the meaning of art

who: roy and shannah
where: the gallery then the diner
when: afternoon

Grady headed towards the gallery in hopes he'd catch one of the girls, and in a position to head out for a little while. He knew sometimes they got busy, but a lot of times it didn't matter if they took off for a while. He'd met the owner through his sister, when Marian had done the story for the Echo about him. Shannah had taken the photographs for it, and she was a sweet girl. So, he'd kept in touch, met the other girl who worked there, and these days sometimes he popped in to say hello.

Today had started sort of dully and he sort of felt like he needed something to cheer himself up. He had days like this, where he'd wake up, and things were too quiet, and he didn't know what to do with himself. He just knew better than to sit alone at the motel doing nothing when they occurred. He needed more positive outlets on those days and one of them was spending time with sweet girls.

He ducked his head into the gallery, glancing around. "Hello?" he called, before walking in properly, glancing at the time as he did so. He’d thought it was a little past noon, but it was later than that, apparently. His sense of time wasn't all that accurate.

Shannah had just gotten back from speaking with Stella about her art pieces for the upcoming show. Luckily, the pieces weren't that large and she'd managed to find a way to incorporate the new pieces without compromising the space of the other artist. So currently she was in the back half of the gallery, looking at the white walls and wondering what Madeline's idea for a temporary wall would look like when it was finalized.

The voice she heard was familiar and it spurred her from her thoughts. Light clicks of heel on hardwood echoed as Shannah hurried to the front and smiled at who she saw there. "Grady, what a nice surprise! How nice to see you. How are you?"

He smiled as he saw her, and he headed further into the gallery towards her. "Alright," he answered, which was usually his answer. He tended to give that one regardless of how he was. People, in his experience, didn't want to have a real answer, they wanted a superficial one. Especially from people like him because a lot of days weren't all that good. But, he still smiled at her, he was good at giving the light answer, looking like he meant it. "How're you? Anything new and interesting come by?" he asked, glancing around. He didn't know much about art himself, but Shannah did. And he liked when she talked about it. She lit up in a way that he liked to see, just from an outside looking in perspective. He just liked seeing how people were passionate about things. He liked seeing it in her.

"I'm doing well, thank you. I accidentally slept in today, but luckily I have Madeline here and she's got to be the world's best employee, so nothing too major happened." She was lucky that she hadn't been hit by her condition around Grady yet. She really didn't want to lie to him, but that was generally how it went with these things. Only a few people knew the real reason behind what happened and she was lucky enough to have that handful of people actually believe her. Otherwise, she made up lies about sleep deprivation or exhaustion and then tried to change the subject very quickly. "We have a couple new things. They're supposed to be secret and private until the show opening, but I think I could swing a little show if you want to see some of them. But you're sworn to secrecy," She said, giving him a look of faux seriousness.

Totally unaware of sleeping issues, he just accepted what she said and walked closer. He kept himself sufficiently distant, not liking to enter people's personal space unless either invited to do so, or it seemed that was the natural thing to do. He was just aware of the fact that he was a soldier, and for some people that made them uncomfortable, like they were running questions through the back of their minds. 'Has he killed anyone?' being the most likely. So, he didn't want to give anyone reason to back off. Which didn't mean that he didn't trail in her wake just a little to catch a little scent of her perfume when possible. "I swear, I shall tell no one of the things I see here today. I'll treat it like a matter of national security." he told her with a serious look too--though there was a little spark in his eyes that held humor. He was pleased, though, to hear that there was something. He just liked having her show him things. That, much more than the actual artwork.

"Good," She said, tossing him a smile over her shoulder before leading him further into the gallery and back to where the newest pieces were settling. Lining the right walls were about five pieces of work from Stella, the female artist she was presenting in the show. To the left were equal numbers of pieces from the male artist in the show. What Shoshannah had been focused on was a collection of three smaller pieces, meant to be hung up vertically in a line, that were made by Stella.

"These just came in today. And by came in, I actually mean I went to pick them up from the artist's apartment, but you know, basically the same thing. They're not doing themselves justice right now just propped up against the wall. When they're hung fully, they'll be three sections of one piece and will be hung up in a line going down." Shannah took a step back and settled beside Roy, gazing at the small squares. Depicted on them was a rush of color that bled from reds and oranges at the top, trickled down through the second canvas into yellows and greens that filtered into blues and finally a deep purple at the very end. "They'll be gorgeous when they're hung right. Not that they aren't gorgeous now, but the full effect isn't there yet. Either way, they're vibrant and vivid and just beautiful, don't you think?"

He looked at the pieces, though his attention was on her. This was the part he liked, where she was looking at them, and explaining things to him. There was just something about it he truly appreciated on a deep level. There was a smile hovering on his lips, light but present. "What do they say to you?" he asked. "What do they mean?" He always let her fill in that blank, wanting to know how he was meant to react to the paintings, but mostly it was more of her talking about them, and she was passionate about them in general. It was that way she was fully into the topic he truly loved seeing.

