An Unromantic Exercise (Selfmod Training, Jaeden)

[Aneira Haimati]

1st of Spring, 510 AV Location: Traveler's Row [Purpose: Painting Practice/Training] Aneira had met Tilia on one of her many winter escapades to the Great Bazaar. Diminutive and plump, Tilia barely cleared the counter behind which her artwork was displayed, and might've been easy to miss completely if it weren't for the brilliance of her wildfire hair. Charmed instantly, Aneira had lingered at Tilia's stand more than a handful of times, fussing over the paintings and begging the woman's advice on technique and inspiration. There was an easy rapport between the two creative minds, and Tilia was quick to offer a few lessons in painting to Aneira, come Spring. The cobblestones were warm with the late-day sun as Aneira arrived at Traveler's Row. Tilia ushered her into a quaint two-room apartment, the majority of which had been cleared for use as a working space. An easel was propped near the largest window, catching the muted rays of spring light onto a blank, stretched canvas. There was the sharp, promising scent of paint, and colorful evidence of it smudged nearly everywhere. "So," Tilia began, fluttering about behind Aneira and slipping an apron over the girl's head. "You have a basic grasp on mixing your palette and handling your brush, my dear?" "Yes, Miss Tilia. Enough to get me by for a basic wash over my masks. I usually supplement that with a mishmash of other decoration: fabrics, gems... and the result is pretty enough, but it's holding me back." Aneira watched as her instructor sorted through brushes, selected three, and lined them up on the table beside her. "It's limiting my visions. I want to work with layers of paint, create texture, pattern..." Tilia nodded, and picked up the palette she had prepared. Her rich, chocolate eyes were quick and calculating, expertly considering and then approving the hues she had chosen, before she offered the palette to Aneira. "All right, deary-dear, we'll get you there. Let's start with a basic exercise so that Miss Tilia can see what you've got already. Let's..." she pursed her lips, staring at Aneira with that immensely friendly sort of scrutiny, in that funny way she had. "Let's do a graded wash, yes? Then Miss Tilia can see your control with the brush and the water." She picked up a brush with, Aneira noted, a thoughtlessly expert grasp. "Choose a color, and begin with only the slightest bit of water to your paint," she continued, dipping into a jar of water, and then mixing a puddle of diluted paint. "Let's try red, and..." With one long, solid stroke, she placed an intense line of red across the top of the canvas, from left to right. "And continue the motion quickly." Gracefully, Tilia dabbed off the brush, dipped it again, and then began just beneath the first stroke, overlapping in a thick, solid line that blended dark into light, right from left. "Let the paint and water do their work, but manipulate them. You continue." She handed the brush to Aneira. Aneira caught the bead of paint from beneath Tilia's last stroke, and spread the color across with her own. Smooth, silk, bleeding red. "Exactly. Flowing, without stopping, letting your hand and the paint move naturally," Tilia encouraged. As Aneira continued, adding more water gradually, each stroke fading lighter and lighter nearly to pink, Tilia observed and made small corrections. "Yes, as I thought, you already have quite wonderful control. A natural at that. It is not a romantic exercise, I know, but you can't get romantic about painting without knowing how to use your hands first." Tilia's cheeks lined with a mischievous grin that had Aneira flushing in laughter.

Image CreditsPalette image by razziphotography on Deviant Art.

[Aneira Haimati]

