WW XXXIV - Artistic Rivalries

[Ayshela]

The Mayor of Dalton smiled broadly. There were still a few days before the art contest opened properly, and nearly every space was already reserved. The few who were not taken could be used later for such things as ballot boxes (so that the public thought they had a voice in who won) and promotion "of the arts and artists" so if he decided to do this again there would be even MORE people vying for the chance to produce marvelous artwork at below-market prices.

 

His smile grew to a greedy grin as once more he tallied the entrance fees.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

"...and with great pride I welcome you to the Artistic Phenomenon!" Mayor Kincaid turned with a flourish and cut the yellow ribbon spanning the gallery entrance. He was immediately pushed aside by the crowd who, having endured another long-winded rambling speech, couldn't wait to see if there was anything worth the wait.

 

Inside the rushing crowd slowed to a crawl, staring slackjawed at the broad skylit space. Aisles laid out in a careful grid held large, carefully decorated display spaces. Each "room" was ten feet deep and twelve feet long, carpeted and furnished, painted or wallpapered, carefully lighted as each artist chose. Sculpture on pedestals, blown glass, pottery, and paintings large as life or smaller than one's pocket all vied for attention. Volunteers at the doors handed out ballots and directed people further in, trying to make way for the rest of the crowd.

 

Each artist, each contestant knew that every good impression was critical. Nearly as one they took a deep breath, pasted on their best smiles, and prepared to meet the throng.

[Patrick]

Pierre was french. Not only in the way that he spoke, but the way that he acted and the way that he dressed. He wore a black and white striped jumper, a beret on his head and loose, almost baggy trousers. Or truezerz as he would have called them.

 

As the crowds flooded inside the exhibition area, a few curious ladies were the first to approach Pierre and his oil paintings.

 

"Good day to you Mesdemoiselles! I am zery pleezed to see zat you ave come! Come, come closer. Pierre will show you is oil payntings. Zis one ere," he said pointing at the centerpiece of his exposition, "iz of ze famoose french caseedral, ze Notre dame in Paris. It iz a very populaire soobject with ze painters back home..."

 

On and on he went, presenting each of his paintings to anyone who cared to watch, always pleasant, and always talking a lot.

[Verileah]

Ignoring the ‘no smoking’ signs, Milo pulled out a slim cigarette out of a shiny chrome case and waited for one of the members of his entourage to offer a light. He could hear people scrambling behind him and graciously found something interesting to look at until a lighter could be produced. Finally someone succeeded in what he privately thought should be a relatively simple task, and he glided down the hallway, taking long, slow drags and blowing smoke toward the ceiling as he went.

 

He never spoke a word to anyone, but every so often he would stop, bringing his followers to a screeching halt behind him, and snap his fingers before pointing at an individual who had in some way captured his attention. That was all the cue his ‘friends’ needed; someone in the party would inevitably scurry forward and offer up a business card with his name, and nothing else, printed neatly in the center. Just four little letters, but that card signaled his approval, and Milo thought there was nothing more important than his good opinion of the people at this little gathering.

 

Of course everyone knew who he was – he was sure of it, and in fact he was quite confident that he could hear whispers as he passed. Words like ‘genius’, ‘eccentric’, and ‘handsome’ reached his ears, and he couldn’t imagine they could mean anyone else but him.

 

God, he was handsome.

 

Sighing absently, he gave the last room a bored look and put his cigarette out in what he thought was an ashtray but might, upon closer examination, have been a priceless sculpture. It was time for him to return to his own portion of the show, to have another tiresome conversation with more tiresome people about his own tiresome art.

[Mithrandin]

Dennis was no man to wait for no grand openings. Those who came to the exhibit by the west side of the museum were greeted by another of DC’s bombing or so called free art. He had tagged his name from top to bottom of the museum west wing. Inside his room was empty, a sign on the entrance read, GO OUT!

[Tanuchan]

Cornelia looked at Ebenizer - she was glad their assigned booths were side by side.

 

"Ebby, please - straighten that jacket!" she hissed, glaring at the crumpled jacket. "You are just looking sloppy, not mysterious at all! And why couldn't you have shaved this morning?"

 

Ebenizer shrank at the use of the nickname - in all these years, he had never convinced Cornelia to stop using it. He looked at her with what he hoped was a glare, but that came across more like a pouting. "I need the stubble, Cory!"

 

She sighed, and shuddered. Why can't Ebby stop calling me that??