"Sometimes, art doesn't have to mean anything. Sometimes it's just about doing something you need to do for yourself, but then I guess it does mean something to them." She smiled again at Roy, but looked back at the pieces. She'd found herself caught up in this trio of work, wondering exactly what it meant to her and what it would mean to other people. "For me, I have to wonder if we, all of us looking at it...if we aren't blind to some degree before we see it. Maybe we can all look at things just fine, but really seeing them takes a lot more effort. But there's so much more of a reward there. Like..here, see how the yellows and oranges all swirl together, but you can still decipher the separate colors? It's not yellow-orange, it's not orange-yellow, but it's yellow and orange sort of..dancing together. And then lower, it bleeds and blends to greens and blues. And finally all of the colors run together into that deep purple at the end. It's beautiful. So what does that say? I know to some people it says that the artist wanted to paint them separately for no other reason that she might simply like them that way, but for me? For me it says that there's a beauty in what we do here. We walk down the streets every day and never know who or what we'll bump into, but maybe if we were a little more aware. we could appreciate others more. We could dance through our day, blending colors together in one way or another, until there aren't separate anymore. Until there's no need for them to be separate."

She straightened her back since she'd been hunching closer to the pictures, caught up in them once more, and smiled to Roy. "But it could mean something completely different to you. That's what's so fantastic about all of this. There isn't ever a wrong way to see something."

He just listened, giving her that light little smile. For him, he always did this--he much more reacted to her than the artwork she was presenting, and now was no different. Like maybe she was her own little work in progress and he just liked getting to see glimpses of that. When she talked about people not appreciating things, and a world of hope and possibility, he felt a little pang, a twinge of sadness. He knew what she was talking about. He tried to live his life like that these days, because he didn't know when the lights were going to go out. He didn't know when that shrapnel near his heart was going to tear into it, letting him bleed out on the inside. So maybe most people didn't do what she was describing, but he sort of had to. If he didn't, he'd drop into some pit of despair he wasn't going to crawl out of. "I think it's beautiful." he told her, though he meant more her than the painting. But it sounded like he was talking about the art.

"I'm glad." Shannah looked at him, her smile genuine. She really was glad that he liked what he was seeing. It was the whole point of this. "So many people don't think there's a place for things like art anymore. It's sad. It's even sadder to think that maybe, if everyone just took a moment to stop and look around them and find something beautiful or touching or..anything, really, that maybe the place in our lives for things like art and literature would could back." She gazed at the trio for another long moment before turning to Roy again with a smile on her lips. "You know, sometimes I think working here is going to put me in the poor house because all I want to do is bring all these pieces home with me. Do you want to see something else? I can show you something from the other artist's work we have here."

He almost opened his mouth, to talk to her about why people didn't. But in the end he didn't, not wanting to bring reality in and crash down her dreams like that. He wanted her to keep them. So he just didn't say anything. "Show me anything you want." he told her. "I'd love to see more." He liked seeing that light in her, and if there was more around to see it in, he would take it.

"Antonio's work is a little darker. We've got it set up this way so that they'll contrast each other, Stella's light and his dark. I hope it's going to make sense. I think it works but sometimes other people don't exactly like a contrasting show." She walked towards the opposite side of the room, towards the wall where the paintings were mainly shades of gray, white, and black but with little bits of red in them. "Antonio's work is a lot more concrete, I'd say. This one, for instance. You can see the people in the street. You can see that it's raining. You can see all the buildings, but it still brings out that emotion in you. It makes me wonder about the people, too. Do they have stories? Does he paint them with lives and families and friends or are they just people? I like to think that because I can some of their faces, it's more than just them walking in the rain. Maybe she's going home to a husband or he's got a family waiting for him. I want them all to go home to someplace warm and have someone waiting there for them. I know it must seem silly, but every time I look at this one, I just hope that they get out of the rain someday."

Roy watched her, listened as she spoke. Though the color scheme and content of the paintings she showed him there called a little more to him than other things had. So his eyes lingered there just slightly longer than usual, and he studied it more. He almost felt chilled, with the imagery, along with what she was saying about it. He knew what it was like in the freezing cold, and not getting to go home. And even here, he didn't have a proper home, and no one was there but his rifle. Usually he said something, commented at least a little, but he just nodded this time.

Shannah turned to check on him when he didn't say anything and saw a difference in him right away. She never knew when it would happen, but there was a piece of work that called to everyone. Maybe this was his. She took a step closer to him and reached out, placing her hand gently on his arm. "Are you all right?"

The light touch startled him a little bit, and that was clear with the shiver that went through him, and the blinking he did when he looked at her. Like it took a second for him to come back to himself, from the distant place his mind had been, it took a second to recognize her. He almost asked her to repeat herself, but her expression told him enough that he could figure out what she'd said. "I'm okay." he told her, and gave a light suggestion of a smile, but it never fully formed. "Sorry." he said, reaching up to drag his fingers through his hair. "Didn't mean to drift on you there." he said, eyes dropping to the floor. He did that sometimes. Kind of got lost a little bit in his own head and had to be tugged out of it. He was just embarrassed it happened in front of her.

