Completed Paint Me Pretty

Kol helps his sister impress a boy.

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Taloba, home to the Myrians, is the thriving core of Falyndar. Inhabited by a fierce and savage tribe where blood sacrifices are normal and a way of life, they are untamed and proud of it. Warlike, and with their numbers growing, the Myrians are set on reclaiming what is rightfully theirs. [Lore]

Paint Me Pretty

Postby Kol on March 19th, 2014, 12:07 am

        72nd of Spring, 509 A.V.
        Flashback/Solo

        There was a small room in the Tempered Steel clan home, occupied by a young girl. Scattered around her floor lay jars and palettes of power and paints, sticks of kohl as black as night. She sat in the middle of the wreckage, sighing in frustration as she shoved away the colors in aggravation. A sword sat next to her, and she looked down into its blade, the reflection in it of a tawny girl, lean with black hair. Still filling out the body she was given, with thin brows and a fierce gaze of green eyes. She looked on hopelessly.

        No.

        The look was anger. It was determination.

        Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, ones that dragged slightly, and the adolescent perked up. She gripped her sword and looked towards the door, "Kol." The sound of walking paused for a few ticks, and then resumed towards her room. Closer.

        A brief knock sounded on her door and then it opened. Peia's brother peered in through the opening, his heavy gaze bearing down on her. She stood, pushing her shoulders back proudly. Kol noticed her power stance and returned her stare with his own level one. He didn't speak. He waited. His eyes said it all. What is it?

        Peia was young, but she knew she was female. She also knew her brother had never failed her before when she wanted his he-.... assistance. "I need you to do something for me."

        Kol continued watching her and then his attention lowered to the mess on the floor. Then to her sword. He raised an eyebrow, and Peia sighed. She looked around conspiratorially, although it was just them and she rushed to where her brother stood, struggling to pull him inside. She was still rather small and Kol had hit puberty some years ago. He was twenty, after all. She was only thirteen and a late bloomer.

        Once the door was closed behind him, Peia noticed that her brother's hair was falling out of his usually neat ponytail and his whip was hanging from the sash at his waist. He had been training and would be tired. He wouldn't be in the mood.

        "These are paints..." Peia muttered, biting her lip nervously as she cleared her throat. She was still a child. She would have to learn to be more forceful in the future, Kol decided. She was a Myrian female. Not a slave.

        Kol's voice was hard, demanding. He wanted to teach her, "Yes." He crossed his arms when his sister didn't immediately elaborate on why she called him into her room.

        Finally, she spoke up, "I need you to put war paint on me." Kol must have made a face, furrowed his brow or locked his jaw in distaste when she rushed to explain herself, 'Kol, I am training with..." she hesitated, not wanting to discuss a boy she had been sparing with and gotten a crush on, "...someone today. I want to be intimidating."

        Kol shook his head and began to turn when the shattering of glass sounded next to his head, bouncing off the wall next to him. Green paint splattered onto his cheek, and he felt shards brush against his skin, falling to the ground. Had it been anyone else, a stranger or a male, he would have skinned them. But it was his sister, his family, and he smirked. She was learning to be strong after all. To never be dismissed. To demand attention. To be Myrian.

        Kol turned, giving the girl one more shot to convince him. He did not know how to do what she asked. But he heard the need in her voice. This meant a lot to her, he decided, but he shook his head again.

        Peia took the opening, "I want to make him fear me."

        Paint wouldn't do that. That would be an illusion, it would be cheating. Kol nudged a plate of powders, running a hand over his face. He did not want to do this. "Why?" Her answer did not satisfy him. It would take a bit more than that to get him to partake in such an activity.

        His sister sighed, a flash of anger sparking up her eyes, "To win. To make him never challenge me again unless he has a death wish! To..."

        To think that you are beautiful. Kol knew her thoughts. At some point in every person's life, they had tried to impress another. Peia cared more for the approval of men than she should have, but it was youth talking and she would be training.

        "You will win?"

        "Yes." Peia's answer was sure and she was smiling. Her brother had spoken more than one word. This was a good sign. She held up her sword to show him, "There is no other option." Kol nodded in approval at her answer. Kol pulled the whip that was latched to his side and tossed it in the corner.

        He nodded.

        Peia grinned, holding up her sword, pointing the blade at her older brother's throat, "Good! If it looks bad, I'll wash it away with your blood."

        That was better.

        ---
        Myrian
        Thoughts
Last edited by Kol on May 13th, 2014, 5:35 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Paint Me Pretty

Postby Kol on March 28th, 2014, 4:52 pm

        What... is this?

