the worst is over ;; [Nell]

Nell threw the strand of garland over her shoulder, wearing it like a scarf. On her knees in front of the box, she dug through some more, pulling out another strand of garand, pusring her lips as she wondered what to do with it. The girl hopped up and tossed it over the entertainment center. ”Voilaa!” she said to Hannah, who was painting her nails on the couch, feet on the coffee table. A few more bows went up after that, lights bolstered to windows with a nailgun, and the group home was looking like a home. A home with a demented interior decorator.

Leana entered minutes later, a magazine in one had and a poptart in the other. She looked up, around, until her eyes fell on the garland wreathed brunette. ”The fuck did you do?” she questioned and Nell beamed with a toothy grin. ”Decorate!” she cried, throwing her arms wide. Leana walked over to the entertainment center and yanked off a strand of garland. ”You realize you’re supposed to use the nailgun for these?” Nell blinked. Oops. ”Innovation!” she cried next and the Puerto Rican girl looked at the box. ”Where’d you get all these?” Nell pulled out tree ornaments, inspecting them. ”I have my ways.” Leana shook her head. ”Your answer for everything.” Along with “it’s complicated,” but Nell would nto add that for comedic effect.

A few more decorations and Nell was out for the day, trailing hugs and well-wishes behind her. She paused outside the door, resting her back against it. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to bring back memories of the freezing New York winters. Imagies of two little girls wrapped up in threadbare blankets came to mind, Campbell’s soup cans and black-slushed snow on the city streets. She opened her eyes, gazing at the pale blue sky. A Rafael sky. No snow, that was good. She got in her car and started it up. Or, accurately, tried. It gave a false growl and died out before she could even get it into reverse. She knew immediately what the problem was, even before she got out and popped the hood. The engine was frozen. Instead of taking it to the shop, she decided to just tell Josh to heat it up later. Saved afew bucks. She couldn’t wait until Lucille was finished. Well, she honestly could. Her patience allowed her to restore the car which was taking quite a bit of time.

It looked like she was walking, hands deep in her jacket pockets, collar popped to cover her smarting ears. The snow crunched beneath her boots as she walked the street, paying only half a mind to the glitter on her clothes from the decorations. There were little signs of plant life in the city, but she kept a half-smile on her face until she found the quiet halcyon of the hiking trails. Only nature spoke here. It was a strange place for her sometimes, Canada. Its mountains and trees and nature—it was hard to miss New York in a place that suited her so much better. She walked up the trail until she found the path she wanted. It took quite a bit because her directional senses were sub par, but she began her journey up to the steps to the outlook she was so fond of. Or at least, what she hoped. She could never be sure of when she’d end up lost.

It was on the last step that she saw a girl, at first looking as if she were just enjoying the view. Nell tilted her head, standing behind a tree slightly. She then noticed the girl’s hand moving and it occurred to her that she was sketching. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened to the Earth girl—she had met Bastian when she’d stumbled upon him sketching.

After she heard the girl speak, she figured she might as well stop being a creep and approach. She half-hopped up to her, arms out at her side. ”Hiya!” she greeted. ”Not a lot of people come up her during wintertime, so I’m surprised to see you here.” Nell didn’t add in that she was also here which was strange, but she figured she might as well leave that out. ”So are you an artist?” Artists amazed her, impressed her. She had an interest in it, but then again, she had an interest in everything. There was nothing in life that she didn’t have a passion for. She sat down on the bench, looking out at the view. ”Snow,” she observed, tilting her head back to watch the white specks as they floated down to earth.

At first, Nell wondered if she should bugger off. The girl didn't seem to have the keenest reception, didn't even say anything at first. And then she sighed, her breath coming out like smoke, and Nell felt like an interloper coming up to her out of the blue like that. Especially when she was focused on the sketch. But then she spoke, and that encouraged Nell. It must mean she didn't mind the company, right? "I come out here often, even in the wintertime," she said with a shrug, her usual habit when she had to speak about herself. It was always awkward, having to do that. She didn't like talking about her. "It's exceptionally beautiful, too, but I guess a lot of people don't realize that. Or probably they just don't want to get frozen to death." The temperature dropped quite low in the winter here. She was used to New York winters, however, so she came to this country prepared. And she could say that even though she'd rarely been outside of her house in childhood because they had no air or heating. Things like that were a luxury, the same as food and comfort. Money didn't come easily, and it was something she was slowly becoming aware of about her childhood. Not just her childhood, but her teenage years, as well. It's been two years since that hell. Two years, and so far she'd come.

