[The letter is removed from the envelope, a short message written on card stock for her eyes only.]
They're polite requesters, if nothing else. I'm not obligated to go.
[But he's right about her not being able to refuse. She reads the message. And then without warning she puts down the letter and flyer and looks at Dr. Dekarios.]
Let's get some lunch. I'm hungry.
[Already, she's slipping on her jacket, preparing to leave.]
[Though it's hardly unusual for Amelia to be straightforward and concise, something about this particular instance hits him a bit differently. He nods at her suggestion, the envelope in his own hand momentarily forgotten, and while he steps aside to clear the way for her to head through the door first, he can't help but steal a glance at the flyer.]
Oh— this is for an art show, yes? A photography exhibit. I remember hearing about this not too long ago, it had actually caught my interest. Are these friends of yours involved?
[He almost regrets asking that last bit. Perhaps he should have left well enough alone, but the event itself seems fairly innocuous.]
[Even as he defers to her, he catches another glimpse of the flyer, spotting the bottom text this time, and even only seeing a fragment recontextualizes the situation.
For a few moments, he allows her to lead and follows along in silence, looking down at his own shoes before fixing his gaze straight ahead as he falls into step beside her. It is, understandably, a delicate subject, and perhaps he's pushing his luck by saying anything further on the matter, but—
He summons up the courage to make an offer as they walk, his voice soft so as not to be overheard by prying ears, as well as to show that he now understands the situation implies more than visiting the show for the sake of art appreciation.]
I could go with you, if you like. I apologize if it's overstepping to invite myself, and you're more than welcome to put me in my place, but the offer stands, should you wish it.
I don't know if I'm going or not. And you don't have to do anything.
[Amelia looks right in front of her as if Gale was barely there at all. An invisible distance is starting to take hold and she's faraway from his good will and concern.
It's cold, hollow, and most of all, tired.]
Just go if you want. You don't need me there to explore it.
[Even when they had first been trying to learn how to behave around one another at the university, Gale doesn't think he had seen Amelia so distant, and it gives him pause.
Dare he press more? Perhaps he ought to leave well enough alone.]
Of course. The offer will stand should you change your mind, regardless.
[He'll neither press nor rescind. Whoever this show was in memory of, they had clearly left quite an impact on her, and he notes how weary she sounds.]
[He had been interested even before knowing there was a personal connection to the event— learning that has only made him that much more curious, though this is clearly something that will need to be spoken of delicately.]
I— look forward to attending.
[With or without her, he still intends to do his part to support the arts, but there's more to his saying so. Should she decide to go herself and in need of a friendly face, he'll be there.
He slows his own pace to keep up with her. He won't hound or allow this to spoil their lunch, but brushing it off entirely seems a little too cold. Instead, he gently steers things in a slightly different direction.]
I actually came to your office today with the intent of offering an invitation of my own, but... perhaps now is not the time.
[He clears his throat softly as he holds up the envelope he'd been carrying, smiling just a touch sheepishly.]
It may not necessarily be of interest to you, and of course there's no obligation, but that conference I mentioned a few days back— it was a bit misleading to say I would be attending. I'll be there as a featured speaker, in fact.
[Given Ariel's recent remarks in that interview that had been published at the start of the semester, he's glad for the opportunity to publicly speak about his own work and perhaps take hold of that narrative once more. Thankfully, nothing more seemed to have come of Dr. Manx's subtle efforts— yet.]
The organization hosting it offered me a few complementary passes. Tara will be presenting on a panel, so she doesn't need one, and I thought— perhaps if you need a breath of fresh air or a change of pace, you might like to come. It's at the Aldanon Observatory and Museum of Sciences in Neverwinter, so there's plenty to see, but I do understand that your winter break is already looking to be quite busy.
[And perhaps she's simply not interested in hearing him talk about stars, which is certainly valid.]
[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.
๐น๐ทโจ
[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:]
"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...]
[Gale had done just a little research on the event before attending— and in the end, he arrives on his own. Though uncertain of whether or not he would see Amelia here before the day was out, his interest in the show on its own merits was quite genuine, the sentiment behind it moving and the intention to give all proceeds to charity a more than worthy cause.
Even from the entrance, one can hear the lively, pleasant chatter of those who are already inside and enjoying the display, a bittersweet note sounding in many of those voices. The banner bearing the visage of the artist himself is striking, exuding warmth the way photography that truly captured the spirit of its subject sometimes could.
