Trying to Draw (Solo)

[Maya Frostfawn]

Timestamp: Fall 10, 523 AV Location: Maya's Flat Darkness had yet to fully fall; the sun was low in the sky and its weak rays filtered in through the filthy window that lay over the nuit's shoulder. Its pale light casting long shadows and just enough illumination for the nuit to work by. It would not last long, but Maya hoped it was just enough to help her stave off boredom a little longer. It was difficult sometimes, being undead, for reasons one would not imagine. Having to find new bodies was difficult, sure, but so too was the inevitable boredom that came with an endless amount of waking hours, time that stretched on so far into the distance it was entirely impossible to count. Boredom was something she had felt often of late, and something she wished not to endure, at least for a little while longer, although she knew it would come and claim her soon enough. Make her feel as though she were drowning, although she had lacked working lungs for quite some time now. Maya pulled her chair farther toward her lopsided table, and flipped open to the first blank page of her book. Drawing was a hobby she had come by more recently, something that could easily eat up a few hours if she let it, and the skill she wished to practice by the sun's dying light. So, she reached for her quill, pinched it between her fingers, dipped it into her vial of ink before wiping the tip so it wouldn't drip everywhere and prepared to draw what lay right in front of her. She began by drawing a line from the left side of the blank page to the right; the sound of the quill scratching against the pale yellow paper tickled her ears. She watched the ink run from the central line she had drawn, seep into the page as she raised her quill. The line wasn't straight, she realized; there were a few bumps in the middle and it tilted downward and to the right. That part was accurate at least. She sighed, before adding the table's legs, two lines coming out of the first. One on either end of the line, but not quite touching the edge. Headed down toward the bottom of the page from that first line. When she raised her quill again after drawing both lines to complete the table she was attempting to depict, she realized that her drawing looked like a lopsided square that was missing its final line. She sighed. Maybe thickening, and going back over some of these lines would help, she thought, as she refreshed the ink on her quill before going back over the lines she had made, causing them to grow thicker. When she surveyed her work again, she thought they still looked funny, so she took a moment to really study her lopsided table by pushing her seat out to look at it before pulling her seat back in. Her observations allowed her to notice that the table's main surface was perhaps two inches thick, with the legs being a bit wider than that. They started thicker, at the top, before tapering off a bit at the bottom, growing skinnier. They were about three inches wide at their base, Maya guessed, as she considered how best to portray this upon the page with her limited skill. She decided to begin with the table's surface, widening the line a little by going back over it several times, while also leaving a little space between some of the lines, as though to portray the grains within the wood that made up the table itself. From there, she immediately moved onto adjusting the table's legs, without taking another look at the top of the table. She went over the lines she had made previously with several scratches of her quill against the paper, before adding a few that began a tad to the inside of the farthest inner line to reflect how the legs were wider at the top than the bottom. Although she kept the line she drew down from the surface of the table relatively straight, she did edge them inward a little to reflect the true nature of her lopsided table's legs. When she was done adding several strokes to the drawing she had begun, she took a moment to survey her work and realized that she had made the length of the legs a bit too even. Her table was lopsided after all, but her picture didn't display as much. The table could not lean if its legs were the same length, she realized, so she went back over the leg she had drawn on the right side of the page, making it a bit longer than the leg on the left, even though this reflected the opposite of what existed in real life. When she was done, she took a moment to study her work again and realized that the table simply looked like it had two different-sized legs, not that it was lopsided or leaning. It looked like she simply couldn't draw even lines, not that she had tried to do something on purpose and she wasn't quite sure how to fix it. Word Count: 871

[Maya Frostfawn]

