(Flashback) Pretty Colors (Solo)

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Home of the Konti people, this ivory city is built of native konti stone half in and half out of the sea. Its borders touch the Silverwood, and stretch upwards towards Silver Lake, home of the infamous konti vision water. [Lore]

(Flashback) Pretty Colors (Solo)

Postby Blythe on February 26th, 2011, 4:21 am

33 Summer, 473 AV

Blythe was standing on top of a wooden chair, over the kitchen table. She wasn't yet tall enough to reach the top of the table without standing on one, and she still needed help climbing onto the top of the chair at times. Her grandmother was sitting in the chair next to her, smiling up at her granddaughter. This was the only time Blythe could remember actually being taller than her. It made her feel like a giant, and filled her stomach with a tingly feeling. It made it feel as though she were filled with butterflies that were fluttering up her chest, through her neck, and out of her mouth. Blythe smiled, her mouth stretching from ear to ear as she exclaimed, "looky grandma! I'm finally taller than everybody!"

Rose laughed, a shy smile crept across her face, and caused tiny lines to etch around her lips, and her wise eyes. Crow's feet. "Well look at you! Taller than me already!" she laughed, her voice soft and smooth.

Blythe giggled again as she smiled down at her grandmother. There was a single sheet of pale white paper atop of the kitchen table. It was surrounded by several small tubes of paint. Each of the tubes was white, although it had a thin strip of color, and colored cap, which signified the color of the paint the tube held. There were nine tubes in all. One was a bright red, another orange, another a pale yellow. There was also a bright green, deep midnight blue, black, white, and royal purple color.

"So I can use any color I want?" Blythe asked her grandmother, as she surveyed all the things she had at her disposal.

"Anything you want Blythe," her grandmother replied. "You could use all of them too, if you'd like. It's all up to you."

"All of them?" Blythe whispered, her eyes lighting up, as though a candle had been ignited beneath them. She definitely wanted to use all of them. The colors were simply too beautiful to be ignored. Except the white, the white one was pretty boring. So maybe not the white one, Blythe thought as she extended her right hand to the tube containing the pale yellow paint. Her fingers seemed to be twitching with anticipation as she inched her hand closer and closer.

Finally, she felt the cold tube beneath her fingertips. The paint was within her grasp, Blythe thought, as she wrapped her fingers around the tube. It seemed to squish into her fingers, the tube of paint seemed almost as malleable as clay. Blythe slowly inched it closer to her face, and held it right before her lavender eyes. She smiled as the tube of paint hovered before her nose, causing her to go slightly cross-eyed. It was all hers, she thought, as she raised her free hand and turned the cap counter-clockwise. Eventually, the top came off, and fell from her hands. It crashed into the kitchen floor, landing with a low clacking noise. It rolled across the floor, to the other side of the table. Blythe didn't bother to hop off her chair so that she could go and pick it up.

Blythe pinched the tube between her fingertips, causing a thin line of pale yellow paint to spill out of the top, and trickle down the side like lava from a volcano. She smiled. The action had made her feel strangely powerful. She lowered her hand and wiped the yellow paint on the top left hand corner of the paper. Then, she put the tube back down on the table, and picked up the black tube. She unscrewed the cap, and held the tube over the paper so that the open end was facing the paper. She squeezed the tube between her fingertips, and a steady stream of black paint erupted from the tube. It rained down onto the center of the paper, landing with a muffled thud, and spilling out around the initial blob of paint. When she felt she had had enough of that color, Blythe flipped the tube over, put the cap back on it, and put the tube back. She then reached for the royal purple tube, opened it, and squeezed a small portion onto the paper next to the black paint. She put the purple back when she was done, and reached for the midnight blue last. She dabbed a small blob of paint into the lower-left hand corner of the paper, and then returned the blue tube to the others. They seemed like such a happy family, Blythe thought. She wouldn't want to separate them.

When she had put the paint down, Blythe stopped what she was doing for a moment. She stood back and surveyed her work. Even though she had wanted to use all the colors, except white, of course, she found that the ones she had used already were more than enough. Perhaps she'd use the other ones some other time, she thought.
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Blythe
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(Flashback) Pretty Colors (Solo)

Postby Blythe on February 26th, 2011, 3:19 pm

Blythe bit her bottom lip lightly as her eyes grew wide with anticipation. She rolled up her sleeves, past her elbows, so that they wouldn't get in the way of her work. She knew her mother would scold her if her sleeves dragged along the paper and she picked up some paint along the way. After all, her mother had only just washed the dress Blythe was wearing yesterday, and should expect its cleanliness to last until at least the end of the week. Blythe couldn't understand why. It wasn't as though there was ever a shortage of water on the Island. That, and she was only five, how could her mother expect her to be as neat as an adult?

As soon as she had rolled up her sleeves, Blythe got to work. She reached for the top left-hand corner of the paper and pushed the tips of her fingers into the yellow paint. The paint rose, and then crashed around the areas that Blythe pushed into. It filled the tiny spaces between her fingernails and her flesh. It tickled her skin, and caused it to become cold to the touch. The scent of fresh paint floated up to her nostrils, and swirled around inside her nose. Not liking the smell of paint, Blythe's nose scrunched unpleasantly as she continued to press her fingers into the yellow and wiped it around the top corner of the page. She swirled the paint around and around, so that it made a circle. The circle was about four inches high, and another three inches wide, and was generally uneven. A large whirling line was visible in the middle, marking the pattern Blythe's fingertips had made upon the paper. Only trace amounts of yellow paint could be seen in that area, allowing the underlying white paper to shine through the already pale yellow paint. But Blythe didn't really care, she found it rather pretty in its own special kind of way.

