Eleven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bearshermark) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tramitem_log2020-02-23 10:19 am
bearshermark) wrote in tramitem_log2020-02-23 10:19 am
I turned over the map for the inside of my mind
Who: Elliott (Eleven) and OPEN
What: Elliott doin' a heckin' research
When: Feb 16th-28th
Where: New York Public Library
Rating/Warnings: Low-key anxious teenager
To think only a few weeks ago, he'd lamented the fact that all of his friends were growing up. Getting jobs or else bogged down by responsibility, increasingly short on time to hang out like they used to. And now here he was, holed up in the library every day after school and every weekend, more relieved than anything that he didn't have to explain himself to many of them. Sitting in relative peace with a stack of books to work through while he flipped between tabs of scattered information on his laptop.
It didn't make a great deal of practical sense, but the public space felt safer than attempting to study alone at home. The library had a productive atmosphere, he reasoned: an air of focus in the shuffle of papers and heavy thump of closed books while still maintaining a quiet sense of community.
In such a space, he didn't feel at all remarkable. To everyone there, he was just a perfectly ordinary high school student working on perfectly ordinary schoolwork. Though occasionally, he did quickly change tabs or shift in his seat to discretely obscure more esoteric texts- a guilty habit he had yet to break himself of. No one would care about what he was reading, he knew, yet still the sense of self-consciousness persisted.
And then there were times he zoned out while he read or scrolled down a page, either intensely focused or not at all, and jumped back to reality whenever someone brushed by his seat. Always offering a nervous greeting and silently praying no one decided to sit next to him. His materials were spread about a bit rudely to that effect, scattered to take up more table space than strictly necessary to make sitting elsewhere an easier choice for most.
Unfortunately, it didn't always work.
"Oh, uh, sorry, let me move that.."
What: Elliott doin' a heckin' research
When: Feb 16th-28th
Where: New York Public Library
Rating/Warnings: Low-key anxious teenager
To think only a few weeks ago, he'd lamented the fact that all of his friends were growing up. Getting jobs or else bogged down by responsibility, increasingly short on time to hang out like they used to. And now here he was, holed up in the library every day after school and every weekend, more relieved than anything that he didn't have to explain himself to many of them. Sitting in relative peace with a stack of books to work through while he flipped between tabs of scattered information on his laptop.
It didn't make a great deal of practical sense, but the public space felt safer than attempting to study alone at home. The library had a productive atmosphere, he reasoned: an air of focus in the shuffle of papers and heavy thump of closed books while still maintaining a quiet sense of community.
In such a space, he didn't feel at all remarkable. To everyone there, he was just a perfectly ordinary high school student working on perfectly ordinary schoolwork. Though occasionally, he did quickly change tabs or shift in his seat to discretely obscure more esoteric texts- a guilty habit he had yet to break himself of. No one would care about what he was reading, he knew, yet still the sense of self-consciousness persisted.
And then there were times he zoned out while he read or scrolled down a page, either intensely focused or not at all, and jumped back to reality whenever someone brushed by his seat. Always offering a nervous greeting and silently praying no one decided to sit next to him. His materials were spread about a bit rudely to that effect, scattered to take up more table space than strictly necessary to make sitting elsewhere an easier choice for most.
Unfortunately, it didn't always work.
"Oh, uh, sorry, let me move that.."
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"It's just that I don't know what to be careful about. I mean, I'm not-" he glances around a bit. "Not telling anyone I'm- well, I might tell my mom but.. other than that, is there anything you think I should be watching out for?"
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She shivers, despite the heat in the library being turned up plenty high, and to distract herself she turns a bit more stern. "So don't let anything happen! I won't be happy if I hear about you getting into trouble. Well, that kind of trouble," Lisa adds quickly. "Feel free to get into whatever other trouble you like." She winks at him, trying to take some of the unhappy implications out of her continued worried rambling.
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'Don't get into trouble' seems to be a recurring theme, lately. It occurs to him that there's a lot of trouble he could have been getting into while his mom was away in her business trip, but simply hasn't thought to.
He clears his throat and fidgets at his laptop keys, attempting to refocus.
"I won't," he assures. "I'm not- I mean, other than environmental activism rallies, I don't want to cause problems for anyone."
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"I have a feeling those don't cause as much trouble as you want me to think they do," she says after a minute, grinning. "But thanks, that's honestly reassuring. I think you're probably less likely to find trouble than me anyway." She glances meaningfully at her gig bag, before shaking her head. "And sorry, I'm probably being a little too hard on you. I'm just worried, you know? This is... kinda weird."
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