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Mountainside Planetarium - Clutch Only 
#1

Edvin Beck had lived for centuries upon centuries. He had witnessed the rise of technology, done his best to keep up with the ever advancing world of electronics. Still, from time to time, he found himself behind on new developments. It was not something he minded. In fact, he quite enjoyed discovering new gadgets. Like, for instance, a Bluetooth speaker. To which he found he was able to connect the application called 'Spotify', something he had come across some months prior. A wonderful application, truly, as it even stored music that pertained to his own interest. Specifically, the entire works of Chopin.

It felt somewhat strange, having only to press a few selections on his phone before the speaker lit up with some pointless light, and began to play forth the sounds of 3 Grandes valses brillantes, Op 24: No. 2 in A Minor. So used to having to manage a vinyl record, he was somewhat delighted and somewhat put off by how instant it was. Still, the music was clear and soothing, and acted as a fitting background noise to what he chose to occupy his time at the Planetarium this evening.

A paint by number kit. A suitable start to his latest venture into painting, he thought. The image was still warped and indiscernible for now, as he was just beginning to make way with the 2's, which were one section of 18. It was rather relaxing, he found. A tarp was set on the ground beneath a small easel, though he was precise enough in his strokes that there was little need to worry for a mess. As the brush scraped softly against the canvas, Edvin found himself humming along to the music from the speaker nearby.


@Greta
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#2


 For all her memory could be faulty and fail her more than she cared to admit, Greta, for one, felt she was rather on top of the technology game. As such, she was hardly surprised to find Edvin listening to fine music on a bluetooth speaker - she was closer to surprised to see he had one that lit up, and more so to see him painting. It wasn't exactly shocking, of course - surely such old vampires had a wealth of artistic ventures, whether it be painting or... making fortune tellers.

 Still.

 "I didn't realize you were an artiste," she hummed as she approached from the opposite end of the easel. E-reader in hand, she would come to stand just behind him to get a look at what he was painting - and a true smile curled her mouth as she saw the various numbered sections.
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#3
The approach was not easily missed. Greta in all of her striking visage coming into the room pulled his focus for a moment, a smile curling his lips as he chuckled. She moved to see the canvas, and he did not find any shame in allowing her to see. "Oh, I am an esteemed painter, can't you see?" He jested as he moved to stroke color into a small section of the painting, effectively covering the faint '2' printed in. "I'm working on my next masterpiece."
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#4
 Very funny, Mister Beck. She laughed quietly, a mirthful sound for all it was soft, and turned to lower herself into a lounge chair just a few feet away. "I'm sure it'll sell for thousands," she bantered as she settled, the device resting in her lap without being turned on for now. She kept her eyes on the man, amused by the simplicity of how different he appeared from the man who's nose she'd broken months ago. "What is it?" Unfortunately, she hadn't looked at it closely enough to gather that information for herself.
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#5
"Perhaps you will be the first to bid on it." He chuckled as she settled down. A careful glance to the small paint pots below him, to collect another small amount of paint. At the question, he looked over to the box he had set aside on a table before the seat she was settled into, gesturing toward it for her to take it and flip the downfacing lid over. She would see the finished painting on the front. "A cat, or I do hope it will be. I suppose we will see when I am finished."
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#6
 She smiled just so again for his words, but made no response - it was amusing, but not unappealing, to think of this little paint-by-number masterpiece hanging among her extravagant collection at home. He gestured towards the box, and she would pick it up, chuckling as she turned it over and admired the snoozing feline. She almost wished her animal form could be such a thing. She did love cats.

 "I have the utmost faith in you," she assured him, though playfulness remained in her tone, laying the box down. Her eyes wandered to the illuminated speaker, then, trying to place the familiar tune. "This song - who is that?" She'd ask after a moment of fruitless pondering.
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#7
A token of faith to cherish, truly. At the question, he paused to look toward the speaker, though his hand moved to dip the brush into a small cup of water he had set aside. "Chopin," He answered her, swirled the brush, then looked to the towel he had draped over his knee to rub the hairs against the fibers. "I've discovered a music app that miraculously has all of his works." He explained. "Do you have something you'd prefer?" He questioned as he moved to dip the brush into the pot labeled '3'.
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