[Sophie taps you on the shoulder, sketchpad in one hand and a small object to be determined in the other. She's smiling slightly in an attempt to put the stranger at ease.]
[ He turns in surprise, looking from Sophie to the thing in her hand before his eyes widen slightly in recognition. ]
Oh! Thanks.
[ A bouncy ball. Not anything he couldn't replace, but he is rather attached to this one, mostly because he hasn't yet managed to bounce it into a lake (the first one) or into someone's house (the fourth one) or into a bird's nest (the ninth one). He returns her smile with one of his own. ] Must've fallen out my pocket or something.
[Although, now that he mentions it, isn't it a bit odd? That he has a bouncy ball, she means. Or maybe doesn't mean, because this is all thoughts and she hasn't said anything. She thinks it over for a second, looking a bit spaced out, before shaking her head to clear out the cobwebs.]
[ It's entirely possible he didn't notice her looking spaced out, or that it simply just didn't register as something weird with him. I mean, suddenly thinking of something and looking spaced out isn't that weird, right? Either way, his smile turns a bit sheepish.]
You'd be surprised how much.
[ Or well, you might not. Because his pockets - in his coat, in his hooded top under that, in his backpack, and even in his trousers, all look respectably full of stuff. ]
[She feels sort of... cheerier. Being around him. It's kind of infectious. Not in a bad way, or anything. It's sort of exciting, really. It's kind of hard to not follow along and pep up, to be totally honest. She stands on her tip toes, just a bit, almost bouncing on them. And wow that sure does look like a lot of stuff.]
Probably, yeah. [Might as well ask, right?] Wait a second, why do you have a bouncy ball, anyway?
Because why not? [ He shrugs, but not in a dismissive way - more like he genuinely means, "why not?" when some people would just use that answer to avoid giving a real one. ] Helps me think sometimes. And it's a deterrent for boredom.
[She shrugs right back, in a 'i've never really thought about it' sort of way.]
What happens when you get bored?
[Doesn't everyone, is what she means to add. But she doesn't, because she's got a feeling, more of a hunch, that he's not the type to care about 'everyone'.]
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Oh! Thanks.
[ A bouncy ball. Not anything he couldn't replace, but he is rather attached to this one, mostly because he hasn't yet managed to bounce it into a lake (the first one) or into someone's house (the fourth one) or into a bird's nest (the ninth one). He returns her smile with one of his own. ] Must've fallen out my pocket or something.
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[Although, now that he mentions it, isn't it a bit odd? That he has a bouncy ball, she means. Or maybe doesn't mean, because this is all thoughts and she hasn't said anything. She thinks it over for a second, looking a bit spaced out, before shaking her head to clear out the cobwebs.]
Does that happen a lot?
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You'd be surprised how much.
[ Or well, you might not. Because his pockets - in his coat, in his hooded top under that, in his backpack, and even in his trousers, all look respectably full of stuff. ]
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Probably, yeah. [Might as well ask, right?] Wait a second, why do you have a bouncy ball, anyway?
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What happens when you get bored?
[Doesn't everyone, is what she means to add. But she doesn't, because she's got a feeling, more of a hunch, that he's not the type to care about 'everyone'.]
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[She's pretty sure there's a lot of ways to be 'intolerable'.]
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[She means 'what's the worst you've done?' but that didn't sound quite right in her head.]