"You don't have to apologize, Roy." Shannah didn't let her hand drop from his arm but instead just squeezed it a little tighter. "Trust me, I know how it is to drift." She felt like she knew drifting and losing time very well. She fell asleep for no reason and was left sometimes with hours and hours of lost time. But this was Roy. This was someone else and both concerned her and intrigued her. Did he have something like she did? Or was it more like he got lost in his thoughts? "Everyone drifts sometimes. Do you want to sit for a while? We've got a couch upstairs."

He shook his head. "No, it's okay, I'm not feeling unwell or anything." he assured her. He didn't need to sit down, or take it easy, he just had to keep moving with his day, just focus on the here and now. He gave her a lightly forced smile, but it was present, anyway. "I'm fine." he said with a little nod to confirm the statement.

She watched him and judged his expression when he talked, judged his smile when he gave it. "All right," She conceded, but was still regarding him with concern. "But just so you know, I won't judge if you aren't." Giving him one more smile, she looped her arm with his and tugged very gently on it. "It's your choice now. We can keep looking at art or we can grab some coffee from the diner nearby." Either way, she wanted him to know that she'd be there and listening, not just staring at him like he was insane for 'drifting' as he said. It was what she wanted when she was hit by her condition; she wanted normalcy right after so she was going to try and provide it for Roy too.

He didn't resist when she tugged him along. "Either." he said. "I like when you show me whatever you've got in that's new, and I like coffee. So it's sort of a win-win for me." he said, giving her a little more natural of a smile. "So...is there something you'd rather do?" he asked, wanting her to do whatever she wanted most. He was there to spend time with her, he didn't mind how that time happened to be spent.

"How about we see some more art and then go have coffee? Who's to say we can't do both?" Shannah led him a little further back, but brought him towards another of Stella's pieces. "I think this is my favorite of hers," She said as she stopped them in front of a larger canvas. It was filled to the brim with every shade of green imaginable, but it wasn't simply color this time. Depicted on the canvas was a garden overgrown with brush, somewhere hidden and secret. There were smatterings of other colors in it, dotting the green with pinks and yellows of flowers or blues of water in a small pond off to the side. "Can't you just see yourself there? It's alluring. It could even be enchanted if you were so inclined." Looking back at Roy, she smiled again. "But I blame that on all the stories I read when I was little. Enchanted forests, fairies, and whatnot. I imagine you weren't exactly reading stories about enchanted forests when you were younger, but I could be wrong."

He smiled a little, liking this much better than a second ago. He didn't connect to the artwork at all, but the connection he'd made with the other weren't necessarily good ones. So, he was back to his comfort zone where he experienced things through her reactions instead. "Not so much, no. I mean, I used to read stories to the littler siblings." he said. "And cousins...I remember there being one with a castle and a garden that overgrew, with thorns and such." he said.

"I’m sure your family really appreciated the stories. Maybe it's the girl in me, but I love stories about castles. What's better than a story about a dashing prince charging in on a white horse to save the town from some terrible monster? I like those stories because they all usually have happy endings. In the end, everyone is happy and healthy and going about their lives again. It's nice. I read a lot of those stories when I was younger. What's your favorite story then, if it's not something with castles and fairies in it?" Shannah turned a little so she could look up at Roy, thinking of how, at the same time, the image of him reading stories like that was both humorous and sweet. Funny because it was a bit out of the ordinary to imagine a former solider reading fairytales, but sweet because at the time he would have just been being a good brother or cousin, not necessarily a soldier.

"I don't think I have a favorite story." Roy said honestly. "I read the stories for the kids and all, but...I guess I haven't read anything in a long time, and I don't know if any of the ones I read was a favorite." he admitted. "I just know the kids loved it. What was yours?" he asked, since she seemed into it so he figured that it would be the same as it was when she was explaining art. So he smiled at her. "Tell me a story." he invited.

"My favorite used to change all the time, but I always loved Peter and Wendy. There's action, intrigue, mystery, pirates, mermaids...What more could you want?" Not to mention that not a single of those lost boys had her problem. If they fell asleep, it was because they wanted to nap, they wanted to sleep, not because they didn't have a choice. "Tell you a story? Are you sure you want to be bored to tears by a story I tell you? I'm already talking your ear off about the paintings." Even as she warned him, the ideas were churning in her head.They were tried and true standbys from many of the stories she'd read as a child, but she could change the names and places enough that maybe it would seem like her own. Or maybe it would take off in its very own direction and she'd not really be in control, but more just a vessel for it.

"I'm sure." he said, still smiling at her. "Tell me a story." he requested again, giving her a light little nudge on the arm. "I promise I won't laugh. Unless it's a funny story, then I will, but still." he assured her, wondering what she might come up with. Or if she'd retell him something she liked, just a her-version. He'd take whatever, really.

"All right then.." When he nudged her, Shannah pulled him a little further down to the last painting of Stella's set up against the wall. It was much like the green garden-inspired painting, but this one was different because of the blues it used. In the corner, there was a hint of brown and from the way Shannah saw it, the browns and blues together created a sea-scape with tall, craggy cliffs in one corner and the ocean in the other. "Once upon a time, there was a boy who lived at the top of the tallest cliffs overseeing the ocean. This boy had a father who worked as a fisherman and was gone long periods of time. He left their home entrusted to the boy, who did his very best to keep it running smoothly while his father was away."