 

Her reply was suddenly cut short by a gasp, and she ran to save her precious LllySpider - an exquisite small sculpture that had taken her a week of work, made of cut cans and discarded straws. Someone - she thought his name was Milo - had non-chalantly just put out a cigarette on it!

 

Cornelia barely had the chance to glare at Milo's back before some visitors stopped by, and she put on her best smile to show them the marvels she was able to create out of what most people thought as trash.

[GLJordan]

Giles look through the exhibts and thought to himself "well I supose their is some real artwork here amongst the mud" before returning to his art and resuming his reading of a book Edited May 24, 2007 by Giles Jordan

[Finnius]

Meanwhile, Ed tried and failed to present his latest artistic vision - 'Still Life Reflecting Man's Decadent Nature' to a crowd of uninterested art patrons.

 

"Ah, you see..." He wrung his hands, sweating nervously from his palms. The effect was something like two leather gloves covered in baby oil and flung into a washing machine. "It, ah... it, ah... represents the, ah... decadent... nature. Of man."

 

One of the art critics in the crowd thumbed a pair of tasteful glasses further up her nose.

 

"Well obviously, that is the name of the piece. But, in what way does it reflect this, Mister..?"

 

"Ed. My friends call me... erm... Ed."

 

After a moment of silent waiting and hoping that would satisfy both questions, Ed realized he'd have to actually come up with something. The truth was, Ed had woken up late today, as he generally did, and didn't have time to prepare a proper work of art, so he'd done a slapdash job - took a picture of the first vaguely avant garde image he saw, then named it as pretentiously as possible. In this case, it seemed to have worked too well, as witnessed by the small crowd of art critics he was gathering. Ed plucked up his courage and soldiered on.

 

It probably didn't help that he had to keep looking back to remember what the picture looked like.

 

"The, ah... the smoke, there, symbolizes... man's... erm... it's a, whatchacallit, meterfor... for, the, ah, right, the tenuous nature of the... psyche?" Ed loosened his collar a bit, letting a surprisingly hot blast of air out. Crowds always made him nervous. "And the, erm, the ashtray, it, to say, well, is a... an... erm... repre... sen... tation... of the modern society? And yeah, see, it's obviously not a very good ashtray, right, so it's kind of saying that, erm, modern society is, ah, a flawed... um... construct. Right."

 

The art critic with the tasteful glasses sniffed slightly and Ed watched in horror as her nose went up in the air haughtily.

 

"Mister, ah, Ed was it? Forgive me for asking, and I'm sure it's just a coincidence, but that looks an awful lot like you just took a picture of the cigarette someone put out on Cornelia Chesterfield's LilySpider. Obviously, I must be mistaken."

 

Ed put on his most winning smile, which is to say there were teeth and his mouth turned vaguely, if somewhat unsettlingly, upwards. He'd never really gotten the hang of smiling. A thin trail of sweat ran down his forehead, making it look as if his scalp were weeping.

 

"Ah..." In a moment of brilliance, Ed fiddled around in his coat pocket, flipped open his cell phone, and laughed politely. "Excuse me, just a, ah, moment, won't you?"

 

Ed the Fish ducked around a corner, pretending to jabber away, and moved swiftly and decisively away from 'Still Life Reflecting Man's Decadent Nature.'

Edited May 23, 2007 by Finnius

[Merelas]

I should underline that...

 

Jordan looked up from his book only momentarily as the crowds poured in to see the exhibits. He had designed his booth to highlight his work, and he hoped that he wouldn't need to talk to do so. Onto the walls of the "room" were plastered sketches of all kinds and sizes. Colored pencil, pencil, ink pen, charcoal on papers of all sizes were spread out across the walls. On a table in the center were sketchbooks, notebooks full of more drawings, and Jordan couldn't tell what else he needed to do to impress the people.

 

Suddenly he had an idea. Jordan grabbed one of the sketchbooks from the table in the center of his booth, and resumed his post on the stool outside the booth. As people stopped by to look, he made a few quick lines with the pencil he had been using to notate his book. Watching the patron as they wandered throguh the display, he finished as they exited, and handed the sketch to them.

 

"You're welcome," he said, looking down again for the next sketch.

[Ayshela]

The first day ended with the last of the crowd slowly trickling toward the doors. Most of the artists spent their evening cleaning and rearranging their spaces, removing the evidence of the previous day's traffic. Just after the display's security staff did their reports at shift change, one by one the artists and staff members left to rest for tomorrow - or spend the night celebrating the day's successes.

