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Friends Both in Need, Indeed

April 16th, 2010 (01:40 am)
blah

current location: Diagon and beyond
current mood: blah

I’m beginnin’ to get the itch for true spring, I am. While I don’t usually mind the cold and clammy air of winter all that much, it’s been kind of a tough one to get through what with nobody to keep my hands nor my heart warm. It’s starting to feel like there’s a chill settlin’ in to stay, and much as I don’t know what the hell I wanna do with my outside-work life right now, I know I don’t want that.

So when one of our pulverized potion ingredient suppliers comes up short a delivery wizard, and we need it fast at the Wheezes, I volunteer to make the walk down to the farthest end of Diagon. It’s kinda nice down there, really. Turns into somethin’ of a country lane down there, little brook off to the side babblin’ along through a little woods. Figure the air an’ the lack o’ four walls around me might just do me some good.

I head off ‘bout mid-afternoon, tryin’ to politely, if not energetical-like, return the smiles and waves of the people on the Alley I know, and walkin’ a bit faster to get on beyond ‘em quicker too.

I leave the lane about the time I run outta shops around me and figure I’ll wander the brook for a bit, maybe toss in a rock or two – or maybe even a knut for luck iffin I’ve got one with me. But it looks like someone’s beat me to it, this brook-walkin’ thing. And it’s a familiar someone, too. She looks like she’s deep in thought, and with that one, I know deep thought can be a coupla planets away.

“Luna?” I say, tryin not to be loud and speakin' from a few meters away so that I don’t startle her outta her thoughts too fast.

Both her hands are clasped at the front of ‘er large coat and I see the sun what’s coming in catch red and blue flashes on her hand. One hand slides up and a finger hooks over her chin for a mo, fore tappin and she looks up, like her finger’s the one what heard me and was bringin her to attention.

She looks for a second, then tilts ‘er head to the side and smiles. “Oh. Hello Fred or George.”

"Hello, Luna," I tell her. "And it's Fred, not George. No problem ya didn't know, but just so ya do now."

“Oh, alright. It makes it a little easier to talk, I think, so I can just say one name. You look rather introspective.”

"Do I? Introspective, eh? Well, can't say as many people have ever described me like that, but then you've never been like many other people," I tell her."And I should tell you I see that as a good thing."

Her smile widens. “You certainly are unlike others, yourself. Nobody else might have suggested I have a business. But if everybody were the same, there would be no progress, would there?”

"No, I don't s'pose there would." I look around her to see what she mighta been doin', if she was doin' anything at all."So...you workin' on anything down here, or ya just seein' what the brook tells ya? Rumour has it they're terrible babblers. Might be tough to understand it, though."

“Oh, I don’t know,” she sighs. “I was hoping it could help, but perhaps I’m grasping at nargles.”

"Hmm - yeah, nargles could be distracting at at times like these, I'll give ya that," I agree. "But, if I'm not imposin' or nothin', you said you were hopin' the brook would help. I'm just a lowly wizard 'stead of a brook, but is there anythin' I might be able to help ya with?"

She sighs again, but this time it’s a bit more disappointed and a mite testy. “Nargles aren’t real.”

"Real or not, they can still be distracting," I tell her. "Daydreams aren't real neither, but I know I've had some damned distracting daydreams. Anyway, back to this help thing. Anythin' I can do?" A sudden shiver goes through me. "Not too warm out here yet, is it? Sunshine or no."

“I suppose I don’t notice,” she says, looking down at the water, “living in Scotland as we do, but perhaps you’re right.”

"Yeah, perhaps ya don't, but I have to break it to ya, I am right." I look back toward the village and notice a few tiny new shops at the end and toward the back of the old buildings that hold the suppliers' place. Looks like one's got flowers, one's got - can't tell that one, and closest to us, one with what looks like a brand new sign that says 'Sereni-Tea'. "Hey Luna, you ever see those places before? Those little shops up there."

She tilts her head to one side and looks up. “Only the tea shop. They have a lovely selection. Do you fancy warming up over a pot?”

"Oh yeah," I tell her, beginnin' to feel my toes go numb as a stiff breeze blows down the brook. "I fancy that a whole lot. I won't be interruptin' ya from what you got goin' down here, right? Iffin we head on up there all soonish-like?"

“No, I suppose you would be more help than the brook, in any case, since you’re one too.”

