Penrose Shapiro (skinsample) wrote in theinvincibles, @ 2015-07-03 23:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, dylan cooper, pen shapiro |
Who: Dylan Cooper [Jell-O] and Penrose Shapiro [Hufflepuff] (honestly this is why we shouldn't let the DMS pick our codenames)
Where: The Atrium
When: Saturday, July 4th. Mid-morning.
What: Just two young ladies putting up decorations, making those pesky messes, and trying to feel normal for a bit.
Warnings: Warnings will be listed if/when they appear during tags.
As much as Pen tried to argue it, she really was not an incredibly interesting person. Boring seemed to just about do it, and she was probably better suited to hang around a bunch of 50+ middle-aged folks than she was others in their teens and twenties. It didn't help much that she lacked in certain social graces no thanks to her wild rollercoaster of an upbringing and how that impeded her skills in making lasting friendships of people her age. But she tried. Quietly sensitive, longing to belong, she was aware she was going to always be a bit of an odd duck. Small things reminded her that she didn't necessarily succeed in a lot of areas. Sometimes Evariste said something that knocked her down a peg or she forgot she left her shower seat in the tub and had to remove it at the request of her roommates, and though they were incredibly understanding of her needs, it was still a bit embarrassing. This place was filled with bullies. Agents versus Metas, Alphas and Betas versus Deltas. Sometimes as much as you tried, you really couldn't win. It was okay, she figured, sometimes dejectedly but more often resolutely. Because she had worlds in her head that she liked to dream upon, she was capable of a thousand things and was proud of each and every one of them. And even as dorky as she was, holidays like the 4th still granted her opportunities to show off what made her so proud. Starting around six in the morning, her hair pulled up in a sloppy bun, her oversized shirt reading NOVA SCOTIA and swallowing her shorts, and her favorite converse sneakers on her prosthetic feet, she'd gone about covering the Atrium with boxes of decorations she'd crafted over the last few years, from bandana banners to star-spangled flower pots to paper lanterns. After what happened this past week, people needed festive. They needed cheer. Around ten, she sat down, perched over at the vegetable garden and drinking from her water bottle. She was only halfway through, but it looked good so far. |