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playersandpiecesWHO: Liam and anyone who wanders by
WHERE: Birchpointe's central square
WHEN: Late spring, a few weeks after hellmarch
OPEN/CLOSED: Open!
PROSE OR BRACKETS: Whatever floats your boat, I'll go with either
WARNINGS: Splash zone
[Daily life was slow to return to Birchpointe, its citizens nervous about coming out at first. Bit by bit though, things started getting back to normal, though with a quiet air hanging over it, as if people were afraid to speak up.
Which made the splash of color downtown all the more vibrant, standing out against such a grey attitude.
It belonged to, for all intents and purposes, a street performer. He had several jars and cups full of paint at grouped intervals around him, in a seemingly random order. There were also canvases, some propped up on easels or other stands, showcasing various completed watercolors; landscapes, faces, animals, abstract splashes, and so on. All situated around him for people on all sides to see, of course. There was currently a large blank canvas in front of him, which is what he was currently working on.
And the performer himself? He certainly looked like an artist, with a shock of brilliant blue hair, a black vest over a white shirt too long for it, and simple pants and Converse sneakers. All of it paint splattered, even a few pieces of his hair, though he didn't seem to mind at all.
Brushes? Where we're going, we don't need brushes. His hands could do the job just as well, but not in the way you might expect. Though they were as colorful as the rest of him (used for doing detail work on the canvases, with cups of water around him for due rinsing), the paint only passed through the air before hitting the canvas, obeying the slashing and swinging motions his hands carved through the air. It was a sight to watch him bend the watercolor paint to his will, creating pieces that, judging by empty stands here and there, were being bought faster than he could replace them. A motion from his hand swept a swath of red out of a nearby jar and he applied it to his latest, creating accents.
So come by and watch, maybe even forget your troubles for a little while. Perhaps even take a little color and vibrancy home with you, if there was anything to strike your fancy.]
WHERE: Birchpointe's central square
WHEN: Late spring, a few weeks after hellmarch
OPEN/CLOSED: Open!
PROSE OR BRACKETS: Whatever floats your boat, I'll go with either
WARNINGS: Splash zone
[Daily life was slow to return to Birchpointe, its citizens nervous about coming out at first. Bit by bit though, things started getting back to normal, though with a quiet air hanging over it, as if people were afraid to speak up.
Which made the splash of color downtown all the more vibrant, standing out against such a grey attitude.
It belonged to, for all intents and purposes, a street performer. He had several jars and cups full of paint at grouped intervals around him, in a seemingly random order. There were also canvases, some propped up on easels or other stands, showcasing various completed watercolors; landscapes, faces, animals, abstract splashes, and so on. All situated around him for people on all sides to see, of course. There was currently a large blank canvas in front of him, which is what he was currently working on.
And the performer himself? He certainly looked like an artist, with a shock of brilliant blue hair, a black vest over a white shirt too long for it, and simple pants and Converse sneakers. All of it paint splattered, even a few pieces of his hair, though he didn't seem to mind at all.
Brushes? Where we're going, we don't need brushes. His hands could do the job just as well, but not in the way you might expect. Though they were as colorful as the rest of him (used for doing detail work on the canvases, with cups of water around him for due rinsing), the paint only passed through the air before hitting the canvas, obeying the slashing and swinging motions his hands carved through the air. It was a sight to watch him bend the watercolor paint to his will, creating pieces that, judging by empty stands here and there, were being bought faster than he could replace them. A motion from his hand swept a swath of red out of a nearby jar and he applied it to his latest, creating accents.
So come by and watch, maybe even forget your troubles for a little while. Perhaps even take a little color and vibrancy home with you, if there was anything to strike your fancy.]
