[OTW] Off-Topic Wednesday: Sci-fi/Fantasy meme~

[talks_to_nisse]

Instructions!
A) Post with your character
B) Someone else will roll 1-15 on The Random Number Generator and comment to you

Comments

[oranje_windmill]

Joining in on the fun.

8: Fossegrim, anyone?

[talks_to_nisse]

Sindre shook himself as he emerged from the water. Finally the stink of human was off of him. With their towns encroaching every closer, avoidance was impossible, but that didn't mean he enjoyed it.

Returning to shore, Sindre carefully removed his fiddle from its waterproof case. He was determined to enjoy the night. And so he set the instrument against his chin and began to play.

Re: 8: Fossegrim, anyone?

[oranje_windmill]

His ears perk up at the sound, the paint brush stilling in his hand. It sounded like a violin, but what was someone doing with one way out here.

His inattentive fingers nearly dropped the brush held in them, and he admitted that they may be doing exactly what he was. Looking for someplace to create and practice that wasn't the four walls of a home.

He knew he should let them go on, enjoy the music while he paints, but there's something compelling about it. Something that has him packing his covering his work and heading off in the direction the sound is coming from.

Re: 8: Fossegrim, anyone?

[talks_to_nisse]

As his pace increased, Sindre slipped back into the cool water. He was careful with his fiddle, yes, but here, in his hands, in his place of power, no water would dare damage the instrument. And it was here, small waves lapping at his sides, his bow flying, that he felt at ease.

Here, he was at home.

A stick cracked in the wood behind him, but the only indication of noticing it Sindre gave was the slightest pause in his playing. He was not about to have this night ruined for him.

"You are intruding," he called out, not stopping his music.

Re: 8: Fossegrim, anyone?

[oranje_windmill]

It didn't take him long to find the source of the music,and he paused for a moment to take in the sight of the man sitting in the water playing. It was...certainly an eccentric way to go about things, and any moment Willem was certain the fiddle was going to drop into the water and be damaged.

There was something about the fiddler that was...different, although the Dutchman couldn't tell quite what it was in the low light.

"I apologize," he responded. "I'm not sure where the property line is."

He eyed the fiddle again.

"You should be careful with that."

[talks_to_nisse]

Sindre bared his teeth in what could only loosely be considered a smile. As if he'd put is fiddle in danger.

"I'm always careful with this," he replied, playing a short, angry piece. "And while ignorance excuses much of your rudeness, it down't clear all. What are you doing here?"

[oranje_windmill]

Willem raised an eyebrow, stared the other man down.

"If ignorance is my excuse, then what is yours?"

He shifted to stand more firmly where he was, placing his hands in his pockets.

"And I came because I heard music where no one normally is."

[talks_to_nisse]

"My excuse is being intruded upon," Sindre replied archly. "Especially when I went so far to seek privacy."

He glared at the human. He would not be chased out of his sanctuary by it.

"And you couldn't have heard me from too far off."

[oranje_windmill]

"It could be heard from my property," he says, waving a hand back in the direction from whence he came.

There was something about the other man, something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He thought it had something to do with the fact that the man was floating in the water playing a fiddle and getting cranky when people mentioned it might get wet. But that didn't seem to be it.

But he just couldn't put his finger on what.

[talks_to_nisse]

Sindre tuned out the stranger's words, distracted by something he spotted on the human's clothes. He glided through the water to shore to get a better look at the man.

His breath came in sharply when he identified the marks. "You're a painter."

[oranje_windmill]

Willem stared for a second, surprised at the abrupt change of subject. Looking down at himself, he remembered he'd worn his painting jeans when he'd left the house tonight.

Jeans so called because over the years they'd become spotted with more then a few different colors of paint.

Looking back up the other man, he nodded.

"A hobby. It's what I was doing when I heard your music."

[talks_to_nisse]

Sindre glided closer. His kind had always had a fascination with humans with an overabundance of creativity.

"Show me," he demanded.

[oranje_windmill]

An abrupt turn of events, but much less combative then before. So Willem reached into the bag at his side, pulling from it one of the finished pieces. He held it up for the other man to see.

[talks_to_nisse]

Sindre took the canvas from the human, holding it up to the moonlight to get a better view of it.

"You are very talented," he admired. "Where did you learn?"

[oranje_windmill]

He tensed when the man put hands on the canvas, not sure what the man would do with it if had it in his hands. But as the man seemed genuinely interested in it, not even sparing the Dutchman a glance. So he convinced himself to relax, let the painting out of his hands.

At the praise he felt the tips of his ears get a bit warm, but he just shrugged.

"Art classes in school for the basics, practice and online tutorials for the rest."

[talks_to_nisse]

Sindre mouthed the unfamiliar word 'online' to himself, before shrugging it off. Some human thing that he didn't need to concern himself with.

"Very good," he praised again. "Good enough that I won't eat you, I think."