After taking a few moments to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she considered the poor nature of her work, Maya realized that she would have to revamp her drawing a little bit if she wanted it to accurately portray the lopsided table her flat contained. To begin, she reworked the surface of the table by drawing a line that slanted downward in the direction she wished the table to lean. This line hovered a mere fraction of a centimeter from the lines she had drawn previously. When she was drawn drawing this bumpy line, she connected it to the others by drawing a series of connecting lines beneath it, drawing everything she had done together. When she was done, she had a series of thick, negative lines from which a pair of uneven lines sprouted. As she tilted her head to survey it, she realized it was better than before, but she had probably made the surface too thick and drawn the lines too closely together. She would probably not be able to go back later and add in the grains the table's wood possessed. No matter, this was a learning experience, to which there appeared to be quite a curve and to which she imagined she would have to dedicate a great deal of time before she became any good with the quill and this craft, her newfound hobby. When she was done assessing her work, she dipped the tip of her quill back in the ink and then brushed it off on the edge of the vial so it wouldn't drip everywhere. As soon as she had finished doing that, she went to work on the two table legs. She added to the lines she had made previously, drawing new lines beside those she had made only minutes before. They wibbled and wobbled and served to thicken the legs she had begun to draw. When she was done, they looked a tad more lopsided than before when the table's surface was considered alongside them, and she smiled at her work. She was making progress. Even if it was extremely slow progress. For a moment, she set her quill aside, letting it rest in the ink vial as she studied her work. The art was definitely imperfect, and it lacked depth, which she felt she could add with additional components such as the table's surrounding and by casting its shadow. She decided to begin with its shadow, so she pushed away from the table to really look at it, commit its sight to memory, for its image would change as the sun continued to sink beyond the horizon. Its shadow was long and thin. Thick beneath its legs and paler as it stretched beyond. It looked as crooked as the table and lay on the floor in a slant. Such was the nature of shadow, she realized as she pulled back into the table to continue her work. Maya began by pulling the quill out of its vial and making sure it was sufficiently dry before continuing her work. She began by drawing two tiny circles beneath her table's legs to represent the base of the shadow, before drawing diagonal lines out of each of those points that led up to the upper-right hand corner of the page, past the table's surface. As she drew them, they passed through the surface and came through the other side. It looked kind of funny, she realized, and hoped she could adjust it later, although she knew not how at that moment. When she was done with the slanting shadow lines that were meant to represent the table's legs, she added a slanted line that represented the table's surface. They inched out of the top of each of the lines she had just drawn, and since she could not pull her hand away quickly enough to keep the ink from running farther than she intended, a bit past the right leg. She would really have to be more careful in the future, she realized, as she studied her work and quickly realized that she had forgotten an integral part of the table, and was surprised she hadn't picked up on it earlier, when she had studied her work before. The table didn't have two legs; it had four. And although it was a bit hard to make some of them out if you were looking directly at it from any direction, they were still there and could not be excluded. She would have to add them in if she wanted to have a remotely accurate depiction of the table. So, she hastily drew some more lines in, close to the ones she had made before, so they were practically hidden behind them. These would serve to represent the two table legs she had neglected previously. Word Count: 808

[Maya Frostfawn]

Unfortunately, Maya being an artist completely devoid of talent, the additional lines she added to represent the remaining table legs wound up blending with those she had made previously, as opposed to appearing to be separate entities somewhat obscured by the presence of the others. Thus, the table legs she had drawn seemed like thick, conjoined entities. A pair rather than a quartet. Maya squinted at her work; there was nothing she could do to correct it now. She would simply have to construct this extra thick table for practice, and keep what she learned here in mind for the next time she attempted to pass the time by drawing. So, she refilled her quill with ink again before adding additional lines to the table legs' shadow. Thickening them. Then she added another set, which extended from the base of where the other legs she had neglected previously were supposed to be toward the top right-hand corner of the page. That was a mistake; they blended with their brethren and made the shadow seem way too thick. The table was thick too, but the legs were even thicker, if that was possible, which Maya supposed it was, given what lay before her on the table. But again, there was nothing she could do about it now; she had to simply keep plowing forward and appreciate this moment, this learning experience, this chance to practice a craft that she wanted to pick up. A craft that could help pass the time that stretched before her feet like an endless carpet. Since she had thickened the table legs' shadow, and added those for the pair she had neglected before, she realized that she also had to thicken the lines that formed the shadow of the table's surface. She had to mirror the thickness of the mess she created, and quickly scratched several more bumpy lines across the page in ink that naturally thickened and thinned depending on how hard she pressed down on the paper with her quill. When she was done adding those lines, she set the quill down in the vial of ink again so she could study her work and the mess she had made of it. She blinked as a thought crossed her mind. It's as though I were trying to draw a cube and couldn't quite figure out the lines... or I simply ran out of ink and never finished my work. But given the thickness of them, I imagine the first is more likely. A pause. At least it was good practice. But there was still light, still time. Time to kill and time to practice, so she decided she would add some of the other elements of her flat into the drawing to help complete the picture and to practice as well. She decided she would begin with her floor. Thus, she reached for her quill and drew a line that cut through the table's legs, roughly halfway down their length. Everything below that line, she decided, would be the floor, and everything above it would constitute the walls and everything that rested against their surface or within the air that surrounded her. To keep things simple, Maya drew a series of roughly straight lines below the first she decided would represent the floor. They were all about a centimeter apart, and stretched from one side of the page to the other and also, crept down the length of the page until there was no where left to go. When she was done, she drew a few speckles between each of the lines to represent dust; they were quick dabs of her quill against the page. Dots. Some were larger than others, and some were less circular than others. Appearing more like a sprinkle, a small rectangular, than the roughly circular, fluffy grey bits she was attempting to depict. She kept adding them for a few moments until her arm grew tired of the quick dabs, and she set her quill down on the table so she could take a quick break. Stretch out her fingers. Give her hand, which was beginning to cramp, a rest. Her arm, which ached, a rest. Give her a chance to study her work and see what she should try and do to make the picture better next. What she realized, was that the floor didn't look even remotely like her floor. It was just some lines with dots between them and she wasn't sure how to fix it. So, she was going to leave mastering the drawing of floors for another day, when she had more skill and an idea as to how to depict them properly. For now, she would fill in the space both around and above the table with the things that surrounded her until she ran out of light in which to draw. She couldn't imagine it would be much fun in the dark. Word Count: 822

[Maya Frostfawn]