As days passed, lessons became a bit more intense. Tilia led Aneira across the spectrum of texturing techniques, teaching her how to choose and manipulate brushes for various effects, and how to apply water to a canvas before paint and experiment with the results. Aneira learned to be looser with her hand and her visions. Walls of fear, built so as to avoid making mistakes and falling short of her expectations, gave way to a vibrant imagination. The more risks she took, the more she learned. She opened her mind to the possibilities and let the normal things around her stir up her inspiration. An old pocket knife could be used to scrape delicate texture into a canvas of trees. A ragged piece of lace could be painted and stamped to mimic layers upon layers of autumn leaves. As she pushed herself to defy conventional methods, Aneira found her mind infused with more ideas than ever before. Her hands got dirty. Her face got flecked with paint. Some days, her hair was less its deep black than it was every other color of the palette that had landed there, somehow. But she learned to be less careful and to think a bit less. She learned to make fewer plans, and to simply follow her creative instincts and spontaneous urges. One day, as Aneira was cleaning up after a particularly adventurous lesson, Tilia watched her with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Tomorrow," Tilia said, "we'll be doing something... different. Something more difficult." Aneira looked up from the wash basin, though she continued to scrub her fingernails. Threads of purple and blue paint swirled together, tinting the water. "Difficult, I expected. Different... that's good. But why do you look so smug about it?" "Painting a still life is challenging. To approach your subject with the same eye each day, and to be sure the light is always correct. Much learning and patience takes place as you paint one single subject, rather than moving from one painting to the other quickly, much as we have done so far." Tilia's pedantic tone gave way to giggles, and her ruddy cheeks glowed. "I wouldn't have thought a still life could be such a bubbly topic, Miss Tilia. Fruits or pots, vases, plants... all interesting, but not exactly things to inspire hilarity." Aneira couldn't help but laugh as she dried her hands. "What's your secret? I can tell you're being sneaky about something..." As she continued cleaning up, rinsing brushes beneath water, she shook her head at Tilia, genuinely amused. "It's a surprise, deary. You'll see tomorrow." Tilia clapped her hands once, her eyes flashing. "But one thing's no secret: I can't wait!"

Image CreditsLeaves Watercolour Study by animeyumichan on Deviant Art.

[Jaeden Kincade]

It was a warm morning in the city, but not so much that one would be drenched in sweat just from walking around. Jaeden had left his gear behind back at his room he had been renting for the week and was planning to do some trading in the Bazaar. Having spent the day at the Bathhouse, he was now quite squeaky clean and refreshed, his spirits still raised. He was dressed in a simple pair of brown pants that fit casually over his lower form and a pair of black shin high leather boots. A white long sleeve shirt hung loosely over his body, the cut in the front revealing a thin chain silver necklace that rested lightly over his chest. It was in his travels that he had met a woman who had made a recommendation to him the previous day and handed him a small sheet of paper giving him directions. As Jaeden stared up at a blank door, he looked around for a bit, as if exploring whether or not he was in the right place. "Odd, there are no signs or emblems that would suggest this to be a place of business," Jaeden muttered under his breath as he looked down to the piece of paper, raising his free hand to scratch his head slightly. "I'm sure I followed the directions correctly though." Jaeden peered around, watching as people passed him by. His initial demeanor caused him to remain silent, hoping one of them would simply stop and ask if he needed help. After a short time, when none did, he simply looked to the door, letting out a small sigh. "Well, she did say that the place was a little out of the way," Jaeden then said before slipping the piece of paper into a small pouch that hung from his belt. Jaeden then slowly extended a hand, wrapping his knuckles along the surface of the door before his other hand reached to the doors handle. Pushing the door open, Jaeden slowly stepped inside, peering around to see a somewhat empty room save for various canvas' and paints. "Hello," Jaeden called out in a calm and light voice as he looked around for anyone else who might have been around.

[Aneira Haimati]

