Annie Cresta | Victor of the 70th Hunger Games (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
treadswater) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ten_fwd2015-10-02 10:03 am
treadswater) wrote in ten_fwd2015-10-02 10:03 am
Entry tags:
Holodeck - OTA
Each victor is expected to have a talent, something that they now have the freedom to do - and something to talk to the journalists. Annie had picked glass-making. Nothing to do with anything in her previous life, and something it'd take time to learn. Time being something she had all too much of.
She'd wound up actually being good at it. She'd wound up loving it. She'd make things, sell them to the Capitol and to the merchants in District Four. There are better glassmakers in District One, but madness does lend itself to artistic allure, it seems.
She misses it. The running her own tiny business, yes, but mostly the making things. The execution of a craft she's earned burns from. The ability to create.
Finally, she's missed it enough to go to the holodeck and try and create a studio. Not hers, that'd confuse her too much and anyway, this is a chance to have the kind of kilns she never could. But a studio. Fully equipped, nicely lit, manuals for the kilns and furnaces. Space. Space to move. No teacher.
She's not quite up to actually trying to make a cup again, but if anyone walks in, they'll find her either arguing with the computer over technology-levels, working out how this particular equipment works, or inspecting the supplies.
Or, possibly, twirling the poles to get used to the movement again.
She'd wound up actually being good at it. She'd wound up loving it. She'd make things, sell them to the Capitol and to the merchants in District Four. There are better glassmakers in District One, but madness does lend itself to artistic allure, it seems.
She misses it. The running her own tiny business, yes, but mostly the making things. The execution of a craft she's earned burns from. The ability to create.
Finally, she's missed it enough to go to the holodeck and try and create a studio. Not hers, that'd confuse her too much and anyway, this is a chance to have the kind of kilns she never could. But a studio. Fully equipped, nicely lit, manuals for the kilns and furnaces. Space. Space to move. No teacher.
She's not quite up to actually trying to make a cup again, but if anyone walks in, they'll find her either arguing with the computer over technology-levels, working out how this particular equipment works, or inspecting the supplies.
Or, possibly, twirling the poles to get used to the movement again.
no subject
The explanations pause as she does what she narrates, and then blows another air bubble through.
"I guess it's calming in a way of, I need to concentrate on it and I can fall into a headspace where it's just this. It's distracting, you know?"
Another round of colour, then plain glass.
"Now, here's where that pile of soaking paper comes in. I have to shape it." Keeping the pipe turning in one hand, she grabs a pile of wet newspapers in the other, and then rolls the glass over her cupped hand. The paper sizzles, and burns, and she has to get more.
But finally, she's done shaping it, and then she's rolling the glass back along the steel table to finalize.
no subject
"A distraction in the way that some of my botany projects are distractions," she offers gently. Distractions are wonderful when one's mind is working overtime in the wrong ways.
The end result is just as interesting to Beverly as the beginning and she watches with just as much fascination. The glass is so pretty, even when it isn't yet finished, and she wonders what the end will look like.
"It's lovely, Annie. I can see a lot of time and experience in what you just did."