Completed [Job Thread] Black, White, and Bland All Over

[Aislyn Leavold]

61st of Summer, 515 AV

Summer had certainly been an interesting season. Though by definition, every season in Alvadas was interesting. This was just especially so, right off the bat. Thus far, there had been relative normalcy throughout the illusions. Rainbow bears, miraculous flooding, houses changing shape. The norm. The only peculiar thing to Aislyn was the whole sinking into the ground part. It was fairly dramatic, and quite startling, though not particularly worrying. So maybe 'peculiar' wasn't the right word to describe it. A better word was 'unique'. Dramatic changes in the city’s landscape had happened before, yes, but not as often as one would think. Several years before Aislyn fondly remembered a season in which, on the eve of the season change, Alvadas simply rose up into the sky. The reaction of those not acquainted with the city was priceless. The demand for Wind Eagles for that season soared; it was one of the best things Lyn had ever experienced.

Aislyn took it all in stride though. As did every other Alvad, especially the entrepreneur-esqe Symenestra that had set up a sort of summer-sledding deal with the cavern’s long slides. The whole ordeal wasn’t the most appealing to Aislyn, especially since the first she’d heard of the project was on the conversation of the poor lad who’d bought a sled, then managed to lose it halfway down. This, of course, was not ideal, and resulted in some very unfortunate collisions and the possible death of the adventurous youth.
All for the price of one copper miza.

The woman’s favourite event of the season, though, had to be the sudden drabness of Alvadas’ culture. The normal, colourful fashion of the city washed out to become a patterned, monotone tune of grey and white. In the same way the colours were beautiful, the dull was stunning. It was like the houses of the Alvads directly related to the appearance of the citizens themselves. It was amazing, and best of all, convenient.
Aislyn usually stuck to black and white while drawing or sketching, since her coloured charcoals were in short demand, and her painting skills were even rarer.

But as with clothing, the orders Aislyn collected changed with the illusions the season presented. No mention of colour in any of the commissions Lyn had received thus far. Then again, she’d only received a few, so maybe there’d be an odd one out as the season progressed. If her luck played out, however, they’d stick to the pattern.

On the topic of luck, Aislyn had been just lucky enough to receive a commission just before the season’s end. It was always nice to have one last thing to wrap up a season’s work, even if this particular end was a little early. Ten cycles of the sun until the season change, and, from what was written in the letter Aislyn had received a few days prior, ten days to complete her work.
Well, then, it's time to begin.

[Aislyn Leavold]

Whilst collecting her materials, Aislyn read over the order once again, just to reassure herself.

”To Miss,”

It seemed with every letter, Aislyn’s address was growing shorter and shorter. Perhaps she should put her name on some of the artist-for-commission signs. It would probably make her customers less awkward in their addresses.

”Would you kindly create a picture, black and white, of the Alvadas streets? Not just a landscape, please, but an illustration framing the bustling city, in it’s new, lower status shape. The illustration will be monotone, highlighting the new, uniform shape and style of the city. The background may be the cavernous houses, or perhaps the strictly conforming bazaar. I request that you kindly make the item on the largest canvas you have, and I shall pay extra the larger it may be.
If possible, it may be framed.
Please leave the artwork, protected, on the doorstep of The Withering Rose. I have arranged to come pick it up.
Thank you.”

Aislyn had never received a request so potently specific before. Or so poetically written. It certainly seemed like a possibility that this person was an artist of some sort themselves. At very least they were a fan of art in general. Which meant there was no lack of judgement if Aislyn didn’t produce what was ordered. Joy.

Getting dressed into proper clothing, Aislyn decided to try out the items she had bought several seasons prior. Her favourite, of course, being the rainbow silk skirt that had been her main item of purchase. It was so colourful and flowed so gracefully; it certainly seemed very Alvadas-esqe. Except, of course, Alvadas-esqe was not what Alvadas had decided would be in-fashion for the season. No, the same seasonal event that Aislyn enjoyed so much violently contrasted the clothes she’d been meaning to wear, but had only gotten around to the second it was out of style.
How tragic.

