[ why would they? there's no indication at all that she's anything particular out of the ordinary, with five different entities residing in her mind even before arrival, but it doesn't bother her any. some things... are better to keep in your sleeve, or at least unflaunted, so the few people she's spoken with about it are people she trusts.
... not in the "they won't spread it around" sort of way, but in the "won't ask further" way. there's a lot of secrets woven into the fabric of a simple, unusual fact, and the threads aren't clean. ]
But no, I haven't really used them outside of once or twice... I remembered I used them to defend myself against another person in that absent week, [ in the facility, the dream too real to be anything but reality, ] but frankly speaking, I'm not particular sure what consequences long-term use could have on me outside of The Library. And the soul I've got now is pretty handy anyway!
for someone as thorough as malkuth, he can only presume that it's entirely on purpose. he can read between those lines, at least, and so he doesn't necessarily wade too deep in those proverbial waters, instead opting to stick to what she has offered, and in it...
she brings up that "absent week."
he stiffens momentarily before eventually sending a message back. ]
it sounds like youre better off not using them
[ if that's what it takes for her to use them, that is. ]
anything else you wanna tell us while youre at it i mean its not like we were all waiting for you to tell us or anything
[ he uses "us" because it feels less personal somehow.
yeah, the right amount of distance. even it sounds closer to a joke. ]
[ there's pros and cons. it's nice to understand, to be understood, but the reasons that those understandings exist... are sad and persistent, not so far in her past as the time outside would speak on. though at least she can hold her abnormalities tight and tell them that things get better, that she won't abandon them.
"us" though, huh. malkuth chews on her lip, staring at the final two words, before replying. ]
... that does make her feel a way. bad, mostly. guilty. the acrid lie on her tongue. she can probably, probably handle whatever comes of it -- but it's not a guarantee, and after another moment her response comes. many dots, many backspaces, finally settling. ]
It's just nothing you or anyone else should worry about, Rafayel. Especially since I won't be using them as frequently as I did then.
[ ... ]
But I really do appreciate your (plural) concern, so have a little hint about one of them! If you know the tale, then just know this one ends a little happier. But if you don't... then that's fine, too. I'm a great storyteller, after all!
lets keep it that way besides it sounds like your other friends mightve had it hard too so maybe its good the get to rest as long as miss librarian gets to rest
[ he doesn't actually know it works that way...
but, he can only imagine the chaos of having multiple souls or entities occupying your own mind and body. he already thinks of this soul as .... well, that was neither here nor there. in the end, he presumes everyone had their own threshold of comfort when it came to their own idenities. ]
soooo whats the story youre not gonna just start off like that and leave me on read right
[ oh boy. okay. she will leave him on read for a minute, but then the typing starts...
... and continues...
and keeps going...
well. he asked for the story, so. he shouldn't be surprised by the blocks of texts. ]
She's called The Scorched Girl. Her story...
... Begins in the cold, snowy parts of The City. There's hardly any food to go around in The Backstreets there, to the point that children would die choking on pieces of trash they were desperate enough to try and fill their empty stomachs with. Her only belongings were the rotting clothes on her back and the matchbox given to her to sell where she could, though no one was interested in something they couldn't eat.
So she would sit in the snow and light the matches, one by one, and in the fragile warmth see all kinds of wondrous things! Lavish tables filled with food, a fireplace burning bright, loved ones encircling her no matter where she looked... but each time the visions faded and, desperate, she struck another, and another, and another, until at last she burned all but one.
The girl sought to see the illusions again, to have the warmth, the affection, so much so that she set her old house ablaze with that final matchstick, running into the flames to meet the visions she longed for. She died, surrounded by her own delusions, terrified of being left behind by them once again.
[ ...
another set of typing. ]
Our researchers believed her to have manifested from a story called The Matchstick Girl, a tale that was well-loved for its lessons against chasing fantasies, but we've never had any concrete proof. The girl dies in that one too, but due to freezing.
but your story i think a lot of people fall into that
where soon their delusions and thoughts of what could be are so much better than what they see in their reality... in the same way we get caught up in nightmares that shouldnt be true sometimes too [ except for him, maybe.
[ annoying... annoying that it makes her smile too.
