Supermodel (Mythklok Interstitial)
Mar. 19th, 2011 09:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Supermodel (Mythklok Interstitial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: My life in art
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, modern art
Notes: For Z (and her lovely muse, Mr. Z).
Supermodel
“Just extend it a bit more. That’s right. Now hold it out.”
Sariel grumbled.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” inquired Ganesh as he fussed with a wing tip.
“You know, if all of this shifting position shit was going to produce an extended orgasm, I might be a bit more enthusiastic.”
Ganesh stepped back behind his easel and took up his paints. “Sariel. It’s watercolor. I have not attempted the technique in many years, and it is quite unforgiving. But, I believe, with patience, it will produce some splendid results.”
“I’m not thrilled about this art show crap either.”
“As I have explained, I will not show your facial features.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s just some random fucking silvery fucking angel.”
“Sariel. This particular crowd is primarily human.”
“I’m a minor celebrity now, you know!”
“Yes, I am aware of that.”
“Can I at least have another martini?”
“Perhaps later. I do not wish you to get sloppy whilst I am composing.”
“I’m bored.”
“All right. And then after I fix martinis, I shall favor you with a nice blow job.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I will request Auntie Sarasvati bake you a special pie.”
“… I’m listening. All for me?”
“Yes, you may gorge yourself, and THEN I will feign sympathy when you inevitably get a terrible tummy ache. Now will you please hold still?”
“Namaste Ganesha!”
“Oh, hello Lady Raziel! What a pleasant surprise!”
“What the fuck are you doing here? I thought I told you to quit barging in on intimate fucking moments?”
“You’re out on the deck!” Raziel protested. She went up on tiptoe to peer around Ganesh’s shoulder to his easel. “Ganesha, that’s gorgeous.” She frowned. “It’s WAY PRETTIER than Sariel.”
Sariel turned and stuck out his tongue at her.
“Don’t move out of position!” Ganesh scolded.
“It’s watercolor! It’s unforgiving!” Raziel added.
“All the pie in the world isn’t worth this,” Sariel grumbled, although he really didn’t believe it. Especially regarding rhubarb pie.
Sariel had never seen quite so many people dressed in black. He held his plastic cup on champagne and wandered through some of the exhibitions. He had wanted to explain to Ganesh that artists were a bunch of fucking douche bags anyway, but he figured the god would cotton on to the fact after this evening. He passed the fourth or fifth canvas that had nothing but a black blob on it, titled something like “Anguish,” smirked and grabbed some fried mushrooms from a passing tray.
He chuckled at the lady who was rolled up in a carpet screeching like a cat in heat, and moved on.
He found the room with Ganesh’s painting. Ganesh was there as well, though in an opposite corner, talking to a couple of quite animated people. Sariel approached the painting, but stopped short when a couple moved in front of it. He noticed that they were not dressed in black. They gazed quietly for a while, and then the woman held up her hands, flickering her fingers. She said something Sariel didn’t quite catch, and her companion nodded. And then they moved on.
He hung back, like this, for some minutes, quite intrigued as more people filtered by Ganesh’s work. People who had been in conversation tended to stop for a moment and grow quiet.
There was a break, and he moved closer. He squinted at the nameplate. Ganesh had left it untitled, despite Sariel’s entreaties to call it “Fuck You.” Humans were so bizarre about angel wings.
A couple had come up beside him. They were quiet for a moment. “Oh, watercolor!” said the shorter man. The taller man nodded, obviously impressed.
“It’s an unforgiving technique!” Sariel supplied. They smiled faintly and nodded at him.
He noticed the shorter man had almost unconsciously caught the hand of the taller man. “Do you know the artist?” he asked.
“I posed,” Sariel said, immediately wondering why he had said it.
“Oh!” They smiled and nodded. “And how did he get the wing?”
“It was…. Uh…. He used a bird wing. Yeah.”
They nodded and smiled again. “It’s lovely,” the taller man said. And were off.
Sariel felt a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, are you bored out of your mind?” Ganesh asked.
“Oh. Uh.” He grabbed some crab puffs from a passing tray and crammed them into his mouth. “I’m ‘K,” he smacked. “The app’tizers. R’lly good.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yep.”
“OK. Well, not too much longer.”
“And, I get my pie.”
“Yes, you will get your pie, dear.”
Sariel nodded towards the painting. “You didn’t call it Fuck You.”
“No, I didn’t do that.”
“Eh. Probably for the best.”
Ganesh frowned, and then they both for a time stood looking up at the painting of angel wings.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: My life in art
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, modern art
Notes: For Z (and her lovely muse, Mr. Z).
Supermodel
“Just extend it a bit more. That’s right. Now hold it out.”