However, Ionu’s gift was a particularly useful one, and though Aislyn was not always one for frivolous costume changes, the woman was an opportunist. Silently, she brushed at the colours on the skirt, concentrating on how they would fade away, as if sucked into the ground.
What she was left with was the perfect, beautiful, bland outfit that any good Alvad would love.
This season, at least.

Aside from clothes, Aislyn also collected what was to be needed on her little adventure. Her backpack, sketchbook, set of charcoals (which was in dire need of replacing), and the largest piece of parchment the woman had. Which, unfortunately, was not very large.

It appeared she’d be choosing the bazaar as her focus, as that was where she needed to head next.

[Aislyn Leavold]

The Alvadas Bizarre Bazaar. Usually, the most colourful place in the city of illusions. Today, however, the assorted shops looked like a painting left out in the rain, the pigment washed away. It was beautiful in the strangest way. Aislyn had a peculiar appreciation for the duller version of her city, as if it was simply the opposite side of the spectrum to the usual colouration of the shops and stands. Still quite pretty in its own way, just different.
And ‘different’ was Alvadas’ specialty.

The bazaar itself was functionally the same, but in appearance looked very, very different. The whole ‘sinking four hundred feet into the ground’ really took a toll on seeming like the same city as the season before. The dull feeling of the city was also reflected in the uniform look of the shops. The only difference, it seemed, was the people who were selling the goods (who even then were all wearing the same, bland look) and the wares that were being sold.

As she worked her way around the stalls, Aislyn eventually found her way to the shop she was looking for. Art supplies, of course, where the owner of said stand was a familiar face. ‘Maya’, of course, was one of the most frequent return customers. Black charcoals broke and wore down quickly, as was proven by the stubs that her most recent kit had become. Parchment was self explanatory. She could use up an entire sheet for sketches, but when using it for full pieces she often went through drafts very quickly. It wasn’t as if the supplies were unreasonably expensive, but after a while it certainly added up.

Aislyn always loved using new charcoals for a piece. The strokes with fresher charcoal were so much cleaner and sharper, producing a better look than when they were run down. It brought her some sort of strange happiness to use new charcoal on new parchment. A strange happiness that of course showed through when whatever she was drawing looked just that much better. It was especially nice now that the subject of her painting was uniform, meaning the lines had to be uniform as well.

Once everything was collected, it was just a matter of finding a quiet place to sit down with a good vantage point of the bazaar, and then she could begin.
Which would be easy, should there not have been something very big and very blue standing right behind her when she turned away from the stall.

In a moment of almost serene silentness as Aislyn processed what was in front of her, the woman froze. More from surprise more than anything else, but froze nonetheless.

It was a bear.
A blue- or was it purple? Navy? No, indigo. Definitely indigo. -bear.
And she’d thought ducks had been bad.
At least Aislyn wasn’t allergic to bears.

[Aislyn Leavold]

As much as Aislyn enjoyed nature, she’d much rather paint, or sketch, or draw it than interact with it. She’d never so much as seen a bear before, nevermind come this close to one. It was barely a yard away from her. Easily within its range of attack.
She may be no expert on bears, but anything with sharp teeth and sharper claws was no friend in the artist’s book. Yet no one else seemed particularly alarmed. On edge, perhaps, but there was no armed shopkeepers running towards the large animal with knives and loaves of bread. Which was a good sign.
Or a bad sign.
It was hard to tell.

The bear didn’t look particularly bothered by the large amounts of people casually and awkwardly attempting to avoid it. It was relatively timid for a bear, it seemed. At least, any bears Aislyn knew. Which wasn’t many.
Her supplies haphazardly shoved into her bag, the artist began to side-step away from the bear. Maybe it was friendly, but really, Aislyn didn’t care either way. She wasn’t in the mood to make friends, and besides, she had things to do.
Things that did not include being mauled, and/or making an alliance with a bear.
Luckily, Aislyn was small, and the bear was not, making for an easy getaway in the confined space of the bazaar. She didn’t particularly care what the animal did after she was away from it. It would be a pity for her favourite shop owner- the art supply vendor, of course- to be hurt in the process, but she wasn’t going back to save them. As long as she was out of the way.

