Day 2: stitches. I actually already had this ongoing when the theme was announced in march. The original idea was to make Kanae into a sort of doll, so I wanted to make their skin look like it was half skin half cracked porcelain. The stitches hold the parts together, but also help posing them, connecting their arm to their torso, but also turning into a sort of lose spiderweb around them.
I didn’t post yesterday because I was kind of upset, but I think it works well in the end, because the art goes well with the little piece I wrote for day 3.
Day 3: music.
There was a rhythm to it, almost a sort of harmony. He could feel it on his skin, in his bones. It pulled, so very gently, so gently it drew blood. No, that wasn’t it; it wasn’t that sound giving him goosebumps, the velvet of theater chairs hugging his body. The hands. All their hands, pulling on his strings, second after second. Clocks’ hands. Her hands. He didn’t know anymore. She didn’t know anymore. Wasn’t that what Eto said? He (She) could be loved for who he (she) was? Who was he? Tick, tick, tick, like a bomb waiting to blow.
They all had their voices, the ticking of the soprano, the tocking of the contralto. Wasn’t it wonderful, the deafening aria they created, like they could crash his skull and suck his brain out? Could that be stitched back together too? All those thoughts that had haunted him, all that guilt… He could be loved. She could be loved, couldn’t she? He wanted to scream, but that sound… Could his voice carry over the orchestra? Would it? Was it? Who was screaming? Silence in the theater!
He started humming. Shu-sama had always loved the opera, its overwhelming crescendos, so he let the sound overwhelm him too. She could be loved. Just once.
