a tattoo exhibit at the louvre

Eve woke up late that morning.

Sometimes, her art would just take the better of her, and she'd end up working on a piece for hours, nonstop, until it's perfect. She stayed up late the night before, and now woke up a few minutes later than when she should have.

She didn't usually care about what she looks like. Especially if her appointment was to attend her own exhibit, then all the more would she be comfortable in pretty much anything. As long as there's something on her, of course. She headed to the café, the oh so awesome café that hosted her works, wearing only plain white t-shirt that was two sizes too large on her, and then a pair of faded blue jeans, and open-toed sandals. Her hair was tied to a messy bun, and her face, although clean because of course she'd taken a shower, was not fixed with any kind of make up. There was no effort in her looks today.

She got there a few minutes later than the time she promised to the manager. It wasn't really a big deal though, since she saw that people were still looking at her paintings, and really, her presence there wasn't even needed. Let the paintings attract people themselves. They're finished pieces, and therefore already independent of her.

Her get-up was so plain that nobody would think she was the artist of these paintings hanging on the walls. She was as plain as her artworks were magical and elegant, each of them slightly realistic but mostly made with a fantasy or magical theme. Some were dark, some were light, some were colorful, some were monochromatic.

Eve looked around herself, trying to act like she wasn't the artist, and trying to critique her own works at the same time. But she loves all of them and is proud of her works.

She was holding a cup of hot latte as she walked around. She would sip every now and then, while stopping in front of one painting, just like everyone else. Out of all these people though, one managed to catch her attention. The young woman with an awesome choice of clothes (they were awesome for Eve because she likes people who don't follow the norm [even though it's hard to define the norm in this island] ), was staring at her paintings so long she felt flattered. The young woman did not look like she was criticizing the works, which made it even more flattering for the artist, because then, Eve felt genuine happiness that her artworks had that kind of effect on people.

She grinned. She wondered if this person knew what Eve Willows looked like in person, and if she didn't, Eve wasn't planning to reveal herself soon, and was planning to have a friendly chat as an anonymous person. If she knew though, Eve wouldn't really mind anyway. She'll be just as friendly.

Eve didn't realize she was staring without even saying a word. And she was staring at the lady, not at the painting; she was almost sure this young woman was going to think she was weird but... Wow, fortunately she was wrong.

She felt really embarrassed, in a good way, hearing all those complements about her painting. And from a fellow artist, it seemed. She really liked people who have a thing for art, they would almost certainly never rub off on her.

"I say, I like this one. The desperation to get on the surface is... fantastic," she said, turning her eyes to the painting of the mermaid. She remembered that this was inspired by, and made right after Deith's story one morning about how he had met someone so adorable trying to fight the ocean, and failing. Back then, she was really irritated about being bothered by Deith, but she understood that Deith's good side was better than the bad one, and so she later on simply tried to make his presence useful by making his stories into ideas.

She chuckled. She wouldn't really assume that anyone's her fan, but this woman has complemented her so much she couldn't help it. "You really think so? But you gotta admit, she's not the best one. Without internet, her type might probably... not be as successful."

That was her speaking the truth, or at least that's what she believed. Though she hope she wouldn't be misunderstood.

She cleared her throat, and took another sip of her latte. "So, you're also an artist? Somehow I can already see it without asking though."

"Hmm, true." Eve smiled fondly at those thoughts. It was actually nice to know that there are some people who wouldn't compare one artist to another. Because some other people do.

"And I guess at some point, that's also true. No artist is ever content. But these works are really well-made, I bet Eve is satisfied with how each of them turned out." She was, actually. "But once new inspiration kicks in... Ah, now that's a different story." She snickered. Inspiration would always drive her to her limit until she's done. But she's always content with her results... Except that time when she spilled paint over three of her best pieces.

She flinched when this woman finally introduced herself. Thorn, huh? She took her hand and shook it. "Fine arts students, hm, interesting. I was one once." She paused, just for a second. Shit. She didn't realize she would have to come up with a fake name if she wanted to keep her real identity hidden. "U-Uh... D-D--" Great, she could only come up with Deith's name. Nice. "--Di... Diana, name's Diana. Also an FA. F-Frustrated artist.... Hehe..."

Eve made an awkward laugh. Was she that obvious? Oh well, she just had to be thankful Thorn wasn't going to pay, although she honestly had no idea who Cabel was and what she was talking about. "I'm not acquainted with whoever that Cabel is, but... Let's just say I'm conscious of my real name and I don't really like saying it..." Not true though, that's only for this moment. "...Thanks, for not trying to force it out of me."

She shrugged with another chuckle, before turning back to the paintings. She took her last sip of her latte, before giving the empty cup to a staff from the café. She asked for another one.

"So, Thorn, have you seen everything? What's your favorite?" She pointed to the painting on the next wall, the largest one. It was a painting of a girl with long black hair, wearing black gown and cloak, while playing a grand piano in the middle of a burning structure. The painting showed the girl's back, and just enough of her face to show the passion she had in her eyes. Her hair was dancing in the air, showing that she was swaying as she played. "That one's my favorite. I--"

I painted a friend who helped me fixing my studio. Wow she almost slipped. She was terrible at this pretend game. She made an awkward chuckle and shrugged. "I love how the fire reflected her passion. And how it doesn't look destructive even though it most certainly is."

Eve followed her to the painting and felt her face heat up a little as she listened. Thorn was something else, being able to see paintings the way she does. Of course, meanings are usually relative, but Thorn's way of seeing through the picture was really close to how she thought of it. "Personally, I think light and dark are perfectly compatible with each other. Perfect contrast and such. She wouldn't be so daring if there was no need. No point of having happiness if everything around you is the same. I agree for the most part though." She didn't say much after that. She loved hearing ideas from others, more than telling them her own. That's why she always lets her painting just do the talking.

And besides, she loved her painting of Miya more-- most. She honestly preferred her works that gave off strong emotions. Of all things she's seen in this island, she adored Miya's passion the most. And felt amazed just as much at Thorn.

"What else have you scrutinized, Thorn? I honestly find your words intriguing and interesting."