* grief / kept .

        ❝ T’was supposed to be a boat, ❞ he murmured, running a thumb over the smooth wooden carving. Something as complex as a boat wasn’t really on par with his current skill level, but it wasn’t a terrible carving by any means. He assumed it’d be described as more amateur than anything. His fingers trace the sails before his shoulders come up in a shrug, partially defeated, but mostly apathetic. ❝ I didn’t really have the tools for fine detail work this time around. ❞

           small starter call ?? i wanna get back into writing my boy now that i have wifi. 

        ❝ I would compliment you, but I think most of my compliments read as really weird. Like, I was going to say that your skin looks soft enough to remove and use as a coat and -- yeah, that’s weird. See ?? Okay, hold on, let me think of a better compliment. Give me a moment. ❞

           Eyes narrow at the person beside him, agitation written on his face. The music that played from his speakers was far too loud, far too noisy ; after all, Abel had never been a fan of music. Too many things happening at once, it hurt his ears. He was much more drawn to monotone noises and radio static.  ❝ Please, could you stop the noise ?? I'm trying to get some rest from all the unborn chicken voices in my head. ❞

    ❝ Well, nothing ever went quite exactly as we planned, ❞ Abel elaborated, a small shrug of his shoulders. Thinking back on the cult, it was pretty disorganized. It was bound to be with Ress in charge and Abel as the right arm of wrath. Perhaps that was for the best ; had Ress gone on much longer, there may have been more damage to the world at large. While it wasn’t something he talked about often, he didn’t mind answering Lincoln’s questions. ❝ Our ideas held no water, but we used them like a dam. ❞

working on face studies. not abel, but just art.

     ❝ What you don’t know won’t hurt you, yeah ?? ❞ Abel suggests, shrugging his shoulders. Hands slip into his pocket, fumbling with the nickel he had slipped in a few hours earlier. He wasn’t much for wise advice. ❝ Ignorance is bliss. ❞

      ❝ I'm working on drawing a straight line. ❞ A soft tone, one he took up very few times in life. He wasn’t speaking literally ; he almost never did. To avoid speaking of his emotions, he’d oft speak in riddles. Scraping his knife against wood, he doesn’t glance away from the oak. The artist beside him was stuck with his riddles for now, as he had been in the past. ❝ And I'll draw until I get one right.  ❞

       ❝ In my dream I was almost there. ❞ Abel tapped his fingers idly against the table, gaze cast downwards. He was tired, running low on sleep. What he did get was plagued with nightmares that left him awake in a cold sweat by two in the morning. He doesn’t know why he shares these dreams with them, but he does. Perhaps it’s easier to talk than to reflect on them. ❝ Then they pulled me aside and said ‘ you're going nowhere ’. ❞

       ❝ I accept no criticisms. ❞  // @genprof​ . 

lyric starter call !! like this for a short / semi-short starter based on lyrics to something on my spotify. it’ll probably be lyrics as dialogue with a little bit of other stuff to make a setting. multi’s please specify.