 

Early next morning boredom lifted for the overnight security staff. Several city staff members had come in to replace the ballot boxes and restock each ballot distribution point. Most had already left for their regular offices when security officer Craig stood looking at a pair of distinctly female feet protruding from the ballot table skirt. Peering over the table he initially saw nothing but a box of folded ballots with a hat beside it. Eyes narrowing, he stepped behind the table and looked again.

 

The ambulance arrived quickly, but the first visitors were just arriving as a sheet covered stretcher was wheeled out. Murmurs rose to shouted questions as officer Craig was helped in afterward. No answers were given until that day's paper, which read "Ballots bury city worker: Security guard finds volunteer smothered by art contest ballots."

 

 

OOC: Someone stunned a volunteer and dropped a box of freshly printed ballots on her head. As you try to determine who could and would have done this, be prepared for someone to whisper in your ear what YOUR role in this is.

Game roles will be PM'd to each of you in a moment.

 

This is DAY PHASE. Please place your votes in an OOC line in your post. Night phase will begin at 6pm Pacific Time MONDAY.

[Mithrandin]

Waking up late as usual after a night of work, DC zombied around the apartment to get something to eat.

 

He!he! Those people will get quite a surprise when they go open the ehxibit today he, he! DC has just made a gigantic bomb hit on the floor before the entrance museum, a jungle it was filled with wild and free beasts

 

Turning on the TV, DC almost choke with the news, after all he was the one to be surprised. He jumped into some clothings and went out

[GLJordan]

Curious smothering suggest trouble breathing. The only person I know who has trouble breathing is that fish fellow

 

Finnius/Ed the Fish

[Patrick]

Pierre heard the news while driving to the exhibition in his car, which was of course a french car. Pierre drove a 1978 Citröen 2 CV, which he had bought from a collector upon arriving in the United States. The car, despite being almost 30 years old, and having been repaired more times than Pierre could remember was still in good shape. He did not attribute much importance to the news and did not check the crime scene at the art gallery. After all, the motive of the crime could have been anything. He headed over to his own booth and settled in for another day of explaining his paintings to the visitors.

 

OOC: Vote for Mithrandin/Dennis Cleaver (DC)

[Merelas]

Jordan showed up to the gallery exhibit right before it opened, having just heard about the terrible accident. It had to be an accident. He was rebellious, but he still couldn't imagine anyone doing such a thing... and could a person really drown in little scraps of paper? The whole thing sounded rather dodgy.

 

Like that frenchman. Jordan wasn't a racist, but still. Pierre had been acting rather funny lately.

 

OOC: Vote for Patrick/Pierre

Edited May 28, 2007 by Merelas

[Tanuchan]

Upon hearing the news, Cornelia barged into the adjoining run with barely a perfunctory knocking.

 

"Ebby! Ebby, are you still asleep? We will be late! And there are news!"

 

At her shrill voice, Ebenizer jumped out of bed making an effort to appear wide awake. "Of course I'm not asleep, Cory!"

 

Cornelia looked critically at Ebenizer's Care Bears™ Pajamas and shook her head, deciding the news could wait. "Ebby, you really should consider going for more classical pajamas. Or more exotic ones. I can't really bear those..." she pointed randomly, and Ebenizer followed her finger to find Cheer Bear.

 

He frowned, partly at being called Ebby, partly because he didn't understand what she was on about. They were ninja Care Bears™, weren't they?

 

She sighed and rolled her eyes, pushing him towards the bathroom. Then she proceeded to lay out on bed the clothes for him to wear on this day. Surely enough, when Ebenizer finally came out of his bedroom he was wearing something completely different from what Cornelia had chosen so carefully, and he just opened the door with a "you first" look. She rolled her eyes again, and both spent the rest of the way to the café, and then the art exhibit premises, arguing about pajamas, ninja Care Bears, and Ebenizer's stubble.

 

 

 

 

While examining LilySpider to be sure it had not been further damaged by cigarettes, Cornelia wondered about the crime of the previous night. She didn't really think anyone would go as far as killing without a reason, and she wasn't sure how much of a reason the contest was. And smothered by ballots? That just looked ridiculous... as if someone was too distracted to care about where the ballots were spilled on.

 

Distracted? Hmm... and uncaring. I wonder.

 

She looked again at LilySpider, and put it far from Milo's gaze. Instead of it, she dragged a somewhat bigger sculpture made of milk cartons, pet food cans, and zippy bags. Black Hand, she had called it - an abstract representation of the stormy day when she had made it.

