bridge it! (kurios) wrote in fableless, @ 2016-07-05 21:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! log/thread, bridget kluge, rachel mckenzie |
WHO: Rachel McKenzie and Bridget Kluge
WHEN: Summer 2012
WHERE: The Woodsbridge Institute of Art
SUMMARY: Alice meets the Queen of Hearts, aka Rachel is new to Woodbridge and meets Bridget as she's on her shift at the gallery. (BINGO PROMPT: First meeting.)
WARNINGS: No heads were cut off in the making of this log.
STATUS: Complete!
And that was another thing about living in a small town: there was so little history, so few places to go and appreciate culture. Rachel couldn't just hop on the train to Penn’s archeology museum when she got bored, or head over to the Franklin Institute with Aidan for his annual field trip. There was no historical section of the town, not like Olde City, and there was literally one museum/gallery in the whole of Woodsbridge. Rachel sighed as she pulled the door open and made her way into the lobby, trying not to get her hopes up about seeing a Degas or Monet or anything resembling Impressionism. But, desperate times called for desperate measures, and Rachel craved the peace she felt when walking through a gallery. When she got to the front desk to purchase her entry fee, no one was there. “Hello? Rachel called out hesitantly, before noticing the bell she assumed was there to indicate a customer’s presence. “Hello! Welcome to the Institute of Art.” Fresh from her bathroom break, Bridget warmly greeted the woman now standing in the foyer, even before she sat back down at the front desk. “How may I help you?” The gallery had been rather sparse in visitors that day; even though this meant fewer mundane tasks for Bridget, the gaping silences also meant that she had to man the front desk and accompany any visitors in a much greater capacity. “Hi,” Rachel flashed the receptionist a smile, and then blindly felt within her purse for her wallet. “Just one adult ticket, please.” She glanced at the sign that announced the fares for each patron group, and found enough cash to cover the cost. Out of curiosity, Rachel also took a map of the place to examine, and became distracted for a moment as she read about the exhibits currently on display. Okay. This actually looked kind of nice. “So,” she started, after receiving her change, “I’m really new to town, and I know almost nothing about this place other than the fact that it exists. Where would you recommend starting?” Once she had received and filed away the cash, Bridget leaned over to print the ticket and corresponding receipt, placing both neatly on the counter in front of the other woman. She expected that once the woman took her map, she would be on her merry way, and Bridget would be left idle at the front desk once more. However, this was not the case. “Oh!” Bridget began, mildly surprised. She was used to either locals or other Tales whose works had been spotlighted in the gallery, as those were the two main camps of visitors. “First of all, welcome to Woodbridge! You chose a good starting point,” she smiled, before taking out a gallery map of her own. She spread out the map onto the counter. “So, for the gallery, if you’re into a more chronological order, I’d start out on the East Wing---” she pointed to the right side of the diagram. “-- and make your way in a counter-clockwise direction. But if you’re pressed for time, I’d highly recommend the triple-A exhibit on the second floor: Art and Arms in the Arthurian Era. It’ll only be available until the end of the month, and it has these gorgeous tapestries, medieval artwork, and pre-Raphaelite paintings.” “I have the whole afternoon,” Rachel assured the girl, and could feel the smile grow wider on her face. Arts and Arms in the Arthurian Era sounded amazing. But, since she wasn't in a rush, Rachel decided to follow the girl’s suggestions. “Thanks, I'll do that,” she replied, pleased to have someone in town who knew anything about art. “Oh, and uh, thanks, by the way, for the welcome.” Rachel added, somewhat awkwardly. Because apparently she was an awkward person, now. That's what moving to a small town had done to her. “Great!” The growing smile on Rachel’s face was the mental reassurance Bridget needed that she was doing okay at her job. Sometimes visitors were a Russian roulette when it came to varying personalities: some were overly pretentious and perpetually unimpressed, some had ridiculous demands, some never stopped talking as if they were on a soapbox. “Well, my name’s Bridget, and I’ll be around the front desk if you need any assistance. The brochure also has