semi-open post: portraiture

[peaklordshen]

After shifting his way through oil pastels, watercolors, house paint, colored pencils, and an endless variety of paint markers, Shen Yuan has finally managed to get the Mansion to produce a decent set of oil paints, and—wonder of wonders—an easel. He's set up in a spacious, well-lit hall, probably for dancing or salons or whatever, where he's arranged a bunch of furniture in various configurations—wooden screens that he's draped cloth¹ over for backdrops; armchairs stolen from the lounge, wooden stools and high-backed dining chairs from the kitchens; even a lovely chaise lounge in a deep purple that he wistfully thinks he won't actually use, because it would definitely be for Aleksander, and he doubts he'll be doing that entry in his protagonists of the Mansion series after all. He has one of the stools pulled up next to the easel to hold his paints, and is wearing a wide-necked sweater over a black turtleneck and some loose, worn jeans that already have a few flecks of paint on them from when he was doing his color tests.² He's pulled his hair back in a practical bun, and he's currently laying down a layer of gesso on his canvas.

¹ Look, he has to do something with all of those robes he accidentally conjured in his last post.
² After days of feeling very lost and confused about how he's not required to LARP anymore, he's pretty much decided that it actually means he can just change who he's LARPing as at will, and the main way to do this is through fashion. Today he is An Artist.

[Primarily for those Shen Yuan has offered to paint, but anyone else is also welcome to come bother him while he works.]

Comments

[timebethine]

Laertes has been looking for a room in which a dance might be held (his sole concession to guilt over making Claudius plan his entire wedding celebration). His first thought as he steps into the big room is how perfect it would be for the purpose--so big and bright, with high ceilings and chandeliers and a wall of windows to let the sunlight in. Only after a few moments of taking in that gorgeous light does he realize that the room is occupied. "Shen Qingqiu!" he says, looking him up and down. "Thou hast changed thy stripes. Thy habit looks well on thee."

[peaklordshen]

Shen Yuan looks up, smiling at him. "Laertes," he says. "Thank you. I used to wear things more like this, in my first--in the first world I was in. I don't mind the robes, but I'd like to find a balance, and for things like this--" he gestures at the canvas, "--the sleeves really get in the way."

[timebethine]

"No doubt! I awakened here, arrayed as thou seest me now--" his gesture takes in jeans, t-shirt, well-worn combat boots "--and have greatly enjoyed the convenience. Although I do at times feel lewd and underdressed in such thin fabric," he admits. "What dost thou paint?"

[peaklordshen]

Shen Yuan grins at him. "You'd look right at home on the streets of any modern city," he tells him. "But yes--it can be a little vulnerable." He makes a face. "The outfit I wore when I first got here had seven layers of robes. It's no wonder I have so much more time to fill, here, than I did back on Qing Jing--I save hours every morning just getting out of bed."

He turns the easel so Laertes can see. "Speaking of filling the time--nothing, yet. Just preparing the canvas. But--do you happen to have some time, now, actually? Can I ask you a favor, or are you rushing off to perfect another recipe?"

[onthewillowsthere]

That morning, Claudius helped him bend and wire together a branch of myrtle into a crown, and now Galahad is here with it, and a few other things, bundled into his arms, keeping an appointment that's been long coming.

He does smile when he sees Shen Yuan, lifting a hand to sign hello.

[peaklordshen]

Shen Yuan stands up, setting his paintbrush back in the easel so he can sign hello, back with a smile, and then, slightly less smoothly, Galahad's name. "What have you brought?" he asks aloud, curiously, coming over to see what he has in his arms.

[onthewillowsthere]

He puts everything down on one of the stolen chairs so he can show Shen Yuan: the myrtle crown, the jade green robe he took from Shen Yuan's clothing explosion, and a box with a pair of clip-on earrings, oval pearl drops that match the white blossoms of the myrtle.

[peaklordshen]

"Oh, beautiful," exclaims Shen Yuan. "This is perfect. Do you want help styling the robe? Do you know how it goes?"

[summerdude]

Magnus... hasn't forgotten about Shen Yuan's offer to paint him, or anything, but he's become a bit of a wild child over the past week: constantly barefoot; in beige summery clothes that are comfortable enough to double as pajamas. Talking about trees with Ragnelle reminded him of his childhood climbing trees until the point where the branches could barely hold his weight, and between the specter of his room and the overwhelming closeness of being inside, Magnus has really only been in the Mansion to grab a quick shower and to replenish his food supplies. Otherwise, the closest he's come is hanging out with Galahad near the more manicured of the gardens to practice sign. The rest of the time he's spent in the thick of the woods: in his favorite clearing, reading and thinking and processing; up the tallest trees he can find without infringing on the parts he pointed out to Ragnelle, breathing and swaying; and listening to the conversations of the birds as they chatter about food and nests and the approaching winter. The fresh air is good, cleansing; out here, he can actually fall asleep on his own accord.

