2531/Watercolor

Watercolor
Date of Scene:	20 July 2020
Location:	Washington Square Park
Synopsis:	Two cheerful souls meet in a fountain.
Cast of Characters:	Mori Merritt, Angelica Jones

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Mori Merritt has posed:
The fountain in Washington Square Park is well known. It's popular attraction for resident and tourist alike, and is in dozens of photos. Today, though, there's a distraction in the fountain. Those who were around the fountain have wandered away to give space to the awkward sight of someone in the fountain itself. Certainly, if someone had just fallen in someone would have helped. But this wasn't a case of someone falling in, it was some /thing/.

Pieces of paper cover the surface of the water. Sketches, completed drawings, half-finished portraits in charcoal, the water has taken them all alike and some of the drawings that have hit too much of the water are becoming a blurry mess. Which is why, jeans rolled up as far above her knees as she can reach them, Mori Merritt has waded into the fountain to try and fetch them. Her shoes and messenger bag lay nearby, as well as the offending portfolio that once held the drawings.

Angelica Jones has posed:
"Miss molly had a dolly, who was sick sick sick. So she called for the doctor, to come out quick quick quick. Oh tell me operator, and give me number nine..." Angelica chants the tune under her breath as she wanders through the area, something she used to know but is firmly messing up the lyrics of with every step away from youth.

She pauses in her walk, her singing good enough but not distracting. The piece of paper, that's distracting. She pauses as a single sheet, a drawing, hits her in the foot. She hunches down and smiles. Charcoal. Nice work. "Wonder who lost this."

A glance about and she blinks. "Oh. OH!" Then she's by the fountain, her hand grasping the one sheet. So many more sheets! "What happened?!"

To be fair, she's often not the brightest light.

Mori Merritt has posed:
The papers are everywhere. It's a mess and very quickly obvious that Mori isn't doing the best job of gathering them up. "I... wasn't paying attention and they fell in and..." She scoops a piece of paper up and does her best to let the water run off of it. "I think if I can get them to the grass and lay them out they can dry and maybe I can put pebbles or something to weigh them down gently..." She's mostly mumbling by this point as she tries to gather up the paper. "And this water is freezing."

Angelica Jones has posed:
The sound of feet hitting the water are nearly in synch with Mori's words. The redhead's shoes sit on the bank, but her skirts are now wet as she sloshes into the water, her head down as she picks up one on her own, then two. "You weren't kidding! It's giving me goosebumps all the way up to my ears!"

She turns a grin toward Mori, then says, "If we work fast we can warm up." She doesn't even name herself, just gets to work, whistling a warm tune. Operator, number nine, how did that go?

She then tacks on, "It's already feeling warmer. Hard work is magic like that."

Mori Merritt has posed:
"Right? It's like ice!" Mori agrees, being careful when she picks up a sheet of paper to make sure she doesn't accidently tear it. She's trying to balance between going fast to get them all out and going slow enough to be careful not to damage them. "I think some of these are entirely ruined, though, I'll have to redo them." It's not a matter of them being destroyed, it's a matter of /redoing/. "Um, thank you for the help though."

Angelica Jones has posed:
Angelica is still freezing, but she likes to at least try and put a good face on things. The grin she gives Mori's words is fun though. "You're very good," she says as she picks one of them up. "Better than I am anyway. Is it for a portfolio?" She pauses, then scoops up another with her grin faltering. "I'm an idiot, you're an art student at the Univirsity. Literally right over there." She waves a paper in the direction, then places it on the side of the fountain where the dampness will keep it from blowing away. For a moment anyway.

She wiggles her toes in the water. "Are you kidding? I haven't been in water like this in ages. Gives me the chance to get my feet wet." The beaming smile is honest. And the water raises a couple of degrees for no reason.

Mori Merritt has posed:
Mori laughs, shaking her head a little bit. "I mean, even if I wasn't going there, I'm still an artist and I'm still trying to keep all my good stuff together. Art's a way to get through rough things sometimes, so..." She looks at the mess in the fountain. "So right now my emotions are literally all over the place." She shakes her head. "At least they're unlikely to kick us out, we're cleaning things up." She doesn't seem to mind the water altogether, but when the temperature raises, she doesn't seem to pay it notice. Or rather, she's just more comfortable and isn't entirely sure why.