When she had finished with the yellow, Blythe moved her hands over to the lower left-hand corner of the paper. Her fingertips were dripping yellow rain down upon the paper. It landed in tiny splotches, a thin, wavy line that stretched from the yellow over to the blue, signifying the pattern of her movement. Without hesitating too long over the blue paint, however, Blythe dug her nails into it. Pale yellow and midnight blue combined in a squishy blob of paint, that molded itself around Blythe's tiny fingers. Thin streaks of yellow shone over the blue, like the sun rising out of the night sky. But the yellow was soon lost in the darkness as Blythe pushed the paint to the right with the tips of her fingers. Forming four separate blue lines that seemed to start at the source of the paint, and then die off in portions as they stretched to the other side of the paper. It was as though the blob of paint she had started with was a comet, and the lines she had made demonstrated how quickly it was shooting through the sky. Or in this case, across Blythe's paper.

As soon as she was done stretching the blue paint over her canvas, Blythe's hands traveled to the middle of her paper, where the black and purple paint blobs were waiting for her. She had used up so much of the blue paint, that none of it dripped from the tips of her fingers, although a small portion still lined each of her hands. It was drying rather rapidly, and at times, when she flexed the joints in her fingers, the paint would crack. None of the cracked paint ever fell from her fingers however.
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(Flashback) Pretty Colors (Solo)

Postby Blythe on February 27th, 2011, 3:18 pm

As soon as her hands hovered over the black and purple paint, Blythe plunged her fingers downwards and into the paint, like a seagull diving for a clam. The paint squished around her fingers, and a few splotches flew out from the sides of her hands, while another larger portion was merely displaced by her finger's presence. Blythe swirled the paint around and around the center of the paper, just as the sound of the front door opening and a fresh set of muffled footsteps echoed its way through the cottage.

Within a few moments, Blythe found Brair standing at the doorway to the kitchen. Her dress clung to her skin, and her hair was soaking wet. Tiny beads of water were dripping down the sides of the skin, on her clothing, and onto the floor. Her emerald eyes seemed wide, although the rest of her body seemed relaxed, despite its being cold. It was barely noticeable, but Briar was shivering. Perhaps she had spent too much time in the water, and not enough time drying off, Blythe thought, as she continued to streak the paint across the center of the page.

"How was your swim?" Rose asked.

"Fine grandma, what are the two of you doing?" Briar asked.

"Finger painting Briar! Come join me!" Blythe giggled as some of the paint squished into the webbing between her fingers. It was cold, and tickled her. Blythe couldn't help but smile.

"Finger painting?" Briar said, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Yeah, it's so much fun!" Blythe giggled.

"Finger painting is for babies," Briar replied.

"No it's not!" Blythe cried, as she raised her hands and then shook them, splattering purple and black paint all over the paper. She was so upset with her sister.

"Is too!" Briar cried.

"Is not!" Blythe shot back.

"Yah-huh!" Briar shouted.

"Na-huh!" Blythe shouted back.

"Girls!" Rose shouted. Each of them shut up and looked at their grandmother. Slightly stunned, and waiting to hear what she had to say. "Briar, be nice to your sister!"

"Yeah, grandma said to be nice Briar!" Blythe said as she pulled her fingers out of the paint, and stuck her hands on her hips. She bent at the waist a bit, and then stuck her tongue out at her sister.

"And Blythe," Rose began. Instantly, Blythe's tongue returned to her mouth, and her arms dropped to her sides.

"Yes grandma?" Blythe asked.

"Don't you stick your tongue out at your sister again," Rose replied.

"Yes grandma," Blythe said, defeated. Just as Briar stuck her tongue out at her while their grandmother wasn't looking. Stupid Briar. Blythe thought. She had never liked her much. She was no where near as nice as her other sisters. She wouldn't bother tattling on her though, for sticking her tongue out at her. Unlike some people, Blythe wasn't a tattle-tail.

"So do you want to finger paint with me?" Blythe asked as sweetly as she could. Briar shook her head. "But you did last week."

"Nah-uh," Briar replied. "Yes!" Blythe cried. "You didn't think it was for babies last week!"

"Girls!" Rose called. Both of them shut up instantly. Then Briar rolled her eyes, and stomped off down the hall to her room.

Blythe sighed. "Lookie grandma, I finished," she said, rather unenthusiastically. She held the picture up, but all it seemed to be were a bunch of blobs of paint. The paint was drying now, causing the paper to curl and crinkle. But it didn't matter, to Blythe, it was a beautiful masterpiece.

"Very pretty," Rose said. Blythe smiled. "Thank you grandma."

OOCBriar is officially Blythe's least favorite sibling. Stupid Briar. *Mumble Mumble Mumble*
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(Flashback) Pretty Colors (Solo)

Postby Alice on March 6th, 2011, 3:51 pm

Image

Blythe

Experience: 3 Painting
Lores: Painting with Fingers, Quarreling with One’s Sister, Grandma Rose as Peacemaker

Comments

That’s a nice little thread! I believe your writing has become more descriptive, especially in the first two posts. I tried not to give too many not-so-important lores this time, and I hope you’re okay with what you got. Regarding the paint tubes though, I’m not sure whether Mizaharians would really use those. Most painters mix what colors they need directly before starting to paint and only store the ingredients. Of course, a child wouldn’t know how to do it; that’s just for your information!
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