He's sort of lost track of the days? But his hair is feeling a little gross -- he hasn't bothered with a brush; there's this whole bark/sap situation -- and while he still has enough food for another few days, he wants falafel. So he's girding his loins (read: gripping Lan Wangji's jade pendant) and slipping back into the Mansion for a resupply.

He gets his falafel sandwich but takes a wrong turn on the way to the unclaimed washroom he's been using -- it has a shower that, strangely, reminds him of the YWCA shelter's gymnasium, which he'd stayed at once in the first month after his mom died, and the Mansion has started to supply more t-shirts and pants in his size in the towel cabinet there -- and stumbles across Shen Yuan's painting setup, and thinks: oh. Right.

He waves, swallowing the bite of falafel he's working on, and concentrates on seeming normal. "Hey dude."

[peaklordshen]

"Magnus," says Shen Yuan, and takes him in, mildly surprised. "Is this... an aesthetic choice you're making for the portrait? Or are you just, um," not bathing, "doing this, now?" He's keeping his voice non-judgmental; Magnus enjoys beige, he knows that. He's having a hard time not telling him to put on shoes, though. Major Sha Hualing vibes on that front!! Who cares if you have summer and/or desert powers and won't get cold, rocks are still sharp!!

[summerdude]

Magnus takes in everything about Shen Yuan and the array of stuff here. "I was climbing a tree," he says, vaguely, gingerly touching where sap has stuck so much bark to his hair. What was it that they had talked about when they were helping Shen Yuan get ready for his date? It was just a week or so ago, but it feels like a lifetime. "I was... heading to go clean up and put on the dress?"

The dress, which is in the room he doesn't go to anymore. Whoops.

[peaklordshen]

Shen Yuan blinks at him, and stands up. "We don't have to do this today," he says. "If you're not, like, feeling it. There's no rush." He comes over to Magnus, lifting a hand to where Magnus had touched and feeling the sap for himself. "How... long were you climbing a tree for?"

[sagramore]

Sagramore is in a slightly better frame of mind, probably? Probably. Admittedly he's been avoiding all his friends since the zombie battle, because now that the endorphins have worn off he's been too embarrassed about the truth spell and sad about Asmodean want to be around anyone except Laertes. This in itself makes things worse, because he's an extrovert and he loves being around people -- he doesn't like being alone in his room, he likes knowing how everyone is, checking in with his people, talking and flirting and visiting with his friends.

When he spots Shen Yuan, then, his first impulse is to call out to him, ask how he is, how things are with Luo Binghe -- and that impulse, ultimately, wins out.

He comes over, saying warmly, "Bro!"

[peaklordshen]

When he sees Sagramore enter the hall Shen Yuan quickly covers the canvas he'd been working on with a cloth, as naturally as he can. He sets it aside--thankfully it wasn't wet, he'd been staring at it too long-and sets up the painting of Galahad instead. He's working on the hands--something about the contrast of them, the scarred flesh vs the unscarred, just still isn't right.

"Bro," he greets him with a smile, and stands to give him a quick hug. There's something odd about it--about when he pulls back, a dodge he doesn't have to do, an unconscious motion he doesn't have to take--and he realizes it's because for once Sagramore isn't holding something to drink, neither booze nor his thick, dark coffee. "How are you?"

[sagramore]

He hugs back, less quick, a hard squeeze of an embrace. "I suppose I'm all right. How are you?"

[peaklordshen]

Shen Yuan narrows his eyes at him, but lets him get away with the non-answer for the moment. They'll circle back. Sagramore is like a skittish horse, with emotions. Or, like, what Shen Yuan imagines a skittish horse would be like. He doesn't actually know shit about horses, and probably shouldn't be using metaphors about them about guys who do know shit about horses. But regardless, for the purposes of the metaphor, Sagramore is like a skittish horse: you have to approach him sideways, pretending that you're there for your own purposes, and only when you're close enough can you reach out and touch his snout. Of... genuine vulnerability. Or whatever.

This is why Shen Yuan does visual art. "I'm good," he says, and is surprised to find he means it. "I finally got this place to give me the right paints I wanted, so I've been," he gestures at the portrait, "practicing. Thankfully the one thing we don't lack around here is charismatic subjects for portraits."

