1st roll, 2nd exposure | Video

[strangeandunusual]

[the feed shows a sunny spot in an alley, just outside the Gibson Girl. Lydia has borrowed one of their tables and set it with an assortment of snacks, fruit, a pile of napkins, a stack of glasses, and a pitcher of their amazing lemonade... but the clear focus of the shot is propped against the alley wall: a giant book that anyone from the Temple party of the Jungle mission will recognize as a retired but unusual tent. She's wearing black jeans with splatters of maroon spray paint, courtesy of her roommate's creativity, and a matching brocade top, with a large, full envelope in her hands. The envelope is 8x10, yellow slashed with red diagonal lines.]

Hi, everybody. I've met most of you, I think, but my name is Lydia Deetz, and I work at the camera shop when I'm not training. I take pictures when I'm out exploring, and when we have parties, and meetings ... pretty much all the time. My friend Fenton made this giant book with his magic as a mistake, but... I want to turn it into a big photo album for all of us, as a record of everything that happens. I have a lot of pictures already, from the first two months I've been here... And some of them are from the other night, so you're all here.

[she pats the envelope]

One of my favorite myths about photography is some people think it steals your soul. Not really, but... It helps keep a memory. And memories are part of our soul, so ... Maybe what it really does is make our souls stronger. If we're going to be doing a lot of fighting and exploring and repairing... We're going to need to be strong. So. Maybe this will help. I'm in the alley by the Gibson Girl, if you want to come and help... Or even if you want to just look at the pictures. Once all the pictures are in, I'll keep it in the lobby of the apartments until I get more.

[an awkward pause as she realizes she has no clue how to end this]

Um. Hope to see some of you?

Comments

[guitar_hero]

"They want an individual one." He returns the grin, proud of her handling of the situation honestly. Small as it is. "And bigger than Bananabread's." Because of course.

"Mind if I take a look through what you got?" He gestures to the book, letting Lydia take care of Samson Jones' ego.

[strangeandunusual]

"I can try to get bigger photo paper, Samson, but I can't promise anything. Maybe we can get Mal to paint you a mural."

She scans the street until she finds an appropriately grand backdrop against a fountain and a flower cart: traditional, but subtly allowing for their sensitive side. "Go right ahead, Doctor. .... Samson, if you stand right there I can get the light in your mane."

If someone had told her she would be doing Glamour Shots for horses ... She grinned as she got out her camera and set up the tripod, adjusting its height to be mindful of the angle. If a horse had a preferred pronoun, well. Certain things should not show up in the shot. "Okay, give me your best pose!"

As she started snapping, and Samson gave her Warhorse, Black Beauty, Misty of Chincoteague, Hidalgo, and that Blue Steel of equines - Seabiscuit - the Doctor would find a marvelous variation of shots. Artsier photos of the jungle from her trips, more informative ones meant to teach Apprentices about what was out there, and of course, plenty of portraits and candids. There was a gorgeous portrait of Dreamfinder with Figment on his shoulder where she'd caught them both laughing, a shot from training of a disgruntled yet regal Hades using Pain as a foot stool and Panic as a donut holder (half a dozen on each horn), and Merlin poring over his books, Archimedes snoozing on top of his chair, the light artfully catching the steam from his tea so that it looked aglow. But there are two prints of one particular piece, and she's taped a note with his name to one.

It's a candid. He probably didn't even notice that she caught him on his break, lounging in the cart with a cup of coffee and his guitar beside him, arms crossed behind his head, sunning himself. The Doctor, domestic, comfortable, and somehow, even briefly, appearing to be at peace. The funniest thing is... if he touches it, he might feel an echo of that moment. Lydia has yet to realize it, but healing has many forms.

[guitar_hero]

Samson seems happy to pose and is good at it.

The Doctor, for his part, looks at the photographs, impressed by them. She's really good at it. It's more than just pictures frozen in time, it's a moment-- No, it's the essence of a moment. Every photo tells a story in its own way and he can feel things from them, vague psychic, or maybe magic, impressions.