 

 

=========

OOC: vote for Mylo/Verileah

[Venefyxatu]

Ebenizer's thoughts kept returning to the news of the day, especially as to how the murder had happened. Smothered by ballots? For some reason the word "Unlikely" kept floating through his mind. To test this theory, he picked up one of the blank sheets that he'd taken along to write on during the boring moments of the day, looked up and put it over his face. After a full minute of not choking he was about to decide it was impossible, when a sharp hiss from Cory made him start, causing the paper to float to the floor.

 

"Ebby, what are you doing?"

 

"Nothing specific ... besides, artists are supposed to be eccentric."

 

With another roll of her eyes, Cornelia told him to be a little less obviously eccentric and hurried over to someone who was ignoring the smoking ban in the building a little too closely to her LilahSpider.

 

Ebenizer just sighed and rearranged his table a little to show one of his most favourite maps a little better.

 

OOC : Voting for Merelas - Jordan Mountjoy ******************* (reasoning removed ... sorry)

Edited May 29, 2007 by Venefyxatu

[Verileah]

Milo had abandoned his cigarettes in favor of flipping a coin back and forth over his fingers; what had looked 'cool' yesterday would only be seen as a nervous weakness today. Someone had been murdered, and it wasn't a stretch to see why. Clearly there was vote tampering at work - why else would ballots be involved?

 

Looking over his shoulder at his entourage, he pondered the possibilities. If someone wanted to win this competition that desperately, Milo believed they would have to kill him next; after all, he had to be the front runner. That was reason enough to be uncomfortable, but additionally Milo thought that someone might want to kill him out of pure jealousy, whether he was winning votes or not. Considering how brilliant he was, his death was practically a forgone conclusion.

 

Paranoid or no, Milo thought he would avoid being alone today.

 

How a horrible, freak murder of an innocent woman had been twisted in Milo's mind into being entirely about him, he couldn't have said, any more than the sun could explain why it was the center of the universe. Even if he couldn't articulate it, though, Milo knew, intuitively, that he was in terrible danger. At least he still had his looks. And if he died now, who knew how much his work might be worth?

 

OOC:

Edit - taking out my reasoning (at least until I get a handle on the rules :X). Sorry!

 

My vote goes to Merelas - Jordan Mountjoy.

Edited May 29, 2007 by Verileah

[Mithrandin]

Upon arrival, DC noticed everyone was already there, each one on his little boxes...

 

Blah, there people will live their lives stucked in their own litle minds....worst... they are getting dangerous...

 

He then changed the sign on the entrance to his space. Painted over the previous one, GO PLAY OUTSIDE!

 

Hmmm... all these geeks seem so harmless...I can't believe it...

 

OOC: vote goes to Finnius / Ed the Fish

Edited May 28, 2007 by Mithrandin

[Ayshela]

Early visitors were greeted by the flashing lights of an ambulance parked at the gallery entrance. Three policemen ushered all the staff members out to the sidewalk and tried to keep them separate from the growing crowd. A reporter ran up and started shouting questions to the policemen, but broke off as the stretcher was wheeled out.

 

"You'll have a statement in ten minutes," one of the officers told the stunner reporter as he took the staff members back inside.

 

Just over ten minutes later he reappeared in front of the gallery doors. "Jordan Mountjoy was found by a staff member this morning. He was lying unconscious in his display area. By all appearances he tipped backwards in his chair and hit his head as he fell. The gallery will be closed today." He was back inside the locked doors of the gallery before anyone could ask, since Jordan had no heavy frames or pedestals in his display, how he had hit his head with such force?

 

The crowd stood murmuring for several moments before slowly dispersing.

 

 

OOC: With two votes each for Merelsa and Finnius, it goes to the dice for tiebreaker. Randomness determines the lynching victim to be Merelas/Jordan Mountjoy, who was an innocent villager.

 

It is now NIGHT PHASE. Specials - PM your targets. All of you - you may roleplay and interact to your heart's content, but no accusations until day phase, which will begin at 10am on Wednesday (all times given in Pacific Time).

=)

[Finnius]

By the time Ed had completed his circuit of the gallery in an attempt to escape the heat of his earlier attempted artistic assassination at the hands of the reporter with the tasteful yet ominous glasses, the stupid thing was closed and taped off. Both surprised and relieved, Ed went home. There may have been a murder, and there was as he found out the next morning, but at least it gave him time to figure out what he was actually going to submit.

