01-26-2010, 11:18 PM
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702
just a bit under 10k left x___x
Snorting softly, the redhead adjusted an eggshell cover's edges, smoothing out the surfaces in his neurotic tendencies with cloth. Content it was smooth, his focus shifted to completely take in the wall behind Mati as well as her facial features and expressions. Even though he had no idea what the Church woman's floors looked like after however long she had been painting for now, he still sounded as though he knew it well enough to comment. What he imagined was a room with drops of color dotting the floors everywhere, with smudges and long streaks of it. Perhaps it was her tone that led his imagination to imagine those streaks being accidental large swipes of a paintbrush, leaving scratchy paint marks everywhere in the colors of many flowers. "Puh-lease. If it makes my room look far less like a tomb getting ready for the memorial gild, I would gladly take a horde of puppies running in here and rolling around with paint on their backs. I wouldn't offer to wash their fur clean for their mothers, but still," he drawled, turning slowly to take in the bareness of his off-white walls. "I think I'd even let a rampaging moose in here to make some artistic holes in the wall." When Strelein faced the Crimson Dreams female once more, he had a bright look on his face, much like he always did.
Strel could only blink at her requests, wondering how important his task was supposed to be. But the rest of her words jogged his brain into action, letting his feet do the same as he pulled the two requested colors out of the dusty closet. Wiping off the tops of both with the back of his hands, Strel set them near one another near the other four that had already been moved to the middle, but were now pushed a bit further away to make room to work. "Just mix them, right?" he questioned, hoping that she did not mean for him to pour one into the other to create a purple (he DID know basic color theory) since he doubted the stuff in the cans was good for mixing. Plus they already had a nice purple in the closet underneath a golden color. With her confirmation, he reached for the bucket the female had brought with her. Fumbling around in the bucket, Strel pulled out two large wooden mixing sticks that were kind of flat. With them, he swirled the thick, viscous paint, glad to find that it was still smooth after being in the cans for who knew how long. Guess the stuff was meant to least. Or the chemicals were simply so very hardy and cohesive.
"So painting is sort of like sewing, I guess. Or maybe it's the other way around." His words were sudden, out of nowhere as his hand stirred the red, having finished the blue. His free hand was on his thigh as he sat on his covered bed. Strel's lavender eyes peered at the Church woman's back, head cocked a bit as he observed her. "I mean, you need the materials first like anywhere else, but the way you do it is sort of similar," he added, only really half clarifying his previous words. The red was done and felt just fine so the redhead moved on to the white color he had been also asked to stir. "You start from the back and go forward. I have to do the same, otherwise it'll turn out, if you pardon my French, like a piece of shit," the redheaded finally stated, cursing at an old memory of a first attempted piece of clothing. From what he recalled, it was supposed to be a shirt. Or was it a hat? No, no, it had to be a pair of gloves. Whatever it was, it had been a better lesson than a wearable garment. Or an identifiable one.
"I can't thank you enough, Mati."Strel proceeded to shut his flapping lips, content to watch the masterpiece that would be his own personal mural unfold before his very eyes. A content smile played on his face, reaching into his eyes.
Actually, it might have been a vest.
just a bit under 10k left x___x
Snorting softly, the redhead adjusted an eggshell cover's edges, smoothing out the surfaces in his neurotic tendencies with cloth. Content it was smooth, his focus shifted to completely take in the wall behind Mati as well as her facial features and expressions. Even though he had no idea what the Church woman's floors looked like after however long she had been painting for now, he still sounded as though he knew it well enough to comment. What he imagined was a room with drops of color dotting the floors everywhere, with smudges and long streaks of it. Perhaps it was her tone that led his imagination to imagine those streaks being accidental large swipes of a paintbrush, leaving scratchy paint marks everywhere in the colors of many flowers. "Puh-lease. If it makes my room look far less like a tomb getting ready for the memorial gild, I would gladly take a horde of puppies running in here and rolling around with paint on their backs. I wouldn't offer to wash their fur clean for their mothers, but still," he drawled, turning slowly to take in the bareness of his off-white walls. "I think I'd even let a rampaging moose in here to make some artistic holes in the wall." When Strelein faced the Crimson Dreams female once more, he had a bright look on his face, much like he always did.
Strel could only blink at her requests, wondering how important his task was supposed to be. But the rest of her words jogged his brain into action, letting his feet do the same as he pulled the two requested colors out of the dusty closet. Wiping off the tops of both with the back of his hands, Strel set them near one another near the other four that had already been moved to the middle, but were now pushed a bit further away to make room to work. "Just mix them, right?" he questioned, hoping that she did not mean for him to pour one into the other to create a purple (he DID know basic color theory) since he doubted the stuff in the cans was good for mixing. Plus they already had a nice purple in the closet underneath a golden color. With her confirmation, he reached for the bucket the female had brought with her. Fumbling around in the bucket, Strel pulled out two large wooden mixing sticks that were kind of flat. With them, he swirled the thick, viscous paint, glad to find that it was still smooth after being in the cans for who knew how long. Guess the stuff was meant to least. Or the chemicals were simply so very hardy and cohesive.
"So painting is sort of like sewing, I guess. Or maybe it's the other way around." His words were sudden, out of nowhere as his hand stirred the red, having finished the blue. His free hand was on his thigh as he sat on his covered bed. Strel's lavender eyes peered at the Church woman's back, head cocked a bit as he observed her. "I mean, you need the materials first like anywhere else, but the way you do it is sort of similar," he added, only really half clarifying his previous words. The red was done and felt just fine so the redhead moved on to the white color he had been also asked to stir. "You start from the back and go forward. I have to do the same, otherwise it'll turn out, if you pardon my French, like a piece of shit," the redheaded finally stated, cursing at an old memory of a first attempted piece of clothing. From what he recalled, it was supposed to be a shirt. Or was it a hat? No, no, it had to be a pair of gloves. Whatever it was, it had been a better lesson than a wearable garment. Or an identifiable one.
"I can't thank you enough, Mati."Strel proceeded to shut his flapping lips, content to watch the masterpiece that would be his own personal mural unfold before his very eyes. A content smile played on his face, reaching into his eyes.
Actually, it might have been a vest.