"Blue blue glass moon amongst the crimson air..."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Dancer
Guild:
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Post by Blue on Nov 17, 2014 16:48:26 GMT
The day was starting anew as it always did, with no interruption from the hustle and bustle of the city or its sleepless population. It was a fine day to be out and about, particularly for those with an eye for beauty. So what was it that caught the eye of an astute artisan such as Blue? Well, there were two certainties to be found in this particular area. One, that the cathedral always stood high above the people, a work of art from a lost age that the man of today could only dream of replicating. Two, that there was always someone respawning from this position in a shimmer of divine light. The latter was of course what caught the attention of Blue the most. A fluttering image of beauty as life was brought back into this world so elegantly. Blue had to capture that beaut at least once.
She sat at the corner of the plaza, dressed in clothes that advertised her profession shamelessly. A french beret sat atop her pink crown and a form-fitting apron wrapped around her body. A palette coated in various shades of paint sat propped against her hand, and her easel stood tall in front of her, carrying a canvas as large as her upper half upon its wooden stand. Cerulean emerald hues analyzed the scene before her, studying every intrinsic detail for the desired effect. It was a skill to paint light within light and retain the fundamentals of composition. The Artisan needed to be sure that every piece of information was ready, while not committing to one form at a time. a fatal flaw would be to expect a scene to not change at the drop of a hat.
[Words: 288] [Craft lvl: 1]
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"Blue blue glass moon amongst the crimson air..."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Dancer
Guild:
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Post by Blue on Nov 17, 2014 17:24:42 GMT
Day 1: Hour 1
Blue arrived at the Plaza early that day, hoping to spot some of the early resurrections taking place in the light of dawn. It took a while, almost too long as terrible as that sounds, for anyone to appear in that flash of divine light. It was a bittersweet thought for Blue, seeing as the less she saw of that light, the less people were dying out in the wilderness. All the same, the rouge artisan sat there, studying her canvas and watching as human forms fell from the sky in shimmering light, taking shape of the brave adventurers who had previously fallen in combat. Her study revealed compelling observations. The expression of emotion one felt as their life ended abruptly and returned to them just as easily. It added to the tone of the scene, and sent shivers up Blue's spine as she recorded it against the canvas with paint.
It would take some time to capture the scenery perfectly. Basic framework, composition, background, perspective, and subject all had to be meticulously laid out beforehand. For an outside observer, it looked like Blue was just putting blotches of paint on a canvas. But to the trained eye, they were points of beauty from where she could paint from which would eventually coalesce into a single piece of grandeur for all to see. The basic foundation would come first, painting occluded versions of her background and silhouettes to remind her where her subject would be within this scene. By the end of the first hour, it didn't look like much, but true beauty always came from humble beginnings.
[Word Count: 277] [Craft lvl: 2]
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"Blue blue glass moon amongst the crimson air..."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Dancer
Guild:
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Post by Blue on Nov 21, 2014 15:29:43 GMT
Day 1: Hour 2
The fundamental difference of paint from any medium was the knowledge the unforgiving nature of its progression. It was easy enough to fix a mistake if you caught it immediately, but were you to catch yourself well after the mistake had been made, your work was likely to fail, depending on the mistake. At best you could paint over it in a tedious process and take the waste of time as punishment. At worst, you were likely to lose all your progress from when that mistake was made and be forced to start over. Blue didn't feel like buying a new canvas for that. So it was a natural choice to go with the much simpler option of not making a mistake. She held her brush with a dainty hand, making sure for each brush stroke to count as she hummed a tune. The rhythm of her strokes matched her melody, creating an enchanting ritual display as she brought her work to life out in the open plaza. As life trickled in from the sky into the center of the cathedral square, her stroke followed, painting an amalgam of the multiple figures she had seen within the light while capturing the revival process at the same time. It was beautiful to watch, like witnessing a newborn child opening their eyes to the world for the first time. It was almost like that anyway. By now adventurers had grown accustomed to death. But you could never really shake off that feeling of a new life bequeathed to you after the previous had been taken away. That was what Blue was here to capture.
By now people were gathering around, passing the painter by and wondering what she was doing with inquisitive looks and passive glares. She paid them no mind, allowing the music escaping her own lips to whisk her away into what others would call 'the zone' or some other sort of metaphor. In the end did it matter? All the artisan cared about was the feeling of the brush against canvas, and the ephemeral beauty that she so desperately wished to freeze in time. It was like watching a magician wave a magic wand around in an attempt to cast an enchantment. Perhaps she was enchanting herself in a way. A trance that isolated her from the world around her to focus on one singular goal. It was as if time slowed to a snail's pace from her own perspective, and yet to others her strokes were quick, calculated, and above all accurate. This was the efficiency and style of a master painter, not the cheap imitations that players would take advantage of before the catastrophe. No system to guide your hand, just your own heart as one poured their soul into their work. This was what Blue lived for.
[Word Count: 475] [Craft Lvl: 3]
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"Blue blue glass moon amongst the crimson air..."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Dancer
Guild:
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Post by Blue on Nov 25, 2014 3:32:27 GMT
we must be K I L L E R S CHILDREN OF THE WILD ONES Day 1: Hour 3
Stroke. Stroke. Stroke.
Row row row your brush, gently down the canvas~ Merrily merrily merrily merrily, Paint is but dream~
Yeah, Not even Blue was sure where that came from. She had been doing this for how long now? It must have been about hour three into her work at this point. That's when the brain usually begins to go weird, trying to compensate for all the energy being focused into the painting. The human brain isn't designed to be stationary like that you know. Or is it? Blue was an artist, not a neurologist, how the hell could she know? Weird lyrics and body language started to spring up in her demeanor as she started painting the light sources for her subject. The feeling of her leg bobbing up and down rapidly told her that a break would be needed soon or her body might rebel against her. What a pain. She bit her lip, the desire to get up and go buy some coffee or a cup of tea rising within her. She couldn't leave though, not yet. This was an endurance test of sorts. Leaving now would be to concede defeat to her subject. If she left now, she might miss a beautiful detail to her painting and her work would suffer for it. That would be the greatest sin.
