The art of Shame (open)

[Chrissy]

The scent of pine filled the wood shop as shavings of the tree fell to the floor. There was a sort of rhythm to this work, one you were either born with or not. It was the sort of rhythm that started without hesitation and spun a story, etching it into the wood as it was worked. Seamus’ father had always said he’d had the gift. With the large hands he’d inherited from the man, you’d think that the fine attention and detail he put into his work was impossible. Mix that in with an explosive temper and you’d think the end result would simply be splinters of kindling fit for a bonfire. When you watched Seamus work though...

...There was a sort of intensity there as though he blocked out the world around him. When you watched him work, it was easy to see how he loved each and every piece of pine, walnut or cherry that came to him, loved it in a way he’d never love anything or anyone else. Sometimes, it was humbling. Other times, it had a way of making you feel as though you could never matter on that level.

When the tree was smooth and splinter free, Seamus’ rough and calloused hands slid along the slab of wood, feeling out the grain and tracing the knots. He looked at the piece, waiting for it to tell him what it wanted to become. For that exact reason, he never took commissions. The things Seamus made were one of a kind, made with an image in mind. He never forced the wood to bend to him. All he did was uncover the masterpiece within.

Curls of pine continued to drift to the floor and, as the hours passed, a small rearing horse took shape. Wings extended from its back, frozen in time as though he were about to leap from his pine prison and take flight. With a certain sense of pride, Shame extended a hand and patted the horse’s muzzle.

[Mia]

It was not unusual for Azalia to wander alone in town, unlit cigarette hanging loosely from her mouth. In fact, it was usually the one thing her family could almost guarantee she'd be doing, if she wasn't at the bar that is. It also wasn't unusual for Lia to be wandering as a result of one of her fits. This time a particularly bad one. One that'd sent her spiraling into an uncontrollable depression. One that forced her out of the house. It was usual, however, for Azalia to not have a destination in mind on these walks. Today, however, was completely different.

Fingering the lighter in her pocket she'd taken from Shane's room, Azalia gave the tinest of sighs. Leaving the house in such a hurry gave her no time to think. Shorts and a sweatshirt, despite the heat of summer time were thrown on in a fit of anger, and then she was gone, pulling on her shoes on the way out. So now, as a consequence of her actions, here she was, wandering alone with no idea where she'd end up.

Deciding not to put much thought into it, Azalia decided she just let her feet guide her way. A left here, a few rights there, and Lia began to lose recognition of her surroundings. That didn't stop her though. The walk continued, both hands now in her shorts pockets, hair blowing loosely around her. Only when her legs began aching from the time she'd spent walking did Lia finally slow down, taking time to examine the area.

It seemed she'd wandered into the forest, further than normal. While she'd followed the path a few time, never had she made it this far. With thoughts of the possibility of being lost pushed to the back of her mind, Azalia pushed forward, eyes now darting back and forth, taking in everything. She walked until the scent of trees wafted past her nose, her thoughts once again disrupted. There was a pause in her steps as Lia's narrowed eyes turned towards the source of the smell, a shop that she'd never noticed before. A few slow steps were taken in that direction until Azalia noticed there was a man in there, looking as if he were concentrating very hard. Lia stood there, a few feet away from the door as she watched his creation take form, seeming entranced by the process, until it was completed. Still she stood there a while longer, taking in every detail of the winged horse in amazement, not once stopping to realize that she was staring, and pretty hard at that.

[Chrissy]

Standing there with the finished carving, Shame’s face was more open than it had ever been. Emotions he usually kept staunched were displayed in every line of his face; Wonder, happiness, calm and a certain determination. All of it transformed what was usually frigid and hard to something warmer and much softer.

He lifted his hand to pat the horse’s muzzle once again before heaving the knee-high sculpture to a shelf where it would reside amongst others like it. Bears with cubs, women dancing and angels congregated on this shelf, all bearing wings as the horse did. Though it wasn’t clear as to why they all bore wings, it seemed to contrast the twisted, horned figures that decorated the opposite wall.

Finally, when he finished admiring his work, Seamus turned to clear his workbench. However, in the middle of the motion, his eyes fell on the woman and, like windows against a storm, became shuttered almost instantly. His arms slid over his chest, crossing there as if to defend himself from some unseen threat and, for a long moment, he stayed like this, regarding the woman icily.

“Can I help you?” Despite the offer, Shame’s words are clipped and impatient. Discomfort becomes evident in his stance, masked only by tongues of temper. “Did you see my ad in the paper? You want to buy something?”

[Mia]

It didn't go unnoticed by Lia, the defensive stance the man put up once he caught sight of her. Sure, she probably looked suspicious just standing outside the shop, staring, but did that really warrant the hard look he was giving her? Although, she couldn't really get too angry at him. How often had she worn that same look herself, in order to keep people out? Unfortunately, it was a look she wore much too often, and one she knew all too well. Returning his gaze evenly, Azalia debated just turning and walking away, but his words stopped her before she could lift a foot.

A look of annoyance passed across Lia's face before she replaced it with a tiny frown. She could hear the impatiences in his voice, and it instantly rubbed her the wrong way. Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Not answering him, Azalia simply walked into the store, eyes scanning his creations. Despite his jerkish attitude, Lia couldn't help but admire the work. "Did you do all these?" She asked him, glancing over at him.

[Chrissy]

As the silence stretched on, Shame’s temper raged silently. He had always been used to being one of few words. To encounter someone who was of fewer words then he was and, beyond that, had the gall to ignore him in his own shop simply prickled at him. His lips formed a thin line and his eyes narrowed lightly, ready to tell the girl to keep moving if she had no business with him. Luckily, she took that moment to step into his make-shift shop.

