01-29-2010, 10:40 PM
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1062
c:
As if reading the Church woman's mind, the redhead shook his head after having his nose hovering over the open paint. It was old paint, to be sure, but the fumes were still potent enough to knock a wolf that was not wary out like a smoked up pothead. Sniffing the stuff for the past few minutes was just enough to give the chevalier a slightly fuzzy view. Perhaps the stuff grew more potent fume wise and weaker color wise. But the brightness of the tints still seemed to be just as full and clear as they had been in the prime. Then again, Strelein did not know what it was like when the shopkeeper first put it on the shelf with the other brand name cans. Could they have been better? Brighter? What did it matter? As long as it worked and did the job, there should be no problems here. If there were, the redhead would not feel too terrible about it, despite it meaning another trip to Halifax to find colors of the same or similar name and type. Otherwise, it did not seem to be too much of a pain. Were these feelings of near intoxication the same feelings those on weed got? Was this the same high they experienced? The same mellow? Strel did not really feel mellow; he felt just a bit dizzy.
The most drug related thing that the redhead had done was drink some booze at a celebration with the pack down in a cave by the sea. The second occasion had been with Rurik and it had been a sample of some vodka, which he had never tasted before, obviously. Strelein had never had any of the smoked, injected, or eaten drugs that he had heard of once upon a time in Toronto, though some sounded appealing enough to attempt. Without anyone he could trust completely, he would not risk a single one of them; he did not need some freaks stoned out of their minds shaving him. And shaving him in places he wanted to keep covered in case he chose to walk around without his pants on. Plus having weird shapes on his back where there should be hair would not really appeal to potential friends. What kind of person in their right mind would easily trust a guy with a penis shaved onto his back? It would be funny, but Strel would never live it down. And never take his pants or vests off until all of it grew back again.
Sighing, he got up and away from the paints to watch Mati sketch, sitting down a bit behind her. "I guess we just need to make do with the stuff left behind. I think what's here is still pretty good considering how old some of it has to be. Older than you or me, come on," he laughed, crossing his feet underneath him and leaning in on his hands. "We're using things probably four or five times our ages combined and then doubled, Mati. Doesn't that just make you feel so youuuung?" he inquired, tilting his head and straining his neck to see around the Church woman's body. The mural's sketch was coming along well and the grin on his face reflected his eagerness and excitement. "I also feel kind of stupid sometimes, but I think that's probably got to do with something sort of different," Strel added lightly, finally having enough of just watching his walls slowly gain the shell of their future glory.
With a slight groan and a dusting off, the redhead grabbed a piece of chalk from the woman's bags (without asking her of course), and went to the opposite side of the wall. Practically dropping himself down in the corner, he looked at it, wondering how far he could push his rather limited drawing skills. This would be a corner of the beach scene he had suggested, but now it would have some additions that he had not told Mati about. Strel hummed for a bit, letting his song-like noise echo in the room. The chalk scrapped against the wall behind him while the piece in his fingers rested against the blank canvas. Pink tongue stuck out as he thought, tapping the wall lightly, breaking a small piece of the utensil off.
Nothing to do but try, he thought, as the chalk moved lightly across the area closest to him. The chevalier tried to do his best by going with broad strokes on those big background details, which he knew attempting would cause a series of giggle fits on his own part and then shame at the skills they were done. So Strel simply gave some basic knowledge as to where everyone was. Then he focused, and boy did he focus. A few figures took shape on the beach, which it really did not resemble just yet, one building a sandcastle that looked like a bobbin or something else oddly shapped; the other was standing next to something that looked like a letter 'A', holding something in her hand. They were stick figures, but it was the very best that the redhead was going to be able to do without making a face look like a dried out coconut that had been hammered and then pieced back together. Maybe Mati would be kind enough to fix the details later?
The bodies of the creatures on the beach were like gourds, with dots for eyes and a line for the mouth and two triangles just sticking out of the gourd. The bodies were straight lines with sticks coming out of it for the arms and legs, and a strange squiggly line with small spikes for the tail. Were these supposed to be the two of them? he wondered to himself, squinting to see some sort of resemblance. Shaking his head, Strel added a couple of dots around the sandcastle builder for the necklace around his own neck. Maybe that would help. Maybe it would just make Mati laugh harder. "Mati, I hope you know that I am going to be really useless on painting on details that aren't sketched there..," he warned in a low voice, almost a whine, as he brushed away a mistake. He knew that he shouldn't have, but he was a perfectionist at times and it was kicking in just then.
