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

[peaklordshen]

Shen Yuan is quiet for a long time. He doesn't want to just turn the conversation back to himself, but he is in a kind of unique position, in relationship to this particular complex grief. Finally, he says, "I died, before I was transported to my fictional world. My family still believe me dead. Because to them, I am." He meets her eyes. "All three of my siblings--alive, but in a world I can likely never access again."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan takes a step back, giving him a sharp, assessing look. She doesn't quite know what to say - likely there isn't anything - but questions crowd the back of her tongue anyway. Surely the specifics differ, between his experience and her family's, but - "Did it hurt?"

[peaklordshen]

Shen Yuan blinks. "Death? I—no, not that I remember." If it had, it had since faded. "I've experienced worse pain since."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Once again, Susan doesn't know what to say. She nods and takes a step forward, reaching out to rest a hand on Shen Yuan's bicep. She squeezes lightly - it's part gratitude, part apology.

[peaklordshen]

Shen Yuan smiles at her, small but real. "'Death is nothing at all. I have only slipped away to the next room.' That's—someone. English poet, I think." He looks apologetic. "I've only read it in translation." Online, in some AMV or something, almost definitely.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Still," Susan says, quietly. "I am sorry for your siblings."

[peaklordshen]

Shen Yuan nods, a little uncomfortable but grateful nonetheless. He doesn't like to think about what his siblings think happened to him, and how much it is both true and completely untrue. He doesn't know what to do with it at all. "And I for yours," he says, "for being in their kingdom without you."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Thank you." Susan hesitates for a long moment. She doesn't want all this to overtake her anticipation of her date with Lancelot tonight, but she also doesn't want to just walk away from Shen Yuan. "You really do have quite the talent."

[peaklordshen]

"Thanks," says Shen Yuan, abashed. "It's really just practice--but if you'd ever like to sit for me, let me know." He's never painted a woman before, but he'd never kissed a woman before Susan either, so he might as well be consistent.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I would," Susan says. It's been years since she's sat for a courtly portrait, and that was nine years and (if memory serves) several inches of height ago. She hesitates. Tentatively, she asks, "Did you change with your death? Physically?"

[peaklordshen]

"I--" Shen Yuan hesitates. "Yes, but it wasn't really my death that did that part, I was--my soul left my body, I guess, and I ended up in another one entirely." He eyes her curiously. "Why?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh." That's different, then. "I think I was taller. The first time I was this age."

[peaklordshen]

Shen Yuan blinks at her. "You...de-aged? And are now re-aging?" He does not think this part was in the movies.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I was a twelve-year-old girl when I first stumbled across Narnia, where I reigned as Queen for fifteen years, and yet when we returned to England, we were returned to a point mere minutes after we'd left. Twelve again." She slices her hand through the air, a sharp gesture. "It's not important. I would be interested to see how a portrait now differs from portraits then."

[peaklordshen]

"Right." Far be it from Shen Yuan to push, especially with Susan, who, he's learning, has a tendency to say exactly as much as she's willing to on any subject and no more. "Well, I'd be delighted to have you sit for me any time." He makes a little face at himself. "Maybe after I finish some of the ones I've already started, though."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan nods. "I'll let you get back to it," she says. "But when you're ready for a new subject, do let me know." She pauses, gaze flicking to his face. "I've found the book we discussed before, as well. If you'd like to read it."

[peaklordshen]

"Book--" It takes Shen Yuan a moment, and then he remembers. "Ah, right, Freud on gay people." Why the hell not. "Absolutely--we could meet up sometime in the cafe those French boys are setting up?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I know the one." And this gives Susan somewhat of a deadline. She can bring herself to read the book if she's to pass it on to someone else. "I'm nearly finished with it-" A lie, but a harmless one; she's a fast reader. She can't go finish it now though; she has plans rapidly approaching, and if all goes well, she'll be too busy to pick it up tonight. "I can pass it along to you after the talent show?"

[peaklordshen]

"Perfect," says Shen Yuan, and dips his brush in green again.