For a Massachusetts October, it was actually fairly nice outside. A sunny, 70 degree day with a slight breeze was perfect outdoor weather, and the park sounded like a great destination to hit up. Constance Blanchet hadn't been there in several months.
((Constance Blanchet - Pregame Start))
She laid on a little blanket in the grass, the corners held down from the breeze with two paperweights (she couldn’t believe those were the only two they had at home) and her Birkenstocks. Kropotkin’s The Conquest of Bread was flipped open to around the two-thirds mark, her eyes poring over every word, taking in the message of the magnum opus of her ideologue. A haze of cigarette smoke emanated from her little area in the park, with Constance realizing she was almost down to the filter on her current one. She grabbed one of the Birkenstocks with her toes, stamped out the cigarette with it, and put the butt in her paper trash bag. Constance pulled another one out from the pack and lit it, her eleventh of the day.
She was so engrossed in her book that the outside world was limited to the blanket she was sitting on and the grass extending a few inches beyond it. The steady inhalation, exhalation, and occasional puff of smoke were soothing. Time moved very slowly, and Constance was perfectly fine with that. She would’ve been glad to get lost in this moment forever.
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((Marshall West continued from With Great Awkwardness Comes Great Responsibility.))
The park was, particularly in this weather, perfectly picturesque. Those wide branches, the perfect crisp shadows, the ocean glittering not too far away. If Marshall was to go to college away from Salem, this would be something he missed dearly.
Marshall moved further along the footpath, glancing around and looking for where the light was nicest. Oh, there were flowers there! If he framed the flowers right, and got the ocean in the background from that angle--
He smelt smoke. No, he saw smoke, too. The smell was distant, but there was no mistaking the haze underneath a tree that hadn’t been too far off the view he’d been mulling.
Ah, Constance. They were both in photography club, and Marshall found that her work was excellent on a technical level and also full of purpose. He approved of that. He didn’t approve of this haze of smoke that had collected around her.
Yes, it’d make an interesting photograph. But he would not be party to creating propaganda that made smoking look cool.
“Constance, how much have you been smoking?!” Marshall huffed as he walked towards her. “You look like you’re aiming for lung cancer by the age of twenty!”
The park was, particularly in this weather, perfectly picturesque. Those wide branches, the perfect crisp shadows, the ocean glittering not too far away. If Marshall was to go to college away from Salem, this would be something he missed dearly.
Marshall moved further along the footpath, glancing around and looking for where the light was nicest. Oh, there were flowers there! If he framed the flowers right, and got the ocean in the background from that angle--
He smelt smoke. No, he saw smoke, too. The smell was distant, but there was no mistaking the haze underneath a tree that hadn’t been too far off the view he’d been mulling.
Ah, Constance. They were both in photography club, and Marshall found that her work was excellent on a technical level and also full of purpose. He approved of that. He didn’t approve of this haze of smoke that had collected around her.
Yes, it’d make an interesting photograph. But he would not be party to creating propaganda that made smoking look cool.
“Constance, how much have you been smoking?!” Marshall huffed as he walked towards her. “You look like you’re aiming for lung cancer by the age of twenty!”
It was such a good moment, underneath the tree. It was warm and breezy and tranquil and everything just sort of aligned. For that moment, everything just felt right. It was a feeling so seldom experienced that she couldn't help but wish that time could freeze.
Of course, nothing could really stay so good forever.
Her sense of tranquility was shattered like glass when Marshall West decided to show up. She groaned audibly before dog-earing her book and sitting upright.
"Well, bonjour to you too, Marshall," the exasperation already fairly clear in her voice. "Unlike you, I'm enjoying myself by not bothering anyone and generally keeping to myself. You should try it some time."
Just to spite him, she lit up another cigarette and puffed a ring in his direction.
"If you're wondering, this is my twelfth today. Also no, you aren't going to stop me."
