"Exhausted" (open)

[Maisie Pryce]

Class had ended for the day but it was still a few hours before Maisie would feel the need to sate her hunger in the cafeteria downstairs. While normally full of energy, she just wanted to sit for a moment and recharge. She had every intention of potentially napping downstairs but decided that what she really needed was something to drink. So she'd gotten some juice and plopped herself down in the nearest chair, throwing her head back over one arm and her legs over another. Not surprisingly, the elastic girl let herself hang there, her legs slipping down until her feet touched the floor and her arms noodling in her lap. She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments before finding out that PSYCH! She actually had enough energy to want someone to talk to. Except there was no one really around that looked like they would appreciate a conversational partner. Not that she was going to let that stop her. She quickly returned her limbs to their normal length and grabbed her drink.

She drained it in several gulps and put the used bottle back on the table in front of her before rooting around in her backpack for her sketchbook and pencils. She had started work on a dress design earlier and wanted to finish it. Since she had so much energy now, it seemed like the best time to give it another shot. Soon (within at least 5 minutes) the table in front of her was littered with little scraps of paper and pencils that had missed their places in their box as she sat with her legs now tucked beneath her, shoes discarded on the floor. She worked with an almost breakneck speed, the soft, scritch-scritching sound of her pencils seeming to echo in her ears as she sketched a dress on one page and a sari-esk wrap on another.

Then, quite suddenly she felt the drain kicking in. When she stopped, it was sudden and almost unexpected; her red pencil nearly fell from her grip. She chose that moment to look up and noted the chaos she had unintentionally created first and the curious eyes staring at her second. “Uh…hi! Sorry…” she said with some embarrassment when she noticed that her mess took up A LOT of the table in front of her, no wonder someone was staring. “I’ll clean this up,” she offered as she reached and started gathering her pencils back in. However, the last three shades never made it back into the box as she took one look at a discarded drawing, realized her mistake and started feverishly coloring and sketching again in a different part of her book.

She looked up again to see the same person was still there. “Ah…oh my god, sorry, I’m really terrible sometimes,” she admitted before she FINALLY, managed to shrink the mess on the table into a more manageable and socially acceptable area.

[Genevieve Duval]

Genevieve was almost done with her book, which was a good thing because she still needed to read another one for her Literature class. The problem was that every time she read a romantic part in the book, her face flushed into a deep red and she remembered the request Osiris had made of her. She was now to be his girlfriend. Well, a fake girlfriend. Oh, what did she get herself involved with? It was just so much trouble and the fact that she had to lie to people just made it all worse. Especially because whenever he was close, she could feel her heart in her ears. Which was all silly! She blamed it to her lack of experience. Besides, it wasn't like Osiris wanted to be near her, it was just... business. Yes. Well, something like that. The French girl let out a dejected sigh. And now she was going to have to meet not only his boyfriend, but also his grandmother. It made her wonder how this boy was, if he was handsome, was he a meta? Did he attend Hammel? If so, maybe Genevieve had seen him somewhere? He hd to be handsome, right? To make Osiris go through so much trouble. She looked down at herself and sighed. No one would ever believe she was his girlfriend anyway. She never really knew how to dress, nor gave it much thought, but now she was supposed to be his girlfriend. Just the idea of it made her flush again.

She'd been so lost in thought, her eyes still fixed on her book, when she felt she step on something. "Ah?" She made a tiny curious noise as she looked down and noticed she'd stepped on a piece of paper. Wait- what was this? She bent down and picked up the paper and stared at it curiously. There was a pretty drawing of a dress. A very pretty dress in fact. Genevieve rose her eyes to the girl drawing on the nearest table and walked up to her, staring at her curiously. She placed the piece of paper down on the table and shook her head as the girl apologised.

"Ah! Non. It is no a problem." She said in her thick accent. The girl gathered her things in, but Genevieve didn't move, standing on her tip toes to see what else she was doing. From the scraps of paper here and there, it seemed she was drawing clothes. Her eyes shone in admiration as she looked at the designs. So pretty... and this girl's style... maybe- maybe she could- Ah!