"One day, while his father was out to sea, the boy decided to take a walk down by the ocean. The cliffs he lived on had pathways that led there, but he had always been warned never to walk the paths alone. They were treacherous and steep, but with no one there for the boy to walk with and no one to tell him not to go, he decided to brave the dangerous paths alone in favor of enjoying the calmness of the ocean. It was rarely so calm this close to the cliffs and in his eagerness to reach the bottom, the boy lost some of his careful footing and slipped."

"Over the side of the cliffs he went, hurdling quicker towards the water. Further and further he fell and the more he fell, the less he thought he would make it out of this alive. As soon as he made impact, the boy was pulled under the water too quickly for him to fight against it or reach the top. He struggled and struggled, but just when it felt like he could struggle no longer, a pair of arms grabbed him and started pushing him towards the top just as quickly as he had sunk under. As soon as he broke the surface, the boy coughed and gasped for air. He searched for his savior, but saw no one. Even as the hands that were still holding him started pushing him towards the side, he could see nothing under the dark waters. It was only when the boy was safely clinging to a nearby rock that his rescuer's head peeked out of the water. The boy wasn't sure what he expected, but he knew that seeing a girl's face framed by wild, fiery red hair wasn't the first on his list. He had a thousand questions to ask her, who she was, what she was, how had she gotten into the water, but before he could speak them he felt another nudge from her. She was stronger than he expected knowing that she was a girl. She'd managed to get him up onto the safety on the rock the pathway led out to and then she disappeared beneath the water again."

"The boy sat for hours waiting for her to come back, thankful that at least it was a warm day and he had the luxury of sitting out in wet clothing. When the girl didn't return, the boy reluctantly left and started the long trek back up the cliffside. He came back each day for the following week, with a walking stick so he wouldn't fall, of course, and each day he left her a gift from his home. On the last day of the week, he came with his last gift, thinking the girl had left him behind and would not return. He laid the silver, hand-held mirror he'd found in his home down on the rock and turned to leave when he heard an unnatural splashing of water. Turning back, he saw the girl once more and rushed to her side. She did not speak to him, though he spoke to her. He told her he promised to be back the next day at the same time and, like always, kept his promise. But this time he came with books. He sat on the rock and she would rest her arms and head on the rock and listen to words she did not understand, but thought sounded beautiful coming from him. And as each night fell, the boy would say "I promise to be here tomorrow," and as each dawn broke, the girl was waiting for him by the rocks. And finally, when the boy left one night, she spoke to him with one single, quiet word, "Promise."

Shannah had smiled throughout most of the story and had spent a lot of it just staring at the painting that served as inspiration for it, but when it ended she turned to look at Roy, trying to gauge his reaction to it.

As she spoke, he was watching her. And he followed the story, picturing it as she described it, something that was fairly easy for him. It was definitely a fairytale, like the ones he'd read to the kids before. He remembered one about a mermaid, though the story Shannah had just told him wasn't the same. In fact, he kind of remembered that one being pretty depressing as far as stories, went, and he'd not read it often. When she refocused her attention on him, he smiled at her. "So did he go back the next day?" he asked. "Did he find out who she was?"

"If I told you, it would ruin the ending. What do you think he did? I could tell you he did or I could tell you he didn't, but that's not as important as what you think happened." Shannah looked back at the painting for a moment before answering his second question. "I think he knows who she is, just like she knows who he is. She's his friend, that's what matters most."

Roy thought about that. He'd not heard stories like that before, the ones he'd read all had a pat ending. So it was a new concept for him, a story that you made up the ending to in your own mind. But he gave it thought, because she asked. "I think he went back. I don't think anything could have stopped him." she said eventually, with a little nod to confirm his own thoughts on the matter.

"I think he went back too," Shannah said with a smile. "I think being there is important to him, especially now that he knows she wants to be there too. And I think he taught her how to speak his language. She wants to learn about him. I like to think that she's intrigued by him, probably just as much as he is by her. And maybe she teaches him how to be a stronger swimmer." Shannah took the opportunity to look back at him again. "You owe me a story sometime."

His eyes ticked away from hers for just a heartbeat. "I don't think I'm that creative." he said. Which wasn't what he thought. What he thought was that he didn't have that inner beauty that he sought out when he visited her. She had it--a light that he could so clearly see. But he didn't know that he had it. He didn't know that he'd be able to come up with anything that wasn't dark at the end. Maybe he could, but it wouldn't be a natural process like she had.

"Well, I want a story. Whether you make it up or read one to me is your choice, but I think you still owe me one. And for the record, I think you're definitely creative enough to make a story." She readjusted her arm, the one linked with his, and gave him another smile. "So..how about that coffee now? My treat?"

"You don't have to treat, but sure, coffee is good." he told her. Starting to head back through the gallery towards the door, he watched her out of the corner of his eye. "Why would you think I'm creative enough to make up a story?" he asked her, curious what prompted that assessment.

