+ ALL WE ARE IS DUST (COMPLETE)

Angelo’s hand used the pencil in a fluid manner as he formed the torso and head of the form. He perfected shadowing before getting close to creating the skeletal shape of the head. One thing Angelo was good at was ignoring the outside world. He was a professional at ignoring everyone and everything and though it was nothing to be proud of it certainly made sketching in a public space easier. The only thing breaking that factor was the mistakes he slowly made in the sketch that made his skin crawl. He was a famous renaissance artist and he wasn’t allowed to draw in proper proportions and scales. It pissed him off so badly sometimes.

Hell, he was the one who originated the world-wide depiction of god! If it weren’t for his “Creation of Adam” piece on the roof of the Sistine Chapel, God could have been some young white guy with a flop of blond hair and an arrogant face. But because He, Michelangelo, painted God for the first time in any painting as an old man with wisdom in his eyes, that became God in the memory and eyes of modern men and women. Even those who were unaware of Michelangelo’s “Creation of Adam” had his influence in their minds when they thought of a visual for god! And who didn’t know of his sculpture of David—though he had created better sculptures in his own opinion.

This grand master, this artist’s genius was forced to hide among the masses. How he hated being back and in such different world than his own. But at the same time, Angelo could understand that humanity wasn’t ready to accept reincarnation as a valid and fully functional part of religion. If anything Angelo had learned in his first life, it was that religion was concrete and overpowering in its beliefs. He had spent a whole lifetime on religious art. How could he not have found the church and the control of religion daunting? Though, he was a firm believer in god. He knew this was his second chance. He had lived a pure and constructive life and now God had given him a second chance. He only wished he was more thankful for it.

But back on topic…It was this ability to ignore the outside world that made Angelo completely unaware of Oliver approaching him from behind. He didn’t even hear the sound of the boy behind him. His sketch was well underway at that point and the detail, though flawed to Angelo’s eyes, still marked the sketch as very similar to the boy he had used as a model for David. Anyone who knew of David would at least see some familiarity in it.

When the words reached Angelo’s ears he jumped lightly, his charcoal was far from the paper so no smudging occurred. In that moment, Angelo wished he had intentionally made smudges in more areas to hide the perfection in his work. His eyes moved up and scanned over to Oliver. He didn’t really recognize the boy but then again, Angelo didn’t pay much mind to anyone in the school. He had made it into Senior year (which was only two years spent here), without really getting close to anyone or even remembering most people. He recalled those he considered a possible model with a decent physical appearance, or at least a beautiful face, but that was it. And this boy didn’t fit that description to Angelo…though one day—when he matured a bit more, then he might.

But back to what the boy had said…Angelo glanced down at it and found concern worming its way into his consciousness. Hopefully this boy knew nothing of art…since hoping he knew nothing of renaissance art but knew some art was a stretch Angelo was not willing to make. Everyone knew the four grand masters if they knew art. ”Thank you…”

At this point in time, Angelo had heard of RSOR, but who hadn’t? He had no interest or curiosity one what it could be. But he also had no idea that other people like him existed. People with a life that happened a long time ago and that now interrupted the second time around with thoughts, memories, dreams and capabilities they wouldn’t have if not for the first attempt at a life. Angelo thought he was unique and not always in a good way. He wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing that he was getting a second try. But he did know it was hard to do when no one knew who he was and he was in a world where art no longer held the sway it once did. In his world, he was an amazing man in society and he had talents worth paying for. Today’s world was nothing like that.

Of course, his lack of knowledge of RSOR also meant he didn’t know Oliver was in it or important to it or even how to get into it. He didn’t care either. He hadn’t picked up on any reason for this boy to even talk to him so perhaps that was why his guard had come up now. He wasn’t sure what he was safe to say and even why he wasn’t sure if it was safe. It was just a kid interested in what he was doing. But he still felt caution leak into him and he wasn’t about to fight himself and that sense of caution. Of course, it could simply be his nature—after all, Angelo was a loner and so was Michelangelo. Either way, Angelo trusted that feeling and knew he didn’t really want to say much of anything to this kid.

Part of his distrust was based on this life and its trials because of his strange skills. Angelo was cautious because of his early treatment. His parents were rich and living in North Carolina. Both of them were unimpressed by his talents because he wasn’t the son they had wanted. Throw in the people interested in his skills to a freakish degree and Angelo had found his life very uncomfortable. His father had wanted him to get into Business and Angelo knew that wasn’t going to happen. So He had told them he was going here—and here he was. Some would call him the snobby rich kid, but the snobby rich kid surrounded himself with people and also mooched the money he could. Angelo didn’t care for those things—what he did care for was the talents he had and how some had tried to use them when they knew and how his parents hadn’t cared at all but hadn’t loved him either. Angelo was isolated in this life, partly by his own doing and partly because of circumstance. It didn’t help his lack of trust.

Angelo didn’t make to hide the work as the boy had already seen it, but he knew he wasn’t about to share the rest of the contents in his sketch book. He had to be careful with them. After all, last time he had been considered a prodigy and then the step was made that the very people who had said that he was a prodigy then were completely freaked out at the similarity between his style and Michelangelo’s. They of course wrote it off as a phase once Angelo changed the style a bit at a time once he understood just what was going on.

Angelo shifted his weight a bit and put the piece of charcoal in the plastic bag sitting next to him. He then wiped his hands on his pants, leaving long streaks of charcoal on his pants, which he clearly didn’t care about, seeing as they also had smudges on them already and some traces of paint. Once done doing that he looked and noticed the boy still there and recalled the question he had just asked. ”It’s just wrong…the symmetry is too perfect, the musculature is too much and too unrealistic, I messed up the eye dimensions and proportion and the position is a bit too unnatural,”

Angelo was starting to really notice the eyes on his sketchbook. He was almost uncomfortable with how the boy’s eyes were on his sketch. It was…analyzing and somewhat intense. At least in his opinion it was and that was enough to set off a few alarm bells in the somewhat paranoid Angelo. He was cautious to a ridiculous extent with his secret. But at the same time he had so many holes in it. Most of the time he just assumed no one would ever believe him even if he told them so lately he had gotten a bit slack in his defenses. Now he felt that maybe he was being too slack. The boy was taking too much interest in the sketch! Too Much!

No! Wait…it could just be the skill behind it right? As much as that had reason to call attention to its similarities it was also normal for people to be intently interested in talents and skills they do not possess for themselves. Yes! This boy was far from being an artist and therefore he noted the skills Angelo had, respected them and was deeply interested by them. But the boy really needed to stop staring. Angelo casually closed the sketch book and tucked it into his bag, turning his attention a bit more thoroughly to the boy, even thought his company was unwelcome. The boy wasn’t going away and as much as Angelo didn’t mind being rude, it had been drilled into him that being rude was not appropriate. His parents had stressed it and Angelo abided by that when he was in a good mood, which luckily he was. Catch him in a rotten mood and you were asking for a much more violent verbal shove in the other direction.

Angelo had irritation written all over his face, despite his resolve to be at least relatively respectful and to avoid being rude. He didn’t know that Oliver was reading more into what he was saying that Angelo had intended by the words—but it really did have more substance to it that Angelo intended to hide. For the moment, it seemed that he was in the clear with hiding that, or at least to Angelo he had succeeded. The boy did the common response about how he did a pretty good job and about Angelo eventually getting it right. Angelo had to stop himself from smiling at how easily he had fooled the boy.

Angelo shrugged at the last part of Oliver’s comment. ”There is plenty of room for improvement…then again when isn’t there?”