two very unique minds [closed]
Characters: Cass Cain, Amadeus Cho
Location: Library
Time: Sometime. After classes?
Content: The start of a beautiful an interesting friendship.
Warnings: Smartass Boy and Silent Girl
Cass was over by a tall window, curled up in a large armchair with her shoes kicked off and her legs folded under her. She wore a frown as she bent her head over the book in her lap.
It was an art book: not the one Mr H had given her first week of classes, but another she had pulled out from the shelf. The pages were large and picture-filled and printed vividly on glossy paper. She looked silently at it, taking in with wide eyes the landscape that stretched across the paper. Boats, water and a sky of colours she'd never seen before, all rendered with rough, expressive brushstrokes.
Pictures. Cass liked them. She understood them. They were like moments, frozen in time -- not moving, but they could have been. Words didn't...words weren't the same: they were a babble of noise when spoken out loud, part of system of communication she had never learnt, and not much better when written down, because they didn't look like anything.
She turned the page, absently running a finger down the thin sharp edge of the paper.
Location: Library
Time: Sometime. After classes?
Content: The start of a beautiful an interesting friendship.
Warnings: Smartass Boy and Silent Girl
Cass was over by a tall window, curled up in a large armchair with her shoes kicked off and her legs folded under her. She wore a frown as she bent her head over the book in her lap.
It was an art book: not the one Mr H had given her first week of classes, but another she had pulled out from the shelf. The pages were large and picture-filled and printed vividly on glossy paper. She looked silently at it, taking in with wide eyes the landscape that stretched across the paper. Boats, water and a sky of colours she'd never seen before, all rendered with rough, expressive brushstrokes.
Pictures. Cass liked them. She understood them. They were like moments, frozen in time -- not moving, but they could have been. Words didn't...words weren't the same: they were a babble of noise when spoken out loud, part of system of communication she had never learnt, and not much better when written down, because they didn't look like anything.
She turned the page, absently running a finger down the thin sharp edge of the paper.