[temnota]

After the one-two punch that was the truth spell and the zombie uprising, Aleksander had made himself scarce around the Mansion. He'd shared too much and felt too much and hiding away until he could regain some semblance of control seemed the best course of action.

When he stuck his head into the room and saw Shen Yuan, he had more or less pulled himself together. Guiltily, he remembered he had agreed to sit for a portrait and wondering if that had been something else the truth spell was responsible for ruining.

Still, there was no reason not to greet him so Aleksander offered him a smile and a wave. "How goes the painting?"

[peaklordshen]

Oh, shit, he is here! Okay, Shen Yuan, he thinks to himself. You've got this. Just be normal. Be completely normal with the very hot brooding antihero who wanted to kiss you during a truth spell. At least Aleksander almost definitely doesn't want to kiss him anymore, even if it had ever been more than a passing whim, given his rejection and how unbelievably awkward their fight with the zombies had been.

He smiles back, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "Good," he says, and then corrects himself, "well—I want to burn everything I've painted to the ground and start again in an entirely new medium, but from what I remember that's a pretty normal part of the artistic process."

[temnota]

"That is my understanding as well, though I admit to not having that much experience outside of cartography and the occasional sketches," Aleksander said, very amused. "I think that is part of any artistic process. The materialki often run into this when they are creating something new - they want it to be perfect and will keep fiddling with it until I have to take it away and tell them that it is fine, please stop fiddling with it or we will never produce enough in time."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan hasn't been so thoroughly kissed in ages. Embarrassingly, she actually feels a little dazed with it, honestly: wanting more, while also letting herself relish in just that exchange. She wonders if it's visible on her face, or just in her hair: she re-braided it, after she left Lancelot, but it was a haphazard job, and she left it hanging down her back instead of winding it into its usual crown.

She's stowed the picnic supplies back in the kitchen and retrieved her copy of Freud's Civilization and Its Discontents. For some reason, it holds slightly less appeal than it did that morning. Only slightly, though; she's on a chapter about the sublimation of anal eroticism into both order and discontent which she finds fascinating on several levels.

Preoccupied both by pressing a hand to the raw tingle of her lips and her thoughts of the book, she wanders into an unfamiliar part of the Mansion, where she sees -

"Shen Qingqiu!"

[peaklordshen]

Shen Yuan looks up from his easel, where he's diligently delineating individual leaves from the mass of green at the edges of Magnus' forest portrait. "Shen Yuan, now, please," he says, just to start them off on the right foot. "I'm making a change." He looks her up and down. She seems far more relaxed, now, somehow more of a real person than the first time they met. He wonders if that's actually how she's feeling, or if he's just not hollowing her out anymore into a stereotype of Beautiful and Sensible Woman. "Still Susan?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Still Susan," she confirms, coming over to look at his work. Then, testing the name out: "Shen Yuan. I didn't know you painted."

To be fair, she knows very little about him: just that he's good at kissing, likely a homosexual, and in touch with his anima. Perhaps the name change is in line with that? But she won't ask; that's gauche.

[ravkanwitch]

Nina has figured out how to use the blender (!!) and make milkshakes in the kitchen, so she's currently wandering through the halls drinking a strawberry milkshake and looking for someone to chat with when she happens upon Shen Yuan's set-up. She automatically blocks his thoughts from her mind the best that she can, though it doesn't always work. She watches him for a moment, doing her best to not disturb him.

"Hi," she says, when there's a good break. "I didn't know that you painted!"

[peaklordshen]

Shen Yuan looks up, startled. He'd been deep in concentration—trying to outline the gold patterns on Alexander's kefta in a way that actually makes them look woven in, and not just painted on, which is hard, because he is literally painting them on. "Nina," he says, and feels a weird wave of nerves and relief at once. It's a sign, it must be, that she came in while he was working on this painting specifically. "Hello." He turns the canvas, a little, so she can see—Aleksander, resplendent in black and gold, lounging on the purple setee that currently sits a few feet in front of them. "I'm getting back into practice."

Please ask me about this guy, he thinks, loudly, because I am dying of not being able to share something with anyone but I also can't say it out loud and I shouldn't tell you because what if you tell Binghe but also like I said I am dying of it!!!

[ravkanwitch]

Nina hears some sort of yelling in her head but she can't quite make it out because she's staring at the painting that's in progress. The Darkling. In his black kefta. The Darkling in his black kefta? Really?? Of all things for Shen Yuan to be painting right now? The surprise of it causes her to do an actual small spit-take with her strawberry milkshake and it goes down the wrong way; she coughs a couple of times before being able to speak.

"What--" She manages to choke out. She coughs one more time and composes herself slightly. "What...a beautiful painting," is what she manages to say, quite weakly.