Pale light slanted in through the room's massive window. It was thrown open, letting warm spring air filter in. The canvases were blank, the brushes were fresh, and the scene was set. Across the room, a single chair sat, draped with a night blue cloth. It simply waited. Female voices rose up from the adjoining room; floated into the larger chamber. The echo of laughter had only just dissipated when its source walked in from the other room. Aneira was fair-skinned and slight, wrapped in a thin dress and cloaked in dark hair. And she was gaping. Trailing behind her came a large, white-furred dog, who nudged at her hand impatiently; and then Tilia, who wore a delighted grin and an apron. She was even shorter, and peered over Aneira's shoulder at Jaeden, eyes flashing wickedly. She seemed to enjoy every second in that long, bewildering pause, and simply watched the silent exchange between her two unsuspecting guests. A curtain flicked in the breeze, twisted and billowed. Outside, a trio of birds landed on a branch, twittering brightly. "Oh, goodness," Tilia finally chirped, swooping around to pull Jaeden in and shut the door. "Don't look so confused, you two." Aneira caught hold of herself, snapping the "O" of her mouth shut and shifting her feet. "You didn't tell me we'd have another student today, Miss Tilia." She had a feeling she knew exactly what was going on, but she had decided to deny it in the hopes that it would go away. There was no way, absolutely no way, that she was going to paint a male model. It was awkward. It was embarrassing. And it was an exercise encompassing far more knowledge than she needed to learn. She was a painter of masks, for goodness sake, not a painter of... of... "The male figure," declared Tilia. "Ah! It can teach us so much. So intricate, so graceful, so..." She gave a tug on Jaeden's low-cut shirt, exposing even more of his chest. "Muscular. And yet," she lowered her voice, gesturing to Aneira, "it is a very difficult subject." Aneira nodded a slow, reluctant agreement. "Difficult. I imagine so." She averted her eyes, suddenly quite interested in examining the sharpness of the charcoal pencils she was carrying. "Don't fret, deary." Tilia clapped once, in her increasingly irritating way. Breezily, she flitted from chair to canvas back to chair, fussing and tweaking over her setup. Satisfied, she winked at Jaeden. "Now, you. Come, sit, and make yourself comfortable, what do you say?"

[Jaeden Kincade]

Jaeden raised a hand, his index finger extended as he looked between both Tilia and Aneria. "But this was....? You said.........? Shop, items, purchase!" Jaeden began throwing an accusatory finger at Tilia. "You tricked me!" Jaeden paced back and forth within the room. "I came to buy the 'unique' items you said were at this fabled shop and I find all you want me to do is stand and pose?" Jaeden then noticed Tilia motioning to the chair. "Oh, sorry. All you want me to do is sit and pose?" Jaeden suddenly brought his hands together across his chest before swinging them outwardly. "No, no, no, no!" Jaeden argued before his arms hung at his sides, his gaze shooting up towards the ceiling in contemplation before he finally exhaled. "Fine." Jaeden then walked across the room towards the chair, slipping off his shirt without even having to be asked to reveal the lean musculature beneath. Tossing the shirt towards Tilia for her to hold onto, he then paused looking at her as she observed the shirt. "That's not a souvenir," he said clearly before looking over to Aneria and asking, "So then, what shall it be?" "Like this?" Jaeden said as he sat in the "Thinker" pose before standing up once again. "How about this?" Jaeden said before raising his arms towards the air, flexing them as acting and if he were reaching for something heavenly. Jaeden then leaned down after Tilia tapped him along his shoulder, listening to a short whisper she gave to his ear. He then stared blankly at her and said, "How about if we let her decide if she wants to paint me in nothing but a bed sheet hanging precariously low?"

[Aneira Haimati]

"Oh, no, you don't!" Aneira jabbed the pencil she held in Tilia's direction, pointing. Then, swiveleing her accusing gaze and pencil toward Jaeden, she shook her head. "And oh, no, I don't!" When neither answered, and both simply stared, Aneira felt a flush creeping into her cheeks. Had she overreacted? Had she scared them? Were they both, at this moment, realizing how mistaken they had been in expecting her to paint a naked man without blinking an eyelash? "Um," Aneira fumbled, rubbing her lips together as if considering her next words more carefully. Think with your brain, Ani, she urged herself. The man, whoever he was, had a brilliant physique. He had already settled quite comfortably into the idea that he would be posing. She had been lucky enough to land lessons with a genius of a painter, and said genius had deemed it an opportunity for growth if Aneira completed a figure study. Considering how difficult a figure study was, Tilia must have seen a lot of promise in Aneira. So, shouldn't she be flattered? Shouldn't she just take a breath and go with it? "All right," she finally breathed. "I will paint him. Or try. But..." Taking a few slow steps toward the canvas, she eyed the man who was to be her subject. Her eyes swam ruby-red as she noticed his fingers at the ready on his belt. "If you could just leave your pants on, I think it'd be just as well - " A sharp look from Tilia cut Aneira off mid-sentence, and she smoothly steered into a revision. "Come to think of it, you can take them off, but...how about just posing in profile? That way, I don't have to be concerned about painting things I'd rather not." She bit her tongue, determined not to laugh. "And, ah... yes, wear the bedsheet, too."

