[The Quill's Rest] Draw Me Like One Of Your Konti Girls

[Calen]

day 03 fall 512 AV Considering that he had slipped into the building only because it appeared to be the least pretentious and it had been the closest he was CERTAIN he could enter uninvited without breaking any sort of laws or social expectations, Calen had to say, the place had class. Through what Calen presumed was its general color scheme and tasteful decorating, it had achieved an ambiance that Calen had to admit, he appreciated. Though, truth be told, about 30% of Calen's appreciation was born of the fact that the establishment had sturdy walls and thus kept the cutting wind that had developed rather suddenly outside; he assumed that ANY building that kept wind out would look pretty good right about now. It wasn't that the wind was all that bad, but due to the simple fact that it had emerged during those two agonizing hours his father had forced him to spend at his Uncle Roy's he was grossly unprepared for it. Having chosen to wear a brown, Cotton shirt to match his Wool Pants of similar coloring, underneath his simple, gray cloak Calen had presumed that would be enough. Of course, this had choice had been made soon after Calen had awoken near the end of mid-day when it was still, if only mildly, sunny out. Now, Mother Nature was teaching him the valuable lesson to not mess with her as she cruelly, and repeatedly, mind you, slapped his genitals with her terribly chilly hands. Some called Mother Nature a bitch, but today, it seemed, she had successfully made Calen her bitch. Chuckling softly at his own sharp wit, Calen undid and threw his cloak over his seat before sitting down at the table he had inadvertently claimed. Almost as soon as his bottom hit the chair, Calen began to look around. Calen figured if he was going to sit here until he worked up the courage to brave the biting wind, he should probably try not to be the weirdest guy in the room. It wasn't much of a goal, but it was a goal. As his eyes swept the room, Calen took note that pretty much everyone either had a quill and some sort of parchment or paper to write on, or the person they were with had the aforementioned equipment. There were only a handful of people who didn't, and they seemed to be enjoying the view and drinking something that he would be able to see if only that damned old lady would move her flabby, veined arm. Sighing with resignation, Calen began to rummage around in his rucksack, he had taken to walking around with a rucksack, and extracted one of the quills he had begun walking around with, when you had as many as he did, you traveled with at least one at all times, one of his sealed ink vials and his blank book. Needless to say, Calen had adapted to life as a University student rather poorly; he had become less worldly and more oddly prepared. He had come to the realization that he need not be prepared at all times to learn and thus record things, and then said 'Forget that! I'll do what I want'. So, choosing to waste no more time, Calen removed the sealing on his ink vial and dipped his quill in. He then stopped as he came to the realization that he had absolutely nothing to write about. Despite the fact that his mind seemed constantly dominated by thought after thought, none of those thoughts seemed important enough to warrant him expanding the miniscule amount of energy it would take to move his quill in such a fashion so as to leave a string of characters that would result in a series of words that would constitute a worthy sentence. In layman terms, he had writer's block. Looking across the room, Calen's eyes fell onto the form of one of the few people in the establishment who was not writing nor had a companion who was writing. Calen found himself captivated by both her and what she was doing. She was beautiful. And drawing. She was a beautiful young lady who was drawing something he would be able to see if that DAMNED OLD WOMAN WOULD JUST MOVE HER STUPID WHITE HAIR! For an instant Calen was seized by two completely different and equally jarring desires. One was to throw something very heavy at the elderly woman who seemed to be reading his thoughts and then maliciously and subtly positioning at least one part of her body parts to impede his view of whatever he wanted to see; if that was the case, he was going to have to start thinking some very disturbing and sexually deviant things to keep her off her guard. The second was to approach the beautiful girl. He went with the latter. Making his way across the room, Calen left his cloak, quill, ink and book behind, he left the utensils behind because he didn't want to carry them with him; he left the cloak behind because he had forgotten he had come in with one. As he reached his destination Calen found out just what the girl had been drawing and found himself rather shocked. She had been drawing him. Or, at least, she was drawing him from the shoulders up. And it was good work too, remarkably accurate. Instantly, Calen began to think of reasons why this young lady would do something like that, but, as always, he realized that his first assumptions could not be true; he had yet to meet a girl who was willing to allow him to utilize his genitals as they were designed to be used and it seemed a bit too good to be true for him to happen across one after having visited Uncle Roy's home. As fair as the universe was, that was only SLIGHTLY unbalanced in the favor of good, only slightly. "Care to take a seat?" she asked, suddenly, snapping Calen's thoughts from his Uncle Roy's tastelessly decorated home and back to the subject of the young lady he was now looming over. She truly was a beautiful creature. With her slight frame, full lips, dark brown hair and rosy cheeks, Calen could think of few words that would describe her adequately beyond beautiful. Truth be told, 'Sexually Arousing' was not one of them only because that was more of a phrase than it was a word. "Uh, yeah, I wouldn't mind" Calen responded, kicking himself mentally almost immediately. He wanted to sound smooth and confident, but instead, he found himself sounding awkward and nervous, which were, of course, more accurate descriptive words on how he was feeling, but he was less interested in honesty at the moment as he was in this girl's opinion of him. Taking a seat, Calen looked the girl deep in her auburn eyes and instantly found himself quite unable to not spew complete crap out of his mouth. "So you're an artist too?" Calen asked suddenly. It seemed that lying was the way to go, as the girl brightened immediately. Breaking out in a grin she nodded fiercely as she spoke "Yeah! Actually, I came to this city in hopes of joining the University's Arts and Crafts department". "Oh yeah? Well, I just joined that very same department myself" Calen lied with absolutely zero remorse. If it gave him an opportunity to speak further with this girl he would claim to be a mythological creature, he sincerely did not care. "Oh, that's incredible! Draw me! Come on, I drew you, now you do me" she exclaimed, obviously excited to have met what she believed was surely some sort of kindred spirit. For a moment Calen felt a pit develop in his stomach, but he chose to ignore it, after all, there way drawing could be that difficult; he had seen people draw and it looked pretty easy. So, wasting no time, Calen turned the sheet of paper the girl had drawn him on over and grabbed her quill and began to work. Having chosen to form one of his arms into a sort of barrier against her line of sight, Calen scratch at the paper again and again, attempting to pay homage to the girl's delicate features. Her small, but strangely compelling, pink lips, the rosy hue that seemed to blossom naturally on her childish smooth looking cheeks, the gentle arch of her nose and eyebrows. It was as he attempted to draw her hair that he seemed to have the most issue. First he went with broad, kind of scribble marks, but then he doubted the quality of that and instead went with slow, careful strokes. Finally, Calen stopped completely and simply stood up. "Forget this. I'm going home" he announced to the young lady, obviously catching her off guard as he simply looked at him, blinking repeatedly. Flicking her quill back at her Calen went to his table, retrieved and replaced his things into his rucksack and began to make his way to the door. Suddenly, he stopped, turned towards the young lady's direction and began to walk towards her again. "Wha-" she began, but was caught off guard as Calen simply picked up the piece of paper he had begun drawing on, ripped it cleanly in two and then placed it back down, his half-finished, horrendous drawing-side up and walked towards the door again. "Art is stupid anyway" he muttered to himself, attempting to console himself and restore his obviously bruised ego.

[Arcane]

Rewards and Treasure! Experience Points +2 Observation +1 Drawing +2 Subterfuge Lores That Konti Girl Lying Shamelessly Comments A delightful read as always. Cal's antics are still as enjoyable as ever.