nikolai (mentalradio) wrote in willowbrookrpg, @ 2013-12-05 04:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, day: october 17, ferran o'daley, nikolai mason, player: cecil, player: chelsea |
October 17, 2013
WHO: Nikolai Mason & Ferran O’Daley
WHAT: Painting~
WHEN: October 17, Thursday afternoon
WHERE: Nikolai’s apartment
RATING: TBD
STATUS: Closed, incomplete
Nikolai had done more than his fair share of painting this week. Canvas after canvas covered in splashes of paint, most without any regard to style or technique. They were all throwaway creations, nothing worth looking at again when he slashed his last streak of color across the cloth. Granted, he never bothered to admire most of his paintings. This week’s were different though. Maybe they said more about him than he cared to hear.
He’d grown momentarily tired of the blank, rectangular fabric but not of painting. Somehow that translated into his current situation. Niko sat on the floor cross-legged, to the left of Ferran who was sprawled out, laying on his stomach reading. Nothing particularly unusual about that scenario. Except that Nikolai had decided to paint his newest masterpiece on his friend.
His fingers held the brush loosely and moved it in a deft, curvy sweep up the side of Ferran’s neck, leaving a trail of forest green in its path. The squiggle began at his shirt collar and snaked upward, ending in a tight swirl, just below the man’s ear. Its sibling vines lined his friend’s neck. They were all of varying lengths and widths and gave the impression of some sprawling plant growth rising from beneath his shirt to overtake his skin. Taking a break from crafting the serpentine shapes, Nikolai moved to supplement the tendrils with their leaves, roughly heart-shaped and brighter than the vines. His teeth chewed at his bottom lip in concentration: this was the first time in days that he’d actually focused this thoroughly. Ferran, by virtue of his mere presence, had somehow left the painter with a sense of calm this afternoon. Nikolai could not be more grateful.
After uncrossing his legs, he folded them up underneath him so he could more easily lean across Ferran to reach the right side of his neck. A small frown creased his brow and he reached out, brushing Ferran’s hair from his path.