"You know, one of these days I'm going to surprise you with coffee." As they passed through the front gallery, Shannah grabbed her jacket from the coat hanger in the corner and slipped it on. "I like to think that everyone has a little creativity in them, but I think you have more than just a little. You already have an appreciation for stories and by reading them to other people, you become more of a storyteller than a story-reader. And sometimes there are things you just need to say. I have a whole collection of photographs from when I was younger of things I just needed to capture, so a story can help in that way too." With her jacket on and the gallery's keys inside, she closed the front door and locked it once they were outside, then slipped her arm through his again. "I think there's a story inside you just waiting to be told."

"It's what you do for little kids, they like bedtime stories." Roy said, not thinking he could take credit for being creative just for doing a big brother thing. Especially one that he considered so normal. Didn't all big brothers do that? He was quiet as she went on, and he was thinking she hadn't really seen anything specific in him--that she just imagined people had that inside of them. She'd say the same thing to anyone, it wasn't something unique she viewed in him, there wasn't some proper evidence that she could point to. At her last bit, he watched the ground as they walked for a few moments. Sure, he had a story. It wasn't a very nice one. There were bombs, and limbs being blown off, and the ringing in his ears when he realized he was bleeding everywhere. But he nodded either way, just agreeing with her. It was easier than trying to express what was in his head at that moment.

"I think it's different." Shannah's bedtime stories were ones she read to herself. Considering how often she slept as a child and at such odd times, there wasn't any way for a story to be an actual bedtime story. Her older sister never bothered to read her any and Shannah, in turn, had never bothered to read any to her younger sister. Her parents hadn't even read them to her. "It takes a special person to tell a story. Stories inspire imagination in others, it's important to foster that." She glanced at him again and caught sight of something she didn't like seeing. He looked a little lost again, though once more she was not sure if it was because of his thoughts or because of an outside force. Or maybe it was her simply reading that into him. Maybe she wanted to see someone else get lost for a while and know it wasn't simply her. But that was an awful thing to hope for so she instead she started talking again. "There's a story in everyone, Roy, and I think if you gave yourself a chance, you could tell a great one. I know all stories don't always end like mine did. Sometimes stories serve a larger purpose. Sometimes it's more important to say what needs to be said, but there's something redeeming even in the saddest story, I think."

I think you don't know a lot about the world. Was the first thought that went through Roy's head at that. He didn't say it, though, it was harsh, and he never wanted to be harsh with Shannah. She was a gentle soul, someone he liked being around because of that, and maybe some of that was due to her naivety. But he didn't think there was much redeeming in stories he could tell. Men dying horrible deaths, bleeding out, getting frostbite. Talking to Amelie, who had that haunted look in her eyes that he just knew wasn't ever really going to go away. Some things you saw just scarred you, on the inside of your soul. He felt like that sometimes. "I think that's a nice theory." he told her, tone light.

"That's just how I like to see it. When things happen that aren't exactly perfect, I like to think that there's something good out there to balance it out." His tone was light, but Shannah was still wondering where he'd gone earlier. "It's partly why I think art is so important. I think feelings can be bigger than you. I know I have some feelings that are just too big for me to handle, so when they take charge, I try to think of something nice or find some way to express them so they're not cooped up inside of me. Lucky for me, I get to work in a place full of nice things."

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure that is nice." he said. "You always seem really taken with everything." Which was part of why he was there to start with. He just liked seeing that in general. He didn't feel like he could engage in it, but seeing other people reach that, that was the goal for him.

Shoshannah shrugged a little. "I guess it's really easy for me to get caught up in things, but I'm all right with that. I'd rather spend my waking moments really living, really focused on something, than only be half present." She had to make up for all the time she spent falling prey to her condition, anyway. It was why she saw things the way she did. She was grateful for every moment she did have to spend with friends like Roy or look at beautiful art. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that around Roy, though. When it came to most people, she made up a reason why she'd been affected but she wouldn't want to lie to Roy about that. She also couldn't be sure how he would take knowing that she fell asleep at the drop of a hat and for no real reason at all, so mostly she'd just been hoping that it wouldn't hit around him at all.

"I like that you get caught up in things." Roy told her. "It's nice to see." There was a quiet honesty to his tone there, one that shone through because he meant every word. It meant something to him, and that was clear. "I don't know that not getting caught up in things means you're only half living, but I like seeing someone get fully engaged in what they're doing. Like with you, and the art. I like seeing how you react with it all."

Shannah smiled at Roy, looking up at him again. "Not getting caught up might not mean the same for other people as it does for me, but I'm glad you like seeing it. I like that you like seeing it." It was nice to know that she was able to reach out to someone about something she was so passionate about. It was even nicer to know that he enjoyed what she said. She could see the coffee shop up ahead, one at the opposite end of the city block that Sea and Sky was settled on, but didn't look at it for long since her eyes were back on Roy again. "I like that you come by and see the art too. I appreciate it."

"Yeah?" he asked, watching her out of the corner of his eye. "Another customer?" he asked, since he wasn't sure why she worded it like she had. Generally you appreciated things that were done for you, and he wasn't sure what his stopping by did for her beyond take up some time now and again. So, he was curious, and wanted to know what she had to say about it.

"More that you have an interest in coming by, seeing the art, spending time at the gallery. It's just nice. Not only do I get to spend time my friend, but you let me talk about all the art we have for as long as I want to." She glanced at him, a small smile there. "You're doing me a favor, actually. Generally helps alleviate questions of insanity if you have someone listening to you when you talk." Her expression was joking, but she did mean what she said. She did appreciate having him come by the gallery.