"Non!" Said Genevieve suddenly, waving a hand while carrying her book in the other. "I am- ah, shocked, yes? Um..." That wasn't the word. "Impressed." Better. "Impressed with the work. It is-" She shook her head and moved to sit on a free chair in the same table, staring at the girl nervously. "You make this" She said with wide eyes. "I- Um..." She blushed and gulped as she gathered her courage. "I need help!" She said suddenly, leaning closer to the girl. Wait. Names first. "I am Genevieve." She introduced herself. "You know clothes, yes?" Of course she did, she was designing them! "I need help."

Well, it was obvious she needed help with clothing. Genevieve looked more like a homeless hippie than a little French girl. It was no wonder no one talked to her back in Kocher, what with all the girls caring so much about their appearance. But Genevieve never had female friends there, so she never grew to learn what fit her and what now. So now she still had the same bushy, curly hair she'd had since little, and her oversized sweaters. Her aversion to wear proper shoes made her seem even worse. Who wore flip flops in that weather, anyway?

[Maisie Pryce]

To say that Maisie was a little shocked herself was a bit of an understatement. The girl was so abrupt in her intention that it took Maisie a moment to really understand what the other was trying to get across. It was also a bit hampered by the thick accent and the broken English. Despite that however Maisie caught up quickly. She found herself nodding by the end of the girl's request. Help, she could help...with clothes. Maisie wasn't really sure that she could, she was more used to designing and making them than dressing someone. She looked down at her outfit quickly and decided that okay, maybe she did look like she could help someone dress themselves potentially. Then she thought about that one outfit with the pink zebra striped tank and the purple pants....alright that outfit was badass, she totally had this dressing thing down.

So she smiled and said the first thing she could think of. "Hi Genevieve, I'm Maisie. I'm not really sure if I can help you but I'll try," she offered. The least she could do was give the girl some advice if she could figure out what it was that she needed help with. Even just observing the girl in front of her Maisie could see where there could be some improvement but she was of the opinion that everyone had their own style and if you didn’t like it you were free to GTFO instead of expressing an unwanted/unasked for opinion. However it was rather obvious that the girl wanted fashion advice and Maisie would do her best to give it as truthfully and kindly as she could. Fashion was an extension of personality, or it helped give confidence when there was none. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt anyone’s sense of self with thoughtless advice.

“Okay, first things first,” Maisie set her sketchbook and pencils aside. “How would you describe your style?” she asked curiously. It would be best to have a foothold here so that she had a starting point. Giving it a bit more thought, Maisie was certain that Genevieve would probably have something negative to say about her image, but she’d deal with that if it came to be.

[Genevieve Duval]

Maisie. "Maisie." Repeated the French girl, nodding as she stared at the girl's face. "Maisie. Maisie." She didn't want to forget her name and she tried her best to connect the name with her face. She was pretty and apparently nice if she was willing to help a stranger. It made Genevieve smile at her shyly, nodding at her. "Merci." She muttered in a low voice, her finger raising to scratch the place Vivian had been standing a few seconds ago. That little bee was still walking on her face, though she was mostly ignored.

"You make pretty clothes." Said Genevieve as she looked down at Maisie's work. "You do this long? Ah- for long?" It looked like it, from how pretty the designs were. She smiled down at the mess the girl had created and sighed sadly. It seemed everyone had a talent, knew what they wanted to do. Genevieve was barely able to talk to other people and even then she was only half understood, much less have an ability that set her apart from the rest. Was she abnormal?

The girl asked about her style and Genevieve blinked in confusion. She had a style? She looked down at herself, with her over sized sweater and long skirt. "I do not have." She said, convinced of this fact. She shook her head. "But no- I mean..." She didn't like saying no to people, "I do not need my style. I need- uh... a pretty style, yes? I am..." She blushed, looking down at the table as Vivian once again walked up to her forehead. "I have boyfriend now." She said with a serious expression, whispering as if it was something bad. And it kind of was, only Maisie didn't need to know that. Genevieve had promised not to tell anybody that the whole girlfriend thing was a lie, so she wasn't about to fill in Maisie on that.

