<br/><div class="floatleft">(http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/236x/88/2b/7a/882b7a8e5773e2ce3bc7f8b7dcefca89.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Eiryn Grim<br/><br/><strong>Location:</strong>At her flat<br/><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Isis<br/><br/><strong>Content:</strong>Showing off<br/><br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Goth/Punk jeans (http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/68/1c/08/681c0858094d0c087edb1e73e512e52f.jpg); black crop tank top (https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/shopping?q=tbn:ANd9GcSYaiGZqJSYILXmjjQg1Fy7hDCWs-dYSa8nWGbOHpa_LxjwWixt&usqp=CAE);asymmetric jacket (http://s001.osstatic.net/s/jctr/store/productimages/details/1275_pitch_black_l_z.jpg).<br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/>Hey- she was human. Eiryn was vain enough and proud enough of her own abilities to get a tiny rush from Isis' comment, though she was self-critical enough to divide it between respect for technical prowess, which she knew she had, and admiration for the work itself, which she personally thought hadn't come out quite right.<br/><br/>"Photo reduction of a reference shot onto celluloid. Painted under a jewler's loupe on the back side of the plastic, waited for it to stiffen a bit, an' then pressed it into the pupil. Wait for it to harden more, the celluloid comes away. Rinse an' repeat. All twenty-three of 'em" The steamer was bubbling, so she re-hung the painting, and moved to the stove to pour coffee. "But, see, they're s'posed to be lookin' AT you, not past you. I was some bullshit art critic, I could yammer about the eyes 'reflecting the viewer's female soul' or some such tripe." Handing a mug of steaming black goodness, she made a sour face. "Won't say I wasn't thinkin' some of that, maybe. Mostly, I just paint what I see, and I see weird shit. A lot. especially when I sleep. How I got into drawing in the first place, therapist said it'd be a good idea, clear out the boogeymen and shit. Only real heavy thinkin' goes into the<em>how</em>, not the what." She sipped, sighed.<br/><br/>"But see, I got the focal point in the eyes wrong, clearly. It's not a 'bad' piece- sure as shit, someone'll latch onto it, an' talk about 'invisible woman' or some political crap like that. But it's not what I was goin' for." Setting her cup down, she took the pipe form Isis, loaded the bowl, lit up, took a puff. "Damn. I need to shoot my guy. Or maybe change papers, or somethin'. This stuff is good. Thanks." For a second, she looked like she might press her lips to Isis', to shotgun her, but at the last second, she veered off, pressed the pipe into her hand.<br/><br/>"You want cream, sugar, anythin'? Other two pieces are in the bedroom, but  get mellow first. They're kinda hardcore."