He actually laughed lightly at that. "Okay, I'll give you that." he told her. "I give you a proper alibi for insanity." he said, finding that cute. "I just like hearing you talk about all of it. You get really passionate, and it's nice to see. I like seeing someone so involved with something, especially something beautiful." Didn't hurt that she was, too, but he didn't say that.

Shannah liked hearing him laugh. She generally liked it when people laughed, but there was something nice about when Roy laughed. Smiling at Roy, she said, "So you enjoy coming to the gallery and I enjoy you coming to the gallery. I think that's a good system for both of us, don't you?"

"Yeah, I think it works." he agreed, as they headed up to the diner. He stepped ahead of her, to open and hold the door like he usually did. "Guess that means I'll have to keep stopping by, huh?" he asked, following her inside once she was in. Then he headed towards a booth he'd sort of started sitting in regularly, and they usually occupied when they were there together.

"I guess you will," Shoshannah was still smiling as she slipped into the familiar booth. "The doors are always open for you, Roy." By now, Shoshannah didn't need the menu. She knew she wanted coffee and, if anything, maybe a muffin. As the waitress came up, she gave them both a smile and Shoshannah ordered just that; coffee and a blueberry muffin. But she was lucky to get that out, because as the waitress turned her attention to Roy, Shoshannah slumped in her seat, ending up leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. She looked peaceful enough, like someone might when they were taking a nap even though she'd just been talking to Roy and the waitress.

Roy ordered coffee and a piece of pie. He was about to ask her if he could get parameters on the story he was meant to be coming up with when things abruptly went sideways. He blinked first. "Shannah?" he asked, not understanding what he was looking at for a moment, or maybe she was sleeping. The waitress had already walked off, and he looked around a moment, before he reached across the table to nudge her shoulder. "Shannah?" he tried again.

It generally took Shannah a few moments to really register anything in this state and now was no exception. The nudge to her shoulder was the trigger; otherwise there'd be no real reason to wake up immediately. But with the nudge came something or someone that nudged her. It took her moments to open her eyes, but when she did she sat up straight immediately, eyes wide as she took in the scenery. Diner, check. Roy, check. Roy. Hell... "Oh..I'm sorry, Roy, I didn't mean to...I'm..." What did she say now? She had a lie ready, waiting, right at the tip of her tongue but what she said would change everything. She'd either have lied to him or have told him the truth and either one of those could lead to very different outcomes. So instead she said nothing, just waiting for his reaction.

He was staring at her, concerned. "What happened? Are you okay?" he asked. "Were you feeling faint?" he asked. "You should have said, we didn't have to come out, I--are you okay?" he asked, pretty worried at this point and it was very very clear. He got up to sit in the same side of the booth as her, just to look her over in concern.

Shannah hated this feeling. She was stuck between lying to him and telling him the truth and here he was, asking her so many questions and being generally very sweet about it. If she told him, things would change. But the more he asked and the more she thought about it, the less trouble she had deciding. She had to tell him. This wasn't a stranger on the street or in a restaurant, this was Roy, a friend. She couldn't lie to him.

"I was really hoping this wouldn't happen," She said with a sigh. It was hard to look at him so he got a glance but then she was looking down at her hands again. "I feel fine. A little nervous, maybe, but nothing serious. It's...sometimes this happens. Sometimes I just," She hesitated, trying to find the right word but ended up with, "sleep. I know it's odd." Shoshannah wanted to tell him it was all right if he thought it was peculiar or if he needed to leave and process it but she didn't want him to do think or do those things. She hoped that in the end, he wouldn't think the worst of her, but hoping for the best in this instance was starting to make her even more nervous.

He watched her even if she wouldn't look at him. "You were sleeping?" he asked. "I...are you tired?" he asked. "Why are you nervous? I...don't think I understand." he admitted, thinking he was missing something, and if she was talking about a condition or something he wanted to understand.

She nodded at his question, venturing another look at him. "It's difficult to explain because it doesn't happen normally. At least not to anyone else I've known. I can be awake one moment but asleep the next and I don't know why. It isn't that I'm particularly sleepy and otherwise, I don't feel ill, but none of the doctors I've seen or even my father can find out why this happens." She glanced away from him again, wishing the waitress would stay far, far away for a little while. It would make this easier if there weren't interruptions. "I'm nervous because this changes things. No matter what, you'll know that this happens to me. I don't know what you'll think about it, but you'll know that there's this..thing, this condition that I have. It hasn't always been received well."

He was listening, trying to process it, and in the end figured that if people could understand what happened to him, he could understand what happened to her. Only he didn't generally tell people either, considering. 'I could drop dead at any given moment' isn't a great conversation starter. "Is there something I can do to help?" he asked. "Is there anything I need to do if it happens?"

