Pretty in Pink

The garden districts of Alexandria, grand or simpler, were all a not small wonder of the city. The fact that they remained as they did with the faltering summer months was no small miracle on its own, after all.

One such person in the gardens was a small makari who was wandering the various paths, stopping to poke and prod at some of the various plants. Eventually her path brings her to where the goblin was painting.

"What has you so unhappy on a day like this of all days?" The makari wonders loudly.

The Goblin continues to frown at the blank canvas, and slowly blinks, then turns in surprise.

"Oh! Hello, Eztli!" She waves the hand with the paintbrush. An ear twitches. "I'm not finding a satisfactory subject for painting today. The muse has forsaken me." A faint pout.

The warm season is fading, yet the weather remains fair for now, save for a bit more wind. All of which is even more moderated and pleasant within the gardens. It is one of the reasons they are a popular location to visit.

One more visitor arrives, slightly preceded by soft vocal sounds: murmuring or humming. Verna is dressed in a layered dress predominantly of pink, adding one more splash of color to the various blooms that line the walkways. Her initial interest is upon the path, with intermitted looks to the passed flor; until sight and sounds of others ahead refocus her attention forward.

"Oh, come on now, Simony. The muse wouldn't be so cruel to forsake someone at this time of year." The small makari huffs loudly. "Not sure how your subjects are missing, though. I doubt the trees and plants are pulling up roots and wandering elsewhere."

Eztli turns and waves instead to someone who was taking a walk through the gardens as well. "What about miss Verna? Hello, Verna!" The sorceress shouts over. "That's something different right? I don't mean to be rude, but I'm used to seeing you looking awfully... gray?"

The Goblin is surrepticiously turning the easel around as Eztli turns to speak to Verna. "No, but it is often difficult to decide which things are worthy /today/ to paint." She squeaks as the breeze rustles her own dress, recovering quickly to dip the paintbrush into the red... and begin mixing it in her palette, with the white. "How are you two ladies faring? Eztli's observations are spot on, you're looking much younger of late."

"I fare well," Verna answers Simonony first before turning to Eztli. "My prior, and perhaps more familiar, attire served purpose in my role as Mourner. I am not currently present for official duties. It seemed more appropriate to dress for comfort and expression. How fare you both?" She does, indeed, appear far more energized and youthful; certainly moreso than in recent encounters.

"Well, if you're not going to find the plants here, maybe you should find a change of scenery? It's not good to dwell on something you just aren't feeling." Eztli shrugs. "I'm faring well, if I do say so myself, a distinct lack of worries gives me plenty of time to worry about less pressing things."

"Well, it suits you, Verna, the gray isn't really suited to your complexion in my opinion. You'd think they'd have alternative robe colors for people with your skin tone and hair color." Eztli laughs. "You feeling better? Sure looks like you are."

"It is pleasing to see more colour in your cheeks than all of your official robes put together. I was worried when I first saw you that you... would be chatting with THE Mourner and that a ressurection spell would draw Her ire as I'd be interrupting." The Goblin manages a little laugh as she begins to paint, spreading a good amount of pink onto the canvas.

"The muse is fussy and fickle, Eztli. Sometimes it's about the place and not the things in it. Sometimes it's the place but... the right things aren't in it yet. And one cannot force things.. well, not without ruining the mood. Then it's best to simply put down the brush and go do something else. But sometimes the right subjects happen along."

"I am pleased at your attention to detail," Verna notes, "as well as the compliment. It seems that an enriched diet and a determined, ingenious spouse can do wonders for one's vitality." Her visage brightens further for a moment with a brief smile. "I can assure that an attempt to recall one from Her Halls would not offend Her, Temperence, regardless of the ultimate result."

"It's the color isn't it? I think it's the color. My robes are much to plain to be the right thing. And I think there's too much pink for it to be me." Eztli chuckles. "I wouldn't worry about that. If the mourner was getting pissed off at people being raised, well, I think that they wouldn't just let sleeping dogs lie. Bet she has enough help if something really ticks her off to make that known."

"Eating healthy does wonders, doesn't it? Maybe I need to find an ingenious spouse some day so I can stay youthful. I don't think you'd take too kindly to me stealing yours." Eztli teases. "But, seriously, glad to see you doing better."

The Goblin giggles lightly, still patting paint onto the canvas as the conversation continues, her eyes occasionally looking up.

"I am certain Her wrath would not be measureable in any great amount, but as our walk through Her Halls is practically inevitable, I am aure I would hear about it /eventually/." Simony smiles broadly. "The upside is... I am to pass through before you, Verna. Perhaps you'd put in a good word for me." She winks and looks to Eztli then.

"Perhaps I am painting you in pink, Eztli?"

"I am confident that Auranar would be displeased were she stolen, as well," Verna notes to Eztli, though her tone is anything but harsh, "and her ire is ever the most fearsome." She then looks to Simony, brows lifting lightly. "All pass through Her Halls at their appointed time. When that time may be is not for us to know. Yet I would be honored to share word of you should She inquire." Verna leaves the offer at that, rather than note that The Harpist already knows all evidence for a soul's judgement.

"Oh, well, okay! This is getting too depressing. It's much too nice of a day for talk like this." The makari waves away. "If you want to paint me in pink than far be it from me to stop you, but I think Verna looks a lot better in that dress than I would."

"Oh no, she'd probably be displeased. This dragon will just have to steal someone else away for their tower at some point." Eztli chuckles.

