ArchivedLogs:Pretty the World
| Pretty the World | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2014-02-01 (Cause I want something just a little bit louder.) |
| Location
Some art supply store, East Village | |
Once upon a time, long /before/ he was famous for being a mutant /terrorist/, Jackson enjoyed a good deal of /respectable/ reputation in the art world for other things. His use of colour, both on canvas and on /skin/; his talents in that field blossomed long before his mutation was even an inkling. It's this, perhaps, that's earned him a /friendly/ welcome here in this well-equipped crafts store, even after all his tumultous recent ordeals in the city. At the moment he's standing near the front desk, a basket over his arm, dressed brightly colourful as well. 'believe in faeries' t-shirt under a rainbow-striped hoodie, sky-blue and black mesh UFO pants, rainbowy Chuck Taylors, silvery jacket slung over his arm as he chats with the cashier about the latest stock they have in, /his/ latest projects. She points him off in the direction of the paints he wants. When he sets off towards them, he moves slowly. Stiffly, shaking peacocky blue-green-purple hair back from his face. Muttering to himself about the stupidity of running out of paint midway, Sean makes his way into the store with his scarf trailing behind him. His jacket partly unbuttoned at the top, showing the bright red of the scarf wrap standing out against the warm brown of the coat. Tight jeans are tucked into a pair of boots made for snow, though it has little tufts of white floof showing that it is also made for comfort. Snagging a basket to collect his color pallet in, he almost bumps into the brightly colored fellow on the way to the paints as well. "Whoa, sorry there." He blinks a moment, then smiles brightly as he takes in the entire look presented in front of him. "Wow, that is amazing. I don't think I could ever pull off that look, but you look like a walking rainbow spray from a waterfall." The admiration isn't feigned, unless someone can pull off excited delight ironically somehow. "Oh -- oh hi." Jackson's smile lights his face quickly, even as he backsteps to avoid being bumped into. The backstepping is stiff, too, careful and uncomfortable, but his expression is warm. "Oh wow thanks. That's kinda a little what I was goin' for. I mean winter can always use more colour, y'know? Well, /every/ time can use more colour but the cold especially. /Hi/." He switches his basket from his off-hand to his left hand so that he can offer his right out to shake. "M'Jax. Oh -- sorry m'I in your way I'm in your way aren't I? Of course I am these are the best paints. I need like all the blue and green and black I have this nighttime thing that's eating my dusky colours up." "Oh I can feel you there. But I never like how I look with so much ya know? A little splash of bright color to bring out the rest of it and it's just enough." Sean nods at that, and as Jax moves stiffly, he raises a brow. "Oh man, are you alright? Last guy I saw move like that had just had a snow mobile accident, no breaks and all, but man he was nothing but a big ball of black and blue the rest of the season." Shaking his head, he chuckles at Jax being in his way, and the color pallete. "Hopefully not /all/ the black. Like I need some of that, and like five tubes of white and a little bit of blue maybe?" he tilts his head as if trying to picture something in his head. "Yeah a little blue, trying to do a city scene and oh man the colors are soooo drab. But I mean, paint what you see right?" "I'm awesome," Jackson says brightly. "I just got like seventeen million tattoos touched up at once so I'm a little prickly everywhere but I'll be good. A little ointment, a little -- not moving much for the rest of the weekend. A little lounging around letting my husband do the cooking and corral the kids." He grins at this. "No accidents promise -- /Oh/." His knuckles scruff at the side of his head, rubbing against the strap of his eyepatch. "Oh, but there's more to it than -- oh come here come here come here." And just like that, he's tucking his hand into Sean's to tug the other man? Towards the door? Eagerly? Given that his shopping basket is still in his other hand and already laden with a few scattered items, it's probably evidence of just how much of a regular he is that the cashier just calls a mildly bemused "-- Jax?" and doesn't get alarmed at any attempted shoplifting when he is heading for the door with this. "Ah man, nice. I only have like one. But it's just outlined ya know? It was a thing a bunch of friends had