Post by Brynn Faolain on Jan 2, 2013 15:38:40 GMT -5
The Shop was busy, and Brynn was working hard cutting pieces to size for his project. They had to be just right, or they wouldn't fit. He finishes his cut and powers down the band saw he had been working with, blowing off the dust that always accumulated around the machine. it's suddenly very quiet in the shop. It's usually loud and bustling but right now it was just Brynn. He hears a commotion behind him and turns, still holding the board he had just trimmed. It was his father; Brennan and James coming in from lunch. "hey! Brinnie! do you ever quit working? go eat something its lunch break!" James yelled down the shop to him. "ah i already ate James! i was hungry so i finished quick. figured id work on my own stuff for a bit while the shop was free." Brynn lied. he hadn't eaten, and he wasn't hungry. he just wanted to keep working. "Brynn, go up into the break room and eat something anyways." his father says, like he knows... "there's some leftovers from James and I's lunch. go for it." Brynn nods, unwilling to not listen to his dad. he hurries up past them, laying the board on his work bench. "good lad" Brennan says, slapping Brynn on the shoulder as he runs past. he hears James say something and his father walking down the shop. the-
Brynn wakes up to the very loud ringing of his alarm clock, right by his head. gowning, he slaps it silent. why did it have to be now... he sighs as he stands up. he's shirtless, and wearing a pair of sleeping shorts. he catches his face in the mirror, through the bathroom door. Looking more like pops every day Brynn smiles. his father had been handsome, and he was glad he looked like him. Except the eyes. he had his mothers deep green eyes, always bright and looking around. His father always said he gave him the same looks his mother did. Brynn wanders over to his stove, putting on some water to heat up. should probably clean up a bit Brynn thinks as he wanders into the bathroom, turning on the water. the shower shuddered a little but turned on. the water was warm enough this morning at least. stripping of his shorts into the laundry pile, he gets in, enjoying the hot water against his tight muscles. He'd always loved hot showers, tot he point of almost burning himself. he couldn't really do that here. it just didn't get hot enough.
Washing quickly, so he doesn't get caught still soapy with cold water, he steps out and looks at himself again. Big and strong like pop. kind like mum. he looks himself over. tattoos down his arms to his elbows, over his shoulders and back. and those old scars brynn... still there after all this time his father had always disapproved of his tattoos. and his earrings. But for some reason he loved them. it was too bad the artist was still up near Kirkwall. He rubbed the one on his forearm, the Schooner he had got. his first one, for his home town, and the job he did. i miss it there. i really do His fathers shop was still there, he assumed. James had taken over, after the accident. "you'll always have a place here, brynnie" He had said when Brynn said he was leaving. "but good luck" James, to his surprise, had winked. like he knew about Brynn's family. he very well might, he was always close with pops.
Snapping back into reality, Brynn pulled on some boxers and jeans, and trimmed his beard. he left the bathroom, brushing his hair with an old worn out brush. it looked older than he was. He sat down on the end of his bed. His apartment was well furnished, for a kids place. Despite it being small and a little shabby, Brynn had tried hard to make it home. a big desk, some chairs and a table, a bookshelf, the bed frame with shelves above the headboard and storage underneath. he was proud of that in particular. he'd made it all in his time at the wood shop, on little breaks and late in the evening. and pops always criticized me for working too much... Brynn smiled. he pulled on a t shirt, and put on a little of his cologne. he managed to still smell faintly of wood anyways. he'd traded friends around the shops woodwork for little favors or pieces for his room. a nice lamp, a rug, curtains. very adult Brynn thought. he'd been to a few friends places and even the rich kids didn't have stuff quite like his. he smiled at that. Grabbing a mug from the cabinets, he sighed. I should tell the landlord I'm replacing them. like he'll argue... and makes himself a cup of tea. Almost time to go to school he thinks, sitting at the desk, opening the laptop he had gotten last year. it looked out of place on the big polished wood desk. He didn't have any emails or anything, so he quickly gulped down his tea. Grabbing his coat, he turns and looks above his bed, at a small picture of his Father. "have a good day, pops." he whispers, before shutting off the lights and heading out into the day.
Brynn wakes up to the very loud ringing of his alarm clock, right by his head. gowning, he slaps it silent. why did it have to be now... he sighs as he stands up. he's shirtless, and wearing a pair of sleeping shorts. he catches his face in the mirror, through the bathroom door. Looking more like pops every day Brynn smiles. his father had been handsome, and he was glad he looked like him. Except the eyes. he had his mothers deep green eyes, always bright and looking around. His father always said he gave him the same looks his mother did. Brynn wanders over to his stove, putting on some water to heat up. should probably clean up a bit Brynn thinks as he wanders into the bathroom, turning on the water. the shower shuddered a little but turned on. the water was warm enough this morning at least. stripping of his shorts into the laundry pile, he gets in, enjoying the hot water against his tight muscles. He'd always loved hot showers, tot he point of almost burning himself. he couldn't really do that here. it just didn't get hot enough.
Washing quickly, so he doesn't get caught still soapy with cold water, he steps out and looks at himself again. Big and strong like pop. kind like mum. he looks himself over. tattoos down his arms to his elbows, over his shoulders and back. and those old scars brynn... still there after all this time his father had always disapproved of his tattoos. and his earrings. But for some reason he loved them. it was too bad the artist was still up near Kirkwall. He rubbed the one on his forearm, the Schooner he had got. his first one, for his home town, and the job he did. i miss it there. i really do His fathers shop was still there, he assumed. James had taken over, after the accident. "you'll always have a place here, brynnie" He had said when Brynn said he was leaving. "but good luck" James, to his surprise, had winked. like he knew about Brynn's family. he very well might, he was always close with pops.
Snapping back into reality, Brynn pulled on some boxers and jeans, and trimmed his beard. he left the bathroom, brushing his hair with an old worn out brush. it looked older than he was. He sat down on the end of his bed. His apartment was well furnished, for a kids place. Despite it being small and a little shabby, Brynn had tried hard to make it home. a big desk, some chairs and a table, a bookshelf, the bed frame with shelves above the headboard and storage underneath. he was proud of that in particular. he'd made it all in his time at the wood shop, on little breaks and late in the evening. and pops always criticized me for working too much... Brynn smiled. he pulled on a t shirt, and put on a little of his cologne. he managed to still smell faintly of wood anyways. he'd traded friends around the shops woodwork for little favors or pieces for his room. a nice lamp, a rug, curtains. very adult Brynn thought. he'd been to a few friends places and even the rich kids didn't have stuff quite like his. he smiled at that. Grabbing a mug from the cabinets, he sighed. I should tell the landlord I'm replacing them. like he'll argue... and makes himself a cup of tea. Almost time to go to school he thinks, sitting at the desk, opening the laptop he had gotten last year. it looked out of place on the big polished wood desk. He didn't have any emails or anything, so he quickly gulped down his tea. Grabbing his coat, he turns and looks above his bed, at a small picture of his Father. "have a good day, pops." he whispers, before shutting off the lights and heading out into the day.