white_oleander: (red - hair up)
Apparently, the last few weeks (and at least the week to come) would be filled with a lot of changes for Astrid. New hair color, new tattoo, new criminal record, new job. In three days, she'd be turning fifteen, too, a new age. Add that to feeling incredibly inspired by her science class earlier, she figured it only stood to reason that it would be time for some new art on her wall, too.

So she spent some time pulling up her hair, pulling out all the tarps to put over the furniture, pushing her bed away from the wall and started painting over the current art, those dark and moody trees that barely seemed to bother her anymore, to cover it all with a wash of white, a fresh start, a new vision, and while she waited for it to dry, she picked out her colors. So many colors, but mostly greens and reds, and a blue so pale it was almost white. Warm yellows and oranges, alluring colors, colors that drew the eye and brought you closer with the promise of fragrance, and then that's how they got you, the venus fly traps, the pitcher plants, the lily of the valley and the oleander.

Plenty of oleander, all gathered around the head of her bed. The reason she was here to begin with, the reason she would remain, and perhaps the reason, deep down, she was starting not to mind so much that she would.


[[ apparently, scorpios who don't tell anyone about their birthdays is a new type for me. Open door, open post! ]]
white_oleander: (not quite the bird...)
Astrid, who'd spent most of her day clinging to a bottle of water, went to the store with the intention of picking up some aspirin, some art supplies, and a darker pair of sunglasses, and walked out with most of those things, plus, surprisingly, a box of hair dye, which now sat in her hands as she sat on the floor in the middle of her room, reading over the instructions. Apparently, a bit of last night's game had gotten more than enough bugs in her brain that this seemed like a good idea. If anything, she knew Ingrid would hate it, and that thought right there was enough to convince Astrid to go ahead and tear open the box with the full resolve to use it and not look back.

There was more than enough newspaper in the room at all times for random art projects, so it was easy enough to spread some out with the intention of catching any spilled dye, but hesitation set in once Astrid tilted her head, watched her long, long, pale blonde hair tumble forward around her head and she shook it, breathing in the scent of shampoo and memories. It would be difficult, she realized, to get all this by herself; maybe she should wait for Sabine to get back from work, she was an expert at hair dye, right? But she also kind of liked the idea of maybe surprising Sabine with it; it would definitely be unexpected, she liked to think that Sabine would be impressed, even, and she liked the idea of impressing Sabine maybe even a little more than the idea of pissing off her mother.

Sabine was actually here, for one.

But it might have to wait a moment, maybe, because her own head of blonde, blonde hair was distracting her, making her hesitate, making her wonder if it was a bad idea, while her fingers played around with the little coloring packet, uncertain.

[[ for the roommate, but also open if you'd like! ]]
white_oleander: (sweet in a dress)
Astrid had originally planned to spend today in the library, trying to figure out this YouTube thing Mr. Stark had mentioned, but then there was a surprise waiting for her on her desk when she came back to the room last night. Surprise honestly didn't seem to cover how she felt about it. She definitely hadn't done anything to warrent it, it wasn't her birthday for another couple months...She thought of when her mom started seeing someone new, they'd treat her to little things to win Ingrid's favor, she thought of Starr taking her shopping for new clothes, that pink dress and the matching heels that were still tucked into the corner of her suitcase as if she'd never expected to stay here longer than a week, the hiking boots that she still wore nearly every day.

She never knew what to do with all those things, either, but she also knew not to look a gift card in the mouth. She had a big project in mind, and now she had the resources to make it happen with only the slightest reservation that she really didn't deserve it.

And so the bed and the desk were pulled away from the wall on her side of the room, the tarps were out and spread, she pulled her hair back and threw on some old clothes, and got to work with her carefully chosen materials. Small tubs of paints, black and grey and white, large brushes, and, to her surprise, quite a bit of green, which she planned to worked around the inside of the big black tree in the corner that would be the centerpiece for her new work of art, glowing like life, with veins of darker green worked subtly into the trunk like vines.

The Blue Period, it would seem, had passed. But what exactly would Green entail?

