STATUS:
EXTREMELY FUCKED UP STAIRCASE
IT'S NOT LIKE A NORMAL STAIRCASE
IT'S CURLY
>>> new team assemble! @howlighte , @galacticemperorsolaris , @cardhearted
“Yikes.”
Yikes is right. He wasn’t even prepared to fight ghosts with his own team, now he’s gotta battle the ghoul realm with this guy, that kid, and Jack. Davaa’s deadpan exclamation of dread and frustration did little to portray he was actually perturbed. He was at least 2% perturbed.
The following deep sigh did more to get across the exhaustion. He scratched the back of his head, then craning his neck to survey his immediate surroundings. More tacky architecture. Super!
Davaa cups his hands around his mouth as if about to shout. “YOOOOOO!” then he shouts. Just the three of them, and himself. “Huh. This sucks. Bet we're not even getting financial compensation, what if I develop a disease in 20 years?”
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" RAMSCHAKLE HOUSEWARDEN YUYU REPORTING FOR DUTY! About to make YOU the cutest boy in school !! " and from the size of her carryon bag she was serious. The gyaru dropped the tote onto the table, proceeding a dense thud and rattling. Full to burst of barrettes and scrunchies and beads and ribbons and miscellaneous other accessories. A curated glitter disaster! She takes pride in it though, having to completely rebuy all her stock of hair memorabilia. A mere fraction of what she had stored in her many drawers back home. And today, Jack, you will be graced by all that it pink and leopard printed. Yuyu's faux serious façade dropped near instantly, unable to hold in her giggles. " I've been waiting for this day to come Jackie boy~ " That came out strange and somehow ominous.
@howlighte
_____
He had been walking through the winter wonderland to head back to the university when he spotted them. Two people he wanted to avoid coming in his direction. Luckily for him they hadn't noticed him at first.
Quickly dipping to the nearby queue for the skating rink he tried to hide behind some people till they had walked past and were gone in the distance. Luckily Jacques was a tall lanky person so following his frame till it was out of his eyesight.
Letting out a breath he moved to step out of the queue he had just jumped into and leave when he slipped on some Ice. His body shot forward against his will with a loud yelp as he slammed into something tall and hard.
Air knocked from his lungs he whined pitifully as he grumbled trying to regather his footing. About to apologise he looked up to realise in dodging one Jacques he had ended up coming face to face with another Jack. "O-oh...hi..." frowning, the apology long forgotten.
The final answer isn’t as clear cut — in lieu, many factors merge to present the simplest answer: he does, in fact, draw anime fan art. Part stems subconsciously, producing senseless doodles that tend to appear in the margins of any physical paper he receives, rare as physical copies tend to get discarded post-scanning them from his phone and clicking ‘Save as a PDF’. Immediate isolation as a child surely didn’t help either, sheltered from the outside ( family business always comes first, irrespective to age ) within walls obscuring anything but screen after screen.
Work smarter, not harder. Said screens became a go-to if not primary source for early development, maturing unrefined scribbles into acute observational sketches, both fiction and reality preceding stylistic development. Of course, his dad wasn’t really a fan of any of it, chalking it up to youth’s wish, the cruel truth known by both him, his mother, and Idia. Ortho could, and would, be excluded from those conversations.
BUT! ——— Mindless scratches of lead and hissing at the snap of the tip ( another omen of never-ending bad-luck, probably! ) drift him from one world to another, much to his own pleasure. Even better, losing himself with the outside surroundings additionally muffled by trusty, signature headphones, blaring only the BEST — and often underground — music picks, old and new! Ritual that trails gracelessly into Night Raven, occasionally appearing as sketches that resemble the likenesses of other peers if not sourced from a horde of varying interests. RPGS, ‘80s anime and manga, campy movies, and that barely scratched the surface for all there was to inspire.
Observation was key after all, circling the core understandings ripped apart piece by piece to identify every single moving part. Dissectible information that led to deepened understanding along the same lines of understanding the human form through the sketching of his body only to be ( accidentally ) depicted a stalker when caught by other student(s). Definitely not one of his best ( or proudest ) moments —— it formed a decent enough topic line for a mid-term paper; Effects of passion in depictable media, so swallows it up regardless with unchanged admiration.
It made sense as a topic, anyway. Passion builds coveted material, both indie and popularized. Lack of it strips tales of old and new both would be half of what they were in the present, and the future’s would be any less enticing; a dime a dozen, in short. Hard effort melting into bursts of creativity to build from zero to hero, enticing any / all refined eyes in the image of pure, unbridled devotion to craft. The construct, the execution, the effort. It all rolls itself into a PERFECT COMBO: artistry, passion, understanding! If offered the choice, time / focus would be placed on that rather real life, flurries of Shroud-patented rambles accessible to any who could, and would, comfortably tune in. Gatekeeping is no fun anyway. AFTER ALL, anyone can replicate anything, but it takes something by someone, a someone who could be anyone, to create something unforgettable. In another life, Idia could only hope he’d be that anyone.
❝ i don’t want to be a grinch, but untangling lights isn’t exactly my favorite pastime. ❞
Ember sighed, nodding in agreement. Everytime he pulled apart one knot, it seemed like several more appeared after.
“I am going to be a Grinch and say this is the worst thing I’ve done for this fates-forsaken dorm,” He dropped the lights he’d been working on and grabbed a different set, “I would rather deal with the ever growing pile of dishes than deal with this mess.”
That was a lie. No one in their right mind would touch those and he hoped Jack understood he was lying and not about to ask him if he could do the dishes.
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