Information

Monochrome

The

Spectrum Lain
Owner:

Zane

Age: 3 years, 1 month, 2 weeks

Born: July 20th, 2007

Adopted: 3 months, 1 week, 1 day ago

Adopted: May 28th, 2010

Statistics

Level: 101
Strength: 49
Defense: 23
Speed: 27
Health: 19
HP: 17/19
Intelligence: 0
Books Read: 0

Poor ¦ Artist ¦ Visually Impaired ¦ 22

Name: Adam
Age: 22
Weight: 180 lbs.
Height: 5'11
Eye Color: Cloudy Blue
Hair Color: Light Brown
Skin Color: Pale White
Weapon of Choice: Charcoal
Pros: Artistic, Devoted, Soft spoken
Cons: Misunderstood, Visually Impaired, Obsessive
Lives: In a crappy, rat-ridden, chewed up apartment in L.A.
Roleplay: Human, with

Tempered only

Avatar Me!

A day in my shoes, huh?

Adam sat in the dark room, his fingers gingerly touching the edges of the film as it came out of it's chemical developing bath. Instinctively, he reached up and hung the negative images on a string for drying...and repeated the process for nearly eight hours.

Most people would hate a job like this, sitting in what was called a "red room" for hours on end, getting paid minimum wage to develop pictures of god-knows-what that were handed to him through a slot in the door of his workstation. Thousands of rolls of film passed through the young man's fingers in the past four years he had worked here...but that didn't make any difference to him.

Adam had been working at the development firm since his parents kicked him out of the house after the art school he had aspired to enroll in rejected him. The words replayed in his head daily...his art had no heart, his art had no meaning or emotion.

Adam scratched the back of his head and dipped another roll of film into the nauseating solution. Then there was the "accident", over a year ago. Adam was so much more frivolous then...he had been talking on his cell phone when he knocked over the chemical bath, splashing the caustic stuff in his eyes. While he was rushed to the hospital as soon as someone heard him screaming, it was too late. The artist had lost his eyes.

So what to do then? Adam did the only thing he could have done and gratefully returned to work fresh from the hospital. He knew his job by touch and smell, each chemical, every roll of film. In fact, he probably did the best job of developing old film in L.A...the dim red lights that usually illuminated these kinds of workplaces didn't have to be used, therefore completely preserving the integrity of the film. Adam's room that he spent his entire day in was black, cold, and perfect for him.

A knock behind him made Adam jump, nearly dropping the soaking wet strip of film. "What is it?"
"Hey, it's Tuesday." His boss spoke to Adam through the heavy oak door, hinting that it's time to get out.

Adam quickly hung his film up and flew out of the room into the dimly let red hallway. His eyes adjusted to the barely there light and revealed to him blobs...his normal sight when not at work. Blobs, colors and shapes were the entire arsenal of his vision.

Emerging from the developing area of the building, Adam wiped his wet hands on his jacket and tamed his thick hair just in time to hear the door jingle. It was probably her...

"Why, hello Adam! Working the register today again?" A familiar voice wafted to his ears like a warm delicious scent. Adam reached his hands out slowly, his arms held up hopefully. Soft skin came in to meet his fingers...this was how they always greeted each other. Koda had vision problems too...she was colorblind. They met one evening after Adam had his accident...upon developing her film for her. Her film was special, difficult to develop and used in an old, heavy camera. He was the only one she trusted to develop her specialized film, what a completely practical way to meet. But there was something special about this film that linked the two...her pictures were the only thing that Adam could see just as clear as before. He had never confronted the beautiful woman about the qualities of the unusual pictures she took, and however spent hours examining them. The city was portrayed for him, in print, block for block in her film. He always made double prints of her pictures, one for her and one for him. But while her film was remarkable and possibly a sign that he had lost his mind...it was Koda herself whom was the most amazing.

Adam pulled his hands reluctantly away from her face to grasp the film that she pressed into his hands. "Thank you Adam! See you this afternoon..." and with that, she was gone.

The man beside Adam chuckled. "On a date, kiddo?"
Adam nodded and hurried to his developing room to develop the prints before tonight. A movie...while Adam couldn't see it, hearing Koda laugh was worth every minute of sitting in another darkened room, staring at talking blobs.

That evening, Adam sat down, exhausted, in his living room. The sounds of his neighborhood...rats chewing on wires, couples arguing, police sirens and gunshot, assaulted his ears. Adam just smiled and pulled out a recent picture he had been working on, his fingers rubbing charcoal sticks in plastic packaging to get the pigment on his skin to transfer to the paper. No, it wasn't perfect, nor was it a traditional way of drawing. But he knew his subject by feel, by touch...and the only way to draw her was to replicate it on paper.

Adam, while he loved his mediocre life, had a dark secret that he hid. His walls, every one of them, were covered with taped up pictures. Black and white, and drawn by touch, the same face over and over again. If Koda ever came into his house and saw this...no. Adam shook his head, hanging up his latest masterpiece, and laughed. The blob staring back at him almost felt right... almost. Maybe next Tuesday he'd get a good feel of her shoulders....