c:
As if reading the Church woman's mind, the redhead shook his head after having his nose hovering over the open paint. It was old paint, to be sure, but the fumes were still potent enough to knock a wolf that was not wary out like a smoked up pothead. Sniffing the stuff for the past few minutes was just enough to give the chevalier a slightly fuzzy view. Perhaps the stuff grew more potent fume wise and weaker color wise. But the brightness of the tints still seemed to be just as full and clear as they had been in the prime. Then again, Strelein did not know what it was like when the shopkeeper first put it on the shelf with the other brand name cans. Could they have been better? Brighter? What did it matter? As long as it worked and did the job, there should be no problems here. If there were, the redhead would not feel too terrible about it, despite it meaning another trip to Halifax to find colors of the same or similar name and type. Otherwise, it did not seem to be too much of a pain. Were these feelings of near intoxication the same feelings those on weed got? Was this the same high they experienced? The same mellow? Strel did not really feel mellow; he felt just a bit dizzy.
The most drug related thing that the redhead had done was drink some booze at a celebration with the pack down in a cave by the sea. The second occasion had been with Rurik and it had been a sample of some vodka, which he had never tasted before, obviously. Strelein had never had any of the smoked, injected, or eaten drugs that he had heard of once upon a time in Toronto, though some sounded appealing enough to attempt. Without anyone he could trust completely, he would not risk a single one of them; he did not need some freaks stoned out of their minds shaving him. And shaving him in places he wanted to keep covered in case he chose to walk around without his pants on. Plus having weird shapes on his back where there should be hair would not really appeal to potential friends. What kind of person in their right mind would easily trust a guy with a penis shaved onto his back? It would be funny, but Strel would never live it down. And never take his pants or vests off until all of it grew back again.
Sighing, he got up and away from the paints to watch Mati sketch, sitting down a bit behind her. "I guess we just need to make do with the stuff left behind. I think what's here is still pretty good considering how old some of it has to be. Older than you or me, come on," he laughed, crossing his feet underneath him and leaning in on his hands. "We're using things probably four or five times our ages combined and then doubled, Mati. Doesn't that just make you feel so youuuung?" he inquired, tilting his head and straining his neck to see around the Church woman's body. The mural's sketch was coming along well and the grin on his face reflected his eagerness and excitement. "I also feel kind of stupid sometimes, but I think that's probably got to do with something sort of different," Strel added lightly, finally having enough of just watching his walls slowly gain the shell of their future glory.
With a slight groan and a dusting off, the redhead grabbed a piece of chalk from the woman's bags (without asking her of course), and went to the opposite side of the wall. Practically dropping himself down in the corner, he looked at it, wondering how far he could push his rather limited drawing skills. This would be a corner of the beach scene he had suggested, but now it would have some additions that he had not told Mati about. Strel hummed for a bit, letting his song-like noise echo in the room. The chalk scrapped against the wall behind him while the piece in his fingers rested against the blank canvas. Pink tongue stuck out as he thought, tapping the wall lightly, breaking a small piece of the utensil off.
Nothing to do but try, he thought, as the chalk moved lightly across the area closest to him. The chevalier tried to do his best by going with broad strokes on those big background details, which he knew attempting would cause a series of giggle fits on his own part and then shame at the skills they were done. So Strel simply gave some basic knowledge as to where everyone was. Then he focused, and boy did he focus. A few figures took shape on the beach, which it really did not resemble just yet, one building a sandcastle that looked like a bobbin or something else oddly shapped; the other was standing next to something that looked like a letter 'A', holding something in her hand. They were stick figures, but it was the very best that the redhead was going to be able to do without making a face look like a dried out coconut that had been hammered and then pieced back together. Maybe Mati would be kind enough to fix the details later?
The bodies of the creatures on the beach were like gourds, with dots for eyes and a line for the mouth and two triangles just sticking out of the gourd. The bodies were straight lines with sticks coming out of it for the arms and legs, and a strange squiggly line with small spikes for the tail. Were these supposed to be the two of them? he wondered to himself, squinting to see some sort of resemblance. Shaking his head, Strel added a couple of dots around the sandcastle builder for the necklace around his own neck. Maybe that would help. Maybe it would just make Mati laugh harder. "Mati, I hope you know that I am going to be really useless on painting on details that aren't sketched there..," he warned in a low voice, almost a whine, as he brushed away a mistake. He knew that he shouldn't have, but he was a perfectionist at times and it was kicking in just then.