Now in the heat of the bazaar, Aislyn found her way to a back alley, away from the crowd. That was her least favourite part of the place; the crowd. But it was a relief to be out. The new, monotone feeling of the streets and buildings made everything a heck of a lot easier to get lost in. And with no particular feeling of wasting time, Aislyn didn’t really mind getting lost. She just needed a nice, preferably high vantage point, and she’d be set. A rooftop was her ideal position, usually, but with the new, cavernous layout of Alvadas, rooftops were in low supply. Maybe she could find a cave that led to a higher cave, or a overhang. Something near the bazaar, so she could get at least a charcoal outline done.
The request had been very specific in what was needed, and Aislyn already had an image in mind, so it couldn’t be all that hard to at very least finish the beginning of her work. A row of houses upon a row of houses upon the scene of the bazaar. Lit by the open-ended sunlight escaping from the cavern entrance above the city. It was, unfortunately, a lot of background work, which was nothing exciting, but the lighting should be fun.

The whole repetitive scheme of Alvadas that season was both a blessing and a curse for Aislyn in an artistic perspective. She didn’t have to concentrate on complicated figures and poses in her charcoal strokes, but the geometrical pattern of the new landscape was, to be put simply, not all that exciting to draw. It was a lot of lines made straight with the help of a book spine or something similar, then more, smaller lines as details.
At least she couldn’t mess that up.

After several chimes of scouring various cave walls nearby the Bazaar, Aislyn finally came across a promising cave. A bit spiky for her liking, but she could deal with a few stalagmites in the name of art. At first it seemed like a pretty small cave, just one that went in and out, carved by trickling water that never really existed because this was Alvadas. But of course, there was more to it than that. Alarmingly quickly it became dark, and Aislyn found herself very grateful for her improved night vision. Not that it stopped her from falling on her face more than once.

Finally, just as the artist was contemplating turning back, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Quite literally, in fact.

As Aislyn stepped up to the cave exit, she found herself coming down with an indescribable sense of be careful what you wish for. She’d found her vantage point, certainly. The question was, how high was too high?

[Aislyn Leavold]

Good thing I’m not afraid of heights, the woman thought, as she envisioned all the ways she could possibly fall, trip, or be pushed off the crumbling ledge to her inevitable doom.

If you stacked five of the bland-ified houses on top of each other, Aislyn could have walked onto the rooftop of the fifth. It appeared the tunnel she’d been trekking through had been a very slight, very winding incline that she just hadn’t noticed had added up. It was both beautiful and vertigo-inducing, watching the people of Alvadas walk around from so far away. And she wasn’t even at the top of the cavern. She could only imagine how insignificant everything looked from up there. A glimpse into Ionu’s eyes, she supposed. Was that was it was like to be a deity? A view from the heavens, twenty-four bells a day, only coming down to a lowered perspective every once in awhile to induce chaos into a handful of Alvads’ lives. It raised the question of why the gods came down from their perches at all, if this was the view they regularly saw.

But, Aislyn thought, that’s a philosophy to ponder on another day. For now, she had to begin working, before the city was shuffled in a way that blocked her view.

Cross-leggedly sitting a dangerous distance away from the edge of the ledge, Aislyn began her work. A line, traced to be straight, then paralleled before actual details were added in. Rows of houses that bled off the page (or would, soon, once Aislyn got the image down on paper), surrounding the bazaar. The conflicting nature of the geometrical lines and the sketchier, un-traced ones annoyed her, but after all, this was just a preliminary drawing. She could fix the inconsistencies later.
Landscapes and people were the two things Aislyn liked to draw the most. Animals (and under that distinction, fur) along with finer details were a bit more difficult, but this- this was enjoyable. Even if the lines didn’t always cooperate.

As she got used to the outrageous height, Aislyn shuffled closer to the edge, dangling her feet over the sharpened rock face. The breeze was enjoyable.

After a long while of silence and charcoal scratches on parchment, Aislyn set the sketch to the side, getting up to stretch her legs. Securing her belongings under stones of various sizes, the woman turned her attention to the structure of the cave. She swore, the formations on the walls, floor, and ceiling of the cave had changed position, but it wasn’t like she’d studied them very closely in the first place. It could, always, be her imagination. Or Ionu.

