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Post by Nikolai Arlovskaya on Apr 30, 2012 5:13:24 GMT -5
There weren't many things that Nikolai truly liked, and some of them he kept was a secret. One of those things was that he actually did enjoy painting. He walked into the art room and carefully choose his tools. 'Alright, I have the canvas, the brushes and the paints, let's begin.'
The tools they had here were pretty pitiful, but he didn't care, as long as he could paint, anything would be fine. He started painting skillfully, back home, he was used to paint a lot. He remembered about his stepmother yelling at him because she didn't knew what to do with so many paintings. Now that he was away from home, she probably had sold them to get some money.
Once he finished, the white of the canvas was replaced by a family painting. He didn't paint his stepmother, he instead painted his dead mother, or at least he painted her the way he remembered she was.
He sighed in annoyance, what would he do with this painting? He couldn't possibly let it there, what if someone found out his secret love for art?
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Post by Yao Wang on May 5, 2012 5:27:12 GMT -5
Idly walking by out of sheer boredom, Yao comes across the doorway to what must be the art room, if the tall guy with the paint was anything to go by. Why are there so many tall people here? After a quick glance at his work (Huh, he's pretty good,) he gets a little dizzy from his headache. Following his better judgement, he figures that being closer to the floor, and therefore much less likely to fall over, is a rather decent idea. Back against the wall just outside the art room, he slowly slides down, frowning just a touch, and draws his knees in to lay his head against.
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Post by Nikolai Arlovskaya on May 8, 2012 13:37:41 GMT -5
Nikolai sighed, deciding that he should take it back to his room and hide it under the bed. And so he walked out of the art room, only to find the other against the wall. Had he seen his painting or something? He hoped not. The Belorussian clearly didn't need the useless people around here to find out about this.
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Post by Yao Wang on May 9, 2012 13:17:14 GMT -5
Yao is almost glad the tall guy is leaving; he'd rather investigate the art room alone. As soon as Tall Guy is out of sight, he slips inside. The room smells overwhelmingly of non-toxic acrylic paints and crayons, and he finds himself feeling close to relieved. It's strangely tinged with something painful, as if he's staring right at a of prize he'll never claim. Stupid. A pine box shoots across the room and bursts in a smattering of colors against the wall. He's tempted to throw another box, but his headache is back. Dropping himself into a chair in the corner, he groans unhappily and kicks at the colored pencils all over the floor. I hate this place.
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Post by Nikolai Arlovskaya on May 14, 2012 12:50:24 GMT -5
Nikolai heard noise on the art room, at first he tried to ignore it, but then it became insupportable. He loved art, and as an artist he didn't like people throwing away art tools, so he just put his painting on ground and went to check the art room.
He blinked, twice. The art room was a total mess! "What the f*ck did you do to this room?! I-It's...It's a real mess!" He sighed and began to pick up the colored pencils and other things from the ground, his OCD kicking in.
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