Post by doodle :) on Jan 3, 2022 4:54:21 GMT -5
At the forefront of the art museum’s lobby, a great red curtain swayed apart. A hundred hands burst into respectful but impressed applause. An immense screen was revealed, flashing bright colors in a series of triangular patterns, drawn from lines and angles sharp enough to cut. For a moment, the crowd collectively staggered – some even winced. When they looked at the screen, all they could see was the glaring colorful lights burning into them from different angles, the angles sporadically changing until there was a sense that one was surrounded, and that was before the sound kicked on – a snarling bass sound, like the static of a huge radio, that beeped shrilly once before it finally settled into a catchy, repetitive tune that people could dance to. By that time, the flashing of the animated digital painting had become manageable; either it had been programmed to become less stimulating overtime, or everyone had grown used to the stimulation, no one could tell. Don Giovanni swept up before his painting, arms thrown open, grinning from ear to ear. For forty years, he had been preeminent among artists in the Capitol, having earned dozens of accolades over the course of his career. In his freetime, he taught at the Capitol’s top universities, a rather old hobby of his. As such, he was something of a legend, as old as he was. And with this new portrait, he had once again failed to disappoint. Everyone cheered and whistled at his appearance.
Today, in honor of the grand reveal of Don Giovanni’s new painting, the museum’s lobby was decorated with all of his most recent works. All animated digital paintings, all of which were essentially shapes in some pattern of movement or light, either arranged to make a person or a thing or nothing tangible whatsoever. He was well-loved. Everyone congratulated him as he strutted about, the rhinestones of his peacock-blue suit glimmering in all the flashing lights. Giovanni was prone to flitting during events. He never settled down; conversations lasted less than a minute with him.
Then, suddenly, the rover stopped short. He stared, wide-eyed. Then he grinned from ear to ear, either in malice or delight.
One of his old students leaned against the wall at a distance, nursing some brandy. He noticed Giovanni. He smiled and waved.
Giovanni swept upon Hernani, brandishing his arms as though for an embrace. “I didn’t think you’d make it!” he cried out, locking his elbow around Hernani’s neck. “Figured you’d be off slaving away at your commissions!”
“Got them done early,” Hernani grinned. “Congratulations, for the upteenth time!”
“Ahh, it’ll be you someday, probably, maybe, don’t worry! Well, maybe if you actually appealed to the galleries rather than the…you know, everyone else.” Giovanni grinned as though he were teasing. He wasn’t.
“Just trying to make ends meet at this rate,” Hernani spoke as though it were no big deal. It was. “Interesting concept there.” Hernani gestured at the painting with his glass. “Is it meant to signify the Games?”
Giovanni’s gaze affixed itself to Hernani’s face with all the patience and tenderness of a parasite. “Love.”
Hernani pressed his lips together. He took a quick sip of brandy. Glanced at the floor, then at Giovanni, and started laughing. “What’s the difference? You know, that commission I was working on was from this lady who wanted me to do these portraits of her favorite victors. Ten of them. She had ten favorite victors, like, my God, I’ve a few myself, but how do you even keep track of…that…many…”
Giovannio didn’t laugh. Hernani shut up. Quietly, Giovanni seized the glass of brandy from Hernani’s submissive hand. “Maybe don’t drink and critique art at the same time, kid.” Then he strode off, sipping from the brandy glass as though it had always been his.
Hernani sighed through his nose. Slid his hands into his pockets. Patiently waited for the ground to open up and devour him, or at the very least turn invisible for a few merciful seconds. Then changed his mind. “Jack-ass,” he muttered under his breath, and began prowling around for more alcohol.