Shoshannah took a moment but finally turned in her seat to look at him. "I know how odd this is. I know it's not normal and I know that it's hard to process, so I want you to know that you don't have to do that. If you don't want to, that is. It wouldn't be fair for me to expect you to be fine with it immediately," or at all, "So..what I'm saying is I don't want you to feel obligated. But if you think about it and you still feel this way, then just keeping things the same way they were before this happened helps. It's not particularly dangerous, it's just like I'm sleeping. So the only thing that needs to happen is I need to get woken up again. Sometimes I do that naturally, sometimes someone tries to wake me up. But that's about it."

Roy frowned a little, listening to her. "...what exactly about this is something that would be so overwhelming that I would freak out?" he asked. "It's weird, yes, I've never heard of it before, and maybe it's disconcerting, but it's not like you just announced you're a leper." he pointed out. "...are you used to people deciding it's too much to deal with or something?" he asked, not sure why she was selling that aspect of it so hard. That it wasn't fair for her to expect him to be fine with it, or whatever. It seemed like she was really hitting that up hard, and so he felt almost a little insulted. Weird? Yes. Catastrophic? Not really.

"Sometimes, yes. And you would be surprised at the looks this has gotten me before." Shannah shook her head a little, a sigh attached to the action."This changes things, Roy. I am just hoping it won't change them for you. It has a way of driving people away and I don't want that to happen. It's why I usually don't mention it and when it happens, I make up a lie. I had one ready, to tell you I was feeling faint, but I didn't want to lie to you, Roy."

Still considering her, he didn't say anything for a long moment. "...right now, you're making this into a huge deal, and I'm not." he said, voice gentle. "You're telling me this changes things, and I haven't said it does. Maybe..." he drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "Maybe you're jumping the gun with the defensive stuff when there isn't a cause."

He didn't like the idea of her just automatically assuming the worst about him, and maybe she had dealt with people who would ditch her for no good reason, but he didn't like the implications she set out there. It hurt his feelings, really.

Listening to him, Shannah began to realize a few things. One, that maybe she overreacted when it came to this. Two, that she had jumped to conclusions when it came to Roy and three, that she really shouldn't have. But it was just so hard to convince yourself that everyone was going to react well to something she'd seen many people flounder at.

Taking a moment, she inhaled, exhaled, and closed her eyes while she calmed herself. Her condition had a way of making her this way, of making her say whatever came to mind out first and that was usually either a lie or an out for whoever was there. When she felt under control again, looked back at him again, her voice genuine when she spoke. "Roy, I'm so sorry. You're right, I am jumping the gun. I didn't know how you'd react to this and I should have actually let you react first before deciding what you would do. I'm sorry. It's too bad I can't start over, isn't it?" She asked, giving him a small, tentative smile in hopes that she hadn't just ruined it all when nothing would have been ruined in the first place. This would at least make her think twice about acting the way she had.

He gave her the few moments she clearly needed, not saying anything while she did that. He listened, and knew she was trying to smooth things over. He quirked a half smile. "Starting over would be nice." he said. "Were you treated like it was a huge deal? LIke your family and such?" he asked.

"It was much worse when I was younger. I slept more than I was awake. My sisters went to school but I had a tutor because there wasn't much of a point for me to go to regular schooling if I was uncontrollably falling asleep..." Shannah looked away from Roy and back down at her hands. "My mother still doesn't understand it. Neither do my sisters. They're the ones my mother dotes on. Rachel is the daughter she's always wanted; married to a nice Jewish boy. Abigail isn't exactly on the marriage track, but she doesn't have...this..to deal with so Mother goes easy on her. And my father..he's a doctor so as much as I love him, I'm not sure he sees it as anything other than a case study." She took another moment then was looking at him again, not smiling this time. "And I know it isn't the worst thing that could happen to a person, but it's difficult for me. My mother denied it and my father preferred to talk to his colleagues about it instead of me. I felt like I was dealing with it by myself. "

"I'm sorry." he said. It occurred to him that he didn't know what Marian had shared about their family. And that he might want to ask her what was alright and what wasn't. She was up and coming at the Echo, or she was trying to be, so a story like theirs might not help her if it got out. Still, he did wonder.

"Thank you, Roy. And thank you for listening. Not many people know about this but I'm glad you do now." Reaching out, she touched his arm. "And I am sorry I jumped to conclusions. It's difficult for me to imagine that right away someone would be fine with this, but you know about it and you aren't looking at me like I've just sprouted a second head." A smile was starting on her lips. "I'm glad you know."

He gave a light half smile, and nodded, before he looked to the waitress who’d reappeared with their orders. He got up to sit back on the other side of the booth, resettling in. “Just let me know if I need to do anything to help.” he told her again, so that point could be firmly made.

Once the waitress left again, she looked back at him an her eyes were serious but her voice was genuine. "You're already helping, very much." It was honestly a relief to know that Roy accepted this. And while she could have handled the actual explanation of her condition better, she was relieved to know that he would still be there. "For right now, why don't we talk about something else? Something nicer? Is there anything happening with you that you'd like to talk about?"

Roy shook his head. “Not really.” he said honestly. “I’m still trying to figure out what to do here. Where to live, what to do with my time, if I want a job, if so what kind...I’m still just figuring things out.” Only he wasn’t doing it very efficiently. Not by a long shot.