[[ door and post are open, with work related slowness. Three day weekend, wtf is that??]]
white_oleander: (lying on the floor)
Astrid only had the one class that day, early in the morning, and then she was done, which meant she found herself once again with too much time on her hands and not enough things to fill it with. She hadn't slept well again last night, those nightmares slipping in again, rendering her depressed and moody. She didn't even feel like drawing. She laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about possibly redoing the painting on the wall, it'd been a while since she switched it up, she would do gray this time, like a foggy morning, with shadows of trees, and one large, bold, black one in the foreground, in the corner where she laid her head, reaching up and spreading its branches over the ceiling. Embrace the thing that was scaring her the most now, because how much worse could it be when she was already obsessing about it night and day?

But she couldn't find the motivation. She'd honestly been surprised she'd been motivated to go to class, but she went right back to the room, lied down, stared at the ceiling for hours now. At one point, she'd gotten her Captain America sock puppet, held it up, looked at it, and had a conversation with herself and the puppet in her bad Captain America voice, where Cap tried to give her punchy PSA-like advice on feeling better, but it didn't seem to work, and she sighed, dropping her hand again, staring at the ceiling again, thinking that it was kind of weird to attempt to encourage yourself with self-made puppets of the superhero personas of one of your teachers, anyway.

She was starting to get hungry, too, but even then, she just didn't want to move. Not unless that moving involved getting on an airplane and flying back home. Hell, she'd even take a bus, at this point. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea, actually...

And at least she'd managed to keep herself from crying. That was something, too.

[[ for the roomie, mostly! I certainly wouldn't object if anyone else wanted to pop in on her, either, though, and there will most certainly be SP]]

[[also, it said Wednesday all along. You can clearly see what kind of week I've had, holy crap]]
white_oleander: (butterfly sitting)
And so it would seem that Astrid had herself a new pet bird. She couldn't seem to shake the little expressive wren (pure coincidence, and nothing more). She tried letting it out on Thursday, only to have it right back into the dorms, chirping up a storm, and yesterday evening, Astrid had managed to escape it for a little while when it went flying, only then to have it somehow find her window, knock on it with its beak until she let it back in, where it then curled up on Sabine's bed. It seemed to pick derisively at her offerings of birdseed and it complained quite a bit, seeming generally cranky with its current state of affairs and yet completely unwilling to change them whenever Astrid tried to let it go.

The thought that it might actually be Sabine, she'd completely booted out of her head, because that was impossible. The conversation between the two of them before the bird arrived was obviously just a result of too many paint fumes in a poorly ventilated room. It didn't even seem implausible that Sabine had gone off for most of the week, probably staying in that warehouse she was always talking about, painting it up, and managing to step out at just the moment when Astrid went to go check.

But still, she had a faintly crazy idea and nothing better to do, so Astrid went to the store to get a few things, and when she got back to the room, she laid out the roll of art paper she'd bought until it covered most of the floor. She'd definitely gotten the bird's attention, grinning faintly over at it as she also set out a few paper plates, dumping a different colored paint in each one. She nodded at the bird, picked it up, and set it into the first one, the bright, bright pink one.

The bird knew exactly what Astrid was doing, let out an approving chirp, and then the rest of the afternoon was Astrid and the bird painting the paper on the floor, Astrid with her brushes, the bird by hopping around in the colors and then hopping along the paper in a variety of ways that almost seemed intentional in their efforts to make something bright and colorful and beautiful.

Man. She couldn't wait to show off their new artistic little friend to Sabine when she got back from...wherever she'd gone off to.

[[door and post are open!]]
white_oleander: (listening)
After grabbing some lunch, Astrid found herself surprisingly antsy to get back to her room, where she knew the Fish would be waiting. She wasn't expecting to want anything to do with her, intent to just foist it onto Sabine to have her painterly ways with it, but she had thought of at least a few things she wanted to do before she bequeathed the honor.

Which was to take her mother's knife and crudely carve a Shakespeare quote ("A little water clears us of this deed.") into the underside of its belly. And then set it among her oleander and sketch it, for the backside of a letter to her mother that she planned to open with the line, The other day, I won a fish from the river of Babel...

Might as well try to get something out of it. And then it was a matter of whether or not to include the holographic images it apparently decided to project at random now without even being touched.

God. This place.

[[she's expecting a roommate, but door and post are open!]]

Profile

white_oleander: (Default)
Astrid Magnussen

March 2022

S M T W T F S
   12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jan. 6th, 2026 08:53 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios