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[Eliza Vescovi]

Backdated to August 1st
Blame Eliza for being too damn specific, not me.

Eliza was making her way back from the art rooms, sketchbook in her lap, thinking about what she had planned next. Lessons had ended a few hours ago, but that didn't mean she would stop working. After having developed some of the designs in the book on her lap into more plausible, tangible pieces of work, she was going to go to her dorm and begin revising, reviewing everything she had learned that day and making sure it was secure in her memory and fully understood.

However, her schedule was about to be altered, because the universe was not on her side today. Or more accurately, the ground. An uneven dip in the floor made Eliza's chair tilt and topple over, sending her down to the ground, and sending the book a short distance away, scattering some of the papers that had been inside. She paused a moment to recover herself, finding that she had grazed her arm a little. She sighed, but it wasn't exactly the most important issue right now. The wind picked up a little and the papers nearby flew further away, much to her frustration.

She had two options - drag her body over to the spread out sheets of paper and collect them up first, to decrease the risk of damage or loss, or heave herself into her chair and hope that her hard work wouldn't be whisked away before she got to it. There were a few others around, but she was not about to ask for help. She didn't need help.

[Andreas Pruitt]

Andreas was heading for the front gate after deciding to cut through the pond area, getting ready to go home and get a shower after that evening's soccer practice had ended, when he saw the girl who was on the ground, next to a wheelchair. She seemed to be trying to grab some papers that seemed to have fallen out of the book that was also nearby. Not wanting to see her struggle, but also not wanting to seem to pushy he walked over to her and kneeled down next to her asking, "You need some help?"

[Eliza Vescovi]

Eliza regarded the man, seemingly a teacher or some such figure, as he approached and offered his services of aid. She looked at him for a moment. Did she want any help? No, she didn't want any help at all. She wanted to be able to sort herself out and move along independently. However, he did not ask that question. He asked if she needed any help, and as stubborn as Eliza was, she knew when she needed to cave and ask for someone to step in. "Yes. If you could pick those up, I would be thankful." She said, her voice bordering on monotonous from her annoyance at the situation.

As he supposedly did that, Eliza pulled herself over to the fallen over chair. She put it upright and made sure it was on a flat surface, before carefully (but not exactly gracefully) pulling herself into it. Her arm strength was usually unexpected by some, but seeing as she had push herself around everyday is she ever wanted to get anywhere, it was something she had developed, and was something she still worked on. It was jolty and unclean, but she got up eventually.

She needed to practice her recoveries. Something else to add into her timetables.