Watching paint dry

Joined
Jan 15, 2019
Messages
1,103
Points
153
Your character watches a paint dry.

Feel free to describe them doing so.
 

AliceShiki

Magical Girl of Love and Justice
Joined
Dec 23, 2018
Messages
2,272
Points
153
Your character watches a paint dry.

Feel free to describe them doing so.
I guess it could be a one-shot of someone that is extremely stressed at their day-to-day life, that they just wanted a pause somewhere, doing nothing... And then they start literally watching paint dry while thinking of their life and what to do about it~

Or something like that. Could also just be the person thinking of the paint in itself for the sake of distracting themselves from everyday life~
 

King_Vaelin

New member
Joined
Jul 9, 2021
Messages
11
Points
3
I watched as the subtle hues interlaced with the primary color. God, I had never seen anything more beautiful. It was my masterpiece. Every stroke of my brush got me closer to climaxing, and yet I couldn't bring myself to do the deed. Not yet. I sat there taking it all in, stark naked in my birthday suit as I watched the paint dry. I wriggled my toes as I traced every stroke of my brush, a trail of paint in my wake of brilliance. I licked my chapped lips, beads of sweat rolling down my brow as the paint began to settle. So close...almost there...

Then I saw it. A split in the paint. A treacherous ravine making its way down my masterfully crafted strokes. I instantly went limp at the sight. Damn. I clenched my ass and got up, my brush gripped tightly in my right hand. Looks like I'll have to start again. Oh well. The longer the wait, the better the relief. I smiled and began again.


:s_wink:
 

ArcadiaBlade

I'm a Lazy Writer, So What?
Joined
Dec 23, 2018
Messages
510
Points
133
I stood there in silence while staring at a wall, thinking why am I doing something like this when I could be doing something else.

I just got off from work or was as the boss had fired me after making a mistake and even been find for his own failure. He acted arrogant like a king, thinking what he did was something he always do and how many people's lives he had put down like the wall's wet surface as how many paint it took to cover it all up.

This also reminded me how my wife who always seems happy to be with me, suddenly took off with another man, finding out he was rich and left me and our child alone in this cruel world. The wall represents how we cover ourselves by putting a coating on our insides as maybe this wall was once covered with beautiful paintings of life, made by street artist who wants to express themselves and grow mentally as do their art, only to be covered up by the thick coat of paint that is life as they cover the hidden darkness of the world itself.

Why am I like this? why am I staring at this? I still have my daughter to take care off while looking for another job. Yet, I can't seem to move and stare at the emptiness of this wall as it stare right back at me.

"You seem lost sir."

I turned to see a young man who was just younger than me, staring at the same wall I did. His dark eyes which shows that it was pitch black as it bore through the abyss of the darkness of human nature.

"Life seems unfair right?" He says as he continues to stare at the wall and smile at me while he closes his eyes.

"Yet we still persue something stupid and unknowning. Thats how humans work."

He didn't gaze at me nor just do anything and continue staring at the wet wall which was slowly drying up.

"Life seem endless to some however thats only for those whose end is near as a new life will soon be born to replace those who are gone. We can only live through a fleeting moment and await our fate but pass on our destiny to our future generations. Through life is a pain, there's also new discoveries to show happiness and even through our darkest moments, there will always be time for us to smile."

He then stares at me like an all-knowing being as I was shocked that I met someone who seems like an almighty god.

By the time I blink, I slowly realise that I open my eyes to see the same wall, however it was now completely dry and had now aged a bit.

I then remembered that I got into a new job which raised my rank to the same or higher status than my old boss as I had now completely divorce my wife who regretted her life and had remarried into a woman with a daughter as well.

It was all thanks to the mysterious person whom I met as my step-daughter was happily running towards me with another boy. As I approach them, I suddenly ran as I saw an incoming truck that was heading towards them and....

.......

My daughter was pushed away as the boy was run over by the truck, smugging the wall of our metting with red liquid. The boy at that moment was familiar to me as he smiled before meeting his fate with a truck.

To be continued.....
 
Joined
Jan 15, 2019
Messages
1,103
Points
153
I watched as the subtle hues interlaced with the primary color. God, I had never seen anything more beautiful. It was my masterpiece. Every stroke of my brush got me closer to climaxing, and yet I couldn't bring myself to do the deed. Not yet. I sat there taking it all in, stark naked in my birthday suit as I watched the paint dry. I wriggled my toes as I traced every stroke of my brush, a trail of paint in my wake of brilliance. I licked my chapped lips, beads of sweat rolling down my brow as the paint began to settle. So close...almost there...

