Preparing for battle - Markas Virnala
Jun 15, 2020 21:39:09 GMT
andycd, Sunday, and 7 more like this
Post by Markas Virnala on Jun 15, 2020 21:39:09 GMT
Afternoon 27th Mirtul 1497
The Thunder was getting louder now. It reverberated and shook the ground under him as he watched the roiling storm turn over itself, flashes of lightning painting black shadows across the walls of the room.
Markas wasn’t sure why, maybe it was anxiety from the coming conflict stirring things up. Who knows what they would be walking into if they do go through that portal, or what everyone else is going to be facing for that matter.
In any-case, he would need to do something about this internal tempest soon. He couldn’t focus properly with it growing so wild, too much energy being allowed to run free and chaotically.
It’s as he thinks this, a second thought comes to mind; What if he gave it some direction instead?
In any case, he wasn’t going to get any meditation done today. And with everyone meeting tomorrow, he needed to find something productive to do…
With a flick of the wrist, a long smear of crimson soaks the board, the thick liquid bleeding into the wide grain of the cheap wood.
“”So, an important thing to remember here, to make sure you keep the colours bright and crisp, is that you need to wash your brushes regularly. Otherwise, it can start to look a little muddy… Like this here, you can see the Red is really vibrant still!”
Since his usual meditation wasn’t an option, Markas decided to do something good with the small amount of time he had, finding his way to The Orphanage and teaching the children to paint. There had been some confusion when he arrived about the particular timing of an arts and crafts lesson but his insistence and cheerful demeanour seemed to have been enough to befuddle his way in at least.
Markas turns to the room of upturned faces, a mix of paint smears, apprehension, confusion…. And maybe some genuine interest in a few. Thankfully it looked like they had at least taken in his advice and were well on their way to creating some pretty good paintings themselves. One in particular at the back of the makeshift class maybe needed some work with the proportions but he had to admit, it was a lot better than anything he painted at that age. Or today for the matter.
..
“But what IS it?” a small voice from the back calls out.
“Well….”, He looks back at his board... It really wasn’t his best work. He had started by trying to paint a sunset which had not proven to be very successful. Combined with getting distracted and caught up in his explanations of techniques, it was looking a bit of a mess now.
Unperturbed, Markas turns back to the class, “... I don’t know! But that’s ok. What matters here is we’re having fun!”
The Thunder was getting louder now. It reverberated and shook the ground under him as he watched the roiling storm turn over itself, flashes of lightning painting black shadows across the walls of the room.
Markas wasn’t sure why, maybe it was anxiety from the coming conflict stirring things up. Who knows what they would be walking into if they do go through that portal, or what everyone else is going to be facing for that matter.
In any-case, he would need to do something about this internal tempest soon. He couldn’t focus properly with it growing so wild, too much energy being allowed to run free and chaotically.
It’s as he thinks this, a second thought comes to mind; What if he gave it some direction instead?
In any case, he wasn’t going to get any meditation done today. And with everyone meeting tomorrow, he needed to find something productive to do…
***
With a flick of the wrist, a long smear of crimson soaks the board, the thick liquid bleeding into the wide grain of the cheap wood.
“”So, an important thing to remember here, to make sure you keep the colours bright and crisp, is that you need to wash your brushes regularly. Otherwise, it can start to look a little muddy… Like this here, you can see the Red is really vibrant still!”
Since his usual meditation wasn’t an option, Markas decided to do something good with the small amount of time he had, finding his way to The Orphanage and teaching the children to paint. There had been some confusion when he arrived about the particular timing of an arts and crafts lesson but his insistence and cheerful demeanour seemed to have been enough to befuddle his way in at least.
Markas turns to the room of upturned faces, a mix of paint smears, apprehension, confusion…. And maybe some genuine interest in a few. Thankfully it looked like they had at least taken in his advice and were well on their way to creating some pretty good paintings themselves. One in particular at the back of the makeshift class maybe needed some work with the proportions but he had to admit, it was a lot better than anything he painted at that age. Or today for the matter.
..
“But what IS it?” a small voice from the back calls out.
“Well….”, He looks back at his board... It really wasn’t his best work. He had started by trying to paint a sunset which had not proven to be very successful. Combined with getting distracted and caught up in his explanations of techniques, it was looking a bit of a mess now.
Unperturbed, Markas turns back to the class, “... I don’t know! But that’s ok. What matters here is we’re having fun!”