...
does she? of course. it's true that many people fall into that, but she thinks of the words recorded by employees, spoken in battle, and her smile fades out of his sight. malkuth struggles to reply, responses running through her head as she rubs the side of her syntrofos, before she types out her response and lays her head down. ]
[ after a moment, his own speech bubbles flickers on and off, before...
he's already giving her a call. as they say, the slow shrimp gets devoured by the big fish. sometimes it's best to take the initiative yourself, right? as soon as she answers, he'll already start yapping, sorry. ]
[ it makes her jump, knee slamming painfully against her desk, and she tries to quiet the throbbing pain as she answers the call-- thanking god he just starts talking instead of waiting for her, it gives her time to make it sound like she hadn't just hurt herself because he played along. ]
That's fine, [ no she still sounds a little pained fuck, ] I can pay. Just name the fee.
[ ...
switching it to speaker so she can rest her head in her arms, facing her screen so her words won't muffle. now that she has his voice again, this-- was a mistake? no. it's fine. she's already feeling less lonely, even if the last time she heard him speak in her room was... ]
To answer your question, we can only use what we can empathize with. But it's hard not to connect to a story like that, right?
[ he swears he hears a sound in the background mid-speaking, but he tries not to show he did. instead, he kind of just falls silent while he waits for her to eventually find her composure, and... yeah, that sounds like it hurt.
but, since malkuth herself seems so against bringing attention to it... well, he'll pocket it for now. ] ... You sure you can? I mean, it'll tough even for you to afford. [ but, that doesn't stop him from being annoying, no.
thankfully, not for long when she actually answers.
he also seems to ponder on it, if just because he always pictured malkuth as being fairly empathetic in general. a flicker of light in a deep, dark tunnel the kind who couldn't readily turn her back on others, even knowing all they were capable of.
or he could be wrong. maybe that's why he finds himself curious. ]
... It's not, but I think there are levels to connection, right?
[ just a quiet agreement at first, closing her eyes unseen as she rubs her knee. ]
Plenty of us saw illusions dancing in the flame, but not all of us would keep striking the match hoping it would come true. [ again, again, again. ] And not all of us are as vengeful as her either.
[ but
that, she knows, doesn't sound like the malkuth he's barely scratched the surface of. but it's still true. what else would you call it when she cheerfully asked the manager to bear the burden of their pain the way they had for so long? thanking him for the horrid pain she'd felt once remembered, calling that helplessness a worthwhile experience she'd never have if she hadn't met (quietly, obviously, fallen for) him?
it isn't a part she likes to acknowledge, but... maybe it's because she avoid speaking on the consequences of her EGO use before. or something else. a lot of them are vengeful, really. in different ways. ]
I know it all sounds reaaaally weird and unbelievable, but it is what it is! The first hurdle for most people is accepting these entities as something other than "monsters", but I guess that's where my experience in their research comes in handy.
[ vengeance. blind obsession. wanting something that will forever be like a ghost at the tips of your fingers, almost within reach but not quite. those concepts aren't exactly... that far removed from his own realm of understanding. everyone had something they were plagued by, and their desires could manifest in a number of ways. some with so much vigor and passion in fact, that much like a flame... it could very well have left everyone burned to cinders, including the fire starter themselves.
does this mean malkuth herself at some point in time could have wanted something that badly? or is this far more current, and perhaps she's still burning for something that rafayel just can't see. ... and maybe it's better off that way.
which is why he does fall into thought on the other line. letting the silence overtake the line before he eventually speaks. ] I don't think it sounds that crazy, actually. I can't say if they're monsters or not, but I think those feelings... those emotions, they could happen to anyone.
We all take the events in our lives differently. Honestly, I've heard similar stories.
[ his own, included. ]
If you really do feel for it, I think that just means, you have a lot of emotional intelligence. ... Or, you just have a lot of emotions to share in general. [ last part is a bit more lighthearted. ]
[ the silence leaves her in thought. or rather, it leaves her with her thoughts -- that even if he'd asked, she shouldn't have spoken so much. that even if he thought he wanted to know, maybe he realized he hadn't too late. could he understand? grasp what she was saying? did she want him to? it's an awful, awful thing, wanting so badly and becoming so blind to everything else that you just
spiral, maybe, tunnel towards something thinking if you push hard enough that you'll break through, that if you work hard enough you'll be rewarded, that if you thrust yourself into the way enough they'll have to see you, that...
