⟨ status: complete ⟩
"They say artists are nothing but sad people, unaccepted by society of who they are. Masking themselves in 'personas' to fit in." She turned to him, placing her beloved paintbrush on the table with her face adorning a beautiful...
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ACT I: SUMMER SKIES
Drip, drip, drip, let the paint drip on the blank canvas. Let one's mind be free of strife, as they mindlessly stroke upon the canvas. Tap, tap, tap, the soft sound of the paintbrush kissing the lid of the small container of paint truly sings a beautiful melody to her ears. My, how therapeutic.
"(Y/N)?" Her mother softly called, leaning against the doorframe- arms crossed, with a soft smile on her face. She watched her daughter break out of her artsy trance and slowly lower her paintbrush to turn to her, her beloved child's face still as stoic as ever. She couldn't help but snort at the uncanny resemblance to her husband, who is as lovably stoic and emotionally constipated as her daughter. (Y/N) simply sat there, slightly tilting her head in confusion, wondering what her Mamí found funny.
"Aha, it's nothing Mija. I just came here to remind you that to not forget to take Niko out in the town square today; he's been raring to go and play with his friends as of late."
Peppering her daughter with kisses before turning to leave the room, she had always been such an affectionate mother. Too affectionate to the point (Y/N) would just stiffen up like a log as her mother smothers her with hugs and kisses in public. The poor teen likes hugs and kisses but not in public! Her Papí would certainly agree with her.
Picking up and fixing her things, she readied herself to go. A sketchbook and a pencil was all that she needed to bring in this little venture- besides her little brother of course. As she made her descent on the stairs, she was immediately met with an overly enthusiastic hug from her little brother.
"(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Are you ready to go out now hermana?"
"Of course, Niko. Sorry to keep you waiting, let's go, best not to keep your friends waiting now, do we?"
She sat on a nearby bench listening to the the townfolk's mirthful chattering whilst she scribbled away. Her ears perked up at the sound of her brother's joyful laughter, she looked up to see one of the Madrigals, Camilo (or 'Cheeky Chameleon' she'd always call him, as she's bad at remembering names.) shapeshifting to different people amusing the children.
She couldn't help but notice the tiredness in his eyes as he played around with the kids, it was almost unnoticeable if not for her spending to much time observing her surroundings whilst she draws. Taking note of minut details, as to make her drawings 'come to life' as her mother would always say about her art.
'Knowing the subject is quite important, if your subject is human, then make it human. Give it life. Capture, feel the very essence of what makes it alive; integrate it to your art, and draw.'
With a flick of her wrist she sketched her subject, from the curly light brown locks that framed his freckled face to the chameleon patterned poncho that he wore everyday. Yet something is still missing, something she couldn't quite put a finger on.
'In drawing a live subject, you must take note of their emotions, try feel their emotions yourself to get a better grip on what they're feeling. Look on a mirror if you have to-'
Glancing on her reflection, the window pane near her, showing the very emotion she's feeling as of the moment. Her dainty hand reached to touch her face, dissatisfied and unsurprised at what she saw; a face devoid of emotion, emotionally constipated her mother lovingly calls. What she feels didn't quite reach her face as she honestly felt very happy to be out and about in town right now.
"But what if I can't?" She mumbles, focusing her attention back at her sketchbook, hands touching the graphite on the paper. Unbeknownst to her, Camilo caught sight of the unusual girl by the bench sketching and doodling her life away. A small tug on his poncho made him divert his attention from the odd girl to a little boy, age not far from his brother, Antonio's.
"That's my big sister, (Y/N)! Wanna meet her, Camilo? She makes very cool and awesome drawings, like trees and stuff!"
Trees, mhm yes trees are very awesome and cool.
Camilo almost blurted out if not for the child pushing him to (Y/N)'s direction. Eyes fixated on her sketchbook, she stared at her drawing. She couldn't help but feel unsatisfied at her art, frustrated at herself of being unable to capture the emotion she wanted to portray. Cons of being emotionally constipated I guess, with a sigh she looked up at whoever's beside her, only to meet face to face with herself.
Scary.
Was the first thought on the girl's mind, to suddenly look up and see the exact copy of you was certainly startling for the teen. Yet she couldn't help but feel fascinated at the thought of being able to shapeshift to whoever, whenever you wish.
"As marvelous as your gift is, I'd still prefer if I'd talk to the great Chameleon himself, rather than another me."
Her initial scare had died quickly like a candlelight blown from the winds, she tapped two fingers on Camilo's nose as a gesture to shift back to his normal self.
"Chameleon eh? That's new." He said as he shifts back to himself, a charming smile adorning his freckled face.
His eyes caught sight of her sketchbook, green orbs widened at what he saw. A detailed sketch of him, it's almost as if he was looking at a photo of him took secretly while he was doing his chores.
"Is that... Me?"
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