"Just... need... to power through it." The painter spoke for the first time, rubbing her left eye as it began to droop. Her energy was draining away like gas leaking from a punctured tank. Could she keep going like this? Blue liked to think so. She was a tough girl, despite appearances. Once the pinkette put her mind to something, there was no chance of her relenting. This painting would be done without rest by god, and she would see it happen come hell or high heaven. What a dedicated artist she was. WHERE WE GOT LEFT TO R U N ?
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"Blue blue glass moon amongst the crimson air..."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Dancer
Guild:
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Post by Blue on Nov 26, 2014 4:52:38 GMT
we must be K I L L E R S CHILDREN OF THE WILD ONES Day 1: Hour 4
Muuuuhhh....
The painting was coming along slowly. You could look at the canvas and recognize the shapes on it as actual people and buildings. That however, was not something to warrant the groaning sounds of defeat that were escaping the master of the brush. Blue leaned back in her chair, a small detail brush between her teeth as she looked at her work with tired eyes. She had gotten up way too early for this. There was no stopping the juggernaut assailant known as exhaustion. The pinkette remained crumpled in her chair, unable to lift a hand to even wipe the sweat from her brow as the morning sun shined down on her.
"Umm... Excuse me, miss?" "Uh?" Blue looked up with dead eyes. "H-here. You look like you've been working hard, please take this."
A person of the land, a once NPC now human denizen of a new world just like Adventurers. The only distinction now was that Landers as people called them had lived here much longer than Adventurers. This one, a timid looking old man, handed out an odd looking drink to Mira, who had to push all her will into accepting it. She looked at him strangely, unsure what to think of a man who casually handed out beverages to young women in the middle of the day. Would it be rude to turn him down? Or would it be sensible? Old world values conflicted with new ones as she pondered this, not realizing that her body had moved on its own, taking part in the cool liquid.
"This... taste... is this..!"
The pinkette looked up at old man with wide eyes, not out of surprise but tingling with the sensation of energy that could only be found in caffeine. Where did this man get such a-- no. It wasn't her place to ask. She just assumed that some adventurer had replicated the effect and shared the recipe with everyone. She had never familiarized herself with brewmaster circles. She looked to her savior of an old man with renewed energy, sipping at her drink in tandem. "Thank you so much sir!" She beamed to him. The old man wasn't quite prepared for the sudden change but he simply smiled and walked off, complimenting her work as he did. The quest to paint started fresh yet again. WHERE WE GOT LEFT TO R U N ?
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"Blue blue glass moon amongst the crimson air..."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Dancer
Guild:
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Post by Blue on Jan 2, 2015 2:58:49 GMT
we must be K I L L E R S CHILDREN OF THE WILD ONES Day 1: Hour 5
Craft level 6 is fine too. That's what the writer said as he looked over this thread yet again and sighed in frustration. Honestly, it's not that it was a bad thread, he just found long winded threads about the same activity to be rather dull. So we've settled with this post as the finisher. Maybe some research threads can be done later to make more interesting crafts. Until then however, the best Blue the writer and Blue the artisan could do was to finish off this thread, claim the craft, and rake in the AP. So without further ado, we bring you the conclusion to a study on life.
The bard gave a sigh of resignation as the hours ticked on by. There was so much detail in her painting now that adding any more would unbalance the composition and ruin all of her hard work up to now. It was an irksome predicament. There was so much more she could do with this work but the piece itself just couldn't take any more. She would have to return to this work later with some fresh new ideas. It wasn't to say that the painting was bad. It was complete; A professional work of art that would stand to draw the eye of any entrepreneur. The only flaw was it's inability to challenge Blue's work ethic as a painter. If she wanted, Blue could sit for eight hours straight and create something of the same quality without any real trouble on her part. The bard needed something more from this. She needed a challenge.
"Well... I suppose that'll be next time." The girl muttered to herself, picking up her supplies and packing them tightly into a carrying case. The painting was probably dry enough to carry on her back to the workshop if she was careful. Beams of light shined down on the entire plaza. It was still only mid day after all. Time seemed to have gone slower that the young woman had anticipated. No matter though. There was always something to do in bustling Londinium. Maybe she'd go find that Lander with the coffee and see where he got it from. She needed a source of caffeine after all, otherwise the world would cease to stand still for her.
When she got to the make-shift workshop she called her home, Blue was almost surprised to see how clean it was. Must have been because she was out all day. Normally after a long day of work, the workshop would be in shambles. The residue of paint and chipped stone would litter the floor and waste products would sit for hours without being addressed until Blue finally decided that they had to go. It was a rare sight. A pleasant one too. The girl smiled quietly to herself, setting her equipment on a table to the side and pulling out the painting. She had just the place to hang this up.
The new work of art titles "Life and Resurrection" sat silently against the old wall of her workshop next to other works. Blue admired her work quietly, letting go of her desire to add more to it. It was a job well done as it was. Better to cut her losses and see what else needed to be done. Hell, it might be the painting that nets her a good deal with some random art dealer. Ha. Good one. Well, off to finish the day. Blue nodded to herself and turned on her heel. Out the door, and into the sun. There were sights to see, people to tease, and adventure to be had in the great expanse of the Unfounded Kingdom. What a life to lead, yeah? WHERE WE GOT LEFT TO R U N ?
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