gotten together to do and we left em outlined so we could marker in whatever colors we wanted when we hung out together." Sean grinned at that, figuring this fellow would appreciate that at least. "Nice having someone you love to do all that for you. I have a lady come and do the cleaning now and then, but I just order take out all the time. I just call the number and they tell me my order's on the way. Probably bad for me, but hey, worse things to do with your life right?" As he starts to get dragged towards the door, he blinks but chuckles and just follows after. "Mmm, let me guess. Colors of the city tour?" The other fellow seems far too colorful and far too stiff moving to be a threat at least so why not follow. "Oh! That's delightful." Jackson sounds genuinely delighted at the outlined marker-worthy tattoo, bouncing slightly on his toes even though he immediately looks like he regrets the bouncing decision. "An' there's somethin' nice about places that know you so well y'don't even gotta say what y'want. S'like family almost." He stops outside the door, hooking the shopping basket back into the crook of his elbow. "I am so-very too stiff for a tour so we're gonna stay right here jus' -- jus' see." He drops Sean's hand once they're back outside, the day at least milder than /some/ winter days though it's still far from warm. Cold and grey and overcast. Grey sidewalk and black asphalt and drab concrete buildings and grimy brick around. Jax tips his head back, tips his hand up, a soft swirl of glowing /light/ blossoming in his palm -- his eye flicks sideways to his companion almost like he's waiting for some negative reaction to this but his /cheer/ doesn't dim, regardless. "Even in the dead'a winter there ain't nothin drab." Like a million tiny will-o-wisps, the light breaks into myriad specks of smaller motes of light -- once they break off to fly away from Jax they wouldn't really be all that /noticeable/ if you hadn't been paying attention to start with, in the fading daylight, just slightly-brighter specks of light that could easily be mistakeen for a trick of the light. But they seek out colour, so /many/ colours, settling here and there to illuminate them. A brightly whimsically graffiti'd bus stop decorated with fantastical flowers, a girl passing by with purple-and-pink liberty spiked hair, a glittering gold-and-silver painted VW bug parked nearby, a pair of light poles that someone has yarn bombed in rainbow colours, a street artist drawing an intricate mural on the sidewalk in chalk. Jax's tiny light-faeries illuminate these and more in faint shimmer that lingers, briefly, and then fades. "Y'might gonna need more paints." Applauding as the little light motes illuminate the little splashes of color, Sean beams in amusement. "Bravo bravo. And I know that there are more colorful things in the city, but its little things like those." He gestures to encompass Jax's display. "I recognize that, but when I said I paint what I see, I was more... literal?" He seems to be waffling over something a moment before deciding. "I'll scrap the painting. Here, I'll show you. Do you have something that you're carrying that belongs to someone else? Like a borrowed hair tie or shopping bag or something?" Jax relaxes with another small bounce as this is met with applause rather than perhaps violence. His head tips to the side at the question, though. "Someone -- else? Um --" He frowns uncertainly, patting at himself but then stripping off a colourful jelly bracelet from his wrist. "This is my kid's he's always stealing my clothes I figure it's only fair I do the same." Nodding Sean holds out his hand for the bracelet. "If you don't mind me holding it for a moment? It's kinda hard to explain, way easier to show honestly." Rummaging about through his jacket pockets, he pulls out a small "artist trading card" made of bristol, slightly crinkled from its pocket existance and pulls out a pencil from another pocket. "Er, wait. Your kid isn't the sort that wouldn't be doing something he wouldn't want you to see right now would he? I'd feel like a complete tool if I ended up narcing on him by accident." He looks a tad bit awkward at that statement. "Uh -- nah he's a good kid he doesn't really ever --" Jax looks confused, but then blushes. "I mean I s'pose just about every parent says their kid's a good kid right? But my kids really /are/ good kids. Er, narcin' on him, I don't think --" He still looks mostly confused. In the end he pulls his phone out of his pocket, sending off a quick text. "He says he's just working on some art anyway," he answers Sean. "Why?"
