Winter work: Weeks passing: losing count of days
The little AU: Winter Work: losing count of days
slashfairy
G
~~
They've lost count of the days now since the Solstice and the turning of the year. Orli's back from Argentina, Hunter's gone home to New Zealand and Nat, Karl's waiting for CBS to release Comanche Moon and half-dreading, half-being-amused-by the reviews and speculation around Pathfinder, while wishing Out of the Blue would be released in the States, and Viggo's still in London locked in the embrace of Nikolai the Russian Gangster he's donned for David Cronenberg's new movie Eastern Promises. The people up the street get their bulbs put in and go on about their lives. They're in the business too, in and out of town together and separately to projects and shoots and appearances, while the bulbs sit under the sandy soil, gathering time to themselves.
Henry calls, talks to his friend. They sort out some kind of meet-up of class-mates over Spring Break; so far they're the first ones to look up from Winter to the Equinox just over the horizon. They're both hearing it from all over their Facebook and mySpace and NewsVine blogs- How did things get this bad? What'll we do now? Why didn't anyone tell me about the Global Warming report. It's depressing as fuck, even though they weren't caught as much by surprise as some people they know. Henry's had his dad to keep him in the political know, and Orli's involvement with Global Cool has given Henry's friend exposure he'd not have had otherwise, now he's living in Orli's house and there's stuff from Global Cool lying around for the looking at.
It's hard to be optimistic, though, in the face of the reaction to the report. It's just so grim, and seems so impossible to do anything about. It's when Linda Ronstadt comes on the Oldies station back in California and Henry catches it over his friend's phone that they each laugh and agree that it's a workable problem, step by step, and there's every reason to plan for a future while taking care of the present. Poor Poor Pitiful Me may not be great writing but the sentiment is right for two boys, young men, bemoaning having to choose between leaving the cell-phone charger plugged in or planning ahead for the next ten years' habits. They end up planning a little video of clips of themselves and their mutual friends doing Cool things to toss up on the blogs, then talk about the more immediate stuff, like how to get their homework done when there's fun to be had and home to miss.
Hunter prattles on to the flight attendant for a while about his Dad's house and the dogs and Disneyland and building things, then falls asleep curled up in the seat clutching the airline blanket and a postcard of the pier in town that he'd insisted on carrying with him. The attendant looks at the little boy who clearly feels safe and confident alone in the big plane with only his father's love and mother's home to protect him, and thinks how lucky he is, and what good parents he has. It crosses her mind that he's leaving Winter and flying to Summer with nary a Spring day in between; she shrugs, thinking that as long as we have time at all, when and what we call it really doesn't matter.
Russian Pathfinder site
Pairings
slashfairy
G
~~
They've lost count of the days now since the Solstice and the turning of the year. Orli's back from Argentina, Hunter's gone home to New Zealand and Nat, Karl's waiting for CBS to release Comanche Moon and half-dreading, half-being-amused-by the reviews and speculation around Pathfinder, while wishing Out of the Blue would be released in the States, and Viggo's still in London locked in the embrace of Nikolai the Russian Gangster he's donned for David Cronenberg's new movie Eastern Promises. The people up the street get their bulbs put in and go on about their lives. They're in the business too, in and out of town together and separately to projects and shoots and appearances, while the bulbs sit under the sandy soil, gathering time to themselves.
Henry calls, talks to his friend. They sort out some kind of meet-up of class-mates over Spring Break; so far they're the first ones to look up from Winter to the Equinox just over the horizon. They're both hearing it from all over their Facebook and mySpace and NewsVine blogs- How did things get this bad? What'll we do now? Why didn't anyone tell me about the Global Warming report. It's depressing as fuck, even though they weren't caught as much by surprise as some people they know. Henry's had his dad to keep him in the political know, and Orli's involvement with Global Cool has given Henry's friend exposure he'd not have had otherwise, now he's living in Orli's house and there's stuff from Global Cool lying around for the looking at.
It's hard to be optimistic, though, in the face of the reaction to the report. It's just so grim, and seems so impossible to do anything about. It's when Linda Ronstadt comes on the Oldies station back in California and Henry catches it over his friend's phone that they each laugh and agree that it's a workable problem, step by step, and there's every reason to plan for a future while taking care of the present. Poor Poor Pitiful Me may not be great writing but the sentiment is right for two boys, young men, bemoaning having to choose between leaving the cell-phone charger plugged in or planning ahead for the next ten years' habits. They end up planning a little video of clips of themselves and their mutual friends doing Cool things to toss up on the blogs, then talk about the more immediate stuff, like how to get their homework done when there's fun to be had and home to miss.
Hunter prattles on to the flight attendant for a while about his Dad's house and the dogs and Disneyland and building things, then falls asleep curled up in the seat clutching the airline blanket and a postcard of the pier in town that he'd insisted on carrying with him. The attendant looks at the little boy who clearly feels safe and confident alone in the big plane with only his father's love and mother's home to protect him, and thinks how lucky he is, and what good parents he has. It crosses her mind that he's leaving Winter and flying to Summer with nary a Spring day in between; she shrugs, thinking that as long as we have time at all, when and what we call it really doesn't matter.
Russian Pathfinder site
Pairings