Angelica Jones has posed:
The redhead picks up two more from her area, then slogs through the water behind Mori. "Aaw, this one was really nice!" she says, her smile slipping as she looks at the wreck of paper and effort she's just tried to salvage. She looks to Mori, then sighs. "I'm sorry, I'm not actually eleven. I just come across like it sometimes. The thing is, you've still got all of this," she shows what once was a delicate work, with real emotion in ever line, "inside of you. A little water can't take it away. Not now, not ever."

And she kneels a moment, touching the water with her fingertips. "Even if it does feel pretty nasty right now. I draw too, so I really feel this."

Mori Merritt has posed:
"Oh no, I never thought you were eleven. I just thought you were nice." Mori looks at the paper, smiling at it for a moment. "Yeah, it was nice. I can make it again, it's just different... not in the details but how I feel when I'm making it, if that makes any sense." She gives a nod. "You draw too? Every completely mess up and scatter all your work in a fountain?" There's a small smile at the question. She doesn't expect it to be answered.

Angelica Jones has posed:
The lady shakes her head gently, looking around for any more to pick up. She spots one then splash-walks over toward it with a measure of triumph. "Anyone would have helped," she says, ignoring the fact that tens of people have passed and did not. "And that. That exactly. Mine never feel right, the details are never...Do you see any more? I'm not good enough for them to matter if I did," she says, the last bit a bit sad in tone. "I'm starting to think maybe I was more built for sculpture, or maybe music."

Mori Merritt has posed:
"Well, you're at least kinder than the whole lot of them," Mori says, moving to climb out of the fountain itself when it seems like all of the paper has been recovered. "Everyone starts somewhere with art. It's about testing to see what you're good at and experimenting. Maybe you do have something you're better at... but it also matters what you like. I know people that have become good from sheer determination. Loving something sometimes means all the world to getting good at it." She looks at her papers. "Some of these aren't good at all. They might be good from a technical sense, but they aren't art. They're a copy, not an interpretation."

Angelica Jones has posed:
Behind, a person leans down and touches the water to pick up one last sheet. A good samaritan, one who came in late. He pauses, then says, "What the hell? The water's warm!" He shakes his head in confusion.

Angelica, still standing in, doesn't hear. She's focusing on Mori, a soft smile lighting her face. And she slops out of the water, her skirt sluicing off wetness in a dribbling sheet. "Loving something enough to be good anyway. That's kinda wonderfun in itself. You've got a kind heart to say so, miss..." She pauses, then tries to hand over the papers she's gathered.

Mori Merritt has posed:
Mori looks towards Angelica, giving her a smile in return. "I feel like there's a lot of stuff you can get through it you love it enough. It's how people have hope in hard times, right? They want things to be better so badly that they walk through the trouble their in and eventually they get what they want." She carefully gathers the wet pages and starts to look for a spot on the grass where the sun might help them dry.

Angelica Jones has posed:
Of course, Angelica beams at the sharing that Mori's giving. This is her jam, what she enjoys the most. "I don't know if you've noticed," she says a little slyly, a little warmly. A lot happily. "But you've stopped frowning about dropping your art. Shared pain is lessened." She helps lay them out, then leans in and gives a little squeeze, if she's allowed. "Not sure what else I can do to help though. They'll just have to dry naturally."

Mori Merritt has posed:
"Maybe I look forward to trying what I lost over again, a chance to make it better... or at least make it different. Or maybe this is a way of letting go of some of them. Enjoying something while it lasts and then setting it free." Mori smiles in return, genuinely looking happy in return. Maybe it's contageous. "Well, I also really like new friends, so that helps."

Angelica Jones has posed:
"It helps," Angelica agrees. Then she waves, realizing that she does, in fact, have to go. "It's getting late. I hope you become something wonderful," she says, not moving to leave. Yet. But that was definitely a goodbye, and one with hope. "Don't let anyone ever tell you that what you do is easy. But it's gonna be worth it." Words she should say to herself a bit more often, apparently.

Mori Merritt has posed:
"Alright... don't let anyone, especially yourself, tell you that you're not good enough. Because you are, you just haven't loved yourself enough." Mori offers a broad grin, moving to set out the papers on the grass. "I look forward to seeing what artwork you produce in the future. I'll bet you make it big. I've got good hunches."

Angelica Jones has posed:
Angelica beams, then waves and turns to go. Somehow it seems as if some of the warmth leaves with her, as she walks off, her skirts bone dry. But that's just how it goes with some people, after all. They keep the sun with them, inside.