#chartan

Catching up, albeit slowly.

Inktober days 10 and 11.

10: “Chartan.” Just an OC. He’s a painter!

11: “Nulyn.” Another OC. This one bled like crazy because a couple of my copics exploded in the middle of it but I kept pushing onward despite everything. Whoops, at least it’s not too messy!

Doodled myself a Chartan in like, 10 minutes or so because I really wanted to portray him properly, for who he is as a person: a tired, high functioning man who is also very depressed and anxious, who freelances in art and works at a grocery store for his day job.

I love him very much. I’ve had him since I was 11. Geez, how he’s grown with me.

Been a while since I’ve inked anything. I default to these two whenever I doodle... dunno why.

Going Forward with Chartan?

The fast fiction serial, The Adventures of Chartan, has reached a crossroads. I’ve been writing the story of a male ego in crisis for nearly two years. I dream up each weekly episode a day before I post it. There is no outline in mind, only an emphasis on keeping the weekly entry short. But “Chartan” has become the gorilla in the room. “Chartan” is now a fast fiction saga, a contradiction of…

That is a very good question.

I guess... Chartan and Elfie probably have to like soft textures the most.

Chartan has this blanket that’s really soft, he wraps himself up in it.

It was a muggy, summer-like night at the end of March. Chartan walked out of the apartment complex he lived alone in. Gazing up at the sky, he began strolling down the sidewalk. This was a normal activity for Chartan, wait until it got dark and go for a walk. He found the night more serene than the day, it being cooler, darker, and less busy. 

"I'd walk down these streets with him," Chartan said to himself, staring up at the stars, "Late at night. Reese and the others loved nights like this..." His voice trailed off. Chartan stopped and looked down at the ground.

"You lied... you all lied. Reese, Mason, Dell, Tilly, you all lied to me. You said you had my back. That, that we'd always stick together. I thought I could trust you two, Dell, Tilly, you two are family..." Chartan bit his lip. He felt tears welling up in his eyes. No. He wouldn't cry. His pride wouldn't let him. Chartan smiled, and looked straight ahead of him.

"Liars," Chartan sneered to himself before continuing down the sidewalk.

"Liars? Really Chartan?" Chartan turned around. It was Reese. He looked sinister in the moonlight, with the white glow of it shining on his back, casting shadows over his face and glasses. The breeze blew his clothes and hair, making him look even more dangerous than normal.

"Yes, Reese," replied Chartan, "Liars. You all are. You promised you'd stay family when we had nowhere else to go..." Chartan's gaze fell to the ground again.

Reese held his head. "I'm an established man, now, Chartan. I have a headquarters full of employees as well, I need to work, I have responsibilities. You don't have this to worry about, I know. Your brother and sister are missing, I know. I'm looking for them. Mason and Chansy are looking too. Please Chartan, relax."

Chartan remained silent, keeping his head down. His blue hair hung in his eyes, blocking out all eye contact. Reese sighed, then turned. "I'm heading home then, Chartan," he said before walking off.

"Wait."

Reese stopped. He looked back over his shoulder. "Yes, Chartan?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so stressed. So upset. You're my best friend and I miss you. Please don't go."

Chartan: More Questions than Answers

(Last week: Det. Moran continues to question Chartan.)

Moran shook his head. Chartan was in another zone. At this pace the interview would take days, not hours. He left the room, confident the mystic hadn’t noticed his departure.

He walked one door down, knocked and entered.

Brazil looked up from the table. Standing on the other side was Moran’s partner, Ruggio, who winked at Moran and offered:…