She stuck her left leg out before crossing her right one over it. She leaned back on her left hand, dangling her cigarette out of her right, practically daring Marshall to come take it. He really needed to learn to loosen up. Not every rule had to be followed, you know? Besides, there wasn't even a no-smoking sign around here anyway. He really just wanted to have a pole up his ass, didn't he?
Of course, nothing could really stay so good forever.
Her sense of tranquility was shattered like glass when Marshall West decided to show up. She groaned audibly before dog-earing her book and sitting upright.
"Well, bonjour to you too, Marshall," the exasperation already fairly clear in her voice. "Unlike you, I'm enjoying myself by not bothering anyone and generally keeping to myself. You should try it some time."
Just to spite him, she lit up another cigarette and puffed a ring in his direction.
"If you're wondering, this is my twelfth today. Also no, you aren't going to stop me."
She stuck her left leg out before crossing her right one over it. She leaned back on her left hand, dangling her cigarette out of her right, practically daring Marshall to come take it. He really needed to learn to loosen up. Not every rule had to be followed, you know? Besides, there wasn't even a no-smoking sign around here anyway. He really just wanted to have a pole up his ass, didn't he?
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Marshall spluttered before yelling, “Twelve?!”
She was dangling it out at him daringly. Marshall couldn’t use physical force to make her stop smoking, however. That’d just be rude and also count as theft.
“Barring how horrific it is for your health, you’re certainly not twenty-one! You can’t be buying cigarettes! Or smoking them!”
Filled with too much outraged energy, and having no physical outlet for it, Marshall started doing irritable squats out of a need to do literally anything. Though after a scant three squats, Marshall remained crouched and frowned in vague, possible defeat.
What could he do in the face of stubbornness? There were no teachers to go to, not out here.
“Smoking hasn’t even been cool since black and white fell out of fashion,” Marshall grumbled halfheartedly.
She was dangling it out at him daringly. Marshall couldn’t use physical force to make her stop smoking, however. That’d just be rude and also count as theft.
“Barring how horrific it is for your health, you’re certainly not twenty-one! You can’t be buying cigarettes! Or smoking them!”
Filled with too much outraged energy, and having no physical outlet for it, Marshall started doing irritable squats out of a need to do literally anything. Though after a scant three squats, Marshall remained crouched and frowned in vague, possible defeat.
What could he do in the face of stubbornness? There were no teachers to go to, not out here.
“Smoking hasn’t even been cool since black and white fell out of fashion,” Marshall grumbled halfheartedly.
Constance eyed Marshall, wondering why he just got up and did three squats out of nowhere before settling down in a permanent squat position. She said nothing. Instead, she scrunched her toes at him before puffing out another smoke cloud, though not in his direction this time. She absentmindedly fidgeted with her clothing. A tug on her tank top strap here, an attempt to roll down her denim capris there.
She scooted forward on the blanket a little before pulling her knees closer to her chest. She exhaled another puff.
"Oh, mon dieu. Are you going to be okay? I don't know if I've ever seen you be this pouty before. Are you really going to let it bother you that much?" Constance couldn't understand why he let it get to him like that. Sure, he was certainly a stickler for the rules, but he looked like he was about to throw a fit.
"I really don't see what your problem is here. People breaking rules is something you're gonna see your whole life. C'est la vie, you know? If you let it bother you this much you're gonna break down out there. Ne le laissez pas vous atteindre. Don't let it get to you."
She scooted forward on the blanket a little before pulling her knees closer to her chest. She exhaled another puff.
"Oh, mon dieu. Are you going to be okay? I don't know if I've ever seen you be this pouty before. Are you really going to let it bother you that much?" Constance couldn't understand why he let it get to him like that. Sure, he was certainly a stickler for the rules, but he looked like he was about to throw a fit.
"I really don't see what your problem is here. People breaking rules is something you're gonna see your whole life. C'est la vie, you know? If you let it bother you this much you're gonna break down out there. Ne le laissez pas vous atteindre. Don't let it get to you."