Then I saw it. A split in the paint. A treacherous ravine making its way down my masterfully crafted strokes. I instantly went limp at the sight. Damn. I clenched my ass and got up, my brush gripped tightly in my right hand. Looks like I'll have to start again. Oh well. The longer the wait, the better the relief. I smiled and began again.


:s_wink:

this is beautiful

I stood there in silence while staring at a wall, thinking why am I doing something like this when I could be doing something else.

I just got off from work or was as the boss had fired me after making a mistake and even been find for his own failure. He acted arrogant like a king, thinking what he did was something he always do and how many people's lives he had put down like the wall's wet surface as how many paint it took to cover it all up.

This also reminded me how my wife who always seems happy to be with me, suddenly took off with another man, finding out he was rich and left me and our child alone in this cruel world. The wall represents how we cover ourselves by putting a coating on our insides as maybe this wall was once covered with beautiful paintings of life, made by street artist who wants to express themselves and grow mentally as do their art, only to be covered up by the thick coat of paint that is life as they cover the hidden darkness of the world itself.

Why am I like this? why am I staring at this? I still have my daughter to take care off while looking for another job. Yet, I can't seem to move and stare at the emptiness of this wall as it stare right back at me.

"You seem lost sir."

I turned to see a young man who was just younger than me, staring at the same wall I did. His dark eyes which shows that it was pitch black as it bore through the abyss of the darkness of human nature.

"Life seems unfair right?" He says as he continues to stare at the wall and smile at me while he closes his eyes.

"Yet we still persue something stupid and unknowning. Thats how humans work."

He didn't gaze at me nor just do anything and continue staring at the wet wall which was slowly drying up.

"Life seem endless to some however thats only for those whose end is near as a new life will soon be born to replace those who are gone. We can only live through a fleeting moment and await our fate but pass on our destiny to our future generations. Through life is a pain, there's also new discoveries to show happiness and even through our darkest moments, there will always be time for us to smile."

He then stares at me like an all-knowing being as I was shocked that I met someone who seems like an almighty god.

By the time I blink, I slowly realise that I open my eyes to see the same wall, however it was now completely dry and had now aged a bit.

I then remembered that I got into a new job which raised my rank to the same or higher status than my old boss as I had now completely divorce my wife who regretted her life and had remarried into a woman with a daughter as well.

It was all thanks to the mysterious person whom I met as my step-daughter was happily running towards me with another boy. As I approach them, I suddenly ran as I saw an incoming truck that was heading towards them and....

.......

My daughter was pushed away as the boy was run over by the truck, smugging the wall of our metting with red liquid. The boy at that moment was familiar to me as he smiled before meeting his fate with a truck.

To be continued.....

i thought it's going to be a wholesome story, until i saw the ending xD



I guess it could be a one-shot of someone that is extremely stressed at their day-to-day life, that they just wanted a pause somewhere, doing nothing... And then they start literally watching paint dry while thinking of their life and what to do about it~

Or something like that. Could also just be the person thinking of the paint in itself for the sake of distracting themselves from everyday life~

yeah, basically a pause button to just relax and stay cozy :D
 

K5Rakitan

Level 32 👪 💍 Pronouns: she/whore ♀
Joined
Apr 15, 2020
Messages
3,352
Points
158
Under this paint lies the spackle that we all had a part in applying to the walls. I can tell that's an imprint of Marc's penis: small but perfectly proportioned. Next to it is an imprint of Seto's butt cheeks.
 

Oink

Member
Joined
May 1, 2021
Messages
55
Points
18
I stood there in silence while staring at a wall, thinking why am I doing something like this when I could be doing something else.

I just got off from work or was as the boss had fired me after making a mistake and even been find for his own failure. He acted arrogant like a king, thinking what he did was something he always do and how many people's lives he had put down like the wall's wet surface as how many paint it took to cover it all up.

This also reminded me how my wife who always seems happy to be with me, suddenly took off with another man, finding out he was rich and left me and our child alone in this cruel world. The wall represents how we cover ourselves by putting a coating on our insides as maybe this wall was once covered with beautiful paintings of life, made by street artist who wants to express themselves and grow mentally as do their art, only to be covered up by the thick coat of paint that is life as they cover the hidden darkness of the world itself.

Why am I like this? why am I staring at this? I still have my daughter to take care off while looking for another job. Yet, I can't seem to move and stare at the emptiness of this wall as it stare right back at me.

"You seem lost sir."

I turned to see a young man who was just younger than me, staring at the same wall I did. His dark eyes which shows that it was pitch black as it bore through the abyss of the darkness of human nature.

"Life seems unfair right?" He says as he continues to stare at the wall and smile at me while he closes his eyes.

