sixwordstories | (no subject)

[Alejo doesn't notice his audience for a while. He's using a knife to pick away at a little piece of wood, roughly carving out an animal from it. When he does pause to look around he blinks at the boy for a couple of minutes. Then he smiles.]

Buenas noches, señor.

(Metody is comfortable, curled up in one of the cafe's shabby easy chairs, sipping tea and working on a bit of bright embroidery. It takes a long while, but in time, She (or he- it's hard to tell) looks up and over to the source of that uncomfortable stare)

Ah?

You're really good at that. [It's the carving that has his attention. If he tried that he might be able to carve a circle. Or a heart, once he screwed up the circle.] What are you making?

[Most people, upon being caught staring, are embarrassed. Embrik just asks, monotone, sounding completely non-confrontational:] What color are your eyes?

[He hates it when the lighting of a place makes it hard to tell.]

(That Metody only blinks a few times says a lot about the sort of people he goes around with.)

Right now? Blue.

Why do you ask?

I couldn't see them in this lighting.

Eyes are the only thing I really think are interesting about physical appearances. [Or, more accurately, after a lifetime of being teased about his hair, his mother had accidentally taught him to focus in on eyes after pointing out he had her brown ones.]

Ah.

They don't really have a color; these are contact lenses.

Then you'd look better without the contact lenses.

Everything is better if it's real and not fake.

(He shrugs)

I like the variety. And I like bright colors, especially on myself.

(That hideous Hawaiian shirt bears this out; Metody isn't wearing it ironically.)

But it's not real. So it's not meaningful.

I don't know about that. I put effort into how I look - how I color myself, what I wear, how I present myself. It's not how I naturally look, but it's what I've put time and effort towards. That gives meaning, too.

And what meaning is that? I've never gotten that, that whole 'fashion' and 'appearance' thing... I don't see the point in it. It's just unnecessary stress.

It's a kind of art. You can look at clothes and see how people want to be perceived, or what they think of themselves, or how they are feeling, and that says a lot.

Like...me. I wear bright colors even though they don't flatter me, because they make me happy. I like Hawaiian prints because they remind me of good places, so I wear them even though they aren't at all fashionable. But I do care a bit about showing off, and I like my shape, so I wear skinny jeans. And I wear heels to make myself taller, even though they are not at all comfortable, because I don't like being so short.

I guess I understand that, for other people at least. But clothes don't make me happy and I don't really think I have anything to show off or hide, so. I'm not really he kind of guy who gets this stuff, I guess. [Yet another thing he fails at. Great.]

(Metody glances over him thoughtfully)

I think you're attractive. But if it isn't something you're comfortable calling attention to, then it just isn't. Most people just dress to be clothed, I think? Or just to look pleasant and socially acceptable.

But for what it's worth, we've got the same coloring. Avoid bright yellow, orange and green, they won't do anything good for you.

I'm not attractive. [He states it like a fact.] I just put on whatever's clean and isn't bright. It's my sister who does the bright colors thing.

Everything looks bad on me. It's just a matter of degree. [He's not upset. Really. He's not... that would be shallow. He's not shallow.]

I’ve had a lot of time to practice. [He holds up the carving for inspection.] A horse.

I disagree - everyone looks good in a nice suit - but that's not the sort of idea a stranger can talk you out of.

What's your name? I'm Metody.