        Kol lifted up one of the application brushes in his hand, staring at it with masked horror. His face was rigid, but on the inside, the brother was grimacing. He let out a deep, loud exhale, a habit the Myrian had when he was about to do something he did not want to.

        I'm going to break this. It will snap like a twig. Kol's eyes lifted to his sister who handed him one of the jars. His lip was lifting into a look of disgust, but Peia was not paying attention. She was too caught up in her excitement. Her blind faith was foolish. The girl would have had a better chance asking another one of the female siblings for help, but perhaps she was afraid they would torment her more than Kol.

        Kol was a safe option. He kept secrets. He was protective. He would not turn her away like the others.

        "Let's begin." Lips thinning into a line of concentration, Kol popped off one of the lids to a jar (a yellow color). An odor he was not familiar with wafted into the air. It was not unpleasant, but it still made his nose crinkle.

        "How do I do this?"

        All business, as usual.

        Peia blinked, a sheepish smile spreading across her lips. She shrugged innocently, making Kol narrow his eyes. Then how am I supposed to know? He glared at her and smirked dangerously.

        "Very well." If she did not have the knowledge to do it herself, then she would be subjecting herself to whatever result he ended with. Before his sister could open her mouth, Kol dipped the brush into the jar and ran it horizontally across the girl's forehead.

        A line of paint spread across her skin, thick and messy. He had used too much pressure and his sister pulled back, snapping, "Madini!" Kol ignored her swear, but was thrown off guard. He had not heard his sister use language like that, and he took a moment before attempting the application again.

        This time, he lightened his hand, noticing his sister tense, no doubt waiting for another assault to her forehead. She relaxed slightly when the stab didn't occur, and Kol held his breath as he followed his last stroke. He made a few more, spreading the liquid across her skin.

        He pulled back, raising his eyebrow. Peia was watching him and was smiling as if she held a secret. She wanted to say something but he refused to ask. Not now. Stop smiling. While Kol frowned in response, he admired his work. Or... observed it. It was... mediocre at best. The lines were not even. Some were heavy, others so thin you could see her skin underneath.

        He began to attempt to make it all a solid color, forcing himself to continue down to her cheeks and chin. She asked for this, he reminded himself.

        "What are you painting? You have not changed colors."

        "Be quiet." Kol's hand stopped, waiting for his sister to stop moving her mouth. He was trying his best and she wanted answers.

        "Tell me."

        His eyes narrowed. "Soon."

        Kol dipped the brush back into the jar, swirling it around and wiping some of the excess off on the side. The color was not right. Majority of Peia's face was painted, but he shook his head. Something was off. He scanned the room, searching for something. Orange. He needed orange paint.

        He located the jar and popped it open, dipping the same brush into the jar. He did not wipe off the previous color (he did not know he had to), and proceeded to lift it to Peia's face. He raised in eyebrow when the colors began to mix, creating a blending of the two tints. He cocked his head, staring at what he had done. That was what he was looking for. A mix. He raised the brush, scrutinizing the tip before nodding to himself.

        A happy accident.

        He tested this theory by grabbing a jar lid and flipping it open, slabbing some paint from each jar into the tiny makeshift palette. An orange yellow swirled, and he stirred them, the final color staring back at them.

        He continued to paint and ignored his sister when she pestered him for an answer. Soon.

        ---
        Myrian
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Paint Me Pretty

Postby Kol on April 10th, 2014, 4:25 pm

        "Do you want to know why I want to be painted?"

        "No." Kol's answer was honest if a little abrasive. His sister stuck out her tongue, and he pulled back, knowing that if she kept moving he would make yet another mistake. He glared at her, but she rolled her eyes.

        "I do not care what he thinks," Peia's voice rose in pitch and Kol knew she was lying. Out of all his sisters, he was closest with her, "Just so you know."

        Kol stared into her eyes, blinking slowly. She was too obvious. He looked to the side and grabbed a rag from the floor and set it in his lap. The brother said nothing, closing his eyes to tune her out and remember his final product. He wiped off away paint that was currently on his brush, cleaning the bristles while his sister continued, "He told me ugly girls are not good warriors."

        Kol froze, furrowing his brow. Did he call her ugly? A deep chuckle spilled forth. He seriously hoped his sister had pummeled the boy. "Appearance mean nothing in war."

        "Do you think I'm ugly?"

        The question threw the older sibling off guard, and he stopped fiddling with the brush, "You are barely grown." Kol did not how to properly answer this question.

