Solo - Day before departure.

[Niapret]

511 AV, Summer, Day 80-81

Niapret She'd decided, she'd planned, now she had only to wait. She'd leave the next night, thinking she wanted to see the island in it's nightly beauty just before she left. She'd already packed what little she owned that she could bring, the only thing left was her apartment and the few furniture she owned. She was early, she had the entire day, the entire night, and those hours she wouldn't sleep in the day after. She planned to sleep six hours in the day the next day, so she'd be rested and ready for her trip in the night. What else to do, then? Paint, of course! She opened the book to it's first empty page and began to paint. Slow careful brushes with the brush in her hand, swiping, big strokes with the same brush after cleaning and applying another color. Her painting took shape, slowly but surely. The outline of an akvari, like her, sitting on a rock in the ocean, while lazy waves lapped at the smooth rock. Then details. The figure resembled herself much more now. She added a setting suns lazy and desperate last rays, then added more details to the figure's face. It was her, but not her. It was older, it was her mother. It was to be a parting gift. She added a darker sky above the sky lit up by the slumbering sun. Almost black at the very top. she added some tiny dots of white, lighter than the white used for the foam in the water, caused by the young waves. The figure looked sad, alone, waiting. She added a light redish hue around the eyes and small tracks of white to make falling tears. The figure was grieving, acheing for something lost. The painting was done, and she left it to dry in properly, after carefully cutting out the page from the book with her dagger. Slowly and carefully. She didn't wish to harm either herself, the book or the painting.

[Niapret]

Niapret She decided she'd been still for long enough, it'd taken more than two bells to paint the small painting, as she'd done her very best with it. She looked at it, where it lie drying on the table and felt sadness and anger rise in her. She hated it, it was ugly, how was anyone supposed to tell what it was supposed to be? She was only a novice in painting, but she'd poured her soul into that particular one, and now it looked, to her, like just a undefineable mess of colors. Her mother would like it anyway, she liked any gift from Niapret. They were close, friends even. This was not because they were mother and daughter, of course, but because they got along so well. She didn't even consider making a gift for her father, nor one for her mother's present lover. They were not her friends. In fact, her mother was her only friend. She flew up and out, leaving her things in her home, and flew into the pleasantly cold waters; wearing nothing but her leatherband. Once in the water she twirled and spun, imagining a sad tune that still wasn't slow. It didn't exactly make sense, as she made it up as she went along, all the while moving in the rhytmic movement that was called dance. She vented all her frustration, all her feelings of being inadequate. It took at least another hour until she felt like resurfacing, and she sped up and shot into the air. Once she'd reached the peak of her jump, she flexed her wings and beat them mightily. She stayed airborne, and flittered slowly and casually homewards. Once back inside, she turned the dried painting over and wrote on the back. - To Der - With love, Niapret Being a novice in both calligraphy and writing, she still thought it looked decent, once she was done. Even the writing she had done carefully and as pretty as she could. Patience is a virtue, she knew, even if it was hard to learn. She wanted to paint, and paint, and paint again, and never stop! Her mother had told her to evolve all her skills, however, and one listens to friends, even if that friend happened to be one's mother. She flew to the chair and sat down, pulling the book to her and wrote on the tune she'd danced to in the water. It was hard work, because it didn't really fit like she wanted, and soon she had filled the page, but it was horrible, and she carfully cut the page out of the book. Now, it's a shame to waste, so she ignored the doodles and lines and set to folding the page in different angles, distorting it to a blob with a tail straigth up in the air. She'd tried to make a swan, but it looked nothing like it. She crunched it in her hands into a paper ball, and threw it into the hearth. Why did beauty have to be born out of much more ugly? Like flowers, who needed muddy soil to grow, or baby swans who grew up into the beautiful creatures they were meant to be?

[Niapret]

She picked up the painting carefully, and flew outside and on to her mother's apartment. No one was there, her mother must be out on an errand, or something similar. She decided to wait, but waiting was pointless and wasteful. She didn't have her painting things, and didn't feel like going all the way back to her own place to get it, only to fly back here and perhaps finding her mother returned already.

Instead, she put the painting on the bed carefully and looked aroud er mother's apartment. It was bigger than her own, and filled with things of most likely every kind. It was neatly organized, and even someone like Niapret, who had no idea what most things were, there was a rythm and reason to the entire place and everything inside. Her eyes landed on a training dummy, and realised she had promised her mother that she would train in some kind of defense before going on her journey. Well, she had the time, and didn't want to lie to her only friend..

She picked up a dagger that was plunged into the dummy, and began striking the dummy in swiping motions. She only caused small scratches, and her arms was getting tired. She put her left hand over her right for support, and continued to swipe at the dummy. It felt good to try to learn something new, and to furfill her promise to her mother, and also to be able to protect herself, should she need it. She wasn't aware how long time had passed, but it was evening and almost dark when she heard her mother behind her.

"Oh, hello Niapret! I wasn't aware you were stopping by today. I thought we were meeting tomorrow?"

Niapret, who'd been trying to yank the dagger out of the dummy, after she'd accidentally gotten it stuck there, let the dagger be and flew over to her mother, who was carrying painting-things, and helped her put the things in their place. It wasn't easy, because she was exhausted and slippery from sweating so much. She was probably more of a hindrance than a help, but her mother didn't complain.

"I was just leaving a gift for you, it's on your bed. I just got caught up in training some defence. I should go, got to rest properly. Why were you out so late, by the way?"

"Oh, got caught up in a painting, nothing special.. I'll see you tomorrow then."

Niapret recognised the dismissal and flew homewards, slowly and casually, mostly looking up and the nightsky. She realized she hadn't seen her mother's painting, that her mother had actually kept it hidden from her. Not a hard feat considering Niapret's exhaustion. She wondered whether her mother had actually painted anything at all, or just spent her time with her lover. It wouldn't be the first time she glossed over her time with her lover when speaking with Niapret, Red was a very private woman, and it wasn't Niapret's business.

[Niapret]

As she got home, she ate a little before flying over to the bed and laid down. She'd just rest a bit, not sleep yet.. Then slowly her eyes closed, she'd just rest them a little, not sleep..

Then she was in darkness and chaos, and nothing was right. There was something small and fuzzy there, and it needed her. Everything would end if it died. It looked like a fuzzy rock, was unmoving and soundless, maybe an egg? She was sure it was alive..

Then she woke up. She had vague recollections about the dream, but soon she couldn't recall it consiously at all. She stretched and flew out, where she was stunned by the beauty of the day. She decided to take her packed things and tour around Abura until night fell, and she'd leave. Her mother would look after her apartment for her, so she'd always had a home to come back to. She forgot all about the meeting she'd planned with her mother, and as such she never got to see the paining her mother had made the day before for her, as a parting gift. Instead, her mother would hang it in her apartment with a note, there for her when, or if, she came back home.

Niapret spent her day leisuring around her favorite places, just relaxing, dozing off in the shadows, and enjoying the beauty of her home, Abura. When night fell, she took one last look, held her tears in as much as she could, and flew off. It seemed like the tears had barely dried before an odd storm started way off, and she sat down to paint, but that is another story, told in another place.

[Liminal]

+2 painting
+1 dagger
+1 calligraphy

And I thought this was a really beautiful thread. Excellent evocation of the place and the people