"I meet uh- grandma, yes? This Saturday. I do not-" She looked down with a deep blush, "Do not know to dress. I need look- ah," How to say it? She needed to look... sexy. What a weird thing to say for this circumstances, but it was the truth. "Like I can seduce, yes?" She finished with a pink hue over her cheeks. Especially so because she knew she looked like exactly the opposite of someone who could do that.

[Maisie Pryce]

Maisie thought about it for a moment, she had been distracted by the way the French girl had been saying her name, it was pretty and rythmic. "Um, long enough I guess, since before I came to Hammel. I always liked sewing," she admitted. "But I don't think it's anything special yet. I still have a lot to learn," she admitted. She knew that she was "talented" to a point but hard work and persistance along with education and ambition would be the things that launched her into any sort of fashion industry work. At the same time, she had began to wonder if pursuing a fun hobby as a way of life as she got older would dull the thing she enjoyed and make it part of the stress she often avoided when she was working on something.

She focused a little bit better on Genevieve's problem but still found herself to be momentarily confused as to why the girl thought she needed wardrobe help. She rather liked the whole hippie thing going on, but admitted to herself that maybe she would change a few things about the outfit in particular. Plus, she was also busy reminded herself that Genevieve wasn't actually talking about looking sexy for her boyfriend's grandma but she didn't realy feel comfortable with the implication that the other girl thought she had to dress a certain way to impress someone. She looked at the ceiling for a moment and tried to put her thoughts in order before they could come tumbling out...she half succeeded.

"You don't really need to look sexy when you meet someone's grandma!” she said first, with a rather louder ending than she meant. She looked around to see who might have heard her and mock saluted a curious older student a few feet away. “But anyway…” she said with a lowered voice. “If your boyfriend became your boyfriend…you don’t have to dress any different to keep him around and if you do or like he asks you, you should dump him. That’s what all those after-school specials and Disney movies kinda imply right? You shouldn’t have to change for someone who claims to like you…” she added with some concern. Maybe Genevieve was confused because they did things differently in France?

Maisie thought she understood, she would help the girl either way because she could see the potential just lying beneath the surface but she didn’t want Genevieve to do it because she thought she had to in order to keep her boyfriend around. Maisie had learned a long time ago that changing to keep anyone around was just a waste of time and energy that ultimately ended badly for the one who changed. It was better to just stay as true to yourself as possible and hope for the best.

[Genevieve Duval]

"Is special!" Replied Genevieve passionately. She didn't know to do anything, so something like this was always impressive in her eyes. "You make people uh- feel good, yes? With clothing. Is good! Special." She wished she had a talent like this so she could too share it with others. Hmm, maybe she ought to find a hobby as well.

As she said it out loud, the French girl realised what it could've sounded like. She giggled as Maisie saluted some nearby people. She figured she liked this girl, she was confident, something Genevieve longed to be. "Is not for grandmother." She said, still finding it silly and giggling slightly. "Is for him." Of course it was for him. But Maisie continued explaining.

"Ah no!" Said the French girl quickly, shaking her head. "I cannot- uh, do the dump! No! I- uh... I cannot. He is- um... he is... is difficult to explain, yes?" She scratched her cheek. What was she trying to accomplish anyway? It wasn't like she wanted to make Osiris like her instead of Rue, right? No. That would be mean! To keep someone so amazing as Rue from love like that. And to hurt Osiris with a break up. It wasn't like she was going to seduce him, right? The idea made her blush. Maybe this was a waste of time..

"I- is not. Um..." She sighed sadly, still blushing deeply. "He does not like me." She whispered in a low voice. "He- uh. He likes somebody else, yes? And I- um... I just wanted..." She felt her eyes sting and she shook her head, not wanting to cry again. Not over that. "I thought that he could like me if I was um... prettier." Clothes could do that, right? But maybe this girl wouldn't help. She'd insisted that wasn't right after all. "Can you help?" She hoped she'd say yes. But wasn't this wrong? Wasn't Genevieve just trying to ruin things between Osiris and Rue? No. She convinced herself. This was part of the act. This was her trying to look like she could make someone as amazing as Osiris fall for her. And if... in the mean time he ended up... doing just that, well... it wasn't like it would be her fault... right? Ugh, that sounded so foolish, and yet, here she was, still trying, knowing it was completely wrong. Love really turned people into the worst.