a pretty well drawn-out map and descriptions of each exhibit.” “And not at all! It’s lovely to see new faces around these parts. Are you visiting here or are you moved in?” At the girl - Bridget’s - enthusiasm, Rachel could feel herself growing more confident once again. It always helped when people didn’t point out the awkwardness and just rolled with it. Like improv. And sure enough, it went away and Rachel was back to feeling like she hadn’t just completely put her foot in her mouth. “Definitely, I’ll let you know.” Right away, she flipped to the blurb on the Arthurian exhibit, but looked up when she realized Bridget had asked her a question. “I’m moved in. Well, in the process of moving in,” Rachel corrected herself, “but you know how it is, I’m sure.” Bridget gave a little laugh as she recalled the memory of moving to Woodbridge several years ago. Too many boxes were involved and being surrounded almost exclusively by people who lived and breathed the Tale life -- she couldn’t help but flash Rachel a sympathetic smile. “Oh, definitely. I moved a few years ago and --- the feeling of moving into a place is like trying to break in a new pair of shoes, you know? It takes a while to get used to.” “You can say that again,” Rachel nodded fervently. “Tales have never been a huge part of my life until now, moving to Woodsbridge and all, and, uh, I’m not completely at home yet.” She grimaced slightly and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth for lack of better things to do. “Where did you move from?” Rachel asked finally, curious about how other out-of-towners ended up here. “Napa,” Bridget started, though the little voice in her head urged her not to reveal too much, for fear of telling a long-winded story to a customer and a stranger. “So not too far from here! You could say I was always meant to be a Norcal person. Tales honestly weren’t part of my life until when I was in high school, though, and then I ended up moving here to study at the Academy.” “What about you?” Bridget inquired. “Whereabouts did you move from?” She wasn’t sure how far away exactly Napa was from Woodsbridge, so Rachel took Bridget’s word for it. That’s not to say that she’d never heard of it - you know, wine country and all that - but West Coast geography was still pretty new to her for now. “I’ve got about three thousand miles on you,” Rachel replied with a laugh. “I’m from Philly. This is my first time ever being west of Pittsburgh, never mind the other side of the country.” “Oh, wow!” Bridget looked surprised, but the pleasant sort of surprised, where she laughed along with Rachel. California could really be such a bubble sometimes. “You really ventured far to get here. We’ve definitely had New Yorkers and DC-ers and a couple Bostonians move out here, though I can’t say if I remember any Philadelphians. You might be the first, actually.” “It’s funny. I never intended to end up in Woodsbridge. I never even knew where it was until I got here maybe a month and a half ago,” Rachel admitted. She wasn’t sure why she was telling Bridget all this, but she felt some sort of connection with the girl. It was weird, actually. Rachel wasn’t sure if she’d ever had this kind of sensation before. “Tales just weren’t really part of my life. I didn’t want them to be.” “Yeah, sometimes life has its funny ways of bringing people here,” Bridget added. “I actually didn’t even know what a Tale was for the longest time,” she admitted baldly. She nodded, both as a listener and somebody who could -- in a way -- agree with Rachel, in the sense that she had never dreamt of being a Tale until it was confirmed that she was one. “If you’d told me that I’d be here amongst Tales, I’d have thought you were crazy.” Despite her normal curiosity, a vague hunch told Bridget that perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to dive right into the subject of each others’ Tales -- especially since Rachel had admitted that she hadn’t always accepted Tales in her life and that wasn’t exactly polite dinner conversation. “Well, at any rate, I’m glad that you found us on the map, and well, welcome again.” Rachel snorted slightly, feeling what Bridget said hit very close to home. “Thanks. I really didn’t mean to unload all of that on you,” she added apologetically. “No, I’m serious, no need to apologize,” Bridget insisted warmly. “The pleasure’s all mine. That said, I also don’t want to keep you here when there’s artwork here that’s more interesting than I am.” She flashed a self-deprecating smile at Rachel for reassurance. “Just let me know if you need anything. I’ll be at the desk.” |