revenge will surely come
Prompt: 41. And it is beautiful.
Character: Piotr Rasputin
Requested By: Kat
Piotr was hiding in the safety of his room, hunched over the desk, a pencil in his hand. It moved back and forth with a fluid fury, broad strokes followed by shorter ones, filling in the details with precise markings in graphite. Normally he preferred to do his sketching outdoors, where the was sun and an almost endless source of inspiration. But this one was special, this one he didn't want anyone to see. A number of the other people in the mansion had already agreed to sit for him, the girls especially. He was determined to draw everyone there - a number that was already larger than when he'd first arrived - and everyone seemed willing to help him.
Everyone, except for his eerily quiet neighbor.
It didn't surprise him that Domino would be outright hostile toward his attempts. After all, she was hostile toward pretty much anything and everything he said to her. But when he'd asked if she would mind him drawing her, he had for a moment thought he was about to die. The next two days were spent checking around every corner, listening carefully for footsteps, and generally wishing he could stay in his metallic form all the time. But he had survived and, feeling he was in the clear, he had decided this afternoon to draw her anyway.
So he had set about, recalling her features from memory; the surprisingly soft shape of her face, her piercingly clear eyes, the way her hair fell over her shoulders. He had tried to draw her smiling, since he had never actually seen her do it, but had erased his attempt; without her perpetual frown of disapproval, it simply hadn't looked right. The pose, too, seemed off. He had drawn her sitting in quiet contemplation, but that hadn't quite been enough. After a long moment's consideration, he realized what was missing, and drew in (as best he could) a partially disassembled pistol.
As the afternoon faded dimly into evening, he set his pencil down and looked at the piece of paper with a sense of accomplishment. It wasn't exactly a traditional portrait, and he was fairly sure he'd gotten a few things wrong. But there it was, quite possibly the only picture of her, in any form. He almost slipped it under her door, but figured he had pushed his luck enough. Instead, he slipped it into the back of his sketchbook, with a note scrawled down in the corner.
красивый, даже если она никогда не думает так.
Then he set it aside and hoped she wasn't going through his things. He really did want to see his twentieth birthday.
Character: Piotr Rasputin
Requested By: Kat
Piotr was hiding in the safety of his room, hunched over the desk, a pencil in his hand. It moved back and forth with a fluid fury, broad strokes followed by shorter ones, filling in the details with precise markings in graphite. Normally he preferred to do his sketching outdoors, where the was sun and an almost endless source of inspiration. But this one was special, this one he didn't want anyone to see. A number of the other people in the mansion had already agreed to sit for him, the girls especially. He was determined to draw everyone there - a number that was already larger than when he'd first arrived - and everyone seemed willing to help him.
Everyone, except for his eerily quiet neighbor.
It didn't surprise him that Domino would be outright hostile toward his attempts. After all, she was hostile toward pretty much anything and everything he said to her. But when he'd asked if she would mind him drawing her, he had for a moment thought he was about to die. The next two days were spent checking around every corner, listening carefully for footsteps, and generally wishing he could stay in his metallic form all the time. But he had survived and, feeling he was in the clear, he had decided this afternoon to draw her anyway.
So he had set about, recalling her features from memory; the surprisingly soft shape of her face, her piercingly clear eyes, the way her hair fell over her shoulders. He had tried to draw her smiling, since he had never actually seen her do it, but had erased his attempt; without her perpetual frown of disapproval, it simply hadn't looked right. The pose, too, seemed off. He had drawn her sitting in quiet contemplation, but that hadn't quite been enough. After a long moment's consideration, he realized what was missing, and drew in (as best he could) a partially disassembled pistol.
As the afternoon faded dimly into evening, he set his pencil down and looked at the piece of paper with a sense of accomplishment. It wasn't exactly a traditional portrait, and he was fairly sure he'd gotten a few things wrong. But there it was, quite possibly the only picture of her, in any form. He almost slipped it under her door, but figured he had pushed his luck enough. Instead, he slipped it into the back of his sketchbook, with a note scrawled down in the corner.
красивый, даже если она никогда не думает так.
Then he set it aside and hoped she wasn't going through his things. He really did want to see his twentieth birthday.