She definitely did not, however, remember the larger shadow lurking in the bend of the tunnel. Also, hadn’t that bend been to the right, not left? Shifting stalagmites and stalactites were one thing, but shifting directions could be more dangerous. What if the cave led to a dead end now? How would she get out?
Oh right, mysterious shadow.

Slowly moving closer, Aislyn tried to sneak up on whatever it was, anticipating more rock formations, or maybe a very, very oversized bat.
Unfortunately, what she found was neither sedimentary nor chiroptera. Rather, it was a very curious looking bear. A purpley-blue bear, to be exact. The same indigo one she had seen before, in the bazaar. But it couldn’t have followed her all the way into the cave, could it? She lost it far back, in between stalls. Bears weren’t that smart, were they?

As if responding to her thoughts, the bear made an indifferent huffing noise.

As her mind began to flicker over best- and worst-case scenarios, Aislyn started her retreat, hoping the bear decided she wasn’t the best idea for a snack after all. Certainly not a snack worth tracking through a busy Alvadas marketplace, across several streets, up a cave system and out to where they stood now. No one person could possibly be that delicious. Besides, the woman was far too bony. No good meal here, she assured herself. As if how good she might taste would dissuade the animal from an easy dinner.

The bear, in all its purpleish glory, lazily made its way around the various spikes in the cave ground, coming ever closer to the slowly escaping woman. Ionu save her, she didn’t deserve this.

[Aislyn Leavold]

Well, wasn’t this a predicament.
Aislyn could have been at home at that moment, happily sketching some probably badly proportioned character from her imagination onto cheap sketchbook parchment that she’d never look at again. But no, she was standing in a cave, pushing her expensive, canvas sized-paper off a cliff as she shuffled towards impending doom away from a bear. And an indigo one, at that. Not even a real bear, just one that looked at her weirdly and kept inching excruciatingly slowly towards her.

She was rather worryingly quickly running out of room to back away. A glance over her shoulder both confirmed the fact that there was no more ground to shuffle back onto and invited the bear to gain several feet on her by the time she turned back around.

This was not a situation she liked the look of.

Maya flickered as the bear let out a lazy roar, unfazed by the cliff edge approaching for both of them. Several stones fell out of side as Aislyn stepped away from where she’d set her supplies. If the bear just stayed in place, she could work her way around the outside…
Except the bear, being a bear, did not, in fact, stay in place.
In a gesture almost alike curiosity, the beast lumbered towards where Aislyn had been standing, sniffing diligently at the art supplies. The artist couldn’t say she wasn’t alarmed by how close her work was to flying off into the cavern that was now Alvadas. She’d had a decent sketch down, and if that all went over…

Ionu preserve her, she was a fool.

Inching closer once again to where her precious art supplies were being held hostage, Aislyn reached out, hand slow and steady. She was, voluntarily, putting her hand on the bite-y side of the bear. But for the mizas she had paid for the supplies and the bells she had spent working on what was there… Fingers weren’t really that important, were they?

The bear watched her with it’s violet eyes on indigo coat, making no move to stop her as she retrieved her supplies, piece by piece. Her rucksack, then the blank pages, finally the large parchment with the Bizarre Bazaar lightly sketched on it. After that, the charcoals…
Out of everything she’d done, the bear seemed most offended by the artist’s movement to try and retrieve her charcoal sticks. It quickly and silently raised and lowered its blue-purple paw so that a thicker piece was trapped underneath its mighty hand-thing.
Startled, Aislyn just barely managed to escape with the majority of her charcoals and all her fingers. At least one stick went tumbling off the cliff, but out of everything, they were the least of her worries. She just needed to get out of there after that.

The bear, however, had other ideas.
With one of Aislyn’s chunkier charcoals in its mouth, the bear blocked her path to safety.
She was trapped between a rock and a hard place.
Or, between a bear and a very, very long fall.

”Ah… Nice… Bear? Nice bear… Let me through…”
No movement. Only a look in the bear’s eyes that spoke of something other than eating her. A look between her, the charcoals on the ground, and the parchment in her hand.
Bears weren’t supposed to be smart. That wasn’t how things were supposed to work. They weren’t supposed to send cryptic messages with their eyes.
But, Aislyn supposed, this wasn’t an ordinary bear. It was an illusionary bear. One of Ionu’s make and design. And, if she connected the dots correctly, it wanted her to draw.