Maya decided she'd work on the walls next. To do so, she took a moment to study the depths of her flat to help determine where best to place the lines that would represent them in her drawing before retrieving her quill from the table's surface, refreshing the ink on the quill, and then resuming her attempt at drawing the room she found herself in. To begin, she drew a series of lines stretching from the top of the page to the space where the floor began. These lines would represent the boundaries of her flat, the walls. To capture the shadows and cobwebs that clung to their corners, she drew a series of lines that stemmed from the top of each line that represented a corner, a contour of the wall. They would grow out of that central line as though they were the veins of a leaf growing out of its central artery. It stem. They would inch downward toward the bottom of the page, and not extend more than a centimeter in length. Since they would grow out of each side of that central line representing the wall, she hoped that they would accurately depict the deepness of the darkness, the shadow. When she was done drawing all of these tiny lines, which would edge down the length of the page no more than an inch from its top, she took a moment to study what she had done and realized there was a sort of feather-like quality to the shadows she had just added to her drawing. She dipped her quill back into the ink, took a moment to let the excess drip into the vial before raising the quill out of the glass and bringing it back to the page she was working on. As she held the quill over the paper, letting it hover perhaps an inch over the page, a drop of ink splattered onto her drawing. A tiny burst of black, as dark as coal or a raven's feathers. It was like an explosion of darkness, dust, but far too large. She tried to swipe at it with her bare finger. Bat it away, but it only extended the darkness over the surface of the page. It was like a dark, wispy cloud hovered over the surface of her drawn living space. Frustrating, but there was no way to fix it. She lacked the skills and the tools, if any such thing existed. She would have to ask someone more gifted in the art of creating art whenever she found the time. Whenever she found someone like that. But for now, she would continue by adding the cobwebs into the corners, so that they clung to the edge of each of the walls. She took a moment to study them as the last of the sun's light caught on their silver threads; they were so delicate, like strands of lace held far apart. Strands of silk. She would have to touch the page delicately with her quill in order to capture their likeness properly, their light and gentle nature. As sticky as they were. She began by drawing a line that followed the length of one of those she had drawn previously, a line that extended from one of those meant to represent the wall's shadow, toward the beginning of another wall's side. The line crawled diagonally downward, toward the right side of the page. It wobbled, and was thicker in some areas than others, as though she had pressed the quill down onto its surface to different degrees. Sometimes harder, sometimes softer. Causing the ink to seep more heavily into some portions of the page than others. When she raised her quill again, she quickly put it back down on the page, drawing a line that moved in the opposite direction of the one she had just drawn to begin the spider's web. When she was done, she had finished drawing an X, with one side of its body being a tad longer than the other. From there, she drew another X within that X, but one that allowed her to see the other lines she had already drawn to make the web. Slowly, she continued to weave the web by drawing a rough circle that connected each of the lines together. Then, another smaller one within that, and then another within that one and so on and so forth, until there was no more room to draw circles. When she was done, she got up from her seat and did what she should have done before she started drawing the web; she studied it up close, and realized that all of those circular lines she had drawn to represent the inner web should have been connected. They weren't separate threads holding the web together, but one long thread. She supposed it would look funny if she tried to connect them now, so she would simply have to build them that way, with a single connective thread holding them together, in the future. Word Count: 842

[Maya Frostfawn]

After having taken the time to study the webs that littered her home up close, Maya returned to her seat to wrap up her drawing. She quickly pulled in her chair, made herself comfortable, and retrieved her quill so she could finish her drawing. As soon as she had taken a moment to refresh the ink on her quill, Maya set to work by adding in several more cobwebs to her drawing. Drawing connected sets of X's before binding those together with winding threads to create the spider's webs. She made four altogether, and to her, they seemed to dominate the top of her composition. Perhaps she should have considered that before she continued drawing, she realized, too late, but she was just a novice and this was just practice, a good learning experience. Next, she was going to attempt to add some dancing dust motes to the open air. She was hoping that the practice would not only make her art stronger overall, but take up a lot of the open space that lingered between the table and the cobwebs. Of course, in real life, there was a lot of open space between those things, but for whatever reason, she wanted to fill it in a bit more on the page. Perhaps to draw attention away from the unevenness of the rest of the composition? She wasn't entirely sure. But whatever the case, she refilled her quill with ink, dabbed it to let the excess off within the ink vial, before drawing the quill back over to the page so she could continue her work. Maya began to dab at the page with the tip of the quill. She tried to do it lightly, so that the spot she left on the page wouldn't be too large, so the ink wouldn't have the time to bleed into it. She was met with a mixed degree of success. Some of the flecks that were meant to be dust were larger than others. Some were more ovular than others. Some even seemed rectangular in nature. In any case, when she set her quill aside, she realized that it didn't seem like dust but a large number of tiny mistakes that she could not fix because of the permanent nature of ink. Furthermore, she realized that there was too much going on on the page now. There was basically no open space in which to draw and it was a bit difficult to look at. Also, some of the ink had begun to bleed through the page, she realized, as she turned it over. It was showing through quickly, and there were a few specks on the page below that as well. With that, she put her supplies away and closed the book, to try again another day now that the sun had fallen and it was basically impossible for her to see, the world being engulfed in both darkness and shadow. Word Count: 490