ish.
WHAT: An elusive but insightful friend comes around to see Pablo.
WARNINGS: Will ETA as necessary.
[ Things have been complicated lately, and in a way Pablo feels more at a loss with how to deal with. He's adaptable, yes, maybe even more easily and readily so than most people, but some things even he still has some difficulty processing.
He likes to still believe in what he interprets to be good signs, but lately he can't help but feel less confident on that front; lying on his back on the landing of a fire escape, Pablo lets his head hang slightly over the edge so he can look upside-down at the painting (mixed media with the flowers, technically) he did of his sister. Normally something like this would unequivocally mean something good, surely, because after all he did make it on their birthday, but the fact he doesn't remember painting it is what concerns him.
Not because that never happens, but because of what the pattern of it happening lately has come to mean. It's hard not to see death and danger there, despite the fact that Dorothy isn't even here.
Whatever it does mean, he just wishes he could know for sure. ]
WHERE: Heropa, nearish Pablo's most recent work?
WHEN: Late February-ish.
WHAT: An elusive but insightful friend comes around to see Pablo.
WARNINGS: Will ETA as necessary.
[ Things have been complicated lately, and in a way Pablo feels more at a loss with how to deal with. He's adaptable, yes, maybe even more easily and readily so than most people, but some things even he still has some difficulty processing.
He likes to still believe in what he interprets to be good signs, but lately he can't help but feel less confident on that front; lying on his back on the landing of a fire escape, Pablo lets his head hang slightly over the edge so he can look upside-down at the painting (mixed media with the flowers, technically) he did of his sister. Normally something like this would unequivocally mean something good, surely, because after all he did make it on their birthday, but the fact he doesn't remember painting it is what concerns him.
Not because that never happens, but because of what the pattern of it happening lately has come to mean. It's hard not to see death and danger there, despite the fact that Dorothy isn't even here.
Whatever it does mean, he just wishes he could know for sure. ]
no subject
That's pretty.
[ The painting, is obviously what Gabriel means. His words are delivered quietly, barely scraping over their usual sandpaper monotone, the calm he affecting around Sarissa. Something like shyness, or elusive intellect. It's not a lie, all the time.
He is lower down, having only just slunk in through Pablo's blindspot to start a climb up the metal staircase. Familiarly dressed in black, more grain than he usually allows to shadow-grow on his face, a generalised vibe of unkemptness about him. Like he could use a shower. Or a hug. Maybe some food. ]
You said it was about your sister. I remember.
no subject
He doesn't smile, but Pablo rarely ever does; he's happy to see Gabriel regardless, not turning his head even to look at the painting when it's commented upon, though he nods to acknowledge that he did hear it. ]
Dorothy. [ Her name, because he doesn't know what else he should say. ] Although she's a lot prettier.
[ Pablo doesn't know how to take compliments, as usual. He falls back into brief silence, then looks at Gabriel a bit longer. ]
How are you?
no subject
[ He'd wager, anyway.
The sound and vibration of his approach continues on until he is on level, long legs in a controlled folding down as he sinks into a sit at the corner of the platform. It's not incredibly graceful, but it's not a complete collapse, anyway. ]
I'm great.
[ The joke is that he doesn't look it. Strikingly, even the least observant might find their eyeline pulled to the patch of white on his blackly attired person, the bandages on his left hand, covering and binding where a middle finger used to be.
He looks at Pablo, as if waiting to see something else beyond benign, unsmiling happiness. ]
How are you?
no subject
[ Idly Pablo taps the eye tattooed on his left hand with two fingers, though he doesn't seem to notice he's doing it; his gaze remains focused on Gabriel, shifting from his face to his bandaged left hand. Some kind of symbolic mirroring there, perhaps, or perhaps Pablo is so used to looking for patterns in everything he simply allows the thought to occur without committing his belief in it one way or the other.
Though his expression seems to remain as neutral as ever, Pablo sits up all the way and moves a bit closer, carefully touching Gabriel's left arm at the elbow and staring quietly for almost a minute before he finally speaks again. ]
What happened? [ His eyes flick upward again to meet Gabriel's. ] Do you need anything...?
no subject
The intact fingers on that hand twitch in a subtle fidget, as if to relieve some phantom strain. ]
You've been watching the news? [ The inquire isn't very innocent, a slightly mirthless waver and monotone even if it hikes up in the end to make it a question. ]