Gale is composed and respectful as he makes his way to the desk where the guestbook awaits, dressed sharply without being overly formal, and as he approaches, he realizes he recognizes the tall gentleman behind it— and, as it so happens, the woman beside him, though the two of them have never spoken. She had made an impression in her own right, that night he and 'Eva' had first met.
He tips his head slightly, offering a polite smile of greeting as he reaches for the pen to sign his name.]
[Oren, being the silent fellow he is, gives Gale a nod of acknowledgement. Berna looks at him with a sunny beam and she stands up to walk around the table and up to him.]
Dr. Gale Dekarios! Yes, I am a Ms. Oakes, but I much prefer to be a Berna instead.
[And without asking, she links her arm around his, pulling him further into the gallery. She calls over to Oren.]
You can hold down the fort, right? Of course you can. Will be back in ten, alright Oren?
[It sounds dismissive of her, but there's an innate understanding between Berna and Oren. The latter doesn't seem to mind at all. Meanwhile, Berna turns her attention back to Gale.]
I cannot believe Amelia kept me away from you for so long.
Well, that takes care of introductions, doesn't it? Berna, then.
[Even having come to expect Berna to be quite take-charge and full of energy, both from that initial first impression and all Amelia has told him about her friend, Gale finds himself taken by surprise as she takes her arm and begins to lead him off.
He clears his throat to collect himself and raises a hand partway to bid a momentary farewell to Oren, then offers Berna his full attention as she leads him into the gallery proper.]
I don't know that it was an intentional keeping so much as—
[He interrupts himself, course-correcting to ask:]
She's mentioned me, then?
[Was there any way to ask that and not sound like he's still in secondary school? He doesn't think so.]
[Oh, there is a great deal behind that smile, Gale is certain, and he makes an effort to remain composed, though he feels just a tiny bit of heat come into his face and ears. So much for remaining detached.]
Perhaps. It's difficult not to be a little bit curious, private as she is.
[He can certainly respect being a private person, as he's one himself to a certain extent, but he's positive both he and Amelia are very aware of the fact that there's a great deal that goes unsaid between them, words and thoughts carefully avoided for what they had both decided was the greater good.]
Indeed I am, but it appears I don't need any of my persuasion powers to make you talk.
[Dr. Dekarios is terribly easy to read at least in regards to Berna's dear friend of many years. There's no missing the heat that flushes his face and ears and she covers her laugh with the back of her hand.]
Our charming redhead, on the other hand, keeps her cards close to her chest... Or so she'd like to think. It depends on the person.
[There's a shrug and then she continues while leading him to the first room. The collection of works are pairs of pictures next to each other, one showing a child and the second showing their grown counterpart 10-years later. All pairs are accompanied by descriptions and thoughts from Briar.]
If it's any reassurance, she has expressed very little negativity about you, except for that time when you texted her after your first, ah, meeting.
[Yes, meeting. She can be discreet ok]
That left her perplexed, but she ultimately concluded it wasn't a bad thing. You can applaud her for that.
[He can only let out a soft chuckle and nod in response to her assessment of Amelia; it is exactly as he has observed her to be, as well.]
That is reassuring, yes.
[He pauses to clear his throat again at the mention of their first meeting. He had known previously that Amelia had offered Berna all of the details of that encounter, but coming face-to-face with that fact in the flesh was still rather disarming.]
For what it's worth, I'm glad we were able to smooth things out. It was quite a comedy of errors.
[He uses the term 'comedy' loosely, mind. His pace slows as they enter the first room and he sees the way the photos are displayed, a faint smile crooking his lips to one side.]
[Berna removes herself from Gale's arm, allowing him to peruse the photos freely while she stands by his side. She's quiet before replying to his assessment of the work.]
Yes. Yes he did.
[Now, her voice is less boisterous and more serenely somber.]
I knew him. We both did, but I met him later when he was making some headway into professional photography. Amelia knew him since they were children.
[Gale gives her a sidelong glance as her demeanor shifts, then turns his attention to the writing posted between the pair of photographs, clasping his hands together behind his back now that his arm has been freed.]
She mentioned that their families were close friends. She said she didn't know if she would be attending, but given the history... I can see why doing so may be difficult.
[He knows her reasoning must run deep, but it isn't his place to pry. She'd let him tell her of his own troubles in his own time, and he trusts she will do the same, should she wish to share.]
Even as a stranger looking in, it's a lovely memorial.
His family would be happy to hear that. And so would he.
[There's a pause as her eyes gaze at the paired photos and then the description.]