 

And so, Ed took a day off. What was there about being an artist that made you so... lazy? Ed didn't know, and he didn't really care to know, to be perfectly honest. He spent his day away from the gallery taking a walk, going to the dentist (where he got an excellent idea for a submission), and setting up a particularly tricky shot that he was sure couldn't fail to impress the artsy, black-clad, berret-wearing, and most importantly bespectacled art critics.

 

He called it 'Abscessed Tooth Representing the Decay of Modern Society' and the hardest part was getting the high-zoom lens and flasher to fit propery into his mouth. Ed loved his art, sometimes so much that it hurt.

 

Once he'd finished, though, oh the picture there was... it was brilliant, showers of red and tiny yellow globules against a stark white monolith, rich black and green blossoms of pus gently surrounding and caressing the base of the tooth like an ardent, if somwhat disgusting, lover. Ha! Let's see them scoff at this one!

 

Unfortunately, by the time Ed was finished and got back to the gallery, it was once again closed and taped off. And so, Ed took another day off.

[Tanuchan]

Cornelia had sighed in an exasperated way at seeing one more day wasted, and had decided to go shopping. She usually found new ideas while looking at the trash in the stores, specially those who sold DIY stuff; however, this time she had decided to visit a small, new mall not far from her apartment.

 

She entered the apartment with a big smile, carrying two big bags full of several kinds of discarded material. One could see some giftwrapping implements, ribbons, pieces of colored plastic, and something that looked suspiciously like moulded bread but that, on closer look, was just part of a broken toy. From one of the bags she picked up a package, and left it on Ebenizer's bed.

 

There. Hope that takes care of it.

 

Looking at it again, she pondered then took the brand-new polka-dotted pajamas out of the shiny bag. She threw the pajamas on the bed, already forgetting them while crumpling the plastic then spreading it out to see the effect against the lights. Musing, muttering to herself, she went to her table in the living room and started working on a new sculpture.

[Ayshela]

Pierre stayed behind long enough to hear a whispered comment from Officer Craig. Speculation and suspicion drifting across his face, he spent the day wandering town looking for someone he never saw - not even as he felt hands at his back, or as he twisted and fell from the rooftop overlooking the gallery.

 

OOC: Patrick/Pierre was killed by the wolf - a good choice, as he was the Seer.

 

It is now Day Phase, time for wolf hunting. Good luck! If all goes well - or somewhere close to as planned - this phase will end Saturday evening. RP all you want between now and then - it makes the story fun for everyone - but please have votes posted by 6pm Saturday.

 

Scorecard in the OOC thread.

[GLJordan]

upon hearing/seeing the body, "Well that is repulsive reminds me of the fishy fellows newest picture. They both make me want to throw up among other things" thinks Giles

 

Finnius / Ed the Fish once again

[Finnius]

Outside the gallery, Ed stood forlorn in the rain. He would have liked to think he'd make a dashing figure, mysterious and brooding, but he knew better. He looked more than a slightly overweight, puffy-cheeked man in a damp overcoat. 'Abscessed Tooth Representing the Decay of Modern Society' hadn't been nearly the success he'd hoped, even drawing some very unkind criticism from several onlookers. One in particular had made a very nasty face at it, and while Ed had a thick skin (care of his mother's side of the family, they were prone to warts) it still stung.

 

Well, Ed would show them. He'd find the best, most wonderful scene ever, and shoot it in such a way as to bring out all the inner beauty and understated grandiosity that, in a deep part of his slightly damp heart, Ed knew to exist in the world.

 

It was at that point that he realised it wasn't actually raining, and he was just standing under a sprinkler. Ed went to get his camera.

 

OOC - A vote for Giles / Giles. *sniff*

 

Edit - And only an hour and a half late! Heh...heh... sorry 'Shela. *blush*

Edited June 3, 2007 by Finnius

[Mithrandin]

DC spent the day roaming around on the other artists places. No idea on his mind...

 

One thing caught his eye, "Abscessed Tooth Representing the Decay of Modern Society", now that is something.... Still DC was unable to classify it... either genuinely pure or stupid dumb... I think I'll ask him to take some pics from my paintings and see what he can actually manage.

 

and off he wandered to check the rest of the artists

 

ooc: vote for.... Verileah - Milo

[Venefyxatu]

When Ebenizer heard the news of another death, he started wondering whether the art contest was somehow haunted ... or cursed. It did give him a nice idea for a manuscript, though, so he immediately went to work ...

 

OOC : voting for Mith / DC. Sorry 'bout being late and then throwing a few sentences together and calling it a post, I had a busy weekend >.<