Watercolored Worlds:MoMA|(Ichabod) INACTIVE

[JANE EYRE]

All pieces discussed in this post can be found at moma.org

Jane wandered the walls of the Museum of Modern Art calmly...silently. She drank in the pieces of art, some pure genius, like Aristide Maillol's The River and others that were much more crude and raw like Salvador Dali's The Persistence of Memory that screamed emotion. Some pieces Jane could not call art, such as Mark Rothko's No. 3/No. 13. She would never call blocks of color art. It was rudimentary, something a three year old could do.

But, Jane respected the phrase beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

If someone were to find Rothko's work breathtaking, who was she to argue?

Jane was escaping. Away from her high rent and rising costs of living. Away from the students who hated art. Away from the rats that had recently invaded her apartment building. Away from all that into the world's of Doug Aitken, Wilhelm Sasnal, Monika Baer, and Kirsten Deirup. Their world's were so much more pure and clear than Jane's. There were clear boundaries on the canvas or on the paper, clean lines denoting where to or not to go.

Jane did not have such a luxury in the real world.

Jane kept walking, kept mulling, and didn't notice the dampness on her cheeks until she was staring down Ellen Phelan's Light in Far Field. She fumbled with her purse and grabbed a handkerchief and dried her cheeks.

She missed England.

She missed the dear, sweet Adelè who she played governess and nanny to.

She even missed the miserable man who employed her and broke her heart.

Jane continued to pat her cheeks dry as the tears continued. Eventually the tears stopped and Jane was able to compose herself. She told herself that Brooklyn's a better place for her, full of new beginnings.

But it was hard to believe it.

[ichabod]

Ichabod was not one to spend hours mulling around an art museum to stare endlessly at specks of paint on canvas. He was, however, one to take three hours walking through the latest mummy exhibit that was temporarily on location at the Museum of Modern Art. He had already been through once, the day it opened, in fact. And he did indeed take three hours to go through the entire exhibit, which amused both tourists and employees alike.

But why was he back if he had already seen the display? Well, it had come to the boys attention that a new room had been opened as part of the exhibit since he was last there. And, being the investigative type, he simply had to see what he had missed out. Unfortunately for Ichabod, the Ancient Egypt showcase was far towards the back of the museum, so he was forced to mingle with thousands of tourists and wannabe artists gazing at "masterpieces" for minutes at a time, mouths open in awe.

Turning down a hallway, having memorized the map of the museum (including the directions to the traveling exhibits), Ichabod nearly ran square into an incredibly obese man, sniffling as he stared at a drawing of an angel saving a baby from a river. Oh, how... touching, Ichabod scoffed, rolling his eyes at the man.

Ichabod Crane was a man of science and, therefore, lived by his own Bible, per say. He did not believe in God, or any spiritual things for that matter. He simply could not conceive anything that he could not physically see and prove, and repeat. There was no sense in religion to him, and it was simply one big waste of time for the human race to dwell on and war over. And so, as he dwelled in his own thoughts, Ichabod was startled when he ran into, and quite succesfully this time, a young woman.

"I'm terribly sorry." he apoligized quickly, avoiding eye contact. In his 24 years of life, Ichabod had learned that in awkward situations, eye contact only seemed to make things even mroe awkward. Turning to leave, he caught sight of a hankerchief at her face, and the sound of muffled sniffles. "Excuse me, miss..." Ichabod said softly, slowly reaching his arm out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "but, are you alright?"

[JANE EYRE]

Jane hadn't been watching the people around her and was quite stunned when somebody bumped into her. It reminded her that she was in a public place and with a sniffle and a dab at her cheek, Jane tried to compose herself. But, the young man who had run into noticed before she could.

Jane nodded and stashed her handkerchief away in her purse. "Yes, yes I'm fine. Didn't mean to disturb you. I apologize," It didn't occur to Jane until just then that her merry trip down self-pity's lane might disturb some of the viewers. Jane wished that she could have just melted into the floor, like Dali's clocks. It was so rude of her not to consider those around her and just to start crying. She should have excused herself earlier but it was too late. Her misery was known now to a charmingly empathetic young fellow.

"I'll, um..." Jane trailed off and looked around her, trying to find an escape route. "I'll just go then, and leave you to your art watching. Excuse me," Jane moved forward, intent to brush by the man and leave.

