[voice]

[70ftandcounting]

[Rapunzel's voice comes across the journals, fairly cheerful but just as last time, there's hints of maturity and somberness mixed in.]

Tammy, I've got everything ready that I need to paint your room. Is there a good time that you'd like me to come?

[A pause.]

I extend the offer to anyone else, as well. I'm...pretty good at painting, so if anyone would like their room brightened up a bit, please -- let me know. I'd be more than happy to help. Just let me know what you'd like, and I will do the best I can to make sure that it's what you want.

Comments

[70ftandcounting]

I do?

[She tries to peer at her nose, lifting a hand to smudge at the paint, but really -- she's just getting it everywhere.]

...Did that get it?

[yolonceler]

Um, no, now you're a self portrait.

[He's going to get cavities. Dozens of them.

The Once-ler looks around. Does he have anything to offer her? Scraps of cloth, rags, anything? Nobody is cute enough for the Once-ler to dirty his suit. Instead, he peels off his gloves. Hands are cleanable.]

I can get it, if you want.

[70ftandcounting]

[Rapunzel is good for your SOUL ALWAYS. ALWAYS AND FOREVER.]

Well -- sure. Since...I can't see.

[Blush blush blush.]

[yolonceler]

[The Once-ler hesitates at first. This is kind of personal, isn't it? Face-touching. The Once-ler does not like to get close to people. He just met this girl and, ugh, god - get it over with. He gently as hell brushes the paint off of Rapunzel's face until he's done all he can. It's not until he's finished that he realizes he'd been holding his breath. What, why, was he nervous? Leave it to him to think he'd fuck up something like this.]

All better. Clean canvas.

[70ftandcounting]

[As he's lifting a hand to do it, she realizes that -- yes. This is fairly personal and very few people at the keep have actually touched her face, but--

Too late. He's already done it, and she's smiling maybe a little guiltily up at him.]

...Thank you.

[yolonceler]

Don'tmentionit hey, how about that painting?

[The Once-ler fumbles his paint brush and ends up smacking it against the wall. What a lovely splatter of blue. Come on, Oncie, calm down.]

Better go fast, I want this done by nightfall.

[70ftandcounting]

Um...of course.

[Blushing furiously, she starts back up, working quickly and quietly for a while.]

...It's starting to look really pretty.

[yolonceler]

[The Once-ler pauses in his painting to step back and survey their work. It really is looking nice. He can picture truffula valley in his mind perfectly. No painting could do it justice, but this thing comes close.

His tone sounds a little distant.]

Yeah. It is.

[70ftandcounting]

[She pauses in her own painting and glances over at him, curious.]

Are...you all right?

[yolonceler]

What, yes, I'm fine.

[He quickly gets back to his painting. No need to vomit emotion everywhere.]

It just looks really good is all.

[70ftandcounting]

[She is SUSPECT.]

It...it doesn't make you homesick, does it?

[yolonceler]

No.

[That... came out pretty aggressive. He quickly adjusts his tone.]

More like nostalgic.

[70ftandcounting]

[Meep.]

Uh -- of course. Nostalgic.

[yolonceler]

The trees are gone, so. Can't be homesick for something that isn't there.

[Ugh. Emotions.]

[70ftandcounting]

Can't you?

[She looks at him thoughtfully, pushing her hair away once more.]

[yolonceler]

[Can he?]

... No.

[70ftandcounting]

...I see.

[She doesn't, because she thinks you can be homesick for something that isn't there. She misses her mother, though by all rights the woman ISN'T her mother and she sees the woman die but...]

[yolonceler]

[Don't worry. The Once-ler is a lying liar who lies. He is homesick for the truffula valley - and has been for four years and counting. The Once-ler just sort of shakes his head and continues his painting. He's dabbing on some lovely clouds now, though his strokes are far too light. Detached, maybe.]

Annnyway, what was it like where you're from?

[70ftandcounting]

[Her own brush falters, and she swallows and patches up the smudge she'd created. There. Good as new.]

Not good.

[yolonceler]

Oh.

[They have something in common!]

Mmmind if I ask why?

[70ftandcounting]

[She shifts. She doesn't want to go into the hair thing yet, so she keeps it vague.]

I was kidnapped when I was a little girl, and -- the woman that pretended to be my mother was very controlling. I spent the first eighteen years of my life locked in a tower.

[yolonceler]

[The Once-ler just kind of stops. He ends up dragging his brush down the wall as he stares at her, getting white-blue in the grass.]

W... ow...

[Should he even believe this? He's just going to give her the benefit of the doubt.]

So being here must be, uh... really... great. For you.

[70ftandcounting]

[Oh, she's serious. It's all said in that really quiet 'not fucking around' kind of way.

She looks very distant, and stares hard at the paint on the wall.]

Mmm. It's...a little easier, in some ways.

[yolonceler]

[Oh, shit, look what he's doing do this mural. The Once-ler hurriedly fixes that white streak.]

Just some?

[70ftandcounting]

Yes. Being here...I can have a little bit of freedom. I'm not confined to one room. [She rolls her shoulders. And, she was now free of seventy feet of hair which has really thrown off her balance.]

But...things are so unresolved for me, back home. I still haven't met my real family.