Private Familiar Strangers

[Corin Trenor]

CORIN
JEDI TEMPLE | CORUSCANT
TAG: Iris Arani

So often sullen, and yet Iris eased these small, wry smirks.

His stiffened, guarded posture fell to the wayside, with crossed arms becoming undone and falling beside him as he watched her from the corner of his gaze. Iris had that effect on Corin, then and now, equally as powerless to stop it.

"Hm," the faintest scoff strengthened the crease in his mouth, if even the smallest amount more.

He accepted the brush and examined her set up. It was an unclean thing, messy in a manner that best resembled an organized chaos. The impeccably clean bristles spoke to that, Corin supposed.

"But what should I paint?" He asked, wondering. Turning from the empty canvas to Iris, "How do you know what to paint?"

 

[Iris Arani]

​

"What you feel is a good start. I'd say paint what you see, but when I say that I mean y'know, the colors." She gestured vaguely around them. The colors she'd seen all her life, asleep or not. Eyes open or not. She'd shown them only once to Corin, and given how he'd reacted then so long ago she wasn't keen on pulling him back into the overwhelming mess.

She straightened up, idly adjusting her towel as she set up some paints. "It's a trick I teach students, actually. Letting your feelings guide you. Jedi aren't unfeeling machines after all, but to keep yourself from being controlled by your emotions you need to know them, mm?" A brief smile, then Iris turned to head back to her room.

"Focus on painting for a bit. I'm going to at least finish my treatment for the day, probably another half hour. Didn't check the time when I saw you'd arrived, at least."

Corin Trenor

 

[Corin Trenor]

CORIN
JEDI TEMPLE | CORUSCANT
TAG: Iris Arani

To say the least, Corin was far from a painter.

The concept never cried out to him, neither did any manner of creative outlets. It explained some questionable choices in his younger years, and the lack thereof at times. To be so embroiled, now, in what he perceived Iris' world to be, was a confronting thing.

His grasp on the brushes was clumsy, undignified. For what felt the longest time, Corin sat there in quiet contemplation. Of what to paint, how it is that someone comes to that conclusion and expresses it across the canvas. He breathed a long sigh, eyes closed. Then, put brush to canvas.

A desert. A bland one, too. Hardly by design, but a lack of skill. His sand was a beige, both too bright and somehow too dull at the same time. Decidedly off. The sky was empty an a low, grey blue. The sun seemed as if it was dying, oblong and too large, streaking out across the canvas. He tried to add smaller details, like wayward stones or touches of gradients, lighting, and so on. Though even once he decided he was finished, Iris was still in her treatment, and so he continued to add more and more. It became busy with small details, like a lone bird. It resembled a hawk he'd once seen on Wrea.

He liked Wrea, and that hawk. He saw a piece of himself in it, he thought.

By the time he was finished, he sat with an contemplative look upon his on work. Unaware of the paint that ran along his fingers and forearms, dripped onto his vest, undershirt and pants alike.

 

[Iris Arani]

​

"A lone hawk in a desert?"

Iris, now actually dressed in the simple robe of a Jedi at least, peered over Corin's shoulder to look over the painting. The effort behind it spoke volumes on his interest in at least trying, though the dullness of it brought a soft smile to her face. Denon was a cityworld that never slept, filled with dazzling and oppressive neon lights, a hustle and bustle of trillions with crowded streets.

"Looks like you did find something you liked in your travels, at least. You should take me there some time."

Corin Trenor

 

[Corin Trenor]

TAG: Iris Arani

"I rarely visit the same place twice," lamented Corin, handling whichever troubles burdened it and travelling to the next weary world. "Though wherever I have to go next, I'll gladly take you with me."

He paused for a moment.

"If your treatments will allow it, that is." He said, "Has it got any worse?"