[ichabod]

For being a man of science, Ichabod was quite compassionate. He would go out of his way to comfort someone if he saw they were upset. However, once in the situation, he became uncomfortable. Ichabod had very little social skills, and although he felt compassion and empathy, he had no idea how to show it. By watching others, he learned quickly that you were supposed to touch someone if you cared. But that was about the extent of his knowledge.

And, thus, he did not quite know how to react when the girl turned away, saying she was fine. She obviously wasn't, anyone could see. And she turned away as if she was embarassed. Well, Ichabod would be embarassed if he was in a situation such as this, but he wouldn't cry. In fact, Ichabod could never remember a time when he had cried. He never had good reason to cry. No one close to him had died, and he had never become emotionally attatched to someone or something enough to miss it when it was gone. He never could understand what made someone cry.

"Art watching?" Ichabod chuckled, realizing that the girl thought he was one of those obsessed artistic types. He mused the thought over a bit before realizing that the girl had begun walking away. His mind spun as to what he should do next, but before he could make an educated decision, he found his hand reaching out, grabbing the girl gently by the arm. "Don't go.." he heard himself saying, before he even realized what was happening, he was walking the girl over to a bench in the middle of the walkway. What was going on? He had definitely been watching too many movies. "Sit down, and calm yourself." he said with a smile, gesturing towards the bench.

[JANE EYRE]

Jane let herself be lead to the bench and sat down at the invitation. She was more than a little confused by the attention the man was paying her. It had been her experience up 'til then in New York that people minded their own business. When she tripped on the stairwell with her arms full of groceries, four men had passed Jane without helping her. One even went so far as to accuse her of purposely blocking the way.

"Yes, thank you," Jane tucked her feet under the bench and fiddled with the zipper on her purse. She hadn't realized that he had laughed at the term art watching until just then and it stuck out to her.

"Aren't you here to see the art?" Jane couldn't stop herself from asking. It certainly wasn't her place to ask, especially since it had absolutely nothing to do with what was happening. "If you don't mind me asking, that is," That's when finally turned to look at the young man who was helping her. He had a kind, open face that seemed genuinely concerned.

Jane looked down again at her lap and rustled around for a mirror to see just how bad she looked just then.

[ichabod]

With a soft smile in his lips, Ichabod sat down next to the girl, casually looking his new companion over. She was young, at most his age, but probably younger. She seemed rather... plain. Nothing wrong with that, Ichabod mused. The idiom "never judge a book by its cover" was strong in science, and therefore stood as one of lifes laws for Ichabod.

"Oh no, I'm here to see the mummies." the young man grinned, with obvious excitement. "I already saw the exhibit once, but they added in a whole new room, so I have to go see it again." The eagerness on the boys face showed that, although he appeared very mature in appearance and social standing, deep down inside he was still a little boy fascinated with the littlest things.

For a moment, Ichabod appeared rather childish; the boyish smile on his face, head cocked to the side in an innocent manor. With the expression on his face, one could easily have mistaken him for a goofy high school student, not the accomplished college graduate that he was. "You're here to see the art, aren't you?" he smiled, looking directly at the girl. "You look like the artistic type."

And there was nothing wrong with that.

[JANE EYRE]

"Mummies? I didn't know that there was a mummie exhibit," Jane had to pause at that. She hadn't known anything that was going on in the museum really. She had just wanted to get away for a little while and hadn't looked to see what was being showcased. As the man talked about the new room, his smile and excitement was infectious and Jane herself smiling back shyly. He was around her age, just a few years older it seemed, and it made it a little easier to relate to him. "Is it any good?"

Jane couldn't help but blush a little when he called her out as an artistic type. It was strange that he picked up on that just by looking at her. "I'm an art teacher," She said with just a hint of pride. Jane was eighteen years old and a teacher, that was an accomplishment she was very proud of. "And a painter," She added with a shrug.

"Who are you?" Jane asked after a pause.

[ichabod]

Ichabod's grin grew when he saw the girl smiling back. He didn't know why, but this stranger whom he had bumped into out of nowhere caused him to feel giddy. Although it hadn't been scientifically proven, Ichabod did infact believe that smiles were contageous, and was on a secret mission to someday prove it.

