Clint and Topaz |Wednesday Afternoon (Backdated)

[x-topaz.livejournal.com]

Topaz finds Clint in the attic, and they discuss introversion, his break up with Tandy, and books. (backdated to September 18th).



Topaz hesitated as she entered the attic. Ever since the...fight...with Frank, she'd taken to avoiding the library, not particularly wanting to run into him. Which meant finding other places to hide when she wanted to...well, hide. Kurt's couch had come in handy every now and again, but he had a suitemate and she didn't want to impose too often. The attic was another good option.

Today. however, she hesitated, uncertain. Even before she fully stepped in she could feel a mixture of sadness, anger, and something that wasn't quite identifiable. She wasn't the only person who had chosen the attic for refuge.

Another moment, and finally she made her way in. The attic was big enough, after all. They could avoid each other if the other person really didn't want anyone around. And Topaz herself was flexible about it.

Clint glanced up at the sound of footsteps entering the attic. He'd situated himself near the flier's platform - not directly in its path, but close enough that he could get to it and then out onto the roof quickly if he wanted to. Still, he caught sight of Topaz near the other entrance and considered his options.

Clearing his throat, he said, "Hey," and half-waved. He wasn't even sure she could see him properly, but that was okay. He'd just wanted to be somewhere quiet and there were lights here, so he could do his homework.

Topaz peeked around a pile of boxes at the sound of Clint's voice. Ah. That might explain the something else she couldn't identify. "Hullo. Sorry, didn't mean to intrude."

"It's cool," Clint said, shrugging a little. "I didn't figure anybody else would really be coming up here, though." There was an implied question in his words - a 'why' that he didn't ask because he didn't want to pry.

"Probably what makes it the perfect place to hide," Topaz pointed out, a bit wryly. "Better not let it get back to the other introverts in the mansion, might get overrun."

"We have other introverts?" Clint asked, brows rising a little.

"Probably not," Topaz admitted. "That was a sad attempt at a joke."

Clint laughed softly. "I got it," he said, nodding to the other end of the old, dusty couch he'd picked out for himself. "Feel free to be introverted with me, if you like. I'm just working on some Calculus."

The young witch nodded, holding up the copy of The Giver she'd borrowed last time she'd dared to sneak into the library. "I was just looking for a quiet place to read," she said as she dropped down on the other side of the couch. "Gets a bit too loud in the suite sometimes."

The silence hung for a moment before Clint started, "So..." Yeah, there was just no good way to go about asking. He flipped a page of his Calc book, then let out a slow breath and asked, "Have you seen Tandy?" He knew he could get some actual information from Maddie, probably, given Sue was Tandy's best friend, but he didn't really want to put his best friend in the position of being a go-between, so.

Topaz's eyes flitted to the side to look at Clint, pressing her lips together for a moment. "Yeah," she said finally, deciding against the semi-sarcastic answer that had flitted around her head. "Seen her a bit."

"She doing okay? Y'know, as okay as can be expected?"

Another moment, and finally Topaz put her bookmark back and looked over at Clint, giving him her full attention. "No." She liked Clint. Really she did. But she wasn't going to sugarcoat either. It wasn't in her nature and he probably wanted honesty. "She's upset. It's hard on her."

Clint rubbed at the back of his neck, not really sure how to reply to that. "Crap."

Hey, he'd asked. Topaz looked down at her book cover for a moment, turning the words around in her head. Finally, "How're you?"

"I dunno. I mean." Clint shrugged, glanced at Topaz, and then looked back down at his textbook. "I'm not like." He didn't know how to say it. "I'm not really upset or anything. That's... sort of part of why I thought we should just be friends? I mean. Crap." He let his head thunk back against the couch, squinting at the bits and pieces of dust that floated up into the air when he did.

"I get it," she assured him. Strangely enough, she did. "Knowing it was the right thing to do doesn't necessarily make it any easier though, does it?"

"Yeah, exactly. She's still important to me. She's still my friend." It'd been awful, having that conversation, seeing the look on her face. Clint pressed his palms against his eyes. "Ugh."

"It'll get better." Given her complete lack of experience in this area, Topaz was probably the last person who should have been trying to reassure Clint. But she was there and she would've felt bad if she'd ignored it completely. "It would've been worse to drag it out. No one likes being lied to." That she could say from experience, no matter how different the situations were.

"I just wish I didn't feel like such an asshole," Clint muttered, letting his hands fall back to his textbook. He didn't say anything else for a long moment, just stared at the diagrams on the page in front of him. Then, with visible effort, he took a breath and asked, "How're you? Classes going okay so far?"

Topaz recognized a diversionary tactic when she saw him. She certainly wasn't one to be prying, however. So instead she curled up, flipping her book open again as she said, "Yeah, you know. Alright for the start of the year. How about you?"

