Aya Kagamine
Home of the angry painter Aya
After falling face first into her bubble puddle, Ms Mecha Goku had kindly helped Aya onto her soaked knees. It felt… weird. The girl was clearly a robot designed to destroy villainous things and villainous people, yet she felt, well, human. Her touch was warm and freakishly fleshy, and it scared the living hell out of Aya. At the same time though, it was also quite fascinating. If this was what the nerds in her old high school classes were getting up to now, then Aya was falling further and further behind as a so called B-Class hero.
"You don't have to make the ramen. I'm really good at it, so I can go do it!"
And just like that, the teenage robot zoomed into the kitchen.
"Woah, wait up, I still need to–"
Another faulty step resulted in another slippery fall. Aya attempted to heave herself back up, although her painful back said otherwise.
Well, it didn't seem like the robot girl was going let anything stop her from making a bowl of ramen. Aya decided to let her do her business for now, especially seeing how pumped up she seemed about cooking. In the mean time, the woman might as well get on with her own thing while the mechanical heroine stirred up some lunch in the kitchen.
After changing into a simple black top, Aya entered her work place with quiet steps. Hand resting on her hip the woman stared down at the large, unfinished painting with a smile. From the computer in the corner of the vast room she grabbed her phone and let her music pour into her ears. It was only her and the singer's voice now, the headphones blocking her away from the real outside world.
Then, she began to spray.
Lying before me…
scene painted in green…
Red. Magenta. Purple. Bright flares of those sunset colours danced across the half empty canvas, painting an imaginary image only Aya could see. Like the rocking waves at a sea cliff's edge, the now flowing colours put the woman at peace, engulfing her tired body completely. A feeling of peace and tranquility washed over her, all until the chorus began to play.
Oh, raging wind…
go do your thing…
A shot of unexpected indigo and sandy brown.
Loneliness.
…and take me away out of this painted space…
Aya didn't really understand the lyrics, but that didn't matter. The song sounded good. Like, really good. All these mixed emotions the track would make her feel, make her paint… It was unbelievable, yet a little creepy. She was under a trance by this singer's voice, being hypnotised by the calming post-rock song.
About fifteen minutes later, Aya was almost finished. After doing all the background spraying and fiddling with some paint it seemed like the piece of art was coming together.
The silhouette of a woman reaching out to the blood coloured sky from the deep depths of dark blue was probably the first thing people would lay their eyes on. Overpowering purples would tower over the reddening sunset, signalling the day to come to an unwanted close. Still, the faceless woman painted in black stretched her arms out, willing to escape the dark and treacherous seas. Just those few streaks of red would be enough to break through her loneliness. A nice, warm red was all she needed. All she wanted.
Aya related to it a lot.
Sighing, the hungry heroine sat on her wooden floor cross legged, eyeing her nearly completed artwork. She wasn't in the mood to look back on her past, not at all. But the weight she felt in her chest made her want to smile and cry at the same time. Jeez, why did emotions have to be so complicated?
With a rather sullen look on her face, Aya stood up, taking her headphones off her ears.