Nell nodded at the response. The girl could have been like her, someone who liked to create collages or doodle just because it was fun. Nell did a lot of things without reason. She didn't have a reason for most anything, because she didn't really think anything through. "Wow, you really have talent, too. Do you have professional training?" An artist, something that Nell always admired. Well, she admired everyone, anything, all things. But artistry was something she was fond of. Her favorite artist (if she could even choose favorites) might have been Kandinsky. His sketches especially, and she had a few books on him. And then there was Dali and his surrealism, and she wished that she could have met him. He seemed like he would have been so interesting, even though George Orwell would like to disagree. She enjoyed both men, Orwell for his writing of course, and she fancied coming up with conversations between the two and how they might have went. George Orwell would be dissing Dali, of course, and Dali would be rambling on about nothing.

Nell laughed at her next words. She didn't hate anything, even the snow, but it could get in the way of certain things. She's learnt to love it, though, considering everything one could do in it. She'd never built a snowman until she'd done it with Ashton, she enjoyed making snow angels and having snowball fights, and she just loved everything about it. It made the cold just something in the background, something she could deal with. "Do you think it'll mess up the sketch or anything?" she questioned worriedly. When it hit the paper it would dissolve into water and all that work would be for not. That would be heartbreaking, even for Nell as an observer. She remembered hearing about how destroyed The Last Supper had become, and that made her exceptionally melancholy. A work that's supposed to last forever was slowly disappearing. It was always sad when history came to be destroyed. In America, no one much cared for that. They just knocked things down and built on top of the ruins. And for herself, she could understand. That's what she did with her own life, after all.

Nell didn't blame the people who'd rather stay inside all warm and cozy during the wintertime. She never had the luxury of central heating before, but now she could stay inside and forget that it even was snowing outside. If she were the type to enjoy being inside for long periods of time. It wasn't her cup of tea. So she sat contentedly as she listened to the artist, not minding the snow floating to the ground. Having never been to school before her senior year, she hadn't known about the paper snowflakes that kids liked to make until she worked at the daycare. That kind of thing excited her, and she'd made hundreds of them, trying to find ways to make them bigger and better each time. Like her origami. She was always inventing, always finding new things and new ways to do them.

The Earth girl blinked when her companion noted that she was taking digital art classes. Digital art. Something else that Nell had no clue of until she was pushed out into the world and made to learn of all these things. She was still very bad with technology. And microwaves. One never knew when her nuking would be successful or when she'd end up having to buy a new one. "So you're still in high school?" she wondered aloud. Looks could be deceiving. You never know if someone may be in high school just by looking at them. Nell certainly looked young, but she was nineteen years old. She still measured her height to see if she was still growing, if there was any hope left like Josh had said. So far, it was a no-go.

The girl seemed confident enough, so Nell didn't question her on that. She just hoped that her work wouldn't be ruined or anything. Then she turned the question on her and Nell made a soft humorous sound in her throat. Nell shrugged, her hands between her legs, the fabric of her jeans keeping them warm. "No, not really," she said. Like she was ever one to complain. Nuh uh, not going to happen. "I've seen it get worse. Last winter, actually, big blizzard. Actually, those aren't too rare. This is the Canadian mountains." She rolled her eyes. Spoken like a true foreigner, even if she didn't like to consider herself as such. She liked to believe she was working out well as a Canadian. This was her new home, she'd be making it her new home.

Nell shifted, realizing something. How could she be so tactless? "I'm Nell, by the way," she said as introduction. It was no fun talking to someone whose name you didn't know, right? She just got a little too excited at the prospect of speaking to remember introductions.