[ when he first arrives, there are a list of things he doesn't quiet understand. the voices in his head, how he got here in the first place, most of the items inside the house he's found. the list keeps growing by the day, but washington's comfort level with the fact he doesn't understand it also grows. as long as he could take the time to find footing, it didn't matter how uneven the ground could be.
the one thing he doesn't really look into, much, is the idea of his emotions changing the world around him. he'd always been in constant check of his emotions, both as a soldier, a husband, a gentry member of the virginian upper class, and as a general. his position in life and in society needed to be carefully constructed, and his emotions had always mirrored that intent. the idea that those emotions would need to be used to create and build and the stronger the emotion, the stronger the response, washington wasn't quite sure if he wanted to mess with it.
which is why it does take him a day or two before he finds himself curious enough to try it out. a couple of days, where he has found a home and built up a bit of the run-down areas of the building. it has a new porch, new roofing, a stack of wood for cooking. he feels content enough to find a shady spot underneathe the large oak out front, to settle with a couple of broken...well, things. set around his feet. he's not exactly sure how it's supposed to work, or what it's supposed to do, but he might as well try.
not that the decision to try makes it any simpler. he sits for a good while just rolling the broken chair leg in his hands - splintered right down the middle due to the cheap wood used during its construction. he tries pushing the ends together, tries knocking them against each other, tries various other ways he could think for it to work - none of which do. after these failed attempts, he pauses for a moment to reconsider - it is emotions that he needs to use. something that he can pull forth and feel. he tries to bring up things from home - mount vernon, martha, the last time he was able to go out to hunt - but feels a kind of cold acceptance in his chest. a longing, which could have worked, had he not pushed it away the moment it appeared.
washington thinks for another few moments, twisting the chair leg in his fingers. his mind drifts through a few things - his first promotion to commanding officer, the declaration of war against britain, the winters spent with martha and the troops. but then it shifts still, and washington finds himself smiling thinking about the treaty, yorktown, the cheering in the streets. starting a new nation, battling against the odds. they had defeated britian, they had won. washington can't help the way that extends through his chest - warm and solid and proud - something they can stand behind, something they can create.
when he looks down, the pieces have bonded back together, the wood feeling stronger and more firm under his hands. he's a bit surprised by it, bringing the leg up to check over, test where the break had been, and when he's satisfied with the product he sets the leg back down and reaches for the next one - it doesn't seem too difficult to handle. so far. ]
Revision
[ when he first arrives, there are a list of things he doesn't quiet understand. the voices in his head, how he got here in the first place, most of the items inside the house he's found. the list keeps growing by the day, but washington's comfort level with the fact he doesn't understand it also grows. as long as he could take the time to find footing, it didn't matter how uneven the ground could be.
the one thing he doesn't really look into, much, is the idea of his emotions changing the world around him. he'd always been in constant check of his emotions, both as a soldier, a husband, a gentry member of the virginian upper class, and as a general. his position in life and in society needed to be carefully constructed, and his emotions had always mirrored that intent. the idea that those emotions would need to be used to create and build and the stronger the emotion, the stronger the response, washington wasn't quite sure if he wanted to mess with it.
which is why it does take him a day or two before he finds himself curious enough to try it out. a couple of days, where he has found a home and built up a bit of the run-down areas of the building. it has a new porch, new roofing, a stack of wood for cooking. he feels content enough to find a shady spot underneathe the large oak out front, to settle with a couple of broken...well, things. set around his feet. he's not exactly sure how it's supposed to work, or what it's supposed to do, but he might as well try.
not that the decision to try makes it any simpler. he sits for a good while just rolling the broken chair leg in his hands - splintered right down the middle due to the cheap wood used during its construction. he tries pushing the ends together, tries knocking them against each other, tries various other ways he could think for it to work - none of which do. after these failed attempts, he pauses for a moment to reconsider - it is emotions that he needs to use. something that he can pull forth and feel. he tries to bring up things from home - mount vernon, martha, the last time he was able to go out to hunt - but feels a kind of cold acceptance in his chest. a longing, which could have worked, had he not pushed it away the moment it appeared.
washington thinks for another few moments, twisting the chair leg in his fingers. his mind drifts through a few things - his first promotion to commanding officer, the declaration of war against britain, the winters spent with martha and the troops. but then it shifts still, and washington finds himself smiling thinking about the treaty, yorktown, the cheering in the streets. starting a new nation, battling against the odds. they had defeated britian, they had won. washington can't help the way that extends through his chest - warm and solid and proud - something they can stand behind, something they can create.
when he looks down, the pieces have bonded back together, the wood feeling stronger and more firm under his hands. he's a bit surprised by it, bringing the leg up to check over, test where the break had been, and when he's satisfied with the product he sets the leg back down and reaches for the next one - it doesn't seem too difficult to handle. so far. ]