"These are brilliant." He calls this, loud enough for her to hear. Then he sees himself himself. It makes him pause a moment like pictures of himself himself that he didn't mean for it to happen usually do. He feels a slight habitual consternation. It's always awkward to be photographed and end up in a book, then come back fifty, twenty, seven hundred decades later and have people double take. Then he has to go either the whole ancestor route or ignore it.

But here, at least, it was different.

He looks at himself for a long moment, then takes the note, careful not to touch the photograph, and opens it.

[strangeandunusual]

The note is written in a passable cursive for a sixteen-year-old: the sort of cursive that says she's making an effort to be better at it than she was when she was actually taught.

This is my favorite picture of you. I want you to have a copy, so I made two. I'm really awful at notes but I'd probably do even worse saying this out loud. We haven't been here very long at all but you mean a lot to me. I don't think I'd be doing half as well here if you hadn't been the first person I spoke to. So. A picture isn't the best thank you present, but maybe it's a start. ღ Lydia

She approaches with a shy smile - even more shy because he's complimented her work, and she's still getting used to that from people. Especially people who are so dear to her.

"Thank you. ... Buggy even said I should have a gallery. Have you met him, yet? He's from the same world as Ace."

[guitar_hero]

He tucks the letter and the picture into his pocket, pleased with it. He'll have to hold on to it, though he's not sure if he'll hang it up. It's still nice to have. She was a considerate girl and, more than that, he's glad that they're becoming friends.

"I mean, I've seen him. He's kind of hard to miss. I've got to wonder what shampoo he uses. I mean, he's a pirate, isn't he? But he looks like he can be in a Brita commercial." Or something like that.

"But why not a Gallery? All you'd need is a space to rent, right? I could be a patron." He's never been good with money and doesn't have a whole lot of needs and so has extra. "Or we could make one..." He taps his sonic against his jaw. "No law against magical construction, right?"

[strangeandunusual]

She laughs at the Brita joke, pleased and grateful that he's able to move on from the note and not embarrass her making A Thing of it. "He must get it special from somewhere. I know he takes a lot of pride in showmanship, so his hair's got to be part of it."

But then he starts talking seriously about the Gallery, and she realizes that she's crossing over some strange, invisible meridian into legitimate artisanship. People have stopped patting her on the head and just saying 'that's nice, pumpkin' and are really making something of her work. Really being affected by it. And ... it terrifies her, but at the same time, who is she to hold herself back?

"No," she says, with a sudden burst of excitement that threatens to lift her off her feet. Literally. "No, I don't think there is. But where would we put it?"

[guitar_hero]

"Good question... Maybe the garden... Oh!" He snaps his fingers as a thought occurs to him. "You know? We could use the tent. I mean the gravity is wonky and there's that door, but it'll add to the ambiance. We could call it... The Freaky Gallery..." He thinks about that name. "No, let's work on that."

[strangeandunusual]

It hits her like a bolt from the blue.

"The Graven Image."

She shakes her head, grinning. "I can have Mal paint the tent on the outside to look like a mausoleum and make the inside all spooky. We can say the bad gravity is because it's a haunted gallery, and the spirit inside inspires everyone who comes in to enjoy the art!"

[guitar_hero]

"Ohh! I like that. Heeey!" He grins at her. "What if we do it around Halloween? That's coming up isn't it? Think of it! The Grand Opening. We can even have ghosts floating around. You know like a light show kind of thing. Maybe even a ghost host. Or costumes."

[strangeandunusual]

"Yes!!" She may only have a handful of sparks to her name, but at the surge of excitement and imagination that rushes through her, they lift her a few inches off the ground. She claps both hands over her mouth in glee. "Doctor, that's perfect! We could make a costume party part of the Grand Opening, and whoever wins gets their portrait taken!"

[guitar_hero]

"What about not just taken but displayed prominently. I'm sure that you'll want to take photos of everyone who comes through. No need to limit yourself. But a prominent display could help both." And would be worth competing for to some.

"If we can talk to the right people, we could even have it catered." He didn't know who. He knew you could hire waiters to serve too tiny tasty food while looking like penguins. He'd done that once or twice when attempting to do something else. But he didn't know the how to.