"Good," Clint said, nodding. "Classes are good." He waved a hand toward her book. "I'll let you get back to your reading."

She shrugged, making a bit of an "eh" noise. "Not like I haven't read it before." Enough times to be able to recite it from memory.

"That's not one I've read before," Clint offered, tilting his head to the side. "I think it was one of the options when I was a freshman but I read Ender's Game instead."

"That I've never read. Not much of a sci-fi person," Topaz said with a shrug, giving her own book a bit of a tilt in his direction, "I read this for extra credit year seven. It's basically about a world where the government regulates everything. Food intake, how many children you can have - limit two, one boy, one girl - who you marry, what job you have, even what you're allowed to feel." She paused for a moment before adding, "It's better than I make it sound."

"Does somebody rise up and overthrow the tyrannical government?"

"Nah, the main character kidnaps a baby who's going to be killed because he isn't reachin' any of his milestones and runs away with him." Which was part of the reason she liked it. If the entire society had just been reformed it would have seemed...unrealistic.

Clint tipped his head to the side. "And then what? They disappear? That's... kind of depressing."

"Well they leave the tyrannical society trying to find somewhere else to live, and in the end the main character hears singin'. I took that as he died when I first read it, but apparently it was meant to be him findin' a new place to live, since there are sequels." She thumbed the pages for a moment, then shrugged. "I always liked my readin' of it better."

English had never really been Clint's strong suit. Ever. He'd gotten to the point where he started saying things were metaphors just because it sounded good. He could be analytic if he needed to be, but he much preferred the simplicity of numbers. There were far too many interpretations for words. "You liked it better when you thought he'd died?"

Strangely enough, the many interpretations were why Topaz did like it. She'd never understand people. But words? Words she got. "Seemed more realistic," she said simply. "It was a twelve- - almost thirteen- - year-old kid who ran away from the only home he ever knew with nothin' but scraps of leftover food he stole, he had a one year old to take care of, and he had no idea where he was goin', or even if there was anywhere beyond his own little bubble. I don't think too many kids would actually survive that."

"Okay, I'll give you that," Clint said, nodding. "Did you read As I Lay Dying?"

Topaz's mind unwillingly flitted to Frank's books, shoved away in the back of her desk. She snapped back to the present situation quickly. "Yeah. It's one of my favorite books."

"That one's got a chapter that only says, 'My mother is a fish.' I was never really sure how to take that," Clint said. It was basically the only thing he actually remembered about the book.

"Child logic," Topaz said, almost automatically, still playing with the pages of her book. "That was Vardaman, the youngest. He killed a fish right before his mother died, and then his mother died. In his mind the two are linked. Therefore his mother is a fish. There's an animal theme too, Jules' mother was a horse. But that's a different thing."

"Huh," Clint said, frowning a little. "I guess that makes sense. How old was Vardaman supposed to be in that, anyway?"

"I think about six or seven," Topaz replied, pressing her lips together. "Definitely no older than eight. But he had a childish mentality, made him seem younger."

After considering that for a moment, Clint nodded. "Okay, so point to you on the kid-logic thing. I'm just not sure I really get they 'why' of it. Same with 'Catcher in the Rye.'"

"You're looking for logic in fiction," she guessed, slightly amused. "That's just not gonna happen."

"That's not true - there's tons of logic in fiction. Especially science fiction. I picked 'The Left Hand of Darkness' by Ursula le Guin for that project KGibz has us doing and that's the whole point of it, taking something from here and now and extrapolating the heck out of it to see where it could logically go." It wasn't often that Clint really got into an English assignment, but he was seriously enjoying this one - maybe because it made sense and there were definitely parts of the story that he could relate to.

"Fair enough, I don't know much about science fiction." Topaz shrugged. "Faulkner's era though, that period of fiction, it was all about symbolism. You can almost never take anything at face value. If it seems completely mad, there's probably a deeper meaning."

"I guess - but what's the point if most people don't get the symbolism? I mean, Animal Farm made sense so far as the symbolism went."

"Can't really comment on that," she admitted. "I know some of his books - can't remember the title right now, but it focused on the south and how everythin' was fallin' apart and everyone was selfish and greedy. Not really going to make it obvious that's what you're writin' about when you're livin' in the south."

Clint laughed a little. "I'm out of my depth now. The only thing I really know about Southern lit besides Huck Finn and that other one by what's his name is A Rose for Emily and that was creepy."

"Haven't actually read that one," Topaz said with pursed lips. She was definitely keeping it in mind though. She liked creepy. "I'll have to try and find it."

"I think I might have my copy from last year, though it's probably in my room at home rather than here at the mansion. Next time I go in I'll see if I can find it."

Topaz nodded, lips pulling into a small smile. "That'd be great. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Clint said, smiling back.