"Yet we still persue something stupid and unknowning. Thats how humans work."

He didn't gaze at me nor just do anything and continue staring at the wet wall which was slowly drying up.

"Life seem endless to some however thats only for those whose end is near as a new life will soon be born to replace those who are gone. We can only live through a fleeting moment and await our fate but pass on our destiny to our future generations. Through life is a pain, there's also new discoveries to show happiness and even through our darkest moments, there will always be time for us to smile."

He then stares at me like an all-knowing being as I was shocked that I met someone who seems like an almighty god.

By the time I blink, I slowly realise that I open my eyes to see the same wall, however it was now completely dry and had now aged a bit.

I then remembered that I got into a new job which raised my rank to the same or higher status than my old boss as I had now completely divorce my wife who regretted her life and had remarried into a woman with a daughter as well.

It was all thanks to the mysterious person whom I met as my step-daughter was happily running towards me with another boy. As I approach them, I suddenly ran as I saw an incoming truck that was heading towards them and....

.......

My daughter was pushed away as the boy was run over by the truck, smugging the wall of our metting with red liquid. The boy at that moment was familiar to me as he smiled before meeting his fate with a truck.

To be continued.....
Wow this was actually very good. Time Paradox.
 
D

Deleted member 45782

Guest
He watched the paint slowly dry out in the cool summer night. Taking a swig of his lemonade tea, he sat in his lawn chair, a few yards across from the fence, contemplating what his next big project would be.

Only the sound of crickets and frogs permeate throughout the air, save for the faint noises from the small festival in the distance. Other than that carnival festival that was held once a year, it was the just the old hilltop wilderness here.

And he liked it that way.

Smiling he took another gulp of his tea. No busy loud metropolis streets with their ever raging honks. No emergence of annoying suburb neighbors. Just quiet peace.

And it allowed him room to build his own things freely, construct from scratch to finish. All the wooden planks, the shed, the small house. So many projects to construct for just himself and no one else's.

Its perfect.

Hmm...the fence should be done drying by now.

He stands, folding the long sleeves of his shirt, caked in dried blood.

A shame its a bit hard to get some of that special wood up here. But it'll make do. With this new paint it looks just as good as any red cherry wood.

He walks to the river to clean himself up and call it a night, when he remembers the paint tray he left on the ground next to the fence.

Should I? He glances in the carnival direction for a few minutes, before taking up the tray. Even if he was a bit far away...it was still perhaps better safe than sorry.

Washing his hands on the banks, he glances at the tray again. There was still so much. Perhaps he could use it to paint another piece of his property.

Yes! His shed. What a good idea. He'll get it started tomorrow. Of course, he may need more paint, this won't do enough.

Finishing he went home to plan his next "project."

In the cattails a few feet from where he just was, laid a corpse covered in the tall grass.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Joined
Jan 15, 2019
Messages
1,103
Points
153
He watched the paint slowly dry out in the cool summer night. Taking a swig of his lemonade tea, he sat in his lawn chair, a few yards across from the fence, contemplating what his next big project would be.

Only the sound of crickets and frogs permeate throughout the air, save for the faint noises from the small festival in the distance. Other than that carnival festival that was held once a year, it was the just the old hilltop wilderness here.

And he liked it that way.

Smiling he took another gulp of his tea. No busy loud metropolis streets with their ever raging honks. No emergence of annoying suburb neighbors. Just quiet peace.

And it allowed him room to build his own things freely, construct from scratch to finish. All the wooden planks, the shed, the small house. So many projects to construct for just himself and no one else's.

Its perfect.

Hmm...the fence should be done drying by now.

He stands, folding the long sleeves of his shirt, caked in dried blood.

A shame its a bit hard to get some of that special wood up here. But it'll make do. With this new paint it looks just as good as any red cherry wood.

He walks to the river to clean himself up and call it a night, when he remembers the paint tray he left on the ground next to the fence.

Should I? He glances in the carnival direction for a few minutes, before taking up the tray. Even if he was a bit far away...it was still perhaps better safe than sorry.

Washing his hands on the banks, he glances at the tray again. There was still so much. Perhaps he could use it to paint another piece of his property.

Yes! His shed. What a good idea. He'll get it started tomorrow. Of course, he may need more paint, this won't do enough.

Finishing he went home to plan his next "project."

In the cattails a few feet from where he just was, laid a corpse covered in the tall grass.

basically blood for the blood god :D

pretty cozy, though i did expect a twist from the dried blood part.
 

bulmabriefs144

New member
Joined
Apr 30, 2021
Messages
22
Points
3
Your character watches a paint dry.

Feel free to describe them doing so.
Challenge set!

