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Post by ms on Sept 16, 2008 0:19:45 GMT -5
Colin liked the museum. There was really no reason for a blind man to be there, but it was interesting none the less. Over time he had learned the new-fangled system of braille. It was made in 1821, he had been born in 1888. So, maybe it wasn’t as new as he liked to think. But it was a nice thing to have. He didn’t know what he was looking at, what he could possibly be standing in front of… but here, in the art section of the museum, he thought it funny. It was a very visual section, of colors and shapes and strokes and beautiful statues… with braille on their description cards. It amused him. So he would spend his days going through the free parts of the museum, reading the descriptions and enjoying history that he didn't realize happened around him, or he was in the wrong place. He rather enjoyed the kid’s area… where he got to touch what they were talking about.
But this, this was his favorite. The stained glass window. The card read that it depicted some saint in some time past that was worshiping some miracle under the full moon. And that’s why he liked it. The moon. He’s a werewolf, one that spent more time with fur on than off. He made sure to come at just the right time, when the sun went through it. He could feel the heat the light made, and each color had a different temperature. So he would stand, and let the light hit him, let the different heats touch his skin, and paint the image in his mind.
He looked really silly doing it, but that’s what he came here for. The window that acted as sight.
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Post by araynia on Sept 16, 2008 14:13:42 GMT -5
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Post by ms on Sept 16, 2008 16:10:01 GMT -5
(OOC: Not at all! That’s what “open” is for.)
A smell… not unpleasant but something he hadn’t smelled in a long time. Female, wolf… no blood, no grime, no stage makeup… just female wolf. It enticed him to listen, to smell, to find out. The sun was forgotten, the image forgotten. This was something new, and he wanted to know. Turning slightly Colin sniffed the air, trying to figure out where they were. It was so different, intoxicating.
“Hello?” Damn his eyes. He had lived so long in darkness he got along with it. Didn’t mean he liked it. He wanted to see the person, know where they were, how they got there… but he couldn’t.
(Bah, sorry, muse kind of said “no” all of a sudden.)
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Post by araynia on Sept 16, 2008 16:39:01 GMT -5
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Post by ms on Sept 16, 2008 16:53:37 GMT -5
Smiling Colin turned back to the window, running his fingers over the dots that told him how it was made. Listening to the slight jingle that told him where she was he tilted his head to the side and shrugged. So much could be learned through body language. She had come closer, but still hung back. She was nervous. Maybe didn’t expect people to be here, let alone another wolf? Did she even know he was lycan? He could smell her, but could she smell him? All in due time, all in due time.
“How can anyone bother another in a place made to view something so public? It’s a beautiful work of art. The window is so full of wonder, how people can create something from colored bits of glass that even I can enjoy. The moon is just an added bonus.”
Taking a partial step back he found another spot, cooler than the rest. He guessed this must be the moon. Red was hot, blue felt toneless, but gray must feel cold. He hoped it was the moon on his face, or he would look rather silly otherwise. But he was bathed in colors of all kinds, how could one more make him look any sillier than he already did?
“I am Coin, who might you be?” His wolf name. The name he had been given in the circus as a freak. Coins, the color of his fur, gold. Or, at that time, they were gold. He only gave this name to other wolves. It was special to him, and he felt only those who shared his beast-side should know it.
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Post by araynia on Sept 17, 2008 11:25:41 GMT -5
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Post by ms on Sept 17, 2008 19:06:01 GMT -5
“Lycan Rayne. Goes with the window.” Wolf’s Rain… sorry, couldn’t help the reference. But it was fitting. Dwindling numbers, hunters everywhere… and here, just a small small piece of peace. She walked forward again, leaning at another display. Taking a step to the side he let the red of one of the robes hit him now, red was the hottest color. He remembered colors, well, some of them. Corn yellow, how he started out life, was fading in his mind. Blue would never go away, the sky, the water… how he spent long hours looking out the tiny window before his eyes were taken. Even his eyes were blue, so the few times he had seen himself in a mirror he would never forget.
Silver, the last thing he saw, would stay forever. When your eyes were being destroyed by that, you wouldn’t forget it either. But red… that held a special place. Red was blood… he would always know something was red. There was a feel, a smell, a taste to red. Red was special.
“What brings the Rayne to the museum?”