"Well, if you decide you do want a job, I'm sure the Sea and Sky could use a man around. There are some things that, no matter what Madeline and I try, we just can't do. But if you don't want a job and I can help any other way, you'll tell me, won't you?" Shannah wanted to extend the same kindness Roy had to her. It was only fair and, all fairness aside, Roy was her friend. Of course she wanted to help him.

"What kind of work would need doing at the gallery?" Roy asked. "And wouldn't you want an artistic type?" Since he felt it was well established he wasn't. He wasn't sure what kind of work he'd be able to do, just that heavy physical labor wasn't feasible. He was warned about that, not doing anything too demanding because it could get that shrapnel loose. He didn't know near enough about it to really understand things like that, so he just went by the doc's recommendations.

"Lots of things need done around the gallery. You're taller than us both so it would be easier for you to place nails and hang art. Also we have a lot of pieces that I end up picking up from the artists, so that's a possibility. We have to repaint the walls often and keep the floors clean. Or I could employ you as security." She smiled more as she spoke. "Often times, Madeline and I work late and it would be nice to know someone we trust is there as well. But anything, really. I'd want you to do something you like doing most of all. It's so important in a job."

What she was talking about sounded a lot like 'janitor'. And it wasn't that he was above it, it was more that he didn't really want the girls seeing him in that light. Security he could do better, but then again, he didn't know if he wanted them to see him in that light either. "I'll think about it." he told her, however, nodding a touch. "Thank you kindly for the offers." he added, so she didn't think he was ungrateful because he was.

"And if you do paint or sketch or draw...or anything of the sort and want to show it, you've got a show no questions asked." She smiled at him again. "Or if you wouldn't want to work at the gallery, I can keep my eyes and ears open for other job openings?" She let her mind backtrack to something else he said. "You don't have a place to live yet still? Are you staying somewhere safe at least? Do you need somewhere to stay?"

"Not everyone's an artist, Shannah." Roy said, smiling a little and shaking his head. "I definitely don't have anything even like a sparkle of that, so...thank you but you'd be barking up the wrong tree." He shook his head at her concerns as well. "I'm okay, I'm safe, no worries there. I'm just staying at the motel down by the docks. Sunny Shores? It's not very nice, but they don't mind long term tenants. And I can keep looking for a job on my own, I'm not actually helpless, it's just finding something I want to do." he said lightly, feeling a little like she was treating him like he was a brainless child. Being lost didn't mean he was incapable. It meant he lacked direction.

Shannah reached for her coffee, taking a sip of it before shaking her head. "Oh no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like you couldn't do this yourself. I know you're very capable of doing things for yourself. I just wanted to help if I could." Especially since he was adamant on helping her with her condition. Today she was just digging a hole, wasn't she? She put her coffee cup down and turned her eyes to his. "I keep putting my foot in my mouth, don't I?" She asked, adding a little smile in hopes that a joke might help. "I'm sorry."

He gave her a little smile in return. "It's okay." he said. "Don't worry about it." he could explain why it was going like that, but he wasn't sure she wanted to know, and he didn't want to harp or anything. A lot of people just didn't want to know anything like that, they didn't want to hear it. So, he didn't offer it.

"Maybe we should enjoy our coffee and I will try to not put my foot in my mouth anymore," She answered back with a smile. He didn't seem to be holding this against her and it helped to think that he wasn't. Sometimes she had off days like today, but if an off day turned into Roy helping her realize something important about herself, then it couldn't be such a bad day after all.

"I'm sure you can manage that just fine." Roy assured her, smiling again. "You can tell me more about art. What's Maddy working on these days?" he asked, since he hadn't seen her in a little while, so she could be working on anything.

"With art or with the gallery? She had a fantastic idea for the gallery today, actually. She thought up a partition wall for us. A mobile wall that we could use to create all sorts of different spaces within the gallery. With her art, I've seen some amazing sketches from her lately. Madeline is always producing beautiful work." Shoshannah finally pulled the muffin she ordered closer to her, took her knife, and split it in two. Then she put the plate in the middle of the table, all too happy to share it with Roy. "So maybe there will be a partition wall for you to see the next time you come by."

Roy took a little of the muffin, not above sharing, and it did smell good. "A partition wall? That sounds interesting. I bet you'd love having a space you could alter all the time." he said, thinking that sounded right up Shannah's alley.

"I would. She's in charge of making it happen. It was her idea and I wouldn't want to take that away from her, but I can't wait for it to be made. Can you imagine? The gallery is a great space in itself, but with this wall it could be customized to fit any sort of art, anything an artist would want to show." Her eyes were glittering again as she got caught up in the possibilities for new art at the gallery. And sure, maybe the wall would be a little different than she imagined, but that wouldn't stop her from daydreaming about it.

Yep that was what he liked about Shannah. She just lit right up when she was talking about something she was passionate about. He loved seeing it. "Sounds nice." he said. "Can't wait to see what you come up with." he told her. "Cuz you know I'll be by."

Shannah nodded. "I can't wait to see what Madeline cooks up." She took a little bit of the muffin, savoring it along with her coffee. This was nicer, the way the conversation had gotten back on track. She'd make a note not to get it off track like she had earlier. "It wouldn't be a show without you there, Roy."