Ozma (boyprincessofoz) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2018-08-27 21:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, feyre archeron, ozma |
Who: Ozma and Feyre
What: Running into each other at the park
When: Recently
Where: Some park
Rating/Warnings: None really.
Status: Complete when posted.
Okay maybe taking the Sawhorse out to the park hadn’t been the easiest way to start her day off, it was a bit of a hassle getting him into her car, but now they were here and he seemed to enjoy getting to explore more than her house and the tiny strip of yard in front of it while she sat on a park bench and watched. And yes she did enjoy the weird looks people kept giving her pet as if they weren’t quite sure what they were seeing. She knew he wasn’t anywhere near normal. She just wished people would quit coming up to her and asking her where the control was and accusing her of lying when she said there wasn’t one. Maybe she should start telling them it was done through an app on her phone but then she’d have to pull it out and be looking at it and not just enjoying today. No matter which way she looked at it it was a losing situation for her.
***
It had been a slow art day. Feyre had barely made enough to get something to eat for herself, so she was about ready to pack up and go home and make sure her sisters weren’t spending their dad’s disability on something that wasn’t necessary.
It was so stressful. And her dreams were only adding to her stress. Trapped across the Wall in the Fae kingdoms with no escape? It grated on her. It was better than dying, but not by much, and while she could try to make it back across the wall some magical creature would eat her before she got there.
Or worse.
She frowned as she realized she’d been painting Tamlin this whole time. A great beast stalking in front of the Spring Court. He was handsome, though, when he wasn’t in beast form, and she supposed he wasn’t that bad.
She almost didn’t catch the … sawhorse. That was prancing around. “What the fuck?”
***
Ozma was torn out of her thoughts by hearing that question and she looked around for a moment before her eyes fell on the artist near her and then she followed her gaze to see her staring at the sawhorse and she grinned. “He’s mine. He’s a sawhorse just like he looks.” She said a little hint of amusement coloring her voice.
***
Feyre blinked her eyes, setting down her paints before she gave into the urge to paint something ON the sawhorse. First ghosts. Then this? Orange County was trying her, wasn’t it? “...it’s like something Tamlin would do to impress me.”
***
“Tamlin? I don’t know who that is.” Ozma said, curiously, holding her hand out to get her pet to come over towards her. “Someone who lives here in Orange County?” If so and they could do something like this...maybe they’d be able to help repair him if her Sawhorse ever did get damaged somehow.
***
“Just a guy,” she replied, finding herself flushing just a little bit at the thought of him. “A really fancy ass guy, but just a guy. He’s… not around here.”
And part of her didn’t know how she’d feel about it if he was.
***
Ozma raised one eyebrow when she noticed the way the other other woman flushed, curious but at the same time trying not to push too hard since she didn’t know this girl. The Sawhorse came up to her and she smiled at him. “Don’t go off to far.” She told him quietly before turning her attention back to the other woman.
“The fancy ones tend to be trouble so it might be for the best that he’s not. We have enough trouble around here without that.” She joked. “I’m Ozma.”
***
Feyre wasn’t really the blushing sort, but the right kind of person could make her face hot. Tamlin just happened to be one of them, “I’m kind of glad for it. Shades of… Stockholm syndrome.”
It was a genuine fear of hers and she couldn’t believe she’d actually voiced that thought to a stranger. “Anyway. I’m Feyre,” She said, pronouncing it fay-rah.
***
Ozma knew that there was a level of comfort in confessing things to a stranger that you might never admit to a friend or relative. Or at least there was for her. She bit back a laugh at Feyre’s choice of words - something in her sensing that the young woman meant them even though they sounded strange. “Pleasure to meet you Feyre,” Ozma said, pronouncing the young woman's name as close to the way she had as her accent would allow. “And that is The Sawhorse. I'm afraid my dream self isn't very creative when it comes to naming things. What brought you out here today?”
***
“I need to paint,” she said, shrugging her shoulder. “It’s not just because I enjoy it, but it helps with groceries.” She only sometimes felt ashamed of her situation. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t even her father’s fault, not entirely. Now that she knew more, she could blame Jaques Schnee for the bulk of it.
Not that she had any way of exacting vengeance.