Seamus’ eyes followed the young woman as she sauntered between the rows of various feats of carpentry, making sure wayward fingers didn’t touch something and accidentally topple it to the floor. While he enjoyed women, the way their bodies curved and swayed with their movements, his number one love would always be his work. A pretty face would never change that.

When she finally broke the silence, Shame rolled his eyes, his lips breaking into a somewhat sarcastic grin. “Well I certainly didn’t assemble a team of woodland critters, did I?” The Irish burr in his voice thickened with the snappy edge to his voice. Beneath this, you could hear a slight, husky pride.

He strode into the small work shop after the stranger and he surveyed his meager kingdom. “They’re my pride and joy.” Tenderness crept up on him, coloring him in a light far different from the cold, grumpiness he’d been displaying earlier.

[Mia]

Fully aware of him watching her, Azalia continued her walk through the rows, eyes darting back and forth, occasionally pausing at pieces of work that particularly peaked her interest. Her hands remained in her pockets as she did so, if only to lessen the possibility of him snapping at her again. At his answer, Azalia gave a tiny grunt, removing her hands in order to cross her arms and frown at him. "I don't know, you might have. I've seen some crazy shit in my day." She retorted, turning away to observe more of his work. The use of his sarcasm only served to heighten her annoyance, and Lia was forced to bite her tongue.

Once again though, curiosity got the better of Azalia. As she studied the delicate details of his most recent creation she asked, "How long do these usually take you to do?" Personally, Lia didn't have the patience to sit there and carve something like this for very long. Even playing the guitar for longer than an hour make her antsy. His accent didn't go unnoticed by Lia, nor did the way his voice sounded when he spoke of his work. She glanced up at him, he looked almost happier than when she'd first walked in. Lia knew not to trust it though, as emotions often slipped through the crack of masks. It was only a matter of time before he replaced it again.

[Chrissy]

Oh, so she thought she was a smart one? Shame’s head whipped up away from where he’d been admiring his work and his jaw clenched in irritation. At this very moment, there was nothing he wanted more then to throw this girl out by the seat of her pants. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to let his temper win out on this. For one thing, he needed her as a potential customer. For another thing, the last time his temper had gotten a hold of him...

Seamus shook his head lightly and lifted his hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “Anywhere from an hour to week or so, depending on the size and depending on how much I work on it.” He muttered, his tone gruff and resigned. She clearly wasn’t going to leave and apparently you caught more flies with honey then with vinegar.

Vaguely, Shame wondered why anyone would want to catch flies, especially if they were anywhere near as irritating as this girl. The thought amused the hell out of Shame and, with a final disgruntled grunt, he threw himself into a sales personality. “They’re all made out of a single, solid piece of wood and polished afterwards with beeswax wood polish I make myself. I do everything myself.”

[Mia]

Not hearing a reply from him, Lia continued her slow stroll, hands now locked behind her back. She was almost certain that with her attitude he would either kick her out of his shop or ignore her completely. Sticking one hand in her pocket, Lia's fingers brushed against the cigarette and lighter still in her pocket. It was tempting, but she wouldn't pull it out in here. The man would probably have a heart attack and really kick her out for sure. A lighter, in a wood shop? That definitely screamed danger.

She didn't say anything as he began explaining the process of his creations, though she glanced up at him every few seconds, offering the occasional tiny nod. Azalia didn't know half of what he was talking about, it all sounded so involved and complicated, she was sure even if she did try it she would get frustrated a quit. "That's amazing." The words slipped out before Lia could stop them, and she turned to his winged creations, a tiny frown in place to mask the embarrassment of what she'd just said.

Azalia looked over at him at his last words, fingers still moving the lighter around in her pocket. "Doesn't that get tiresome, working by yourself? Why don't you hire someone to help you?" That took some type of dedication, making all of these figures alone. "You must really love doing this."

[Chrissy]

Each nod from her helped soothe the tangled web of emotions within Shame. He was pleased that she was finally acknowledging him as master of this little domain and she was an intruder. Drawing his lower lip into his mouth, Seamus took a few steps into the shop until he was settled in just behind the girl.

Hire someone? He scoffed, the sound rude and mocking. Why the hell would Seamus hire someone to help? No one could be trusted with his precious workings. They’d break something, fuck something up and all around disrupt him. He shook his head. “It is even more tiresome to clean up over some idiot who has no idea what he’s doing.” Perhaps he spoke a little sharper then he’d intended. “I don’t like people touching my shit.”

Delicately, Seamus reached a hand out to trace the winged design on a mask, ignoring how it bore a certain resemblance to the woman he once loved. “... What brings you around here, anyway?”

[Mia]

Not realizing his presence behind her, Azalia continued her examination. Only when he scoffed did she finally notice him. A few strands of hair fell from her make-shift ponytail as her head turned sharply, frown once again in place. She brushed her hand behind her ear, sighing when even more fell down and then she was pulling the ponytail holder from her hair, letting her hand fall down her shoulders. "So why don't you train them? Or find someone who loves it as much as you obviously do? It can't be that hard to find someone."

Lia pulled her hands from her shorts pockets to her sweatshirt pocket. At his question, she ran a hand through her hair and sighed again. "I was taking a walk to get away from my house." She wouldn't mention how she was pretty much lost and would probably take another hour or so to find her way out, if she decided to go home at all today.