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Room 210; Thursday [04/18].
Apr. 18th, 2019 06:54 amIt was a little weird, really; it felt like Astrid still had all the time in the world, and then it was Thursday, with a portal date on Monday, and then that was it. She had no more classes; she had maybe one more shift at T&C if she wanted, but she probably wouldn't bother, and then the weekend, and that was it, and she'd spent some time yesterday white-washing the wall again (another layer, the room another fraction of an inch smaller), so that she could really focus and concentrate on filling it back up again with her very last painting.
She'd spent so much time trying to figure out what it should be, wanting it to be something rife with significance and importance. She considering going the route that Sabine usually did, a collage of various things that had happened over her year here, going through her strange journey from being convinced she was losing her mind to gracefully accepting things like being a lamb for a week or a Viking for a weekend, the people came from different worlds and different time periods, and very little of it made sense, and yet it all seemed to work. That her roommate was from space, she was in a self-made prison 'gang' that consisted of only one other person, and one of her best friends was a cat-faced girl who didn't see herself as a cat-faced girl. She'd had her first kiss here, she'd been a redhead, she'd been on homecoming court, she'd even been on the damn Student Council. She'd come a really long way from that quiet girl hunched over a sketchbook, hiding behind her hair and not wanting to talk to anyone. There would be no lack of things to paint in a collage like that.
But, ultimately, in the end, Astrid decided it really wasn't her style. Grabbing a ladder, so that she could start in the very top corner of the wall and work her way across and down, she had her palette of mostly greys and blacks and whites, with some dark, deep blues, pale hints of red, rich hunter greens. And she set to the task of painting out a wall full of oleanders, delicate little stars of five even, deadly petals in various sizes scattered from one end to the other, mostly in greyscale, playing with shadow and light, with little streaks of color here and there, on the way a particular petal turned, on the underside of a stem, little bursts to keep it from entirely fading into itself.
[[ door and post are open! ]]
She'd spent so much time trying to figure out what it should be, wanting it to be something rife with significance and importance. She considering going the route that Sabine usually did, a collage of various things that had happened over her year here, going through her strange journey from being convinced she was losing her mind to gracefully accepting things like being a lamb for a week or a Viking for a weekend, the people came from different worlds and different time periods, and very little of it made sense, and yet it all seemed to work. That her roommate was from space, she was in a self-made prison 'gang' that consisted of only one other person, and one of her best friends was a cat-faced girl who didn't see herself as a cat-faced girl. She'd had her first kiss here, she'd been a redhead, she'd been on homecoming court, she'd even been on the damn Student Council. She'd come a really long way from that quiet girl hunched over a sketchbook, hiding behind her hair and not wanting to talk to anyone. There would be no lack of things to paint in a collage like that.
But, ultimately, in the end, Astrid decided it really wasn't her style. Grabbing a ladder, so that she could start in the very top corner of the wall and work her way across and down, she had her palette of mostly greys and blacks and whites, with some dark, deep blues, pale hints of red, rich hunter greens. And she set to the task of painting out a wall full of oleanders, delicate little stars of five even, deadly petals in various sizes scattered from one end to the other, mostly in greyscale, playing with shadow and light, with little streaks of color here and there, on the way a particular petal turned, on the underside of a stem, little bursts to keep it from entirely fading into itself.
[[ door and post are open! ]]
