OPEN | with a confusion of ideas

[lifeskills]

Who: Victor Frankenstein (lifeskills) and anyone in the neighborhood.
Where: The dining room.
When: Jan. 20th.
Rating: PG-13, maybe? Possibly? We'll see.
Summary: Going to art school instead of medical school would've saved a lot of people some trouble, just saying.

The Story:



<sub>[It's been an odd week. It's always odd in Wonderland, but it's not often he starts a week off by getting a sunburn in the middle of winter (and he knows exactly whose mind that Egyptian adventure had come from, as if there was ever any doubt). It's been an odd year, if he's being honest. Odder than most, and that's saying something considering he's been in Wonderland for over two now.

To think it'd been around this time last Christmas that he'd been looking at a future vision of Lily and Dorian Gray ballroom dancing, and not knowing who they were. Not knowing the significance they'd have in his life once he returned to London--and he had, in time to put together all of the hints Wonderland had been dropping. About himself. About the tragic events that were coming.

Victor has taken up residence at one of the dining room tables, a common enough sight during breakfast and dinner hours while grabbing a bite to eat (lunch is usually an afterthought grabbed on the go). Only a coffee cup sits near him now--and a journal, propped up on a folded knee. He's been drawing, but not the kinds of research sketches one would have found inside in times past when scientific rigor was the focus.

As he goes to adjust his seat, the journal falls from its precariously balanced position, scattering loose pages along the floor. If a page should skitter close to one's foot, they'll find series of abstract drawings dotting it. Doodles, really. Random hieroglyphics. A pyramid crowned with a jewel. The White Queen's symbol. A blonde woman, beautiful features made sharper by her intensely piercing eyes.]</sub>

Sorry. It slipped.

_{[Excuse him while he tries to scoop those up before someone steps on the detritus of his thoughts.]}

Comments

did you say art

[poppycock]

[ there's no need to pick up the fallen scraps of his innermost thoughts and lingerings for klaus does those honors, a particular sketch sliding under the toe of his boot as he deigns to walk by. he had little intention to socialize with anyone today; he merely meant to visit the kitchens for sustenance his closet seemed reticent to give him this day. (intentionally, he'd guess. he's been more or less holed up since new year's.)

however. it has been long months since he approached victor. even longer since their short and secret friendship in the halls of a castle. he might've passed the man by regardless, but the scratching of his pencil and the subsequent losing of papers solidified his pause.

now, well, as he picks up the sketch of a startlingly attractive woman rendered with such exquisite and powerful detail, klaus has another reason to stay. he studies her and makes no move to return her liking. ] Isn't she striking.

It would be a shame if this knowledge slipped into the wrong hands...

[theothermrgray]

[It was a pity Victor associated poor the Dorian here with someone else. He locked himself out of a potential friend, a common familiar. It wasn't like he was anything like this other counterpart, was it?]

[No, this Dorian was caught by surprise when he found the drawing of the beautiful woman fly out of Victor's journal and land at Dorian's feet. Picking it up to inspect it, Dorian was awed by the keen attention to detail, the beauty in her features etched onto the page. Beauty... Pure beauty on the page. Dorian idly reached out to brush a finger against the sketched cheek when he heard Victor muttering an excuse.]

Doctor Frankenstein? I had no idea you were such a talented artist!

[He's not going to give the evidence back. Not now.]