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trans_92010-07-06 08:37 pm
rogues-luck.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92010-07-06 08:37 pm
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Of Wheat Kings And Pretty Things | [Open]
Everyone had their secrets- that was part of life. Some were good, some were bad, and some were so out there that people generally seemed to ignore them. Growing up on Tatooine there had been many things people being raised on the dustball of a planet were expected to be. You were strong or you didn't survive for long. Work was always needed doing when it came to living in the more remote areas of the planet with the constant sand storms that sent people scattering for shelter and devastating the moisture vaporators. Gavin had been a kid when his parents moved their large family to the old Lars Homestead finding the freedom the space brought to them needed as well as doing right by the previous owner after the Lars' had died. Finding space to be himself was beyond possible at times unless the youth found the little nooks and crannies the homestead had to offer.
No one knew that he could draw. Being artistic wasn't something that the planet could offer anyone and his parents had never known their eldest child could do it. Well they had known when he was younger until Biggs had relentlessly teased him for having bigger dreams of doing something other than staying on Tatooine. That was the day Davin had stopped talking to people or showing them what he could do. You couldn't be tough and doodle sketches, his cousin had told him. Secretly he had kept it up though taking what chances or less hours of sleep he could just to capture those little moments that would make the day.
Gavin wasn't exactly sure how he had found the supplies in the city. Poking around enough empty buildings had given him a full sketch book, various colored pencils, and some charcoal sticks. With his old books being gone the memories since leaving Tatooine, even prior to joining the Rogues, were sketchy at best. Which was the reason the young man was curled up in one of the chairs in the observation deck in a back corner facing the stars where hopefully no one he knew could find him out. In only a few hours his fingers had turned black from smudging lines and shading, the book already near half full with things he wanted to remember and faces that he knew. Wes, Hobbie, Lujayne, Corran, Mirax, Ooryl, just to name a few who weren't there, even spreading out to previous planets or combat missions. Then people on the ship with happy expressions before the battle with the Ohm to the more sober looks of near defeated crew members who were just pleased to be alive. Yes, even the cake had made it in to one doodled corner with a knife sticking out of it. Raising his hand, Gavin rubbed at his cheek with his thumb leaving a trail of black that was sort of hard to miss. He was lost in his own little world and very prone to someone walking up on him.
No one knew that he could draw. Being artistic wasn't something that the planet could offer anyone and his parents had never known their eldest child could do it. Well they had known when he was younger until Biggs had relentlessly teased him for having bigger dreams of doing something other than staying on Tatooine. That was the day Davin had stopped talking to people or showing them what he could do. You couldn't be tough and doodle sketches, his cousin had told him. Secretly he had kept it up though taking what chances or less hours of sleep he could just to capture those little moments that would make the day.
Gavin wasn't exactly sure how he had found the supplies in the city. Poking around enough empty buildings had given him a full sketch book, various colored pencils, and some charcoal sticks. With his old books being gone the memories since leaving Tatooine, even prior to joining the Rogues, were sketchy at best. Which was the reason the young man was curled up in one of the chairs in the observation deck in a back corner facing the stars where hopefully no one he knew could find him out. In only a few hours his fingers had turned black from smudging lines and shading, the book already near half full with things he wanted to remember and faces that he knew. Wes, Hobbie, Lujayne, Corran, Mirax, Ooryl, just to name a few who weren't there, even spreading out to previous planets or combat missions. Then people on the ship with happy expressions before the battle with the Ohm to the more sober looks of near defeated crew members who were just pleased to be alive. Yes, even the cake had made it in to one doodled corner with a knife sticking out of it. Raising his hand, Gavin rubbed at his cheek with his thumb leaving a trail of black that was sort of hard to miss. He was lost in his own little world and very prone to someone walking up on him.
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"Those are really good, by the way." the blonde woman adds as an afterthought, peeking over Gavin's shoulder to look at his drawings. She recognized a few of the figures in his drawings as fellow crewmembers (and for a second, she wondered if she was in there anywhere), but for the most part the subjects were unfamiliar.
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Slightly a hint of red started to creep up across his neck and the tips of his ears as she leaned over his shoulder to take a look at what he was doing. "Thanks. They aren't that great- just something to help keep me occupied while I wait for my r2 unit to do a systems check for me." And to help prolong the whole going to sleep thing. Really- he didn't want to try sleeping any time soon.
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"Well, the best I can do is stick people, so compared to me you're amazing." she points out, giving Gavin a friendly smile.
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Her compliment got the color to darkening a little as the blush grew. True, Gavin didn't think his stuff as all that great. It was just a hobby after all- nothing he'd ever do outside of working with the Rogues. Taking compliments on said art was also something he wasn't used to and one of the reasons a bashful smile worked its way up across his face. "I don't get to do it often. Most of my friends don't even know I do this when they aren't around."
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"Any reason why not? Everyone needs a hobby, and it's not as if this is anything embarrassing. Besides, if you don't find something to do with your spare time on this ship you'll probably go mad."
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For a moment the younger of the two simply watched Wyn, his mind working on trying to figure out exactly how to word what he was going to say. "It's not a good skill I guess. I mean, there's so much more important things going on that need to be done than spending time on something like this." Casually the man rolled his shoulders. Maybe it was a sign of being weak- it reminded him every time Biggs had teased him as a kid about drawing or the like.
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"Hey, you're pretty good." Axl leaned in a little closer, although after a moment he realized that might be an unwanted invasion of personal space and backed up a fraction.
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"Ah.. thanks.. Just some random stuff. Nothing to great."
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"Nothing too great is still miles ahead of most of us. Even my stick figures come out ugly."
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Smirking, he noticed the black on his hands, wiping them off on a space piece of cloth he'd picked up just for that purpose. The smudges on his face would go unnoticed or unattended to for now unless they were to be pointed out. "I doubt that. One person's art is another person's treasure. Or at least I think that's the saying."
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"I've never gotten anything but grief for my artistic skills. Of course, that might have more to do with the part where I only showed them off on the halls outside the high commander's office back home..."
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"My older cousin used to do that to me a lot. It's one of the major reasons I stopped showing anyone anything I've done." Of course most of that was lost now where ever his old books were at now that was. If Stacy had them he'd love them back, but the man doubted that she had saved them in the process of saving others.
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Sitting still, needless to say, was rarely very high on Axl's priority list.
"Art was never really my thing, though. Unless pranks count as performance art."
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"It is unwise to be so distracted." Clearly, Javert has no artist's soul.
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"Can't miss the opportunity for a couple of minutes worth of calm." Honestly Gavin wasn't sure who had told him that, but he did try to a chance for a minute or two for centering himself before getting back to work. It helped some when the situation was stressed beyond limits and, from what he could see, they were in that area as a crew.
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"I suppose not. Calm! There's hardly any calm here." It made Javert want to pick up his preferred past time-- But for that, he wanted privacy, and such was hard to find in this hellhole.