"Hmm, sou ka. Though... my kind burn twice as bright and live half as long. And that's not counting the blessing of an Sil parent. It is not inevitable, one supposes, that I pass before you. But... we have good friends. Ones who would move the mountains and seas to see us returned, should we pass before our time. It is the .. purpose of our lives to dare anything, even the wrath of Divinity itself, to right what we perceive as wrongs. Thus our natural deaths are more likely than violent ones. And thus... I pass before you."

The Goblin dips the brush into a mason jar at her feet, and smacks it against a leg of the easel. "Depressing? No. Maudlin? Certainly. But she is a Mourner. And I, a Temperence. Death and Time, okay Knowledge also. But this is our baliwick. And I am not painting you in a pink dress." Brown is chosen next...

"My apologies if I darkened the mood. Such was not my intent. You are correct that the day is best spent acknowledging and admiring the pleasantness that is rather than what shall come to pass." She regards Simony's work in progress for a long moment and then Eztli for a time. Some thought is taken before she admits, "I regret that I have no suggestion to offer regarding complimentary colors of attire. Neither art nor fashion are among my aptitudes." She has no muse, one could say.

"I mean, I find it depressing." Eztli shrugs. "I don't like to think about that, it takes away too much time from enjoying my life. You'd think with as much time as I might have it'd be easier but, I don't know? Don't even know how long I'll be around for, I'm kind of weird like that."

"So, yeah, Id rather appreciate the day and try not to dwell on it too much. I think that the dress looks nice on you, not sure if Auranar picked it out though. "You're really lucky, both of you. You've got complexions that are basically a blank canvas for whatever you want, it's basically impossible to find a color that'd look bad on you. But the complementary colors, it's not that simple, and Simony's the one that knows the best about color theory I bet. Sometimes some colors go well together, but not in large amounts, you know?"

The painting is coming along quickly, as many of Simony's do. Verna's form is central, Eztli's to the left, and a tree to Verna's right in the background. Verna, Eztli and the rest of park are done in pink, and though the tree's leaves are pink, the trunk is brown, as are a few of the city's recognizable buildings in the background.

Simony giggles lightly, and shrugs. "Better spent? Perhaps for many. Not so much others." Another shrug, and she smiles. "Sometimes I feel better after I've dwelt upon such maudlin things. But we can direct things in a more positive direction. Say something about a positive thing in your life."

Verna notes Simony's current preference for pink in the painting for more than just a single dress or accent before noting to Eztli, "If I am a blank canvas then, by definition, it requires additions to be representative. Under the same analogy, I would consider the Makari to be cavases already brilliantly filled; expressive of ancestry while yet each being unique. There is little need for attire, both for apperance and protection as your scales already express who you are to all while they also protect. All else is minor accessory or accent." Her words might also serve as a response related to Simony's prompt.

"If it works for you, then I suppose that's that." Eztli relents. "Oh, that's it, you're painting me pink, not wearing pink. Well, that's fair."

"It's just scales, it's like skin. And well, I'd rather not go around wearing nothing at all. It wouldn't feel right, even if I theoretically could.

"You aren't a blank canvas, I just mean, you're both really neutral? You could both wear whatever you want, that's a pretty nice thing, I'd say!" Eztli grins.

"You are not a blank canvas, you are simply blessed to be able to easily express yourself on that canvas how you chose, without the canvas interfering with your expression. Which is a benefit, the drawback being a lack of natural protection.", the Goblin says cheerfully. Brown is discarded now, dunked into the solution in the mason jar, and spattered against the easel's leg. She reaches up to pull one of the straps holding her dress up, revealing a silvery, five-pointed star tattoes into her skin. "Expression like so."

Simony giggles lightly, "Lots of Sith would probably go bare, except for Winter, if it wouldn't offend some people's sensibilities. But I bet most of them are from Am'shere recently, and are just used to it. You've been here a while, haven't you, Eztli?"

"A great deal of the painting is pink," Verna notes the obvious. "A more vivacious view of reality?" she follows as a possible hypothesis regarding Simony's choice of color. Afterwards, she clarifies her comment on canvases and scales. "I meant only to imply that The People arrive in this world visually expressive by their nature whilst others must choose to make an effort to do so. Such was intended as a compliment to you and your people, Eztli."

"Oh, that's a real nice tattoo, is it new? Or are you just always wearing dresses and robes so I haven't seen it?" Eztli muses. "Yeah, a lot of them do. Probably used to it.

"Longer than I thought, to be honest. Kind of starting to feel like home at this point." She adds after a pause. "I don't know, but thank you, Verna. They are my people, and I suppose they are all quite striking to see."

"Nothing wrong with an artist taking creative liberties either, it's part of well, being an artist, right?" The makari grins. "I'm sure that painting will turn out great, in the end."

The Goblin nods brightly at Verna. "Bringing a bit of extra colour to the world. I'm going to gift it to someone. You know them. And you'll see it again. But I won't say who the subjects are. It can be a secret for the three of us.", she says to Verna, on the topic of lots of pink. "And softskins, as a way of saying not-Sith, are expressive also. Perhaps not as vivid as some Sith are, but a not-too-limited array. It is, I will say, pleasing to watch the Sith come through the portal."

To Eztli, she smiles, her cheeks colouring. "It's not new, the outline has existed for quite some time. I've only recently acquired the silver ink, it is difficult to find, and expensive. But the cheaper kind is poisonous, and not suitable for putting under one's skin." She grins again. "An artist should always take some liberties with their art." Simony starts to pack things up, putting things into a bag, save the palette, canvas, and mason jar. These she balances precariously under her arm's. "My apologies, ladies, but I must be off. Thank you for the lovely conversation!" Another grin and she begins to wobble away.