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 Kolviður Aldarsson

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Posts : 4
Join date : 2018-01-27

PostSubject: Kolviður Aldarsson   Sat Jan 27, 2018 11:40 am

Sex: Male
Age: 24
Height: 6’ 5”
Race: Icelandic
Hair: White
Occupation: Sculptor/Models
Birthday: Feb.23

The dancing wisps of smoke pulled up from the Maxwell House canister perched precariously on the ledge of the easel. They swirled through the air and helped distort the beams of light piercing through my studio windows, allowing me to get a better grasp on each dark line. My pale hands became more contrasted with each charcoal stick I’d grab from the lightly rusted coffee can.

“Hmm,” I brought the cindering end of my charcoal stick and traced along her jaw. Adding more shadows under her chin in an effort to bring a worldly sense to her, as if a fallen angel caressed her mid descent into hell.

“There we have it.”

Taking a step back, I gazed  at the life I had brought into the image over the course of the last few days. The woman in the mid step catches the faintest glimpse of the figure of her dreams standing amongst a sea of faceless bodies. A radiance cast through the hazy clouds, parting the crowd just enough to lend her an unobstructed path to her destiny.

I felt the moisture building up under my eyes,

“A true romance. The life of someone who deserves to find her other half; to build a castle of admiration, trust, and stability together. Together... in a perfect unison, just as fate planned for them.” I sighed and whipped away the few loose tears.

Walking across the cotton sheets, I could feel the shavings and pieces of burnt wood against my frozen feet. Across the room stood the large cabinet in which I stored various types of wood and minerals, each causing a change in a standard charcoal stroke. Grabbing three pieces of Paper Birch and more standard Oak, I dropped them in the bottom of the can .Metallic raindrops reverberated through my studio, and I added some more oil before tossing in a match as well. The coffee tin clattered against the floor as I rotated the frame and made notes on where I will add minute amounts of watercolor. The light pools around the color and brings an additional contrast that most couldn’t achieve without washing out the different shades the charcoal brought. The smooth container glided into my hand, allowing me to concentrate on the mixing of colors to make the woman’s blush noticeable and to contrast the others in the scene.

Humming, I dabbed the brush in water and pressed into the multicolored pallets.

My studio door forcefully slammed opened causing the smoke in the room to build up towards me, before diffusing across the room.

“Kolviður! You are upsetting the fire alarms and thus you are upsetting me!” My landlord adjusted the beige boat-neck blouse, the brisk travel to address me having cause some major dishevelments. “Is this smoke or fog?!? I can barely see the outline of your furniture! Kol! Are you even listening to me? You clearly don’t have this under control!”

I pressed the metal pedal at the base of my easel, continuing to mix shades of red and white for her light features. The three windows along the wall to my left parted like elevator doors and two industrial sized fans along the right side of the room began to start up the engines. The high roaring of the fans deafened my ears to the landlord’s harsh screeching.

I began to add the rosy color along her cheeks, the smoke clearing the room in a matter of seconds. Catching the burning tin from spilling over with my left foot, I took my right off of the pedal, reverting the windows to their original place and cutting the fans power.

“Truthfully, I do have everything under control. The better question here is how did you know?” I pointed to the crate of smoke detectors in the corner, “I replaced all the smoke alarms on the floor with miniature rumbas, that way no alarm would go off and disturb my work.”

“I hid a detector in the ventilation after the fourth incid- Wait! You did what?!” She looked up and saw the little mechanical vacuum covering the whole hole.” Her complexion shifted like the sunset, growing from light red to a blood red in a span of a few seconds.

“It’s fine, everyone on this floor orders takeout 76% of the time, and the rest eat ramen cups or have microwavables. Besides this is the seventh incident, I can’t recall us sweeping any of your jejune tangents under the rug.”

“Fuck. You!” She screamed at me, “That is it, beyond the multiple infractures you just built up, you are fucking miserable and will never find anyone to love you. I thought you spilling every detail about your floor’s residents to me was worth this, but no. Fuck you and be out by tomorrow fucking morning!” The steel door shook the building with a thud, causing my canvases in the corner to fall over.

“Well, I told her in my entrance interview I liked to smoke charcoal….” Sighing, “Guess I will finish you soon my masterpiece.”
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