"Yes!" he exclaimed at her question about the exhibit. "It's incredible! They have some of the oldest mummies ever discovered!" It brought about some sick morbidity within Ichabod that he was so fascinated with death. But as soon as he began to dwell on that fact, he realized that he dealt with death for a living, so it really shouldn't bother him. At times, however, it did. Why, he wasn't quite sure, but he felt as if it was because, at times, he perfered the deceased to the living.

Hearing her say she was an art teacher, and even a painter, fascinated Icahbod. Although he had no interested in art whatsoever, he was slightly obsessed with the manner in which it was created. Having absolutely no artistic ability at all, he would, at times, sit for hours and watch others draw. He was amazed at how someone could conjure up images in their mind and reproduce them on paper and have them appear so life-like. The effect on the young man was, at times, stunning.

"Ichabod Crane, forensic scientist with the NYPD, at your service." he smiled at the young girl. "And your name is...?"

[JANE EYRE]

Jane laughed lightly at the man's enthusiasm for the exhibit. "Perhaps I'll visit it sometime," Jane said with a grin. "I've always loved history, no reason for mummies to be any less fascinating, right?" Jane felt very at ease around the newly introduced Ichabod Crane. Something about his demeanor made it easy for her to forget that she had broken down mere moments ago in front of a painting.

Hearing that Mr. Crane was with the NYPD as a forensic scientist immediately piqued Jane's interest. Ever since her best friend had died from a fever, a small part of her had been interested in death and what caused it. It was probably because of that small part of her that most of her paintings were dark and a little morbid at times.

"Forensic scientist. That must be an interesting job. Much more interesting than teaching children from the projects how to paint, I'm sure," Jane held out her hand in reflex to shake his. It was what she always tried to do when meeting someone. It was polite, and it was tradition for her. "I'm Jane Eyre,"

[ichabod]

"You love history? The exhibit is just cram packed full of artifacts of all sorts. You'd love it." The young man said with a grin. So far, he was enjoying his day off at the museum, even if he hadn't gotten near the Ancient Egypt exhibit yet.

This girl intruiged Ichabod. She appeared to have lived a very simple life, resulting in her rather plain appearance. She wore no fancy, high priced designer clothes, and her hair was a nice brown, not styled and chopped and dyed like most girls in the city. She had a very natural look, and it was something Ichabod found very appealing.

He noticed her peaked interested at the mention of his career, and a rather large grin grew on his face. "Well, I wouldn't go as far as to say that.." he joked. "But your profession, it's very noble of you to do that, to give back to children who basically have nothing. It's a great thing you're doing." Ichabod said quite genuinely. He did in fact find the young girls chosen line of work to be quite interesting, and he made a mental note to question her at a later date about it. If she stayed around long enough, that is.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. Ichabods eyes began to glimmer as he turned towards Jane. "Hey, why don't you come with me to the exhibit? It'll be fun!" He nearly giggled, his childish nature showing through again. Ichabod felt as though he was about to embark on some grand adventure, accompanied by a lovely young lady whom he hoped would become, at the very least, a new friend.

[JANE EYRE]

"It's hardly a noble job when it's all you can get," Jane loved her job, she really did, but she hadn't taken it because she could do some good. Well, no, she did, but really she took it because she had to. She needed money and a steady job and art teacher provided both. Jane felt like she did do some good, with the two or three students who actually listened, but all the rest were there just for a credit, and not for some life affirming lesson. Not that Jane could provide those, she was only eighteen afterall.

When Ichabod asked her to join him at the mummie exhibit, Jane was reminded of Adelè's innocent glee whenever she spotted a new dragonfly and wanted Jane to help her investigate. She hadn't been able to say no to Adelè, and Jane doubted that she could say no to Ichabod either. He was too friendly to turn down. "I'd be glad to join you. Thank you for asking," Jane was already feeling much better than she had been when she walked into the MoMA. Gone were the overbearing thoughts about her past and her current, less than ideal situation.

Right then, it was about seeing the mummies and learning something new with a new companion and possibly future friend. That was more than enough for Jane to consider the day a victory even though it started out as a loss.

[ichabod]

Head slightly tilted to the side, Ichabod listened to her words. "Still, it takes a special sort of person to become a teacher. It takes patience and love and trust." He smiled and patted Jane on the leg in a friendly manner. "Now, me, I could never be a teacher. I have no patience whatsoever. It comes out to my advantage, sometimes, 'cause the lab pushes my tests to the front of the line. Apparently I get really nosy and bossy when I'm waiting for my test results.." Laughing, the boy rolled his eyes.