[Jaeden Kincade]

“You want me to take my pants off!” Jaeden suddenly said, his voice raising in volume. “Why I, I……………… fine.” Jaeden then suddenly looked around for the bed sheet he was to be wrapped in. A subtle turn of his head suddenly found Tilia already standing there with one in hand. He grabbed the bed sheet, and draped it over his shoulders like a long cloak as it covered his whole form from the shoulders down. Eventually his boots were kicked off as they came flying out from under the bed sheet. A light clinking sound would then be heard, signaling the unbuckling of his belt until a dull thud could be heard along the floor before his pants were kicked out from underneath the sheet. Jaeden slowly looked around the room before his gaze fell to Tilia. “If you have others in here, you should charge them admission if they’re not painting,” Jaeden noted as the bed sheet was slowly lowered down. It’s edges slid along his skin, getting hung up along the curves of his muscles along the way for short moments. His right hand then subtly pressed the sheet along his lower abdomen, as it hung lazily over his left leg. His butt and right leg becoming fully exposed. Jaeden then slowly looked over to Tilia’s student as she stood behind the canvas, getting ready as she began mixing paints, that dull smell of oil lingering in the air. “I’m Jaeden Kincade, by the way. I never did catch your name.” Jaeden said as he slowly stepped forward, offering his right hand in greeting. As Jaeden attempted this friendly gesture, it dawned on him too late that the hand he offered was the very hand the held up the bed sheet. It slowly glided to the floor, leaving Jaeden totally exposed as he paused in his step, blinking a couple of times remaining completely silent. “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh this is awkward,” Jaeden finally said as his hand slapped lightly against his brow.

[Aneira Haimati]

Aneira saw it as if in slow motion. Jaeden, rising to introduce himself, belatedly. The slide of that too-thin bedsheet down the long, muscled lengths of his stomach. The tremor in his hand, and the moment when he let the sheet slip, unveiling just about everything. "Oh!" She faltered, mid-handshake, dropping her pencil on the floor. Sinking down to retrieve it seemed to be a reasonable way to avoid looking at Jaeden's complete nudity. Except that it put her on eye-level with it. The moment she realized this, she became several degrees more flustered, inadvertently kicking her pencil and sending it skittering across the floor. Without actually looking up, she spun around and hid behind her easel, abandoning the pencil where it lay behind Jaeden's chair. She heard his nervous laughter, and Tilia's footsteps as she shuffled across to pick up the pencil. She stood there, staring at the blank canvas, unable to pull herself together and fully aware of the fact that she looked quite silly. In the rough, grainy particles of the canvas, she was certain she could see the coalescing image of Jaeden, full-frontal. And she wondered whether she would be able to get around that distraction, when she actually begain to paint him. When Tilia slipped the pencil back into Aneira's hand, she also shared with her a gentle wink. "Well, he's only a man, deary-dear. Shall we get to it, now?" "Yes." Aneira turned to her table, tried to make sense of the palette there. It seemed she had prepared it well enough, though at this foggy point in time she couldn't remember doing so. "Now, I know you don't see the point in doing a figure study, for your purposes, Aneira. But it is important, as it forces you to look differently at the human form. You become painfully aware of proportion - which, as it happens, is what I want you to focus on." Tilia hovered aside of her student with an encouraging smile. She gestured, twice, toward Jaeden, when Aneira didn't respond. "Go ahead and look, please." When Aneira finally dared to peek around the easel, Jaeden was back in place. Every bit of him. And he was covered, however scantily. "Focus," Tilia continued, "on sketching proportions. Don't worry about the details. Leave that for the paint. With the pencil, you're aiming for a blueprint. Sketch his eyes, his limbs, his vague shape. Get the essentials down, so that the painting part will flow naturally when it's time. For now, don't think about colors or shadows. Don't worry about perfection." It took a moment to adjust, but as Aneira began to study Jaeden, the flush in her cheeks cooled. Quickly, she found a rhythm, and he became her subject. It didn't feel odd to follow the strong curve of his spine, the long muscles of his thighs, first with her eyes, and then with her pencil on the paper. Meeting his eyes was comfortable; interesting. She found herself wondering about him as she drew. He had a remarkably straight, sharp nose. His brow was strong, but not overly so. Full lips, for a man. Every feature seemed perfectly proportionate. It was strange, to study a person so intricately, and yet to know nothing about who they really were. Was it appropriate to chat while she drew? Would it just distract? She didn't know, but she felt questions welling up in her throat, suddenly curious about the beautiful figure before her. "Jaeden, yes?" Her eyes, just now a cool, reflective grey, flicked between the man and the canvas. "I'm sorry, I didn't tell you my name, after all. It's Aneira." She worked intently as she spoke, shadowing the vague outline of his lips, lowering her gaze to his mouth and back as she went. "Where are you from? What do you do? When you're not... ah, doing this, that is." The busy flick of her wrist paused, briefly, as she laughed. It was a laugh to dissipate tension.

