Surrealism (Open)

[Amy/Kayla]

The art gallery was nearly empty, despite the fact that it was the middle of the day. From the outside the building looked completely unremarkable, a generic brick building. The building only had one story, but it was spread over a fairly large area There was only one door,and there appeared to be no windows. A small sign hung over the entrance, unobtrusive and simple.

McGill Art Gallery

Upon entering the building, however, one realizes that the building is anything but what it seems. While the walls had no windows, the ceiling was entirely made out of a thick glass. Sunlight illuminated the various art pieces so that they glowed fiercely.

It was this art gallery that had Amy captivated. She was entranced, and her face was more open than it had been in a while. The adolescent-looking demon was dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans and apurple shirt with a splattered paint design. A dreamy smile played on her lips as she floated from painting to painting,. She stopped in front of a particular one, a painting she was all too familiar with.

The painting depicted a girl in a plain white dress, a blond angelic child. The painting depicted the girl about ten feet in the air, doing a twirling little dance, completely unsupported. Although the girl was depicted as a fair distance away from the viewer, there was no doubt that the girl looked exactly like Amy...

Mostly because that's who the centuries old painting was of.

[The Quiet]

The Quiet had already been within the city for a few days now. He spent most of his time, wandering around alone and art Museums were among his favorite spots. Mostly because they were quiet. He had already visited the MoMa and the Guggenheim, as well as the New Museum. They were all technically great of course, but ultimately forgettable.

He liked this museum a little more than some of the others, because there were so few people while he was there, and that made it very quiet. The Quiet liked it when it was quiet.


Quiet was a bit of an artist himself, but he was beginning to fail as one. Lately he found himself unable to connect with the world and constantly found himself running away from it.

Quiet let out a loud sigh. He could guess the paintings were all wonderful with out coming, but nothing truly spoke out to him.

It was hard for him to see any beauty in this ugly world, after everything that's happened.

But then, Quiet noticed something. It was a young girl, admiring a painting. What was odd is that, at first glance he thought he saw had seen two girls, possibly sisters, but one was floating above the other.

When he took a second glance it was a young girl looking up at a painting of another girl. What was so striking was that the girls looked so similar. It was as if the girl's soul was dancing with in the painting.

After staring for a few second, Quiet caught himself and looked away, but as he did he wondered in his head, 'Was that beauty?'

[Amy/Kayla]

Amy was still absorbed in her memories, still admiring the perfection that the artist had managed to display on the canvas. Even Kayla was looking out of the girls' eyes, absorbed in her own image , although she was taking a rest day today. Amy's hand reached out to lightly touch the painting, but before she could get close she heard a loud sigh from behind her.

Amy's raised hand froze in mid air, then slowly retreated itself back. She did not want to risk getting kicked out of the gallery, even though normally she would have totally ignored the rule. She did not turn right away either, but waited a little before slowly turning to look at the man who had interrupted her.

She watched as the man quickly looked away, and almost went back to ogle the painting some more. The only thing that changed her mind was the desire to reach out and touch the artwork. Amy figured that if the man wasn't an employee of the store, he wouldn't mind if she just felt the canvas.

Boldly, she approached the man.

"Excuse me sir, I need a little help. Do you by any chance work here?"

[The Quiet]

The Quiet looked down to the young girl. He nodded his head from left to right, signaling no.

The Quiet was not surprised he was asked such a simple question. Despite his unique past and abilities, he dressed quite normally. Mostly casual formal. He was wearing black slacks with a white dress shirt. He was wearing black work boots, but the sleeves of his pants covered most of the part that would give it away as boots. Plus black shoes mostly went with everything. Another thing odd might be the fact that he was wearing both a black belt as well as black suspenders.

Suspenders were not exactly common, but then again they weren't exactly weird. At least Quiet didn't think it was weird. Aside from that, he didn't have any unfortunate disfigurements or unique facial traits. Thus, he was you're average looking joe, ultimately forgettable. He blended in with most crowds, and wasn't worth a second look. However in this small gallery he was the only other person the girl could really ask, unless someone else happened along.

Quiet had nodded no to her question if he worked there. That was the truth, but he wanted to still help her if he could, and to show this he bent down and crouched to be more on her level. He looked her straight in the eyes, but remained silent as he always was, waiting for her to continue.

[Amy/Kayla]

The man didn't answer with a yes or no, but with a simple shake of his head. Amy waited expectantly for him to give her some verbal confirmation of that fact, but the man just bent down and listened, as if he wanted her to continue or follow up with another question.

Amy hadn't anticipated this move. She was a little unnerved by the man's direct gaze, and didn't really know what to say. The man had caught her at a time where she was relatively unguarded, wasn't prepared to deal with people in general.