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“I don’t see how not trying would make anything better. If I don’t say anything, that won’t fix the problem. If I do, it might. I want everything and everyone to be the best someone they could be, otherwise… well, it’s just a waste!”
Another couple of squats before Marshall looked upwards, agitated.
“I don’t like rule breaking! That’s true! Unless it’s an unjust law or some such! But I’m more agitated at the fact that someone with your clear skill with photography, and the drive to use it for a good purpose, would be so careless with their health!”
Another squat as Marshall squinted at the shadows the trees were making. Then he beamed abruptly.
“The shadows look nice today! Very crisp!”
Another couple of squats before Marshall looked upwards, agitated.
“I don’t like rule breaking! That’s true! Unless it’s an unjust law or some such! But I’m more agitated at the fact that someone with your clear skill with photography, and the drive to use it for a good purpose, would be so careless with their health!”
Another squat as Marshall squinted at the shadows the trees were making. Then he beamed abruptly.
“The shadows look nice today! Very crisp!”
“You know, defining what someone’s best is is, uh, a highly subjective matter. Following and conforming to every rule won’t necessarily make someone their best. Some people chafe horribly under the rules, something I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
She held her cigarette to her lips, puffing again and feeling the warm, familiar smoke enter and exit her chest. She checked her cigarette, which was worn to the filter. She reached over, grabbed her Birkenstock, and ground the cigarette into the sole. She tossed it back to the corner of the blanket.
Constance briefly considered introducing Marshall to the basics of anarchism, before she realized that he would probably throw a major fucking hissy fit at the mere concept of it, much less let her get to the finer details. She sighed before wiggling her mouth from side to side.
She also chose not to answer his question, because, well, she really didn’t have one. It was like trying to explain why her morning routine was the way it was. It was so mundane that it felt beyond explanation. Instead, she focused on Marshall’s sudden interest the shadows. Maybe it was possible to salvage the interaction.
“Oui, they do.” She pulled her camera from her pocket. “I brought my Nikon with me. Do you have your camera? Maybe we could do a photo shoot. Certainly is a nice day to do it,” she said, adding an inviting tone to her voice.
She stood up, waving her hand over to the shadows. “Come, mon ami. It’ll be one of the few chances we can do this, especially on October.”
She held her cigarette to her lips, puffing again and feeling the warm, familiar smoke enter and exit her chest. She checked her cigarette, which was worn to the filter. She reached over, grabbed her Birkenstock, and ground the cigarette into the sole. She tossed it back to the corner of the blanket.
Constance briefly considered introducing Marshall to the basics of anarchism, before she realized that he would probably throw a major fucking hissy fit at the mere concept of it, much less let her get to the finer details. She sighed before wiggling her mouth from side to side.
She also chose not to answer his question, because, well, she really didn’t have one. It was like trying to explain why her morning routine was the way it was. It was so mundane that it felt beyond explanation. Instead, she focused on Marshall’s sudden interest the shadows. Maybe it was possible to salvage the interaction.
“Oui, they do.” She pulled her camera from her pocket. “I brought my Nikon with me. Do you have your camera? Maybe we could do a photo shoot. Certainly is a nice day to do it,” she said, adding an inviting tone to her voice.
She stood up, waving her hand over to the shadows. “Come, mon ami. It’ll be one of the few chances we can do this, especially on October.”
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“Rules might require some flexibility in certain situations, but I don’t think better lungs is subjective,” Marshall said reproachfully, falling back into a frown.
He brightened up back into a grin near immediately at the thought of returning to his intended routine.
“I did bring my camera! It was why I was out here! It is my allocated two hours to practice photography today, before I return home and finish my homework and studies for the week.”
Oh no, he’d wasted a good amount of that time arguing with Constance about her habits. That would have been worth it if he’d convinced her of anything. Oh well! Either he would have to lose that time, or make up for it before he went to sleep.