It was true, unfortunately. Every time Ichabod had some blood or DNA or other evidence that needed to be tested, he had to wait hours at the least to get the results back. Because of that, he usually spent the time either poking around other workers, just watching them do their job, or listened to music rather loudly in the office he shared with 3 other CSIs. He had absolutely no patience for anything, which frustrated the lab techs to the point where whenever he brought in evidence, it was the next thing to test, just so he would get out of their hair.

Standing up, the tall boy grinned at Janes acceptance to his invitation. The excitement was clear as day, and made Ichabod look quite rediculous. "You're gonna love it. It's great." he smiled as he stood, waiting for his companion to join him.

[ooc; sorry its crap, lol =P][/size]

[JANE EYRE]

Jane smiled brightly and stood up. She swung her purse over her shoulder and fixed her skirt and shirt so she looked presentable. "I'm not so sure that you're going to like me then," Jane joked, commenting on his urgent personality. "I'm very patient person, Mr. Crane," Which was true. Jane didn't lose her temper, she didn't get impatient. Well, at least, she was patient most of the time. Like all humans she was falable and had moments of weakness.

Jane noticed how blissfully excited Ichabod was. He seemed like a child going to see Saint Nicholas on Christmas Eve; all of his dreams and wishes were about to come true. It was amazing to her that her acceptance of his invitation was able to garner such a reaction from him. Jane didn't think it was possible to be so overjoyed just by having company. Obviously, it was as one Ichabod Crane had just showed.

"Lead the way, Mr. Crane," Jane nodded down the walkway. "I haven't the slightest clue where the exhibit is seeing as I didn't even know it was here to begin with,"

[ooc: it's all right. it matches the general lameness of mine]

[ichabod]

Chuckling, Ichabod looked over at his companion. "Ah, but Miss Eyre, it is there that you are wrong." Ichabod grinned, putting on a air of upmost sophistication. "I like you already, my dear. I find you to be a rather charming person. My first impressions of people are never wrong." He winked, tilting his head upwards to produce a cocky, arrogant attitude. It worked, for a time, before he broke down in laughter.

The facade was not entirely false, however. The sophistication was an act, but Ichabod Crane really did believe himself to be one of the best in his field, and never passed by an opportunity to rub it in someones face.

As Jane stood up to join him, Ichabod very politely extended his arm in a crooked manner for hers, as a rather old fashioned gentleman would do. "Now, Miss Eyre," he started, keeping up with his previous act of a proper Englishman. "I must insist on you calling me by my first name. Mr. Crane is far too formal for this situation." He laughed softly.

Suddenly, it dawned on him that he was having fun in an environment and with someone who had absolutely nothing to do with his job. It was the first time since he had moved to New York that he had enjoyed spending time outside of the lab with someone who was far from a scientist. Jane was an artist, something Ichabod normally looked down upon, but she did not try to force her opinons on him as many other artists he had encountered had. She was quiet, polite, and well kept- not to mention very plesant to be around. Ichabod smiled as he began walking. He was going to enjoy this day.

[JANE EYRE]

Jane blushed and shyly tucked her hand into the crook of Ichabod's extended arm. "I've never been called charming before," Jane said quietly, mostly to herself. Plain? Yes. Quaint? Sometimes. Never charming; at least, not charming to nice, attractive young men. The parents of the children she taught used charming carelessly when they talk to her, but they didn't truly understand its meaning. Jane herself doubted that she knew the true meaning despite her education. In America, the simplest words took on a new life.

"Alright, Ichabod," Jane said, a tad more composed. "But you, in return, must call me Jane," The tone between the two of them was light and companionable. it made it very easy to enjoy Ichabod's company. Jane felt like he didn't expect anything from her. He didn't impose his views of what a lesser person should be like on her and he didn't expect her to make herself small and invisible. It clear that Ichabod was relatively well off just based on his clothes but he didn't hold himself to the standard of the others who were well off monetarily.

Jane didn't worry about what was proper with him, even though he was stranger. She was more at ease with him than she was with most anyone else. "When I was younger, my aunt had several books that were about the world. One of my favorites was about Egypt and the pyramids. I read it almost everyday I could until I was sent off to school," Jane felt no shame in sharing something about her childhood. Of course, she wouldn't mention the demons or the Red Room, but sharing her favorite book wasn't too difficult.