Sariel grumbled.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” inquired Ganesh as he fussed with a wing tip.
“You know, if all of this shifting position shit was going to produce an extended orgasm, I might be a bit more enthusiastic.”
Ganesh stepped back behind his easel and took up his paints. “Sariel. It’s watercolor. I have not attempted the technique in many years, and it is quite unforgiving. But, I believe, with patience, it will produce some splendid results.”
“I’m not thrilled about this art show crap either.”
“As I have explained, I will not show your facial features.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s just some random fucking silvery fucking angel.”
“Sariel. This particular crowd is primarily human.”
“I’m a minor celebrity now, you know!”
“Yes, I am aware of that.”
“Can I at least have another martini?”
“Perhaps later. I do not wish you to get sloppy whilst I am composing.”
“I’m bored.”
“All right. And then after I fix martinis, I shall favor you with a nice blow job.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I will request Auntie Sarasvati bake you a special pie.”
“… I’m listening. All for me?”
“Yes, you may gorge yourself, and THEN I will feign sympathy when you inevitably get a terrible tummy ache. Now will you please hold still?”
“Namaste Ganesha!”
“Oh, hello Lady Raziel! What a pleasant surprise!”
“What the fuck are you doing here? I thought I told you to quit barging in on intimate fucking moments?”
“You’re out on the deck!” Raziel protested. She went up on tiptoe to peer around Ganesh’s shoulder to his easel. “Ganesha, that’s gorgeous.” She frowned. “It’s WAY PRETTIER than Sariel.”
Sariel turned and stuck out his tongue at her.
“Don’t move out of position!” Ganesh scolded.
“It’s watercolor! It’s unforgiving!” Raziel added.
“All the pie in the world isn’t worth this,” Sariel grumbled, although he really didn’t believe it. Especially regarding rhubarb pie.
Sariel had never seen quite so many people dressed in black. He held his plastic cup on champagne and wandered through some of the exhibitions. He had wanted to explain to Ganesh that artists were a bunch of fucking douche bags anyway, but he figured the god would cotton on to the fact after this evening. He passed the fourth or fifth canvas that had nothing but a black blob on it, titled something like “Anguish,” smirked and grabbed some fried mushrooms from a passing tray.
He chuckled at the lady who was rolled up in a carpet screeching like a cat in heat, and moved on.
He found the room with Ganesh’s painting. Ganesh was there as well, though in an opposite corner, talking to a couple of quite animated people. Sariel approached the painting, but stopped short when a couple moved in front of it. He noticed that they were not dressed in black. They gazed quietly for a while, and then the woman held up her hands, flickering her fingers. She said something Sariel didn’t quite catch, and her companion nodded. And then they moved on.
He hung back, like this, for some minutes, quite intrigued as more people filtered by Ganesh’s work. People who had been in conversation tended to stop for a moment and grow quiet.
There was a break, and he moved closer. He squinted at the nameplate. Ganesh had left it untitled, despite Sariel’s entreaties to call it “Fuck You.” Humans were so bizarre about angel wings.
A couple had come up beside him. They were quiet for a moment. “Oh, watercolor!” said the shorter man. The taller man nodded, obviously impressed.
“It’s an unforgiving technique!” Sariel supplied. They smiled faintly and nodded at him.
He noticed the shorter man had almost unconsciously caught the hand of the taller man. “Do you know the artist?” he asked.
“I posed,” Sariel said, immediately wondering why he had said it.
“Oh!” They smiled and nodded. “And how did he get the wing?”
“It was…. Uh…. He used a bird wing. Yeah.”
They nodded and smiled again. “It’s lovely,” the taller man said. And were off.
Sariel felt a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, are you bored out of your mind?” Ganesh asked.
“Oh. Uh.” He grabbed some crab puffs from a passing tray and crammed them into his mouth. “I’m ‘K,” he smacked. “The app’tizers. R’lly good.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yep.”
“OK. Well, not too much longer.”
“And, I get my pie.”
“Yes, you will get your pie, dear.”
Sariel nodded towards the painting. “You didn’t call it Fuck You.”
“No, I didn’t do that.”
“Eh. Probably for the best.”
Ganesh frowned, and then they both for a time stood looking up at the painting of angel wings.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-03-19 06:56 pm (UTC)No.
And no sparkly vampires. :D
We will be getting some surfers.
no subject
Date: 2011-03-29 03:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-29 03:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-29 03:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-29 03:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-29 03:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-29 03:42 am (UTC)Whoa, dude, do you have an MP3? Because that sounds sort of awesome. :D
no subject
Date: 2011-03-29 03:48 am (UTC)