"Many of these photos weren't intentional. The individuals pictured in their younger state were taken when I myself was a child, playing around with a disposable camera. When my condition further weakened, I decided to use whatever time I had left to track down the subjects and take their photo. I wanted to show the extreme contrast in the passage of time and the gap that had grown between the time of the first picture and when I finally found each person in their current state.
The gap between each photo is an unwritten story only they can tell."
[There's one last photo in this area that is strangely without a partner. Before they move onto it, Berna remarks to Gale.]
I assume she's never mentioned him at all, has she?
Edited (sorry for the million edits) 2024-09-05 15:57 (UTC)
[Berna, observant as she is, doesn't miss how Gale conducts himself and how he responds to her words about Briar and Amelia. She's known several men over the years and tends to have a keen eye for any warning signs that tell someone to stay clear.
Gale Dekarios has very little to none of them at all. Amelia may have said little, but what she's told Berna is true; sincere to his core to the point where the artist can tell why it drives her friend away. To be that open meant being more vulnerable and being more vulnerable meant more chances to hurt.
That is her battle to fight. Berna is here to guide and shed some light, nothing more.]
He was taken from us far too soon. Briar was a gentle soul and incredibly empathetic despite his limitations. In a way, it made him even more determined to see and capture the life he saw in others because his days were quickly dwindling.
Look.
[She points to the single picture that isn't paired up. It's blurry and clearly unprofessional, given touch ups so that it can match the dimensions of the others. In it, is a young girl who's spinning so fast, one can barely make heads or tails of her limbs and light freckles.
But that red hair is unmistakable.]
"I didn't want to pair this one up. I wanted to make my own story with her. I don't want to forget a thing."
[He listens intently; he worries that any response he could give might feel too trite, but he notes, to himself, that the same has been true for so many creatives who have left their mark— sometimes, those whose lights burn the brightest burn out all too quickly, but it would appear that Briar had chosen to make use of his time as best he could. To find beauty, to spread joy, to tell stories.
He allows Berna to direct his attention to the next photo and something in his gaze softens. There's no mistaking its subject, and he does not need a companion picture to know precisely what she looks like now, burned into his memory as she's been since they met.
The caption only confirms what he had begun to suspect, and he gives a faint, bittersweet smile.]
I understand.
[What Berna had wanted to communicate to him. What Briar meant to imply. Maybe, in his own way, how Briar himself felt.]
It's a beautiful sentiment.
[One he wonders how Amelia might respond to, strong as it is. She should see it, he thinks, but he cannot imagine any world in which doing so would be easy. As the pieces come together, he suddenly finds he understands her a bit better, and he turns his head to look back to Berna, both earnest and curious.]
If you don't mind my asking, how long ago did he pass?
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sunfloras2024-01-21 09:17 pm
no subject
[The letter is removed from the envelope, a short message written on card stock for her eyes only.]
They're polite requesters, if nothing else. I'm not obligated to go.
[But he's right about her not being able to refuse. She reads the message. And then without warning she puts down the letter and flyer and looks at Dr. Dekarios.]
Let's get some lunch. I'm hungry.
[Already, she's slipping on her jacket, preparing to leave.]
no subject
Oh— this is for an art show, yes? A photography exhibit. I remember hearing about this not too long ago, it had actually caught my interest. Are these friends of yours involved?
[He almost regrets asking that last bit. Perhaps he should have left well enough alone, but the event itself seems fairly innocuous.]
no subject
Berna knows about it, but she's not involved, not directly anyways.
[At the bottom of the flyer, the last line reads:
Amelia's voice cuts through.]
Dr. Dekarios, let's go. We've only got an hour, yes?
[If she sounds short, that's because she is exuding it. She doesn't even wait for him and starts walking ahead.]
no subject
[Even as he defers to her, he catches another glimpse of the flyer, spotting the bottom text this time, and even only seeing a fragment recontextualizes the situation.
For a few moments, he allows her to lead and follows along in silence, looking down at his own shoes before fixing his gaze straight ahead as he falls into step beside her. It is, understandably, a delicate subject, and perhaps he's pushing his luck by saying anything further on the matter, but—
He summons up the courage to make an offer as they walk, his voice soft so as not to be overheard by prying ears, as well as to show that he now understands the situation implies more than visiting the show for the sake of art appreciation.]
I could go with you, if you like. I apologize if it's overstepping to invite myself, and you're more than welcome to put me in my place, but the offer stands, should you wish it.
no subject
[Amelia looks right in front of her as if Gale was barely there at all. An invisible distance is starting to take hold and she's faraway from his good will and concern.