        Peia looked away, and there was a moment of awkward silence before she carefully chose her next words, "Would your friends find me... pretty?"

        "I have no friends."

        "What about those men you train with?"

        "Peia."

        Kol was getting uncomfortable with this conversation and wanted her to drop it. The last thing he wanted to think about was his young sister hoping to get the attention of men. The brunette continued to press the issue, "Kol, I need to know."

        The male snapped, snatching up a jar of white paint as he did so, "They would not look twice at you." That was the wrong thing to say, and he continued painting in silence, applying the white below her nose and around her mouth. Her lips were pressed in a thin line. He had hurt her feelings.

        His voice was softer, more quiet, "You are too young... but you will be beautiful." She met his eyes and smiled.

        "Thank you."
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Paint Me Pretty

Postby Kol on May 13th, 2014, 5:32 pm

        It didn't take Kol long to finish applying the white paint, the awkward silence between the two siblings slowly fading. Peia had eased up on her line of questioning and remained still, allowing her brother to work. He didn't know what she wanted him to say. There was no way Kol was about to give his sister advice on how to break hearts. He wasn't even proficient in that sort of area and would have no idea what to talk about... unless she wanted a literal idea on how to crush the actual organ. In which case, he was sure about which one was more complicated.

        "Black." Kol pointed behind Peia where a bottle of dark paint sat. Peia looked around, reaching around and handed it to him. Her face was covered with orange and yellow hues, blended and bright. He had just finished the accent of white and was ready to wrap up this little favor. He had enough of this bonding time. It felt odd to him.

        "How does it look?"

        "Like I painted it."

        Peia laughed and Kol had begun to clean his brush again, and tilted his sister's face skyward, pushing the bottom of her chin upwards. She obliged and soon he was smearing black on the underside of her nose. Almost instantly Peia was pulling away.

        "You're getting it in my nose!" She shot him an incredulous look, and the rich sound of Kol's deep chuckle followed. Sure enough he had gotten the mixture up her nostrils and now she was unable to blow her nose until the paint dried on her face. Kol continued to laugh, a rare sound in itself. He forced himself to focus, waving her back and controlling his expression.

        "Come here." Grinning, he lightened his touch and dotted a few tiny spots along her upper lip, blowing on her face to make sure everything would be continuing to dry. He continued adding lines that varied in thickness, hoping to create a design that wasn't abominable. He tried to hide his mistakes as best he could. At last, Kol leaned back for the last time, staring at his sister for a long time. His eyes ran over her whole face, pausing at certain areas and scrutinizing them.

        Peia held her breath.

        "Done." His sister scrambled for her sword, and Kol held out his hand, "Wait." He pulled her back to her spot, and applied black accents under her eyes that ran slightly down the sides of her nose. He threw the brush down afterwards, and reached for the towel. Somehow paint had found his skin despite his meticulous care, decorating his arms with smears of color and mess.

        He nodded. Now. He tried to clean himself up as Peia reached for her weapon, knocking over bottles in the process. When she held up the shiny metal, she leaned close to see her reflection. A quiet washed over the room, and he watched as the girl turned her head left and right, taking in his work.

        "I'm a... tigress."

        "Yes."

        Kol wasn't sure what she was thinking for a long time until a bright smile beamed at him, "Why a tigress?"

        "They're strong. Agile. Deadly." Kol grunted as he pushed himself from his spot on the ground. His legs hurt from remaining still for so long, and he stretched, "And... beautiful."

        Peia knew then how lucky she had it, having Kol as a brother. He only wanted to help her better herself and was willing to put himself through something like this to make her happy. She let her eyes fall back to her sword. She wanted to say something, hug him... something. But, Myrians didn't do that, did they?

        Kol knew her thoughts, just as she knew his. Just like always. "Go train." His voice was soft but stern and he looked towards the door. Peia smiled and gave him an affectionate punch in the arm as she left, leaving Kol to stand in the memory.

        ---
        Myrian
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Paint Me Pretty

Postby Catastrophe on May 17th, 2014, 2:26 am

Image
Kol :
Skills

  • Socialization: 3 XP
  • Painting: 3 XP
  • Observation: 2 XP

Lores

  • Peia: An Adamant Sibling
  • Painting: Applying Warpaint
  • Painting: Cleaning Brushes
  • Peia: A Tigress at Heart

Loot

  • N/A



Notes :
Aww, what an amazing brother Kol is. I found this thread a joy to read. It was a good chance to see Kol's inner sibling and teacher!

If you have any questions or concerns about your grade, send me a private message!
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