» she saw the pictures and painted them

[thenormalsquint]

Who: Angela and You. YES, YOU!
What: Come be drawn like one of her French girls.
Where: A street corner a few blocks away from the inn.
When: Early Misdi afternoon
Warnings: The warning is... it's Angela.



On this chilly, yet sunny afternoon, Angela Montenegro can be seen walking down on of Baedal’s many streets, dragging behind her is a little red wagon filled to the brim with art supplies. Where she got the wagon isn't important; what is important, however, is what Angela's planning on doing with the equipment.

Setting up is done quickly and easily with the finesse of a pro (this isn't her first rodeo, kids.) One sketchpad is placed on an easel and flipped to a clean page where Angela scribbles in thick black marker:

ART DONE BY PARIS TRAINED ARTIST – 6 SHEKELS EACH PORTRAIT

She stands back and eyes her handiwork before an almost evil grin spreads across her face. And in smaller, but not too small, letters, Angela writes the words:

NUDES ARE WELCOME. 1 MARK.

And in even smaller letters:

PLEASE HELP ME NOT STARVE. SUPPORT THE ARTS!

And in almost illegible letters towards the bottom right corner of the page:

Please? I don't want to do death masks anymore. ):

Comments

[andyoullmissit]

Clarice smiles, grateful for how understanding Angela seems to be. "True. I guess Baedal's it's own thing in some ways, and I'm still just not used to it." Mutants - or xenians generally - coexisting with humans under at least the pretense of civility.

[thenormalsquint]

"It could be a worse place, I guess. Like Hell." So she says. It could be Hell right now but it just hasn't shown Angela's it's true face yet, who knows. But for now, Angela's going to try and look on the bright side of things.

[andyoullmissit]

"Been there," she says, and though she's smiling, it's grim. She's really not interested in digging up her time in the pens, though, so she makes it a joke. "Fewer restaurants and uglier law enforcement."

[thenormalsquint]

"I'm sure it's closer to D.C. than Paris," Angela adds, trying to further the uncomfortable joke to set Blink at ease. "Anyway, I'm done. You can look now."

On the pad is a sketched out version of Blink, hood down and in full color.

[andyoullmissit]

Clarice comes around to see, and smiles, then, leaving the unpleasant thought behind. "Oh that's lovely. Thank you." Images seems such ephemeral things to her; she's never owned a photograph of someone she cared for, let alone a portrait.

Maybe she'll eventually have someone who cares to have an image of her, but if not, it's a well-done piece that's its own reward.

She pulls out her coins, plus a tip. "I don't know many people here, but I'll be sure to send anyone looking for art your way."

[thenormalsquint]

"Nothing like word of mouth to drum up business." Angela carefully removes the portrait from the pad and rolls it up neatly, handing it over to Blink. "Don't be a stranger."

[andyoullmissit]

"Or you." She takes it. "Thanks again."