It's cold, hollow, and most of all, tired.]
Just go if you want. You don't need me there to explore it.
no subject
Dare he press more? Perhaps he ought to leave well enough alone.]
Of course. The offer will stand should you change your mind, regardless.
[He'll neither press nor rescind. Whoever this show was in memory of, they had clearly left quite an impact on her, and he notes how weary she sounds.]
This is... clearly a very personal matter.
no subject
[With a heavy sigh, Amelia slows her brisk pace and reaches up to tighten her hair tie that keeps her ponytail in place.]
It'll be a beautiful show.
[She sounds certain, if resigned.]
But judge it for yourself. I've seen a lot of the work, but I think... There will be some parts I haven't seen.
[And she's afraid of what she'll see.]
no subject
[He had been interested even before knowing there was a personal connection to the event— learning that has only made him that much more curious, though this is clearly something that will need to be spoken of delicately.]
I— look forward to attending.
[With or without her, he still intends to do his part to support the arts, but there's more to his saying so. Should she decide to go herself and in need of a friendly face, he'll be there.
He slows his own pace to keep up with her. He won't hound or allow this to spoil their lunch, but brushing it off entirely seems a little too cold. Instead, he gently steers things in a slightly different direction.]
I actually came to your office today with the intent of offering an invitation of my own, but... perhaps now is not the time.
no subject
Oh? What sort of invitation?
[It's enough to take her mind off the art show for a minute at least.]
no subject
It may not necessarily be of interest to you, and of course there's no obligation, but that conference I mentioned a few days back— it was a bit misleading to say I would be attending. I'll be there as a featured speaker, in fact.
[Given Ariel's recent remarks in that interview that had been published at the start of the semester, he's glad for the opportunity to publicly speak about his own work and perhaps take hold of that narrative once more. Thankfully, nothing more seemed to have come of Dr. Manx's subtle efforts— yet.]
The organization hosting it offered me a few complementary passes. Tara will be presenting on a panel, so she doesn't need one, and I thought— perhaps if you need a breath of fresh air or a change of pace, you might like to come. It's at the Aldanon Observatory and Museum of Sciences in Neverwinter, so there's plenty to see, but I do understand that your winter break is already looking to be quite busy.
[And perhaps she's simply not interested in hearing him talk about stars, which is certainly valid.]
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...]
no subject
Even from the entrance, one can hear the lively, pleasant chatter of those who are already inside and enjoying the display, a bittersweet note sounding in many of those voices. The banner bearing the visage of the artist himself is striking, exuding warmth the way photography that truly captured the spirit of its subject sometimes could.
Gale is composed and respectful as he makes his way to the desk where the guestbook awaits, dressed sharply without being overly formal, and as he approaches, he realizes he recognizes the tall gentleman behind it— and, as it so happens, the woman beside him, though the two of them have never spoken. She had made an impression in her own right, that night he and 'Eva' had first met.
He tips his head slightly, offering a polite smile of greeting as he reaches for the pen to sign his name.]
Good afternoon, Oren— and Ms. Oakes, yes?
no subject
Dr. Gale Dekarios! Yes, I am a Ms. Oakes, but I much prefer to be a Berna instead.
[And without asking, she links her arm around his, pulling him further into the gallery. She calls over to Oren.]
You can hold down the fort, right? Of course you can. Will be back in ten, alright Oren?
[It sounds dismissive of her, but there's an innate understanding between Berna and Oren. The latter doesn't seem to mind at all. Meanwhile, Berna turns her attention back to Gale.]
I cannot believe Amelia kept me away from you for so long.
no subject
[Even having come to expect Berna to be quite take-charge and full of energy, both from that initial first impression and all Amelia has told him about her friend, Gale finds himself taken by surprise as she takes her arm and begins to lead him off.
He clears his throat to collect himself and raises a hand partway to bid a momentary farewell to Oren, then offers Berna his full attention as she leads him into the gallery proper.]
I don't know that it was an intentional keeping so much as—
[He interrupts himself, course-correcting to ask:]
She's mentioned me, then?
[Was there any way to ask that and not sound like he's still in secondary school? He doesn't think so.]
no subject
Oh, here and there.
[If Berna sounds deliberately casual to keep Gale in suspense, that's because she is.]
Amelia can hold onto her personal affairs like she's keeping state secrets. Of course I can eke them out of her when I want to.
[And that's because Berna is relentless. The artist smiles at Gale knowingly.]