Ambrosia finishes making repairs to her house, nailing any loose boards in place. However, her pad could use a fresh coat of paint. Years of living in the same house have turned the nice white house into the color of ripe wheat. As much as she would like to leave it be, Ambrosia understands that that nice natural wood can quickly turn to rot without some sort of coating, and painting is more visible than stain. "Paint house side to side..." Ambrosia mutters to herself. The green paint spreads smoothly along the surface of one boards than another. Ambrosia doesn't believe in painting a house the same color it was last time. She moves slowly but deliberately, trying to avoid spattering the paint all over those holding the ladder beneath her while still being swift enough not to glop in one place, and drip in thin lines. Today is a good temperature, not so cold that the paint freezes or is moist, not so hot that it dries too quickly, and not rainy either. The paint goes from a semi-liquid mass to a solid coating, though it drips despite her best efforts. The paint also darkens more than she would have liked, since Ambrosia wanted a nice cheery Tart Apple (4208-4), and instead the paint darkens to closer to Moss Landing (410D-6). She supposes it is her fault. She didn't exactly go to a store and pick out the color, she mixed those colors herself by adding organic dyes to what was originally another shade of paint. She can't even get the color perfectly consistent, and she worries that perhaps this DIY paint might actually affect the wood itself, dyeing it or some other effect. And so she watches, wondering how it will turn out when it fully dries. She watches to see if it will in fact dry with all the plant juices she's added. And she watches to make sure it would drip too much. Afternoon comes and it becomes hot. The paint stops dripping and begins to bubble. If it sticks wrong, she will have to scrape this layer off and try again. But before that can happen, the paint finally dries. In that area. It is time for Ambrosia to paint another side. Tomorrow, she will try the other sides. Or maybe, she can get her husband and daughter to do some of this work. She only has to sell this as a family bonding experience, and she can lie down on the couch.

(As a bonus, I have included 10 hours of paint drying)

 
Joined
Jan 15, 2019
Messages
1,103
Points
153
Challenge set!

Ambrosia finishes making repairs to her house, nailing any loose boards in place. However, her pad could use a fresh coat of paint. Years of living in the same house have turned the nice white house into the color of ripe wheat. As much as she would like to leave it be, Ambrosia understands that that nice natural wood can quickly turn to rot without some sort of coating, and painting is more visible than stain. "Paint house side to side..." Ambrosia mutters to herself. The green paint spreads smoothly along the surface of one boards than another. Ambrosia doesn't believe in painting a house the same color it was last time. She moves slowly but deliberately, trying to avoid spattering the paint all over those holding the ladder beneath her while still being swift enough not to glop in one place, and drip in thin lines. Today is a good temperature, not so cold that the paint freezes or is moist, not so hot that it dries too quickly, and not rainy either. The paint goes from a semi-liquid mass to a solid coating, though it drips despite her best efforts. The paint also darkens more than she would have liked, since Ambrosia wanted a nice cheery Tart Apple (4208-4), and instead the paint darkens to closer to Moss Landing (410D-6). She supposes it is her fault. She didn't exactly go to a store and pick out the color, she mixed those colors herself by adding organic dyes to what was originally another shade of paint. She can't even get the color perfectly consistent, and she worries that perhaps this DIY paint might actually affect the wood itself, dyeing it or some other effect. And so she watches, wondering how it will turn out when it fully dries. She watches to see if it will in fact dry with all the plant juices she's added. And she watches to make sure it would drip too much. Afternoon comes and it becomes hot. The paint stops dripping and begins to bubble. If it sticks wrong, she will have to scrape this layer off and try again. But before that can happen, the paint finally dries. In that area. It is time for Ambrosia to paint another side. Tomorrow, she will try the other sides. Or maybe, she can get her husband and daughter to do some of this work. She only has to sell this as a family bonding experience, and she can lie down on the couch.

(As a bonus, I have included 10 hours of paint drying)


i hope she'll perfect the best homemade paint formula one day :D
 

Mysticant

Active member
Joined
Jun 17, 2021
Messages
251
Points
43
A blank canvas, that was my impression of her when we first met.
And then we got together.
Colors mashed together, creating vibrancy to that plain dull white canvas.
Her smiles warmed my heart and so did mine to hers.
Red and yellow for the vermillion sunset which we held hands under.
Yellow and blue for that lush green forest which we strolled together side by side.
However, everything passed quickly.
All wet paint shall dry.
All good times shall end.
She has already gone.
With the wind.
Leaving me behind with that very canvas.
The only thing remaining after the colors merged above each other was ugly dried black paint.
A feeling of regret.
Would it have been better if we had never met?
Would the canvas have been better unsullied and untainted white?
 
Top