He took a few steps towards the shadows, though partially to get away from the smoke haze. “Do not smoke over here, though! Unhealthy habits aside, I don’t want to capture it in my shots.”
He brightened up back into a grin near immediately at the thought of returning to his intended routine.
“I did bring my camera! It was why I was out here! It is my allocated two hours to practice photography today, before I return home and finish my homework and studies for the week.”
Oh no, he’d wasted a good amount of that time arguing with Constance about her habits. That would have been worth it if he’d convinced her of anything. Oh well! Either he would have to lose that time, or make up for it before he went to sleep.
He took a few steps towards the shadows, though partially to get away from the smoke haze. “Do not smoke over here, though! Unhealthy habits aside, I don’t want to capture it in my shots.”
"Don't worry about the smoke, Marshall. You kind of killed my mood to smoke now, anyway," Constance stated, bending over and hiding the cigarette pack underneath the blanket. "See? No need to worry. I don't have another pack on me," she said, standing up straight. "Let's not focus on the cigarettes anymore, alright? Let's just focus on the pictures."
She meandered over to the trees, barely stifling a curse when she stepped on a particularly pointy rock. She brushed it aside with her foot before kneeling down to find a good angle for her shot. Damn, Marshall was right. These shadows really were crisp!
Constance found the angle she was looking for before snapping her shot, the camera whirring as it processed the image. She took a look at the finished product, and decided to reshoot it at a different location. The great contrast between the bright light and the sharp shadows wasn't clear enough.
She stood up again, popping her knee in the process, before a question lit itself up in her head.
"You said you had allocated two hours today for photography, non? Tell me, mon ami, do you always schedule your life so much like this? I know you're a rigid stickler for order, and the rules," she strained out, her disdain barely contained, "but do you really feel that it is necessary to budget out your time so extensively? I fail to see how much benefit that really brings you."
She meandered over to the trees, barely stifling a curse when she stepped on a particularly pointy rock. She brushed it aside with her foot before kneeling down to find a good angle for her shot. Damn, Marshall was right. These shadows really were crisp!
Constance found the angle she was looking for before snapping her shot, the camera whirring as it processed the image. She took a look at the finished product, and decided to reshoot it at a different location. The great contrast between the bright light and the sharp shadows wasn't clear enough.
She stood up again, popping her knee in the process, before a question lit itself up in her head.
"You said you had allocated two hours today for photography, non? Tell me, mon ami, do you always schedule your life so much like this? I know you're a rigid stickler for order, and the rules," she strained out, her disdain barely contained, "but do you really feel that it is necessary to budget out your time so extensively? I fail to see how much benefit that really brings you."
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“Good! I would be happy to focus on the photography!” Marshall chirped, hurrying after her as she meandered towards the trees and stepped on a rock. “Watch your feet, Constance!”
He took a couple of shots from appropiate angles as Constance did the same, beaming happily at the results. There were few things so instantly gratifying as a well-taken shot. Studying, exercise, and all that… they might have been rewarding, but they took so much time to notice the results.
Marshall peered up into one of the nearby trees and considered the angle that could be gained from it. He was caught up in this thought enough to almost miss Constance’s question.
“Yes! If I don’t schedule my time, I do not complete all my obligations. I must manage my schoolwork well enough to stand a chance at any scholarships, without which I am unlikely to gain access to any college, as well as for the sake of learning itself. So I must set enough time out for each subject, and extra time for English or other topics that give me trouble. Student council requires my time, lacrosse season is ongoing and track season is incoming, and as captain of the latter two I have extra responsibilities. There is photography, of course! There is gym and body improvement club on the weekends! Ideally, this leaves me with enough spare time to do household chores so that my father doesn’t have to worry about them, but I’ve admittedly let that one slip on occasion. Budgeting my time allows me to retain my physical and mental growth, help those around me, and prevent me from missing out on sleep to catch up!”
There was only the slightest pause at the end of Marshall’s extensive answer before he pointed at the tree he’d been considering.