***
Ozma blinked a little at the candidness the young woman answered her question but she shifted on the bench facing her more fully. “What kind of things did you find to paint here? If you don’t mind me asking of course. If you do - well I’ve already asked and you can feel free to tell me to piss off.” She said with a shrug as she brushed a strand of hair out of her face.
***
“People. I sometimes do caricatures and other things for people.” It was quick cash even if she didn’t like it that much to begin with. Why was she sharing this? Why was she being friendly? Right, being friendly tended to get her money, and if she scowled too much people avoided her.
***
“What about landscapes or commission work?” Ozma asked her, watching the sawhorse go running off again. Well...doing his version of running off which was more of a seesawing motion. Maybe she should try and see if some of Tip’s carving talent hadn’t crossed over so that she could give him actual joints in his legs. “Not of here but jobs you’ve gotten from here.”
***
“I’ve done landscapes, I’m still learning how to do commission work.” She was still trying to figure out how to make money doing this. Or if she could. Sometimes she wondered if it was worth it, but it was the one thing that was hers and hers alone.
***
“What’s been your favorite landscape you’ve done so far?” Ozma asked, curiousity getting the best of her as they talked about art. It was a harmless coversation, nothing too personal which was what you wanted in a situation like this right?
***
“Mountains, under a night sky,” Feyre said without thinking. It felt like.. Home, in a way she couldn’t describe. Like someone was showing her something from her dreams,a memory she hadn’t had yet. It didn’t make sense. The Spring Court was nowhere near the mountains. But it was home.
***
“That sounds beautiful. I always liked being outside the city back home. The stars seemed a lot brighter, clearer somehow. Would you mind showing me some of your work?” Ozma asked, glancing at the sketchbook in the young woman’s hand.
***
“I don’t mind.” Carefully, she flipped open the sketch book. She also had digital art on her phone, but it was harder to see that, and honestly, she preferred pencil, charcoal or paint better.
Digital just paid the bills a little better
Shyly, she asked, “What do you think?”
***
Ozma leaned in to see the drawing the young woman was showing her and her eyes widened. “That’s gorgeous. You drew that here?” She asked looking up at her face before back down at the paper.
***
Feyre’s face colored, but she nodded, “It’s not that good, but I don’t think it’s that bad.”
Her self-esteem and art didn’t get along.
***
Ozma gave her a gentle smile. “It’s a hell of a lot better than anything I could draw.” She confessed.
“I almost want to ask you to draw something with him in it for me.” She added, nodding in the direction of her pet.
***
“I could,” Feyre said, thoughtfully. She didn’t often do anything for free but Ozma seemed nice enough and maybe the challenge could help her improve her skills.
**
“How much would you charge me?” Ozma asked, head tilting to the side as she studied the other woman. Her gaze got torn away as she heard a noise coming from where the sawhorse had been and saw that he’d fallen onto his back, legs waving in the air and she laughed. “I’ll be right back. He could hurt himself if I don’t get him upright.” She still hadn’t figured out what to do if he broke one of his ears here. She moved away from the bench and knelt down, waiting for him to quit kicking to help him get back on his feet, ignoring the grumbling he was doing. “Well if you’d quit tripping over roots maybe you wouldn’t end up on your back so much. You need to be more careful when we’re at the park.” She told him as she checked him over to make sure he hadn’t cracked anything, not even batting an eye as he answered her. “Well maybe you should be paying more attention to where you tell me to play and I wouldn’t.” His voice was a little sassy but she didn’t mind it.
***
It was a bizarre sight and Feyre almost forgot to think about what she’d charge Ozma. She was grateful that Ozma had brought it up herself. “I take it he does that often?”
***
“At least once a day. More often when we’re out someplace than at home. But at least it’s something funny to see. So long as he doesn’t actually break anything.” Ozma said, walking back over to the bench and sitting down with one leg tucked up under her. “I apologize for his attitude. I wish I could claim he doesn’t normally mouth off that way but I do try not to start new friendships off with a lie.”
***
“I think we’ll get along just fine,” Feyre assured her, getting her paints ready. “My eldest sister and I spend a lot of time mouthing off at each other. I’m really used to it.”
And nothing could beat the daily fights they had.
***
“Feel free to get an attitude back at him if he gets too bad. It'll do him good.” Ozma told her with a smile as she watched her getting ready to work. “I'll try to be quiet while you work.”