[Amelia looks at the envelope and then back at Gale. She contemplates his invitation, going over dates and other possible overlaps in her mind. The Aldanon Observatory does pique her interest, at least as a site worthy visiting as a tourist even if the sciences weren't her field.
It wouldn't be impossible to go. Her parents even owned a certain property in one of the nearby neighborhoods that would make her visit quite comfortable if she chose to take advantage when there was no bookings. More than that, this is clearly an important event for Gale and she sincerely wanted to support him.
Her eyes turn to her moving feet. She's calmed down somewhat now that she has the conference to take some space in her mind.
But there's only a few days left before the weekend and for once it fills her with dread.
She swallows and replies as steadily as possible.]
I'll have to make up my mind later, Dr. Dekarios. Something may come up out of nowhere, especially when it comes to my parents.
[There's a pause before she looks back at him with the smallest, but reassuring smile from her.]
But when I decide, you'll definitely know. I promise.
🌹📷✨
[It is a posthumous art show, displaying the works of the deceased photographer, Briar Thorne. Outside of the entrance, there is a banner with the show's name as decided upon by the artist before he passed on:]
"𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝒮𝒾𝓃𝓃𝑒𝓇𝓈"
[Taking place downtown in a smaller, but esteemed gallery space, a good number of people show up, many of them photographers, enthusiasts, and a few onlookers who approach the show with curiosity towards the subject matter and the photographer himself.
Stepping inside the well-lit room, another standing banner displays an image of Briar Thorne. He is a young man who was more beautiful than handsome, with a thin, delicate frame, a slim and effeminate face, and long pale hair. In the photo, he holds a camera up to his face, covering one eye, and the other, spring green looks straight at the viewer with a knowing and compassionate smile.
That compassion feels unnerving. That ghost of it can somehow be felt in one's very bones as if Briar had a keen interest even from beyond the grave and it draws everyone in.
On the wall to the left, is a blown up black and white photo of a field of flowers with his biography:]
"Join us for a momentous occasion as we honor the legacy of Photographer Briar Thorne in a special posthumous art show, 'The Garden of Sinners.' This exhibition pays tribute to a remarkable individual who used his camera to make snapshots of the lives of the 'sinners' of the world. In spite of, or because of this perceived sin, Briar Thorne gathered these moments like precious flowers to create a fantastical garden and left it for those of us who still remain to contemplate its inherent beauty.
Born in Southern California, Briar Thorne pursued the arts despite his weakening condition that prevented him from taking his photography to further heights. His body of work captured the attention of both online and print publications for its sparking imaginations and the inherent depth of emotion from its subjects and their photographer. Many admirers and critics agree that Briar was gone too soon and the world had lost an artist who was on the verge of blooming.
This collection was carefully curated by Briar before he passed on, based on his very detailed notes for how he wished his work to be seen. These cherished photos will be available for silent auction..."
[And it goes on with details for how the proceeds will be donated to a children's charity and so on and so forth. It's a paradoxically somber and lively show, starting with the tall dark woman who is in charge for the sign-in book and passing out pamphlets. And next to her is the taller, dark-haired... Oren...?
The woman is Jacqueline Berna Oakes and she is going to take an interest in the guest approaching them...]
and so it follows...
It wouldn't be impossible to go. Her parents even owned a certain property in one of the nearby neighborhoods that would make her visit quite comfortable if she chose to take advantage when there was no bookings. More than that, this is clearly an important event for Gale and she sincerely wanted to support him.
Her eyes turn to her moving feet. She's calmed down somewhat now that she has the conference to take some space in her mind.
But there's only a few days left before the weekend and for once it fills her with dread.
She swallows and replies as steadily as possible.]
I'll have to make up my mind later, Dr. Dekarios. Something may come up out of nowhere, especially when it comes to my parents.
[There's a pause before she looks back at him with the smallest, but reassuring smile from her.]
But when I decide, you'll definitely know. I promise.
[It is a posthumous art show, displaying the works of the deceased photographer, Briar Thorne. Outside of the entrance, there is a banner with the show's name as decided upon by the artist before he passed on:]
[Taking place downtown in a smaller, but esteemed gallery space, a good number of people show up, many of them photographers, enthusiasts, and a few onlookers who approach the show with curiosity towards the subject matter and the photographer himself.
Stepping inside the well-lit room, another standing banner displays an image of Briar Thorne. He is a young man who was more beautiful than handsome, with a thin, delicate frame, a slim and effeminate face, and long pale hair. In the photo, he holds a camera up to his face, covering one eye, and the other, spring green looks straight at the viewer with a knowing and compassionate smile.
That compassion feels unnerving. That ghost of it can somehow be felt in one's very bones as if Briar had a keen interest even from beyond the grave and it draws everyone in.
On the wall to the left, is a blown up black and white photo of a field of flowers with his biography:]
[And it goes on with details for how the proceeds will be donated to a children's charity and so on and so forth. It's a paradoxically somber and lively show, starting with the tall dark woman who is in charge for the sign-in book and passing out pamphlets. And next to her is the taller, dark-haired... Oren...?
The woman is Jacqueline Berna Oakes and she is going to take an interest in the guest approaching them...]