Fill: Challenge 39 Original-Lemy'es
Apr. 12th, 2022 08:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lantairvlea posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tenminutesadayKind of introspection? Danrick Mishor a good 15-20 years before the other bits I've shared here.
Danrick stared at the map laid out on the massive drafting table. It took up the whole space, over six feet wide and four feet long showing Alast and all its features in exquisite detail. There was a small table beside the stool, full of paints, brushes, pencils, and mal sticks of various lengths. He touched the edge of the map. It would never be finished. His eyes found Envawn and he carefully touched the mark for [city name], then he traced the route in the air above the paper down to the sea and brushed against the landing point on Ostrin. This point was fairly filled in, a half dozen trips back and forth, all uneventful and leaving her giddy, arms full of notes to translate onto the canvas. The mysteries of the continent to the South slowly being discovered through the tireless work of many hands and this was her contribution. The bottom quarter of the map was just a vague outline of northern Ostrin, various points on the coast carefully painted and labeled. Rivers crept inland and shifted from vibrant paint to penciled lines. Some of her notes were sticking out from under the palette.
He sat heavily on the stool and propped his elbows on the end of the drafting table and put his head in his hands. The map would never be finished. The project she had poured hours, days, years into would sit perpetually incomplete.
His shoulders shuddered. He would never be complete again.
I probably could have done more around this (and may eventually) but this felt like a nice little vignette, even if it is a bit depressing.
Danrick stared at the map laid out on the massive drafting table. It took up the whole space, over six feet wide and four feet long showing Alast and all its features in exquisite detail. There was a small table beside the stool, full of paints, brushes, pencils, and mal sticks of various lengths. He touched the edge of the map. It would never be finished. His eyes found Envawn and he carefully touched the mark for [city name], then he traced the route in the air above the paper down to the sea and brushed against the landing point on Ostrin. This point was fairly filled in, a half dozen trips back and forth, all uneventful and leaving her giddy, arms full of notes to translate onto the canvas. The mysteries of the continent to the South slowly being discovered through the tireless work of many hands and this was her contribution. The bottom quarter of the map was just a vague outline of northern Ostrin, various points on the coast carefully painted and labeled. Rivers crept inland and shifted from vibrant paint to penciled lines. Some of her notes were sticking out from under the palette.
He sat heavily on the stool and propped his elbows on the end of the drafting table and put his head in his hands. The map would never be finished. The project she had poured hours, days, years into would sit perpetually incomplete.
His shoulders shuddered. He would never be complete again.
I probably could have done more around this (and may eventually) but this felt like a nice little vignette, even if it is a bit depressing.