“I’m going to climb that tree!” he declared, in much the same tone as his explanation, before he hurried towards it and found the best spot to start hoisting himself up into its lower branches.
He took a couple of shots from appropiate angles as Constance did the same, beaming happily at the results. There were few things so instantly gratifying as a well-taken shot. Studying, exercise, and all that… they might have been rewarding, but they took so much time to notice the results.
Marshall peered up into one of the nearby trees and considered the angle that could be gained from it. He was caught up in this thought enough to almost miss Constance’s question.
“Yes! If I don’t schedule my time, I do not complete all my obligations. I must manage my schoolwork well enough to stand a chance at any scholarships, without which I am unlikely to gain access to any college, as well as for the sake of learning itself. So I must set enough time out for each subject, and extra time for English or other topics that give me trouble. Student council requires my time, lacrosse season is ongoing and track season is incoming, and as captain of the latter two I have extra responsibilities. There is photography, of course! There is gym and body improvement club on the weekends! Ideally, this leaves me with enough spare time to do household chores so that my father doesn’t have to worry about them, but I’ve admittedly let that one slip on occasion. Budgeting my time allows me to retain my physical and mental growth, help those around me, and prevent me from missing out on sleep to catch up!”
There was only the slightest pause at the end of Marshall’s extensive answer before he pointed at the tree he’d been considering.
“I’m going to climb that tree!” he declared, in much the same tone as his explanation, before he hurried towards it and found the best spot to start hoisting himself up into its lower branches.
Constance was taken aback by just how extensive Marshall's answer was, but really, she shouldn't have been surprised. She still couldn't begin to understand why he did the things the way he did, but it really wasn't her place to judge. If what he did brought meaning to his life, then that's what mattered.
She watched with great curiosity as Marshall hopped on the lower branches of the closest tree, hauling himself up presumably to get a better angle. "Careful, Marshall! Tu ne veux pas tomber de l'arbre, hein?"
She ambled closer to him, just in case any unfortunate incidents were to happen while he climbed. She idly fidgeted with her camera, flipping it around in her fingers several times as she walked closer to him. Climbing up to get a better angle was a pretty smart idea, and it'd make for a good angle, but she wasn't particularly enthused at the idea of testing how strong those branches were. Luckily, Marshall was already doing that for her.
The grass was surprisingly soft, and Constance decided to take a seat and watch Marshall do his thing. She instinctively reached into her pocket for a cigarette, only to remember that she had left them under her blanket to appease Marshall. A frown crossed her face before it faded into a neutral expression, her thoughts scattering around in her brain with no real rhyme, reason, or substance. She undid her bun, letting the hair flop down to her jaw before silently combing her fingers through it.
She brought her camera back up to her face, figuring she should probably be getting some pictures, peering through the screen as the sun passed perfectly behind a leaf, creating a halo of light around the leaf and casting a crisp shadow on the grass beside her. She snapped a picture of the leaf, satisfied with how it came out. She clacked her tongue.
"Oy, mon ami, surely budgeting all that shit all the time must be stressful, yeah? Do you dedicate time to relax? To unwind? That's the chief reason why I smoke, you know. Good at burning stress. You have a hell of a lot on your plate. It would probably be a good idea to dedicate some to dessert, non?"
She watched with great curiosity as Marshall hopped on the lower branches of the closest tree, hauling himself up presumably to get a better angle. "Careful, Marshall! Tu ne veux pas tomber de l'arbre, hein?"
She ambled closer to him, just in case any unfortunate incidents were to happen while he climbed. She idly fidgeted with her camera, flipping it around in her fingers several times as she walked closer to him. Climbing up to get a better angle was a pretty smart idea, and it'd make for a good angle, but she wasn't particularly enthused at the idea of testing how strong those branches were. Luckily, Marshall was already doing that for her.