"So you wouldn't mind if I just touched that painting?" Amy said confidently, moving her head in the paintings direction and looking directly into his eyes. Amy was tempted to delve into the silent man's mind, but decided to wait and attempt to scan him while under the pretense of looking over the painting again.

[The Quiet]

It was an odd request, and wasn't quite what he was hoping for, but The Quiet didn't have any particular quarrel with it either. He couldn't 'help' her, but not everyone needed saving. He looked to the painting for a moment, then back to her.

She really shouldn't, but he doubted she wanted to destroy or vandalize it since it did look a lot like her. Unless... that was her reason for why she wanted to. In the end, it wasn't any of Quiet's business, and the prospect of snitching on her wasn't high on his list.

To answer her question, he looked back to her and then simply closed his eyes and shrugged as if to say 'don't care'.

After, he stood up and decided he'd keep watch of her. He looked very innocent, standing there. He looked away towards another painting, and instead used his peripheral vision to watch for rash movements. If she looked like she would do something naughty, he'd step in. As soon as that thought entered his mind, he immediately began planning how exactly he would do that. First his mind came up with several scenarios of what 'naughty' meant. Scratching with her nails, knocking the painting off, stabbing with some hidden implement. Then of course thought up methods to counter these movements. Naturally he'd planned to use his teleportation power to instantaneously step in. Of course the word choice of 'naughty' was an unfortunate choice and some other scenarios entered his mind, but he quickly disregarded them.

His mind came up with these scenarios quickly and with in a second he had already sorted them amongst the most likely, and the worst outcomes. Of course most of these plans were 'worst case scenarios,' but that was a habit of Quiet's.

Plan for the worst, but expect the best.

It was only an moment of passing thoughts, but Quiet, realized he had fallen into his old habits again. He brought his hand up to hide his face in shame, and shook his head. His years of leading a resistance against his father's organization had trained his mind to think situation ahead, and to plan out tactics quickly on the fly as combat situations often called for.

However, that was all behind him now. He really needed to stop this madness. It was depressing.

[Amy/Kayla]

Amy gave the silent man her best smile, then flitted towards the painting again, not looking back at him. She appreciated how the man was being helpful, but couldn't figure out why he wasn't talking. Could he just not speak English? No, he understood her pretty well... He must be a mute. This mystery was just another reason to get into the man's mind.

Amy stepped directly in front of the painting again, this time softly touching the frame. Her soft touch traveled across the mahogany wood, until she was just on the edge of the frame, bordering on the canvas. She didn't want to ruin the finish, so she skipped her hand over to where the girl was. She touched the white dress softly, then her hand retreated back to hanging by her side.

At this point, Kayla took over the body. Amy was planning on delving pretty deep.Kayla didn't even argue this time, she wanted to look at the painting more.

As Amy scanned the surface of the man's mind, and immediately she received a wealth of information. She saw her self in multiple scenarios, ripping and clawing at the painting, stabbing it, doing all sorts of things to destroy it. Even the thought of wrecking the painting made Amy shudder, but she noticed instantly that the Amy in the man's mind was younger and more innocent looking than in real life.

Amy managed to pick out that the man's name, Kenji Ausamatu, and that he was a gifted one, before she delved completely into the man's mind

[white]The road stretched infinitely, one forward line going in different directions. The road was the only thing that could be seen... anything outside the road was just white expanse of nothingness. Through the whiteness, tears were evident revealing chaos beyond it. Although there was no visible light souce, Amy's shadow was very defined and stretched along the infinite road in both ways.

Amy first panicked, as she found that she could not move her mouth or her legs. She stood, looking around. She could still use her arms, so she reached out onto the ground, touching her own shadow. Her hand went through her shadow, and Amy melted in altogether.

The road isn't what you walk on... it's what you walk in. She thought, amazed. She walked as her shadow along the endless expanse of road, until she spotted an ornate white door on the edge of the road. Cautiously, she emerged out of her shadow. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

The scene immediately changed. [/white]

[red]Kayla turned around, suddenly conscious of the man's eyes on her. She sighed. He's making sure I don't do anything bad she though cynically.

"Hey, don't let me ruin your visit to the gallery! Come on, check out this painting with me!" She called to him. Kayla kind of liked the man, he seemed collected and he didn't talk too much. People who talked too much tended to bore Kayla. She beckoned the man over with an impatient wag of her finger. [/red]

((Sorry for wall of text, I got carried away. I tried to be as brief as possible though))

[The Quiet]

The Quiet rubbed his temple, he had a strange feeling... or a strange thought. He couldn't quite place it, but his thoughts were quickly interrupted when he heard the girl call out to him. There was something different about the way she was speaking now. He couldn't quite place it... but it there was something different about her. The manner of speech was less reserved, maybe she was just being shy before.

