vibrant

one; van gogh

Ophelia's strokes are slow, careful and even, and she holds her breath as brush meets canvas, the delicate action taking her focus. She'd been at it all day, and at a certain point, the ache in her spine and the uncomfortable stool had taken a back seat to the vision she's portraying. Pausing only to push her glasses up higher on her nose, Ophelia hums along to the loud music playing through her earbuds. Dipping her brush back into the green paint, the blonde girl removes the excess before she continues.

When she lifts her brush, she feels a hand on her shoulder, jolting her from her focused state. Turning as she takes out an earbud, Ophelia's green eyed gaze settles onto her friends, each flopping onto a different seat on the Chateau's porch, John B, staring at the canvas over her shoulder gives an impressed nod, "It's lookin good, Lia."

Rolling her eyes, Ophelia sets her eyes back on the in-progess painting, "What's my name, John B?"

"Right, right, Ophelia, sorry," The boy adjusts his cap, "Have you moved since we left?"

Picking up more paint on her brush, Ophelia's voice is monotone as she lifts it back up to her project, "Nope, why would I? I'm in the zone right now."

"You want some paint-free water?"

"Please and thank you!" As John B disappears into the Chateau, the three Pogues take his place, looking over the blonde girl's shoulder at her work-in-progress, "How was trespassing?" She mumbles, furrowing her brows as her steady hand glides down the canvas' surface.

"Nothing out of the ordinary to report," Pope says, "We got caught."

"Yep," Jj chirps, popping the 'P', "Ran from security, you missed Gary."

Ophelia let out a small chuckle, "Damn. I love that guy."

"Who are you painting?" Kiara asks, Ophelia turns her head slightly, seeing Kiara's doe-like eyes scanning the art in front of her.

"Ophelia."

Jj shakes his head, "No, you're Ophelia. That's not you."

Looking back at the canvas, Ophelia analyzes her work as she sets her brush down. She's been working on her realism. In front of her, is a half-finished painting of a red-headed woman in a white dress, half submerged in murky water and clutching not-yet-painted rosemary and pansies. There's a lot of shading, highlights, and fine work to be done, right now the blonde is focusing on the details of the background. Dark green lily-pads and growing reeds drawing all of her focus, "I know it's not me, Jj. It's Ophelia from Hamlet," Jj stares at her blankly, "You know, 'to be or not to be?' She goes mad and drowns herself? The character my nerd-dads named me after? Am I Ringing any bells, here?"

When Jj slowly nods, confusion still evident on his features, Pope scoffs, "Did you really think you would?" Taking another glance, Pope gives her an impressed nod, "It's great so far, da Vinci."

"Yeah," Kiara agrees, taking a seat by the blonde's stool and easel, "It's crazy realistic."

As John B reappears, handing his best friend a tall glass of water and a granola bar, Ophelia lets a grin slip onto her face, "That's what I'm going for!" She happily chirps before she gulps back some of the liquid, not realizing how thirsty she really was. She also opens the granola bar, taking a few bites before setting it on the ledge of her easel. Picking up her brush, she dips it into the palette that rests on her lap, getting back to work.

Slowly, Ophelia fazes out the chatter of her friends, focusing on perfecting the stroke of her small brush, pausing every now and then to adjust her glasses or to push some flyaways that had escaped her big, messy bun, out of her face. Proud of the image she's creating, probably her best realism painting to date, Ophelia is content as she cleans off her brush, about to switch to a different colour when John B's voice snaps her out of her small trance, "Kie and I are going to pick up the keg from Jj's cousin, you want to come Ophelia?"