The grass was surprisingly soft, and Constance decided to take a seat and watch Marshall do his thing. She instinctively reached into her pocket for a cigarette, only to remember that she had left them under her blanket to appease Marshall. A frown crossed her face before it faded into a neutral expression, her thoughts scattering around in her brain with no real rhyme, reason, or substance. She undid her bun, letting the hair flop down to her jaw before silently combing her fingers through it.
She brought her camera back up to her face, figuring she should probably be getting some pictures, peering through the screen as the sun passed perfectly behind a leaf, creating a halo of light around the leaf and casting a crisp shadow on the grass beside her. She snapped a picture of the leaf, satisfied with how it came out. She clacked her tongue.
"Oy, mon ami, surely budgeting all that shit all the time must be stressful, yeah? Do you dedicate time to relax? To unwind? That's the chief reason why I smoke, you know. Good at burning stress. You have a hell of a lot on your plate. It would probably be a good idea to dedicate some to dessert, non?"
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“I will be careful! ...I did not understand the rest!”
Marshall hoisted himself higher and carefully shuffled himself along a branch. He chanced a glance downwards before he stuck out one leg to press it against another branch and keep himself balanced as he used both hands to aim his camera.
“Relaxing is stressful! I find that deviating from my schedule or not committing to it at all is worse, and I get restless if I’m still for too long!” Marshall snapped a shot of the shadows and added, “I don’t like sweets much, I suppose!”
He took another shot and shifted an inch further on the branch. He glanced down at Constance as he did, watching her focus on certain leaves.
“I don’t see how inhaling smoke would help relaxation. Isn’t there something else you can do to relax that won’t ruin your lungs? I find that running is good for stopping stress!”
Marshall hoisted himself higher and carefully shuffled himself along a branch. He chanced a glance downwards before he stuck out one leg to press it against another branch and keep himself balanced as he used both hands to aim his camera.
“Relaxing is stressful! I find that deviating from my schedule or not committing to it at all is worse, and I get restless if I’m still for too long!” Marshall snapped a shot of the shadows and added, “I don’t like sweets much, I suppose!”
He took another shot and shifted an inch further on the branch. He glanced down at Constance as he did, watching her focus on certain leaves.
“I don’t see how inhaling smoke would help relaxation. Isn’t there something else you can do to relax that won’t ruin your lungs? I find that running is good for stopping stress!”
"Relax. I was just telling you to not fall out of the tree," Constance replied, pulling herself upright. She set her camera down and rested her head on her knees, with her legs pulled up flush against her chest. Her feet crossed over each other.
Whenever he said the oxymoronic phrase of "relaxing is stressful," she couldn't help but stare at him in utter shock. She couldn't comprehend what exactly he was saying. If anything, Constance was the opposite of Marshall. It was hard for her to get enough sweets. Doing both class-required and freelance photography, hiking, trying to pass her science and math classes, it all added up. Still, she probably had less to do than Marshall and used far less of her free time doing productive things, but hey, to each their own.
Then Marshall brought up smoking and she instinctively reached for a cigarette to get a drag before remembering she left them at her blanket to appease him. Oh well.
"Smoking... it... well, there's something about feeling that burn in your lungs that burns away the stress, too. It's... magnétique. It just works. I don't know how to explain it."
She stopped looking at Marshall and looked down at her feet. She frowned. Her nails needed to be repainted. She could do it at home, though.
"If it isn't smoking, then it's hiking. I've been hiking since I was young. Il a une place spéciale dans mon cœur. Walking around in the wilderness is always a good time."
Whenever he said the oxymoronic phrase of "relaxing is stressful," she couldn't help but stare at him in utter shock. She couldn't comprehend what exactly he was saying. If anything, Constance was the opposite of Marshall. It was hard for her to get enough sweets. Doing both class-required and freelance photography, hiking, trying to pass her science and math classes, it all added up. Still, she probably had less to do than Marshall and used far less of her free time doing productive things, but hey, to each their own.
