Day 12: Brush/Cahelium
The strokes were slow and deliberate, applying layer upon layer of colour, building up and deepening it. The sketch he'd made earlier was rough, fingers aching from being used intensively in a way they hadn't been used for a long time.
Now the outline was slowly taking form, green paint glistening in the light. He rinsed the brush out and added a hint of yellow to the green, adding a stroke of slightly lighter green to show the play of light, adding white and yellow and a touch of blue to build more depth in every layer, until he was happy.
He had washed the background in a pale orange, and now that he was happy with the Cahelium, he turned his attention to the other areas of the painting, picking out detail in the orange with pale grey and dark grey.
Eventually he put the brush down.
His hand was trembling slightly, and he massaged it as he cast a critical eye over the painting. It wasn't quite right, there was something off about the shape of Two's wing, of the curve of her hull, but he knew that if he kept going he would just ruin it. At least the green was right.
He got up, stretching the kink out of his back, and moved away, viewing the painting from a distance. Yeah, that was better. He'd even managed to outline the figure standing underneath the behemoth.
Smiling to himself, he left the painting to dry as he went to get coffee and food, pleased at the outcome. Later that night he'd finish prepping it ready for tomorrow. But now was time for food and family.
The next morning Virgil was whistling to himself as he went about the last checks on Two. He knew that Brains, Scott and Gordon would have kept on top fixing her while he was out, but he needed to be sure.
As he brushed a hand down her hull he was alerted to the fact that he was no longer alone by the echoing footsteps of his eldest brother. Knowing it was Scott, Virgil didn't bother to turn around, yet he didn't fail to notice the pause before Scott joined him. They walked together in silence until Virgil was satisfied and they made their way back over to the work trolley.
There was a small parcel on the trolley with Virgil's name on it, and a glance at Scott told Virgil where it had come from. His brother was uncharacteristically quiet, and nervous even. As he reached for it, Scott suddenly decided that coffee would be a good idea and shot off before Virgil could stop him. He'd be back, though, so Virgil fixed his attention on the small package, carefully opening it to reveal the small painting of Two.
He smiled. His 'bird was the only source of real colour there, everything else was picked out in greys, except for the tiniest splash of red on one of the figures.
Virgil couldn't remember the last time Scott painted anything, another one of the talents his eldest brother had that had been deemed unnecessary and left alone, and he appreciated the effort this must have taken Scott.
While he'd been laid up, unable to paint or play and had been thoroughly frustrated, his brother had done this. And Virgil knew exactly where it would go, pride of place in his bedroom.
A reminder of both his brother and his 'bird.