I blink at her for a mo. "Am I now? And what would I be one of too?" Yeah, this oughtta be good.

Her eyes go all wide, lookin about twice as big, pale as they are. “Well, like me. Not stuck, anyhow, at least I don’t think. But perhaps you are and that’s why you’re here, too.”

Long as I've known Luna, she's always had this uncanny way of cuttin' right to the chase and knowin' more than anybody can ever figure out how. "Hmm. Well, yeah I suppose you could say I am stuck, in a way. But I'm not sure it's in a way I can work myself out of right soon, or maybe even work myself out of by myself. Hard to tell, really."

“Perhaps a bit of company could help us both,” she muses, lookin up at the tea shop. “At least nudge us loose from the dried mud.”

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Posted by: nm_fred (nm_fred)
Posted at: May 8th, 2010 08:51 am (UTC)
listening

Luna tilts her head and sorta looks off a bit. “I don’t really remember what my mum said. I know she liked honey, the kiss of a flower to a bee, and a gift of a bee to our table.”

I try to stifle the mental image of a little cartoon bee carrying a pressie with a big red bow on top ahead of him as he flies it to the Lovegood's breakfast table. " Yeah, I - I could see that, I suppose."

“Oh, can you?” She sounds right excited about that.

"Er - well, yeah, in my mind, sorta." As happy as that makes Luna, I really hate to let her down. "Well, pretty clearly now, actually."

“How fabulous,” she gushes. “Nobody ever did before, or I think even wanted to, you know, anything.”

I can't help but give a smile at her enthusiasm. "Yeah, well I s'pose it comes with the territory, ya know? When you're an inventor like you 'n me are, we gotta be able to see things in our heads that a lotta other people can't."

“Imagination,” she says with a knowing nod. “Inventions are the manifestations of our mind’s creations.”

"So very true, that!" I agree. "And for those of us what don't eat so well without the manifestations of our minds' creations bein' good ones, imagination's our only hope, eh?"

She pauses for a mo and then sighs. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

"What's all the sad sighin' for, love? It's hard to imagine it with you, but sounds like you got an imagination frustration, it does." She does have sort of a wistful, droopy look in her eyes.

“Yes, I do,” she says. “It’s stuck. The things it imagines can’t be done yet, at least by me. And it hasn’t dreamed of anything in quite a while.”

"Awww," I say, reachin' over an' pattin' her hand. "That happens to the lot of us, it does! Geordie an' me, we're just lucky because there's two of us: one of our imaginations sputters and spits for awhile, an' we got the other to take over for a bit till we're back in workin' order again. But I know it's gotta be tough on ya with only one of ya for backup. Anythin' I might be able to do to help ya on out?"

“Well, what do you do?” she asks. “When you’re stuck?”

"Hmm, well..." That's got me thinkin' it does. "Thing is, it's not always the same sorta things. Sometimes just sorta relaxin' and clearin' my mind works best. Sometimes watchin' an old movie. Sometimes just goin' out for a walk, like you were doin' before. That why you were doin' it?"

She nods. “Yes. I have been going for walks and watching people and doing anything that I can think of to be inspired, but nothing works.”

"Well - sometimes I go wanderin' arond to shops an' see what they got what's new and different and stuff. See if what inspired other people inspires me too. You're welcome to come back to the shop with me iffin ya like, or I'll walk ya around Diagon iffin ya s'pose that might help."


“No, I’ve done that, too.” She sighs again just as the lady comes back with our tea.

"Hmmm. Ya ever justy go down to your workshop - or wherever ya do your inventin' - and play?" I ask. "Just playin', not even hopin' to invent somethin', works a lot for me. Ya might try that."

“Well…no,” she says simply. “I’m very careful. My mother died inventing, you know.”

"Oh yeah, that's right..." I say quietly, but then I gotta perk 'er up and be encouragin', it seems. "But most of the time you can be careful and still have a good ol' time playin', 'least in our workshop. Wanna come play in ours for a while? We got it pretty well disaster-proofed, we do, me an' Geordie. And if not? Meh. What's a little bang or two?"

“Your workshop?” she asks, her wide eyes lookin even more wide. “Really? That does sound like fun.”

"Sure, why not? I'm sure Geordie wouldn't care," I tell her, grinnin' that she's lookin' perky, finally. "Hell, we might even learn somethin' new and different from you!"

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