revised:

"I'm sorry, sir..." I called.
The man stood with his back to me on the far side of the gallery space, in front of a vast canvas of spiralling reds. Beside him, on the polished basalt floor, curled a large grey dog.
I paused, trapped momentarily by the image of their silhouettes against the painting, like time travellers in front of a vortex.
"...the gallery closes in five minutes--and no pets, please"
The man didn't respond, but the dog--what I'd thought was just dog--rose and stretched. Great bunches of muscles flexed and rolled across its shoulders, like a lion's.
"Mr Chasin..." The man chuckled without turning. "will not appreciate being called a pet, will you?"
"No," the beast muttered. Its voice deep and ominous. "But I am forgiving."

revised (3)

"I'm sorry, sir..." I called.
The man stood on the far side of the gallery space, in front of a vast canvas of spiralling reds. Beside him, on the polished basalt floor, hunched a large grey dog.
I paused; silhouetted against the painting, the pair seemed like travellers about to step through the vortex.
"...the gallery closes in five minutes--and no pets, please"
The man didn't respond, but the dog--what I'd thought was a dog--rose and stretched. A long feline tail uncurled; ropes of muscle flexed and bunched across lion-like shoulders.
"Mr Chasin..." The man chuckled without turning. "will not appreciate being called a pet, will you?"
"No," the beast muttered. Its voice deep and ominous. "But I am forgiving."

Last one:

I spotted the man on the far side of the gallery space, in front of a vast canvas of spiralling reds. A large, black dog crouched on the polished basalt floor beside him.
"I'm sorry, sir..." my voice echoed off the marble walls, but the man didn't turn. I paused; silhouetted against the painting, the man seemed like a traveller poised to step through the vortex. I raised my voice, "...the gallery closes in five minutes--and pets aren't allowed."
The man didn't respond, but the dog--what I'd thought was a dog--stirred. Its long feline tail uncurled. Heavy muscles flexed and bunched across lion-like shoulders as it first stretched, then rose.
"Mr Chasin..." The man spoke without turning. "...will not appreciate being called a pet, will you?"

The last lines are the same, but exceeded the 13 line limit.

My biggest complaint is that it feels like were about to get a flashback. Are you starting this in the right place?

quote:

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I slid down the wall and onto the floor of the studio.

---

This sounds like the MC was just shot. After reading the rest, I don’t believe this line is even needed.

quote:

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The dawn light--a square of gold---drifted with a funereal slowness across the dark oak boards towards the picture on the easel.

---

I am assuming the rising suns rays are piercing a window (what else could it be?). I stopped at funereal slowness. It is easy to understand what you mean but I feel this could be said better. Maybe something like…
drifted across the oak floor with the deliberate lethargy of a funeral
Eh, maybe not.

quote:

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The wooden support creaked as Violix's body settled against it.

---

Not sure what the wooden support is (could be relevant) or what a Violix is.

Intriguing opening, powerful imagery and subtle nuances. I’m confused, but willing to keep reading in hopes it becomes clear soon. I especially like the description of Viloix.

“I slid down the wall and onto the floor of the studio.” Was he just injured? Almost fainted? Sitting down after a shocking experience? It’s too ambiguous for my taste. The word “funereal” makes me think he’s dying, but then how is he able to turn away?

What wooden support? The easel? I’ve used a fair number of easels, and none of them were stable enough to support something as heavy as a body leaning against it without tipping over, unless it was balanced just so.

What just happened to make Violix collapse (so gently)?

I would rather see this at the top: “Time is a desperately inadequate way to describe the depth of a relationship. Intensity is better, and my time with Violix was nothing if not intense.” It seems somehow out of place now, perhaps because it is so thoughtful, like a quotable quote. But that may not be a fair assessment; does the story continue in this vein?

“threatening to reveal its hideousness” – I would expect things to be visible in a sunlit room. I am left wondering if direct sunlight has some special affect on this particular painting. Or maybe a modifier is needed: the full impact of its hideousness (bad example).

Is it a painting? You said picture twice, so is it a photograph?

I too stopped at 'funereal slowness'. Unless something is about to die, or this is the start of an extended metaphor, etc, I'm not sure you can get away with 'funereal'. It's such a specific word, so it sticks out oddly if you don't combine it with something.

Is the wooden support the easel?

The bit about the cloak confuses me. Are you saying he has lots of metal prosthetic limbs, which stick out sharply under the shadow of the cloak? Because for a while, I thought it meant there were metal arms and legs dangling from his cloak. Is it even limbs we're talking about, here? I've only got 'prosthetics' to go on.

I particularly like the lines 'like the limbs of a spent clockwork man—which, I suppose in a way, he was.' and 'The dawn light--a square of gold--'.

'The patch of gold light touched the picture's edge, threatening to reveal its hideousness; I turned away.' - all I can think of for this is that it means he hates what is presumably his painting.

I almost agreed with MrsBrown about having the 'Time is a desperately inadequate way' line at the start, but I think you risk sounding melodramatic if you put it there. I actually think it fits quite well where it is.

It's come up a few times so I will respond. The 'support' was simply me not wishing to use 'easel' twice in such a short space. It just echoed badly.

It's clearer, certainly, though it's lost some of its moody quality. I think it's definitely more readable, at any rate; I can picture this scene in my head. Petty bits:

'caught momentarily for by the image'

'Great bunches of muscles flexed and rolled across its shoulders, like a lion's' - it's very clunky. I'm not sure what to suggest, to be honest, without redoing the whole sentence from a different angle. 'muscles flexed and rolled across its lion-like shoulders', maybe?

re. the third sentence, I am a little underwhelmed by 'large grey dog' after 'vast canvas of spiralling reds'.

The problem is that version one is pretty much static image. I introduced fine detail movements (sliding down the wall; drifting light; settling) to make give the impression it wasn't static, but it is essentially only a picture in words. Much easier to be moody and atmospheric.

The other versions introduce people and objects in a more dynamic situation (dialogue). All these things use up words and 13-linage, hence atmosphere suffers.

The description is great and you do an excellent job of painting this picture. I know exactly what the scene looks like but the description is not overdone.

I also feel like I have a very quick sketch of the characters' personality in just a couple of dialog lines but I am still extremely curious what they're really about.

Nicely done.

Nits:

I completely missed that the MC said the second line of dialogue—I assumed it was some other unnamed person, until the third read. I might suggest the following re-ordering:

The man stood on the far side of the gallery space, in front of a vast canvas of spiralling reds. Beside him, on the polished basalt floor, hunched a large grey dog.
"I'm sorry, sir..." I called. I paused; silhouetted against the painting, the pair seemed like travellers about to step through the vortex. "...the gallery closes in five minutes--and no pets, please"
Eh, maybe not.

Need a period after “please” and “Mr”. Spiraling and travelers (spelling).

Were you looking for readers now? If so, send it through, I haven't looked at one of yours for a while.

Nick

I was definitely hooked.

A couple of nits:

I felt the last unwritten line spoken by Mr. Chasain struck me as not being quite as snappy as it could be. Perhaps it was too droll.

I was jarred by having the beast look like a dog and then all of the descriptors were feline. It made me pause and try to figure out what was going on.