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Characters: Basil Hallward, Martha Jones
Rating: no higher than PG, I think
Trigger Warnings: None anticipated, Martha's previous abuse might come up?
Location: Basil's flat
Day and Time: June 25th
Status: closed
He was alone in the apartment for the moment and had busied himself setting up a corner of the living room for his work. Near the window, where the most natural light was afforded. He tacked up one of the dull sheets from their linen cupboard to use for a back-drop-- the drapery would be more interesting than the bare wall-- and pulled over an an armchair that he hoped was suitably comfortable. Then he put up his easel and got out all his brushes and cleaned them and sorted them and checked all his paints and pigments.
He felt very at ease, in spite of them peculiar situation he had found himself in. Peace seemed to have settled between Gray and Marco, and it was wonderful to sleep tucked between them at night (though they hadn't gotten up to much else, things were still too confusing) and to sit and talk with them during the day, to prepare meals together and try to make themselves comfortable, find a way to make a normal sort of life in their strange surroundings and stranger arrangement. But he was happy, and now he had found his most comforting possessions and was embarking on a new project. He'd never painted someone like Martha before, and looked forward to the challenge, and to being able to give his friend a beautiful gift when it was done. And he hoped she would find it to her liking, he wanted to very much to give her something in thanks for helping him so much in the past, and to give her some happiness and comfort after how difficult things had been for her.
He checked the chair again, added another pillow or two and fidgeted with it until he was sure it was in the right light. And then he waited, listening for Martha's knock.
Rating: no higher than PG, I think
Trigger Warnings: None anticipated, Martha's previous abuse might come up?
Location: Basil's flat
Day and Time: June 25th
Status: closed
He was alone in the apartment for the moment and had busied himself setting up a corner of the living room for his work. Near the window, where the most natural light was afforded. He tacked up one of the dull sheets from their linen cupboard to use for a back-drop-- the drapery would be more interesting than the bare wall-- and pulled over an an armchair that he hoped was suitably comfortable. Then he put up his easel and got out all his brushes and cleaned them and sorted them and checked all his paints and pigments.
He felt very at ease, in spite of them peculiar situation he had found himself in. Peace seemed to have settled between Gray and Marco, and it was wonderful to sleep tucked between them at night (though they hadn't gotten up to much else, things were still too confusing) and to sit and talk with them during the day, to prepare meals together and try to make themselves comfortable, find a way to make a normal sort of life in their strange surroundings and stranger arrangement. But he was happy, and now he had found his most comforting possessions and was embarking on a new project. He'd never painted someone like Martha before, and looked forward to the challenge, and to being able to give his friend a beautiful gift when it was done. And he hoped she would find it to her liking, he wanted to very much to give her something in thanks for helping him so much in the past, and to give her some happiness and comfort after how difficult things had been for her.
He checked the chair again, added another pillow or two and fidgeted with it until he was sure it was in the right light. And then he waited, listening for Martha's knock.