[Jaeden Kincade]

Jaeden slowly swatted reaching hands of other female patrons that had come in to observe, so to speak. “Oh yeah,” Jaeden said as he looked back to Aneira. “Nice to meet you Aneira. I was born in the Syliras region, though never permanently based there.” Jaeden then swiftly turned around after one of the woman pinched him along his rear. His butt now facing Aneira, a lecturing tone escaped his mouth. “It may be a complete mockery for me to say this, but would you women get yourselves under control?” Jaeden suddenly said sternly. “Wait at least until the lovely artist is finished with her work.” Jaeden then turned back around, looking to Aneira. “I’ve tended to travel a lot due to my trade, which is hunting.” Jaeden then continued, adjusting the sheet a little. “I’ve been over a good portion of the regions and back here again over the span of seven years." Jaeden then gave a slow shrug, the muscle that linked his neck to his shoulders almost becoming like a half circle in shape. “I may take a job at the Soothing Waters Bathhouse, though.“ Jaeden then said out of the blue. “It’s been brought to my attention that there are some in the city who would benefit from my employment there.”

[Aneira Haimati]

With a frown, Aneira watched Jaeden's pose marred and marred again by the fluttering of female hands around him. Where in the world had such an eager following come from? He must have attracted a following himself - though Tilia's artwork was well-known and loved, it had certainly never drawn so many customers at once, before. The difficulty she was finding in replicating the human form on canvas was only heightening her annoyance with the interruptions. This was the hardest thing she had ever attempted, inside the realm of painting. Her creativity was truly being challenged. To let go of her artistic whims just enough, to give focus to technique just enough, and to do it all for a living and breathing subject who was handsome enough to make her feel a bit flustered, was a trying thing. But with a determination to focus and refocus her vision over and again, and with a few helpful tweaks from Tilia, Aneira was overall quite pleased with what was forming on canvas before her. In regards to Jaeden's answers to her questions, she barely replied. Though it was a bit strange and perhaps somewhat rude, she was quickly swept up in the intensity of her work, and left the conversation hanging. Though nearly an hour elapsed without any words from her lips, she hardly realized that more than a few moments had passed. As she set down her pencil and began mixing her paints, she picked up the conversation as if it had only been a second ago that Jaeden had spoken to her. "The Bathhouse? A hunter? They seem to be vastly different occupations." As Aneira chose one slender brush out of a glass jar, she looked to Jaeden. Not at him - as she had been doing for the past hour - but into his eyes. Clearly, despite her long silence before, she was listening. After a moment, she turned her attention to mixing her paints. Vivid brights subdued to rich, fleshy tones, and soon her palette was ready. Carefully, with more freedom now that the skeleton of her work was done, she began to spread color on the body on paper. She began in the shadows and bled thinner layers of his flesh outward, mirroring the natural lines of his muscle with her strokes. For now, her focus narrowed. Rather than seeing his form in entirety, as she had with the pencil, now she saw his hues, shadows, and lights. It was, she thought, an incredibly new way of seeing another person.