|
|
Kris sits on a bench located here, her nose literally stuck in a book. Occasionally, she lifts her head to look around before returning to her reading.
Lisa plunks down onto a bench and reaches into her anorak for a small spiral notebook. Pulling a pen from the binding, she glances from one building to the next and makes a few notes.
Kris lifts her head up as the extra weight is felt. A frown forms on her face as she looks to the source, then raises a brow at the girl. The look on her face could be almost comical as she ponders the audacity the other had for sitting univited.
When first looking into Lisa's eyes, both the color of heart wood cherry,
a grin, or perhaps a smirk, seems to glimmer there. Lisa's laughing eyes
are framed in an oval shaped face, made of soft curves with a few sharp
edges around her chin. Long trails of chocolate brown hair spill from her
head, flowing straight down until the very base of her neck, where they
begin to curl.
Lisa seems quite strong for someone barely topping five feet, eleven
inches tall, with a lean frame instead of the bulky one associated with
muscularity. Yet, lines of strength run across her arms and back and legs,
outward signs of constant exercise. Most would call it a runner's frame,
but the callouses on her hands show less casual exertions.
Lisa's choice in clothing swings to the practical, almost nondescript.
A pair dun brown hiking boots protect her feet,scuffed from use. Faded
blue-jeans hang from her hips, with phrases and reminders scribbled on
the legs in pen. Her T-shirt du jour, hangs loosely over her, hiding her
figure. A red and black flannel shirt, worn beneath an army surplus anorak,
complete her attire.
Lisa regards the other occupant of the quad the way one would regard particles of dust in the air: they exist, but are not really the most important thing floating about right now. Her hand vanishes into the anorak once more, producing a small campus map.
Kris closes the book, the title "A Collection of Hans Christian Anderson" can be skimmed from the binding, then rests it in her lap. Her oft-cloudy eyes focus to observe the other's movements, then notes the map.
Lisa's eyes jump from the map, to her notes, then back again. The tip of her pen occasionally scribbles something onto the page, but only after touching a certain spot on the map. Bit by bit, one line following another, a personal map appears within the notebook, varying somewhat from the official one.
Kris decides to take a rare moment, and be the forward one here, as she inquires, "Trying to find an easier way around here?" Her voice carries a somewhat refined tone, perhaps a softer version of what one would associate with the priviledged classes.
Lisa says, voice without inflection, "No, I'm plotting targeting vectors for the upcoming mortar attack." A smile cracks her lips, then vanishes as she peers from the official map, to the buildings, and back to the official map. "How could they miss a building?"
You say "Mortar Attacks? Hmmm, remind me not to be in class on that day," Her voice barely cracks with humor, probably because she is not used to the practice. The missing building comment catches her interests, before she shakes her head with a muttered, "And they say I'm wierd"
Lisa says, "Wierd is relative. Or relatives are wierd. I forget how that goes." She brings the school map close to her eyes and says, "You'd think they'd update the map every now and again. This dates back to the Nixon years..."
Kris raises a brow. "Nixon wasn't that long ago," with that comment she shrugs, taking the opportunity to dart a look around the quad. A few moments pass before she finishes her sentence, "I guess we're just old fashioned around here."
Lisa tucks the map away and says, "It was a lifetime for me. Literally."
Kris nods slowly, seeming to study the horizon while she absently drums her fingers on the closed text. "Perhaps," her eyes close with that for a moment, before sighing.
Lisa tilts her head, a gout of brown hair falling across her left eye. "Whyfor the sigh?"
Kris glances up to the sky, and tilts her head. "It's...difficult to explain. Everything seems a Lifetime ago, and so unclear." She blinks her eyes several times before waving a hand as if to wave off the statement.
Lisa pauses, considering this for a moment before saying, "Remembering someone else's memories?"
Kris sighs, "Just in my dreams." She then catches herself, snaps her eyes towards Lisa, then abruptly stands. "No, no..." she says in a hurried voice, "Nothing like that." She then grabs her book, and backs away quickly. "I..I got to go study..I'll see you later, perhaps," And with that she darts away.
As you leave, you hear Lisa humming something. On thought, it turns out to be from "Dark Side of the Moon" by Pink Floyd...