He looked to her with a bit of a forced, smile and walked over to stand next to her. He didn't understand what joining her would accomplish, but he didn't want to neglect her. He was wary of neglecting young impressionable girls, like had done in the past. If he had paid just a little bit more attention to Eleanor when they were younger, things could have turned out so much differently.

But the more time he spent idling here with her, the more he felt the pressure of more pressing matters. There was that whole business with Raven he had nagging at him from the back of his mind, tugging at his heart strings in a deep pit of his soul.

But just by concentrating on the here and the now, he was able to ignore all of that, and with just a little effort he could smile.

He walked over to were the young girl was, looking up at the painting. He took a thinking pose, resting his left elbow in his right hand and resting his chin in his left hand. He looked at the painting intently.

He analyzed every stroke, every slight variation of color. He took in the various thickness of the layers of paint through out the painting, and the texture that was created from that. He admired pose of the subject and how the artist brought the subject's form together to be recognizable with out being a unnecessarily detailed as a realism painting might be. A completely realist painting wouldn't have quite the same feel. It all came to gathered, culminating together to convey the overall feeling of wistful freedom and playful innocence the painting had.

It was very nice.

Also, the girl definitely had a striking resemblance to the young girl admiring it.

Any of these things would have been nice to say, and maybe he should have said it out loud. At the very least, he should have said something.

No matter what he could say, he couldn't shake the thought that it'd only be just words.

So instead, he remained silent and returned to his casual standing posture. He looked to down to the girl and smiled pleasantly. This, time he did not have to force himself.

This smile was his way of expressing the happiness this painting brought him, and no mere words could ever express that feeling any more than he had already done.

[Through the door]

There was a vast land with a multitude of emotion laden memories, cruel lessons, joyful Revelations, and empty victories, but all of it was closed off and locked away by a strong mixture of regret and shame. These strong emotions had formed thick walls that shielded Quiet, and Amy, from them.

The room that Amy stood in was a hallway. It that was mostly barren, empty, and spacious. The floors, walls, and ceiling, all were made of the same thick, cold, dull, concrete. There was no visible light source, but somehow the room was lighted.

In front of her and to the left, was a young girl. Someone who should look familiar to her. She looked just like Amy, except she was wearing the clothes from the painting. She was standing quietly in front of a door of her own. It looked like the kind of door you'd see on one of those small playhouses that some people kept in their backyard for their kids.

In front of her and to the right, slightly further away along the wall, there was a man standing in front of a rather large door. He was wearing a shirt, a hoddie, and a jacket, with the hoddie's hood up. He also had a blade, sheathed on each side of his hip.

Directly to the left and right of her, the hallway split off into smaller hallways. There were many doors neatly aligned, side by side, along these two hallways. Their walls were filled with these doors. They were all with in poor to average condition and most looked like the doors to an apartment or an office. At the end of each of these hallways were slightly larger doors, but both looked like apartment doors. Their quality was slightly better than the others.

Far in front of Amy the lighting seemed to fade into a vast and dark void. It was the unknown. This void was tomorrow, and there was no way to know for sure what lay ahead. Of course, one could take a few stabs at the darkness. For Quiet, he knew his future was at least somewhere with in this city, and if Amy were to peer into the darkness she would see a vast city with large dark buildings piercing a bright sky. The streets were not empty, but they were very lonely. The faceless people rushed to and fro, blurring into each other. The exact location appeared to be a surreal mock up of Time Square, and on a large screen, there appeared to be a picture of the painting that Quiet was admiring in reality.

The hallway it's self was a clean slate. With which, it would always be possible for the Quiet to move forward, no matter what would happen and despite everything that already had.

But no matter how far Quiet moved forward, the past would always be at the back of his mind. Likewise, no matter how far Amy moved, as soon as she were to turn around, the wall would be only a few steps behind her.

In the middle of this wall behind her, was the ornate door she had entered from, along with many other doors all of various sizes, shapes, and colors. Some new, some weathered, some were locked tightly, others were cracked open. Some of these doors also spilled unto the walls, ceiling and floor, behind her. The longer Amy stared at this wall, the larger it would seem to grow, and the more doors that would appear.

On the floor, directly behind Amy would be a door that looked like that of a cell door. Somehow she had walked right past it with out noticing. Or perhaps it hadn't existed until after it was behind her.

It was possible to see in between the bars. There another young girl stood seemingly defying gravity, or rather adhering to a different gravity. She did not look like Amy, she was completely different.

[Sorry, I ran with it... I tried to explain everything in Quiet's mind. So you have your choice of where you want to explore, it's all mostly open to Amy.]