Post by Nagareboshi Koi on Nov 7, 2017 16:34:21 GMT -5
Of all the strange adversaries she figured she’d confront in a place like this, stress was certainly toward the back of the line. And yet, with the same indignance and sickeningly excessive confidence, it had waltzed right back in, weighing down on her shoulders, anchoring her already mediocre posture into an even more pronounced slump.
Like a thief cloaked by the shadows of night, the inevitable anxiety and irritation of knowing that she should be utilizing her time for work instead of relaxation left its footprints in her mind. Koi had always struggled to use her downtime to breathe— she never could shake the omnipresent memory that she had studying to do, she had research to file, she had books to read and numbers to figure and taxonomy to examine and so many other things that came first in line. When she had work at hand, she’d always dedicate everything to completing it.
But here, in this warm, inviting little lodge, with only the bare minimum of her research and not a bit of work to accomplish? She still felt hollow.
The paleontologist paced in the halls, thin lips pursed in aggravation, tension bristling in her every motion. Her footsteps were repetitive and calculated, a continuous cycle of moving past the doors and looping back around in a distended oval. Pale fingers gripped the edges of her skirt, longing for the solidity of a pencil and the familiar scent of her science books, forced instead to make do with carefully-stitched fabric.
Koi sighed, reclining against the wall. Some scraps of her research were packed away in her room, but she didn’t have anything more to do with her notes. She had no bones to examine, no timelines to analyze, no nothing — just some thrice-annotated, neatly written notes that she’d planned to present to the HPA officials.
She hated ted the word “boring,” she really did. She believed that intrigue could be found almost anywhere if you looked hard enough for it. But the time had come to face the facts— she was absolutely, positively bored out of her mind.
With a soft grumble under her breath, she slipped into one of the rooms she’d been pacing past for around thirty minutes, hoping to find some useful way to pass her time— when her eyes fell upon the layout within. Shelves neatly packed with seldom-used board games practically covered the back wall. Several tables dappled the floorboards, all clustered by masses of chairs— clearly set up for games involving entire groups. It was a cozy little room, and though she knew that she should be inspecting the library right now, she couldn’t force her feet from moving over to the shelves.
Boxes ornamented every slot— the bright colors of Sorry!, packs of cards intended for Go Fish or blackjack, some particularly eye-catching trivia games...and of course, the familiar cream-and-ebony staple of chess.
She’d be lying if she said she paused in plucking it right off its shelf.
Laying out the flat board and placing the pieces in their designated slots, Koi did not delay in preparing one of the smaller tables for a game of chess. It was a lovely mind-clearer— something to banish away the stress of now and translate the burdens of one’s mind into pure strategy. Of course, chess did require two people, as did most games. Playing against herself was not an option.
But as if some heavenly figure had heard tell of her frustrations, the door to the game room swung open, unveiling a figure Koi really had yet to chat with.
Like a thief cloaked by the shadows of night, the inevitable anxiety and irritation of knowing that she should be utilizing her time for work instead of relaxation left its footprints in her mind. Koi had always struggled to use her downtime to breathe— she never could shake the omnipresent memory that she had studying to do, she had research to file, she had books to read and numbers to figure and taxonomy to examine and so many other things that came first in line. When she had work at hand, she’d always dedicate everything to completing it.
But here, in this warm, inviting little lodge, with only the bare minimum of her research and not a bit of work to accomplish? She still felt hollow.
The paleontologist paced in the halls, thin lips pursed in aggravation, tension bristling in her every motion. Her footsteps were repetitive and calculated, a continuous cycle of moving past the doors and looping back around in a distended oval. Pale fingers gripped the edges of her skirt, longing for the solidity of a pencil and the familiar scent of her science books, forced instead to make do with carefully-stitched fabric.
Koi sighed, reclining against the wall. Some scraps of her research were packed away in her room, but she didn’t have anything more to do with her notes. She had no bones to examine, no timelines to analyze, no nothing — just some thrice-annotated, neatly written notes that she’d planned to present to the HPA officials.
She hated ted the word “boring,” she really did. She believed that intrigue could be found almost anywhere if you looked hard enough for it. But the time had come to face the facts— she was absolutely, positively bored out of her mind.
With a soft grumble under her breath, she slipped into one of the rooms she’d been pacing past for around thirty minutes, hoping to find some useful way to pass her time— when her eyes fell upon the layout within. Shelves neatly packed with seldom-used board games practically covered the back wall. Several tables dappled the floorboards, all clustered by masses of chairs— clearly set up for games involving entire groups. It was a cozy little room, and though she knew that she should be inspecting the library right now, she couldn’t force her feet from moving over to the shelves.
Boxes ornamented every slot— the bright colors of Sorry!, packs of cards intended for Go Fish or blackjack, some particularly eye-catching trivia games...and of course, the familiar cream-and-ebony staple of chess.
She’d be lying if she said she paused in plucking it right off its shelf.
Laying out the flat board and placing the pieces in their designated slots, Koi did not delay in preparing one of the smaller tables for a game of chess. It was a lovely mind-clearer— something to banish away the stress of now and translate the burdens of one’s mind into pure strategy. Of course, chess did require two people, as did most games. Playing against herself was not an option.
But as if some heavenly figure had heard tell of her frustrations, the door to the game room swung open, unveiling a figure Koi really had yet to chat with.
”Oh! It’s...Nadeshiko-san, correct? Care to join me for a game of chess?”