Are you curious about what she's saying about you during off-hours, Doctor?
no subject
Perhaps. It's difficult not to be a little bit curious, private as she is.
[He can certainly respect being a private person, as he's one himself to a certain extent, but he's positive both he and Amelia are very aware of the fact that there's a great deal that goes unsaid between them, words and thoughts carefully avoided for what they had both decided was the greater good.]
I do hear you are very persuasive.
no subject
[Dr. Dekarios is terribly easy to read at least in regards to Berna's dear friend of many years. There's no missing the heat that flushes his face and ears and she covers her laugh with the back of her hand.]
Our charming redhead, on the other hand, keeps her cards close to her chest... Or so she'd like to think. It depends on the person.
[There's a shrug and then she continues while leading him to the first room. The collection of works are pairs of pictures next to each other, one showing a child and the second showing their grown counterpart 10-years later. All pairs are accompanied by descriptions and thoughts from Briar.]
If it's any reassurance, she has expressed very little negativity about you, except for that time when you texted her after your first, ah, meeting.
[Yes, meeting. She can be discreet ok]
That left her perplexed, but she ultimately concluded it wasn't a bad thing. You can applaud her for that.
no subject
That is reassuring, yes.
[He pauses to clear his throat again at the mention of their first meeting. He had known previously that Amelia had offered Berna all of the details of that encounter, but coming face-to-face with that fact in the flesh was still rather disarming.]
For what it's worth, I'm glad we were able to smooth things out. It was quite a comedy of errors.
[He uses the term 'comedy' loosely, mind. His pace slows as they enter the first room and he sees the way the photos are displayed, a faint smile crooking his lips to one side.]
Our artist had an incredible eye.
no subject
Yes. Yes he did.
[Now, her voice is less boisterous and more serenely somber.]
I knew him. We both did, but I met him later when he was making some headway into professional photography. Amelia knew him since they were children.
no subject
She mentioned that their families were close friends. She said she didn't know if she would be attending, but given the history... I can see why doing so may be difficult.
[He knows her reasoning must run deep, but it isn't his place to pry. She'd let him tell her of his own troubles in his own time, and he trusts she will do the same, should she wish to share.]
Even as a stranger looking in, it's a lovely memorial.
no subject
[There's a pause as her eyes gaze at the paired photos and then the description.]
[There's one last photo in this area that is strangely without a partner. Before they move onto it, Berna remarks to Gale.]
I assume she's never mentioned him at all, has she?
no subject
I can't say that she has. As you yourself said, she does not speak of herself or personal matters easily.
[His gaze moves to another photo, though they have yet to reach the one missing its partner.]
That she hasn't tells me he must be very important to her, indeed.
[There's no judgment or suspicion in his voice, only calm observation, understanding.]
no subject
Gale Dekarios has very little to none of them at all. Amelia may have said little, but what she's told Berna is true; sincere to his core to the point where the artist can tell why it drives her friend away. To be that open meant being more vulnerable and being more vulnerable meant more chances to hurt.
That is her battle to fight. Berna is here to guide and shed some light, nothing more.]
He was taken from us far too soon. Briar was a gentle soul and incredibly empathetic despite his limitations. In a way, it made him even more determined to see and capture the life he saw in others because his days were quickly dwindling.
Look.
[She points to the single picture that isn't paired up. It's blurry and clearly unprofessional, given touch ups so that it can match the dimensions of the others. In it, is a young girl who's spinning so fast, one can barely make heads or tails of her limbs and light freckles.
But that red hair is unmistakable.]
no subject
He allows Berna to direct his attention to the next photo and something in his gaze softens. There's no mistaking its subject, and he does not need a companion picture to know precisely what she looks like now, burned into his memory as she's been since they met.
The caption only confirms what he had begun to suspect, and he gives a faint, bittersweet smile.]
I understand.
[What Berna had wanted to communicate to him. What Briar meant to imply. Maybe, in his own way, how Briar himself felt.]
It's a beautiful sentiment.
[One he wonders how Amelia might respond to, strong as it is. She should see it, he thinks, but he cannot imagine any world in which doing so would be easy. As the pieces come together, he suddenly finds he understands her a bit better, and he turns his head to look back to Berna, both earnest and curious.]
If you don't mind my asking, how long ago did he pass?
no subject
[It's a longer period than one would expect, but short enough to still leave its effect on those who knew him best.
And as if reading his mind...]
She's here you know. Amelia. She arrived hours before anyone else did.
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