Ionu, my god, please… please let me leave this situation alive. She paused, her eyes meeting that of the hulking beast in front of her, and, with all body parts still attached.

[Aislyn Leavold]

Once again sitting cross-leggedly on the edge of a cliff, Aislyn laid out her parchment on the rocky ground in front of her. She drew out her charcoal, slow and deliberate, her actions cautious. She was just drawing, again, after all. Just as the artist had been doing so a little over half a bell before. Except now she was facing away from the cliff edge, and she had an audience.

The bear had laid its head down on its paws by that point, eyes indolently following her movements. Her panic had subsided, for the moment. She was just drawing. Just… Drawing. Drawing the city. Drawing Alvadas, in its blandified glory. Drawing, as she did on the regular. Nothing strange about it.
The bear was just added incentive to stop her getting off task.
The decently sized piece of parchment with her rough draft sketched on it was the only thing that lay between Aislyn and the beast. It wasn’t much of a barrier, really.

Nonetheless, once again the woman set to work. Lining the sketch with darker charcoal strokes, letting the sketchy lines harden into more permanent ones. In place of colour, she shaded the houses. Light flooded in from the opening of the cavern, as it did in real life, where Aislyn could see. More than once, she had to readjust her grip in order to get the angle just so. Light was a tricky thing in drawings. The source wasn’t always obvious, but that didn’t mean one could ignore the rules. If there was only one source (in this case, the sun), the shadows couldn’t change based on what object cast it. If one house had a shadow that faced to the right, all the houses had to have right-facing shadows, because that meant the light source was to the left. And that was how shadows worked.
Unfortunately, when the light source was above the object, it was a lot easier to mix up which way the shadow was facing.

Little details, little details. I’ve got a bear breathing down my neck, but I’m focusing on which way to hold my charcoal.

Fascinating how priorities worked.

As the image evolved, the bear appeared to lose interest. The vibrantly indigo head of the vibrantly indigo beast lulled onto the ground. Half a bell later, the drawing was finished, and Aislyn was convinced it was asleep. Slowly but surely, she planned her escape.
First, the drawing. Rolled up and neatly tied to her knapsack, out of way of harm. Her art supplies, aside from the charcoals, were already neatly packed away. She had secured everything, except for a way to escape, and what supplies the bear had under its paw.

The woman managed to retrieve even the larger charcoal piece from before, which was now covered in purple-y bear fur, but decided her escape mattered more than the two pieces of material under the bear’s paw. So, furry charcoal piece in hand, Aislyn escaped. Slowly. With an air of caution, as she stepped over the sleeping beast and into the cavern beyond it. After that, she all out ran, vowing that no good view was worth what she’d gone through to get it.

…

The next day, a large frame was left on the doorway of the Withering Rose. Inside was a hand-drawn image of the Alvad Bizarre Bazaar, as seen from above. If one looked closely, they could see what seemed to be the dusty imprint of a large paw in the upper right hand corner. Attached to the frame was a note from the artist, charging extra, for, as she wrote,
”Bear-related mishaps.”

[Sayana]

Don't forget to edit/delete your grade request. If there's anything I may have missed, please PM me and I'll be happy to look into it.

 

Aislyn

Skills

• Planning: 4
• Fashion: 1
• Observation: 5
• Organization: 1
• Land Navigation: 1
• Spelunking: 2
• Philosophy: 1
• Drawing: 2
• Stealth: 2
• Wilderness Survival: 3
• Persuasion: 1
• Escape Artist: 2
• Running: 1

Lores

• Drabness has its own beauty, and doesn't require colour
• Basic Alvadas fashion: Go with the Illusions
• Location: The Alvadas Bizarre Bazaar
• The Alvadas bland illusion
• Cautiously skirting around a bear
• A bird's eye view of Alvadas, is this what gods see?
• Drawing: Basic rules for lighting

Comments: Cute thread. I enjoyed the random bear occurrences though I found it really difficult to figure out what skill to award for it. Ultimately I went with Wilderness Survival since she exercised good caution for dealing with the bear. She certainly does get distracted when doing her artwork.

Your Grader,

Sayana

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