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Post by araynia on Sept 18, 2008 11:08:40 GMT -5
[/i] Well there was a bit of irony she'd never actually noticed, Rayne tilted her head, that was the wolf's search for paradise. And today that was something rare, what with the whole not getting along with vampires and hunters. It was all a royal pain in the ass. Though his comment on her name made her curious about something else, she came from an area where born werewolves were prominent. They loved the old legends of paradise.... Maybe her distant parents had cared more then she and DeAngelous had ever realised, if that had been the reason behind the name... Rayne desided she'd like to believe it was. Tearing her mind away from those thoughts, Araynia gazed at the other wolf, half curious, half studying him. He seemed able to feel the colors... if that was at all possible. He'd shifted, so he was standing beneath the red, that particular color made a shiver run down her body. Red was the color of blood and that brought back several rather emotionally painful memories. "It's my day off so to speak and coming here seemed an appropriate place to visit and a good place to grant myself a bit of peace of mind... so to speak." Rayne was aware she was being rather vague and that most likely her words wouldn't make sense to Coin, but they were the truth.[/ul][/size] |
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Post by ms on Sept 18, 2008 12:53:46 GMT -5
Nodding at her statement he closed his eyes, trying to imagine the colors again. The window drew itself in his head, vibrant blues, reds, greens… but the others were muted, yellow was fading into some other he had no name for, gray wasn’t set, other colors melded together and were hard to distinguish. How long would it be, how much longer could he hold the colors in his memory? Red would stay forever, as would black. But white, blue, green? If others were fading , when would they? Maybe blue and red would fade at some point… that would hurt worse than any other color. Colin opened his eyes again, letting his body relax as he turned and shuffled to where he hopped a bench would be.
Finding something with his shins he touched it, taking in the wood smell and varnish before sitting. Folding his hands in his lap he leaned back, breathing in the dust and paint of the room. Peace, what a thought.
“Those are nice days. Days that don’t require much thought. Join me, maybe we can enjoy a bit of peace together. Finding people such as ourselves are rare here.”
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Post by araynia on Sept 18, 2008 20:55:45 GMT -5
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Post by ms on Sept 18, 2008 22:30:08 GMT -5
She was hesitant; he could hear it and feel it. It made the air heavy, cloudy around him as she thought over how to act, what to do, what to say. She was carefully guarding something, something important. He wasn’t going to pry; heaven knows that he hid an awful lot of things. But he took in what she said and how it applied to today. It was interesting, how people viewed the world.
“No, well, yes. Now and again. Mostly just this room when I do. Little trouble with everything else, you know? I’d love to be here more, in this room. The sun is one thing, but the moon? I’ll bet my life that it’s beautiful. What I wouldn’t give to see it just once. I mean really see it.” His voice trailed off, stopping himself before he went too deep. He was too old for feeling sorry or stupid.
“Nice moments make days worth it. How about you? Come here a lot?”
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Post by araynia on Sept 19, 2008 10:07:14 GMT -5
[/i] More often than anyone who worked here knew, Araynia stifled a laugh, her lips twitching upwards in a smile. "On occasion, though I usually don't see that many people when I am here," Araynia said her tone still amused, it was the truth. When she came there were usually only one or two people and they were night guards. Of course there was the occasional other thief to contend with but for the most part it was typically just her. "If you don't mind my asking, how exactly do you seem to know how the window appears? I mean besides the basic description, you seem to have such a feel for the piece."[/ul][/size] |
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Post by ms on Sept 19, 2008 12:51:41 GMT -5
It was funny, how lives changed. Here she talked about never really appreciated the window before. She had always enjoyed other works here, other means of inspiration. So something in her perspective of the world changed. Rather funny, really. He loved thinking that people changed how they interpreted what they saw because they got a different reality check around him. Then again, that was him just being conceded at times. Chuckling at that thought he shook it from his mind, glad to have something else to occupy himself with.
“Have you ever felt light? Stand under different laps, they have a different feel. The sun’s texture changes as it comes through different windows; that’s why people tint their car’s windshields. Each pane of glass up there is a different color. The sun’s heat and feel are different for each color. Put a hand in the red, then a little after put it in the blue. The red is hotter. Their heat pattern helps me figure out its shape.” He loved teaching.
"If people aren't here when you are, when do you come?"
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Post by araynia on Sept 19, 2008 16:00:05 GMT -5
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Post by ms on Sept 20, 2008 16:23:46 GMT -5
Ah, so she was a thief! How interesting. The wolves seemed to be good at that. Maybe it was that they could smell a good hit, who knew? At least they were surviving, honestly or not. A smile grew at the comment she made about him being a teacher. Sadly. As much as he loved to teach people about their world and a new way of looking at things, he had no idea how to do that without ever going to a real school.
“My living? Same as yours. I’m a pick-pocket on the subway. I don’t teach, not like you mean anyway. Seems a popular choice for our kind. Sad, but true.”
(Sorry, you waited forever for this tiny piece of crap. I’ll try and get better, I swear!)
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