Then Marshall brought up smoking and she instinctively reached for a cigarette to get a drag before remembering she left them at her blanket to appease him. Oh well.
"Smoking... it... well, there's something about feeling that burn in your lungs that burns away the stress, too. It's... magnétique. It just works. I don't know how to explain it."
She stopped looking at Marshall and looked down at her feet. She frowned. Her nails needed to be repainted. She could do it at home, though.
"If it isn't smoking, then it's hiking. I've been hiking since I was young. Il a une place spéciale dans mon cœur. Walking around in the wilderness is always a good time."
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“Burning your lungs is relaxing… well, that just doesn’t make any sense to me. Hiking, though! Hiking makes sense—OH LOOK OUT—”
As Marshall had spoken, he had gesticulated wildly. A little too much, considering his precarious position. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when he overbalanced and fell out of the tree.
PHWUMP.
...Ow.
Now lying on his face, Marshall’s immediate response was to roll onto his back and check the camera. The fall had dizzied him, however.
“CONSTANCE, IS MY CAMERA OKAY? MY VISION’S SWIMMY.”
As Marshall had spoken, he had gesticulated wildly. A little too much, considering his precarious position. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when he overbalanced and fell out of the tree.
PHWUMP.
...Ow.
Now lying on his face, Marshall’s immediate response was to roll onto his back and check the camera. The fall had dizzied him, however.
“CONSTANCE, IS MY CAMERA OKAY? MY VISION’S SWIMMY.”
Constance was immediately on edge when she heard Marshall scream. She diverted her eyes only to find Marshall in the middle of falling, flailing as he flopped onto the ground face-first. She pulled herself to her feet before rushing over to her fallen classmate, placing her hand on his shoulder in concern.
"Jesus fuck Marshall, I told you to be careful!" she exclaimed, not really sure of what to do but trying her damndest to figure it out. "Listen, if you're dizzy, lay down. You may have a concussion or something. It's for your own good."
She heard Marshall talk about his camera, and she swiveled her head around until she found it. It was a little dinged and scratched, but it still looked like it worked properly. She picked it up and held it in front of him.
"See? Your camera is fine. That's not the thing to worry about right now. We need to make sure your head's feeling alright. Merde, why'd you have to flail your arms like that? You were barely hanging on to that fucking branch!"
While she could keep expressing her frustration at her fellow photographer, it probably wasn't the best thing for him to be hearing at the moment. Constance whipped her phone out of her pocket and looked up what to do to treat a concussion. Of course, she had no idea if he really had one, but better safe than sorry.
"Listen, just lie down, don't move much. Don't think much either. Just rest your brain until I can get someone to check you out, alright? I'll be right here."
She hoped that was enough. Constance wiped her brow, pushing the hair strands that had fallen in her eyes back up to her forehead. Mon Dieu, why did Marshall have to be such an idiot sometimes?
"Jesus fuck Marshall, I told you to be careful!" she exclaimed, not really sure of what to do but trying her damndest to figure it out. "Listen, if you're dizzy, lay down. You may have a concussion or something. It's for your own good."
She heard Marshall talk about his camera, and she swiveled her head around until she found it. It was a little dinged and scratched, but it still looked like it worked properly. She picked it up and held it in front of him.
"See? Your camera is fine. That's not the thing to worry about right now. We need to make sure your head's feeling alright. Merde, why'd you have to flail your arms like that? You were barely hanging on to that fucking branch!"
While she could keep expressing her frustration at her fellow photographer, it probably wasn't the best thing for him to be hearing at the moment. Constance whipped her phone out of her pocket and looked up what to do to treat a concussion. Of course, she had no idea if he really had one, but better safe than sorry.
"Listen, just lie down, don't move much. Don't think much either. Just rest your brain until I can get someone to check you out, alright? I'll be right here."
She hoped that was enough. Constance wiped her brow, pushing the hair strands that had fallen in her eyes back up to her forehead. Mon Dieu, why did Marshall have to be such an idiot sometimes?