We're REALLY Back from the Dead Now

[angstingpainter]

*looks up from a charcoal sketch to smile sheepishly

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[also_ah]

*has wandered over in that oddly easy to miss way of hers, and now picks up a sketch-- careful to keep the charcoal away from her sweater, of course-- and looks it over* Interesting.

[angstingpainter]

*looks up when he notices the paper moving - moves to another corner of his paper and starts sketching Aornis* Hello, Miss...?

[also_ah]

Aornis Hades. *smiles, and oh yes, that is a trace of mischief we see* *begins to sift through memories, quietly and unobtrusively, although the faintest sensation of wrongness may be noticeable*

[angstingpainter]

*blinks at her, and tries to figure out why he thinks something should be wrong* Nice to meet you, Miss Hades. I am Basil Hallward. *...continues drawing her, because that feels Right and Right is good*

[also_ah]

*finding something she likes, pulls it up into his consciousness* *it is the image of an attic room, a painting hanging on the wall with a cloth thrown over it . . .*

*smiiile*

[angstingpainter]

*ow, that's... that's really pleasant* *continues sketching all the same, muttering* One time occurence, untoward combination of circumstances. It's gone. Done. *pauses* What's happening?

[also_ah]

*blinks* ...hm? *completely innocent, what?*

*and now, getting closer, the cloth thrown away from the painting-- a warped face, and a signature in long vermilion letters*

[angstingpainter]

*shudders and concentrates some more on drawing, tearing the paper in a few places by going over the lines too many times* It's... It's nothing... I just... *rubs his head absently, trying to figure out what the Denmark is going on*

[also_ah]

Is something wrong, Mr. Hallward? You seem upset. *surprisingly, isn't half bad at feigning concern*

*A guttering candle. Familiar words, familiar fear, familiar tears in familiar eyes--

Isn't there a verse somewhere, 'Though your sins be as scarlet, yet I will make them as white as snow'?"

"Those words mean nothing to me now."*

[angstingpainter]

*stares down at the paper, muttering 'nothing', unclear if it's a response to the question, an echo of the memory, or perhaps even Nothing's name* *is gripping the charcoal hard enough that one of the rough edges is starting to cut into his hand, but he doesn't notice*

[also_ah]

You're sure . . .?

*a silence, and then the pain of a knife, the taste of blood--*

[angstingpainter]

*makes a vague, choking noise, his charcoal coming to a jarring halt* *blood, from his hand but still blood and still fitting the memory, trickles down over the by now dark and smudgey drawing of Aornis*

*slowly, haltingly* He didn't apologize, you know.

[also_ah]

*can't hold back the beginnings of a cruel smile* Yes, I know.

[angstingpainter]

*focuses on her shoes, still gripping the charcoal with his hand still bleeding onto the paper* *puts the other hand against the wall, to support himself*

He- I- I never meant-

*speaks in a monotone*

It shouldn't have happend like that. It didn't need to.

...You're doing this, aren't you.

[also_ah]

*mocking tone* How could I? It's impossible, right? Just like cursed paintings.

[angstingpainter]

*...that was a Mistake, dear, if you're going for breaking him*

*looks up at her suddenly* Just like living thrice over and vampires and the plothole. Possible and impossible doesn't stop anything here.

*drops the charcoal and looks at the sketch* ...It's ruined.