Angelo was bored. Disturbingly so. He was a person who was used to always being on the move, his hands busy trying to bring life to canvas. He checked his fingers and marveled at the fact that they had absolutely no paint on them. For the last couple of days, they had been a distorted blue color, sometimes light, sometimes dark. The painting had drained him. He moved around the room until he reached the object of his thoughts. It was his latest work and was supposed to be a masterpiece but...it seemed as if something was missing. He frowned as he tried to figure it out but ended up being frustrated. Where was his muse when he needed it? The painting itself seemed beautiful. It was of a long winding road with a junction at some point. Trees, wild in their magnificence seemed to sway to the beat of some invisible music that only they could hear. There was an aura of magic, of life in it's most simplest of forms...pulsing, breathing. The sky itself was the most amazing part of the painting, it was a deep blue that seemed to lend an azure cast to the whole atmosphere. But something was missing. Angelo fell asleep with that on his mind. This was the only time he appeared at peace, his energy somewhat diminished. He had an interesting face, with arresting brown eyes and a beautiful mouth. His hair was brown and short so that it wouldn't get in his way. He hated distractions. Angelo jerked awake when he heard a sound coming from the vicinity of his painting. He scrambled up, heavy with sleep and moved towards the canvas. What he saw made him frown. There was a woman in the painting. She wasn't there before. Her back was to him so he couldn't see her face. When he tried to touch her, something else happened that sent him inwardly reeling with shock. Her skin seemed to ripple...to move. But the closer he looked, the more he realized that it was actually him who was moving...INTO the painting. He removed his hand away quickly. That must have been some strong weed he had taken earlier. He went back to the couch, tried to fall asleep but he couldn't get what had just happened out of his mind. At some point he found himself back near the painting. It seemed to be calling to him. And although this time he was a bit prepared, he was still shocked when his fingers went right through the canvas...and then his whole hand... The painting was bigger than him so he momentarily considered the idea of just walking right in. But that would be crazy, wouldn't it? The more he thought about it, the more appealing it became. Abruptly he decided that he was going in. And he did. Into the Blue.