Loiterer's Sandbox

CAISSA: Patrons and Portraits.


Notes from the Artist:
So, I suppose I better put up some background to go with the picture then. Okay, so I first met Caissa on my first? Second? Maybe second trip to the Library, yeah. And she wasn't the weirdest thing I'd seen there, not by a long shot! I mean, I've seen talking animals and stuff, people made from other elements and at least a few other gods. But she was a bit different. It was probably the hair what I first noticed, and then her eyes. Or at least what I could perceive where her eyes. You see, I only found out recently that gods and stuff can't be seen as they properly are? You know like, our brains interpret the info we're getting about them in a way we can process it? So what I saw was what you see here. Shiny black hair, pure white skin. Her eyes were cool though. One black on white, 'tother white on black. So what with all that I decided to do a drawing!

Then she saw me with my sketchbook…

"Excuse me?"

Dave slowly and sheepishly looked up from his sketchbook. "Um…"

The woman looked over across the table at him, black nails drumming impatiently. Dave's eyes darted back and forth, desperately searching for some sort of response, although they kept getting drawn back to the elegant brace around her right arm. The black and white chessboard pattern covering it while faint golden lines seperated the squares.

"That's a nice bracelet-thing…" He said, pointing. "I was just admiring it…"

"Is that all you were doing?"

"Yes." Then, "No…" He tried hopelessly to go back to focussing on the page, praying that the blank space might absorb him.

"Are you drawing me?" She said, smiling at the idea.

"Yes…" He was practically pressing his head against the paper, quietly urging it to do something to get him out of here. Too late, she was already moving around. "Crap…" He muttered.

"No, come on, I want to see this!" She said, sitting next to him. "Show me!"

Defeated, he placed the sketchbook on the table with a sigh that earned him a stern 'SSH!' from the nearby Archivist. There was the start of something. A figure, behind a table, with an open book. There were also small studies of various features of the woman, trying to capture the essence or at least a similar look to the subject matter. A nose here, an eyebrow and cheekbone there. There were a few trying to get the eyes looking right, but they weren't very good.

"You often draw goddesses?"

"You what?" Dave's pencil snapped with that realisation. He looked over, concerned for his current existence as a four-limbed, bipedal art-mage.

Caissa laughed, "Okay, I may have exaggerated slightly!" She put her hands up in admission. "I'm only a minor one…"

"A Minor one? Is that like an assistant manager or something?"

Caissa stared, 'Assistant Manager' didn't really register as a thing to her.

"No, more like a minor goddess. Of strategies!" She beamed. "And Chess…" she added quietly.

"And what?"

"And chess!" She conceded, punctuating the answer by dropping her head in her hands and her elbows on the table.

"How do you manage that then? Was there a school and that was your best qualification?"

"No. And the school came decades after I became me…"

"There's an actual school for gods?!"

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