Relaxing as Jax describes the kid and gets a text response, Sean smiles. "Want a sneak peak of what he's working on?" Looking about for a place to sit, he settles down to give the bristol board a more solid surface to work on as he sets pencil to it. "As I said, its a lot easier to demonstrate than it is to explain it. Just need the bracelet since well, I don't know you, let alone your kid." He offers a shrug as the pencil starts to move with the easy practice of someone who has drawn a great deal. Line line, sketch sketch, and as he works it begins to become more obvious what is being shown as the cargo pants and hoodie wearing sharktwin working on a bone sculpture. The more odd thing is that the artist's eyes seem to be closed as he works, as if working from memory. Jax moves back closer to Sean, his eye slowly widening as he watches Sean work. "Woah -- /woah/." He breathes this out, awed. "Woah, yeah, that's -- that's my B." He smiles, soft and fond. "/Woah/. That's -- kind of incredible. Y'can see him from /here/? That's amazing. An' yeah, he's artin'. Told you. Good kid. How d'you -- wow. You can just -- /wow/. Um -- that's -- wow." He rubs at the back of his neck, cheeks flushing deep. "So what was it that you was gonna paint?" Hanging the little art card and bracelet to Jax with a grin, Sean raises up off the concrete, brushing stray dirt and salt off his jeans. "Here you keep it. I don't think this is something you really want shared with someone else after all." At the questions, he just sorta shrugs. "Can't say as I understand how it works. But I pretty much have to know a person or place to draw it, unless I have something like that," he says with a gesture to the bracelet. "Makes it so much easier to draw a place during off hours. And then you don't have to set up a canvas and work in bad weather." He grins at Jax's reaction, nodding a bit. "It's awesome isn't it? I was drawing this one door stoop I had stopped at when I was walking earlier. There were these marble steps at this one apartment that looked kinda depressing otherwise. I thought it would look cool in the lighting and all." "That's -- just -- incredible. I said that already." Jax blushes even deeper as he takes back the bracelet and takes the card as well. "But man the /world/ is kind of awesome. Oh -- oh gosh I'm, we were getting paints. /You/ were getting paints look at me I'm, it's getting dark and it's getting late and I'm probably holding you up an' Sasha thinks I probably jus' ran off an' stole these on accident you know one time I come in here an' I got so excited over an idea for a painting I /did/ run off without payin'. But she knows I'll always be back," he adds with a laugh, trotting back to the door of the store and holding it open for Sean. Shaking his head in mirth, Sean follows back to the shop. "Its pretty lucrative. People really like those candid life captures, and well its good for getting stuff out of the way once I've drawn it. Nobody wants to sit and stare at their own art after all. Giving a reassuring wave to Sasha as he heads on in. "Oh I'll probably have to scrap and start over. But I can get enough new paints. That was why I needed so much in the whites and shadowy colors. Moonlight is pretty, but it really mutes out certain colors. Maybe I'll get a nice long shadow from someone walking by though." He seems thoughtful as to what might actually have changed in the moments past. "Hrm, I should double up yeah." Jax ducks his head sheepishly, signing 'sorry' even as he apologizes, in Spanish. "-- lo siento. I get excited and I kinda derail everything. Mmn. My bad. Moonlight is just all the silvery gorgeous. But that's a whole new vibe an' yeah I threw off your thing an' --" 'sorry', again, rubbed in a fist over his heart. "I hope y'capture somethin' else awesome. An' it don't get derailed by a crazyperson in a store draggin' you off to look at pixiedust. I should get home an' stop interruptin' your -- everything." His smile is still bright. He lifts the card with the picture of Sebastian on it, setting it gently in his basket as he goes to pluck the paints he actually came for off the shelf, too. "Thanks, for this." Making a gesture as if to indicate everything is okay, Sean replies "Its not a problem really. I've had to restart stuff all the time when I realize that I've ended up with someone in the picture, or a rat comes scampering across. I don't even really notice till I'm halfway through." Stacking a bunch of colors into his basket, he pauses then grabs a few warmer colors in reds and browns. "Just in case. I don't want to have to run out for another batch again." Gesturing to the card, he grins. "My email is on the back. I'm Sean by the way. And I apologize in advance if your kid thinks its creepy. People don't really like to find out someone was drawing them without them knowing. For obvious reasons." "Honestly with the kinds of people we tend to hang out with --" Jax gestures down to the sharkboy in the picture. "He'll probably think it's cool." He smiles over at the other man. "Jax. Maybe I'll see you around." He lifts his chin in a nod, and -- /half/ bounces his way towards the cash register, though a little less so than he might otherwise have been without his current level of stiffness. "Just saying. I try and avoid single subject pictures for a reason." Sean offers a shrug as he heads to pay for his own paint, pulling out a billfold from his back pocket, mainly looking for his credit card. "When you finish your night scene I'd love to see it. Anything with that much black and blue has got to be an interesting end result." Double checking he has enough paint, he nods, then smiles to Jax "Make sure you get plenty of ointment on. Bug your husband to do it for you," he says with a chuckle. "I am so good at buggery, you got no idea. But he's usually pretty easy to convince, too," Jax admits with a laugh, after he's actually paid for his paints as well and thanked Sasha warmly. "Have a good night, honey-honey. I'd love t'see some'a your other work some time, too." He's brought his own little bag -- tiny and pocket-sized, it folds out to big enough to carry his goods, and he fills it up to drape over his shoulder and carry out back into the cold. Laughing and shaking his head, Sean takes his spot to pay next. "You have a good evening there. Hit me up some time then." Offering a wave to the other fellow as he heads out, he finishes his transaction and heads for home. | |