his eventual response drags her head back up, staring at the syntrofos before she rests her cheek against her arm again, ears flicking. it's reassuring, to know she's not alone. but it's also very, very sad. she wonders if he regrets asking. or calling. or sending some fairies her way, even if she doesn't get why he did.
she thinks of his unanswered question. is being of a similar mind to her good or bad? she's emotional to an extent, in that her heart does lead a lot of her decisions, but isn't like she can't see where to cut losses... that was her specialty in l. corp. knowing acceptable losses and prioritizing the end result, whatever the cost of means. ]
Do you think you could resonate with it? If you had access to it the way I do. Artists are supposed to have pretty good emotional depth to them after all, or so I've heard.
[ her question back surprises him, and yet his answer comes pretty easily. ] There's no way of knowing, right? But, I think if the pre-requisite is just understanding, I'd say my chances aren't too bad.
[ after all, he did always have the drive and thirst to know more. to understand. his curiosity of the surface world and humans was no different. the only thing is, reality is often... so different than the fantasies people create.
placing that aside though... he's still, admittedly, not sure he completely comprehends how it ends up manifesting into abilities or what the scope of that power is, but rafayel feels like he doesn't necessarily have to understand all that to get a peek into her world. ]
But, I should correct you on one thing, not all artists are the same, yeah? Did you want to know about some strange, unknown artist you've never heard of before, or me?
[ but it comes with a bubble of a laughter, like it's ridiculous she'd want to know anyone else. she already knows another artist very well anyway. netzach is extremely empathetic... but his own hang-ups are different, just enough that there's no way he could tap into the Abnormalities she can.
where she needs control, he's content to let it go. but she admires that about him too. ]
Art's just a very emotional seeming thing, so I thought it'd be an acceptable generalization. How you choose to convey things and what you choose to convey, how they get interpreted by your audience in return... You know.
[ even if he may have said it in jest, the conviction behind her response startles him. it's weird. the idea of having someone try to understand you. even if he may have been doing the same, he was accustomed to be the one chasing after someone's shadow; of trying to bridge some invisible gap that was only ever seen by him. ]
It is. But, you already know... I'm not really the kind of person to become too focused on how others interpret my work. I think there are things where we should leave to our guts, yeah? If I think too much about how others perceive my work, I could miss out on creating something I really want, you know. I told you before, but it's important for each person to focus on their own brushstrokes. Find their own colors, and really pursue what they really want. [ he knows she hasn't forgotten, but he repeats it anyway. ]
So when you look at my work, I hope that's how you'll understand too.
[ she knows, yet at the same time it makes his words far more clarifying to her than he thinks. it's similar-- or exactly the same as their former, their current, their steadfast desire for people to be able to write their own stories, the one they have within their hearts; the one that The City eagerly throws a curtain over to hide, or uses for its own gain without thought to the person it belongs to.
there's a brief pause, then the sound of her standing and voice a bit further away. ]
I like that you draw whatever you want. [ simple. ] But it's natural to wonder what someone else might think or gather from the things you put out too, even if you don't let yourself get caught up in it. Elijah ended up thinking too much about what others considered though and suffered for it, but it's a hard habit to break. At least in this life... I'm not looking for any particular interpretation, or hoping someone will see what I do. It is nice when we share the same thought though.
[ a shuffling noise, then something laid down on the desk, her voice closer again, nearly covering the soft sound of a page turning. ]
That's partly what our critique session was about, right? [ it's not a question in the sense that she knows, but a somewhat sincere inquiry. her interpretation of it, as it were. ] But even if it wasn't, it was one of the most fun things I'd ever done... I really looked forward to what you'd have to say, even if I'd choose a different subject now.
[ not takasugi and his playing, though it still makes an impression on her even today. the way he plucks notes from the air. how his fingers so easily follow a chord the way a bird does the wind. it's like second nature; it's something she's enamored with, but at the same time... nothing she's stepping towards the way she is now, the gentle sound of a pencil on rougher paper. it isn't just because she already like to sketch either. maybe she's always, since the day they first met, when
oh she knows what to get him for fruit now? sorry her pencil is pausing before furiously writing something on the side. where on earth is she getting it though. that's a problem for future malkuth. ]
Don't bother asking what, though. I won't tell you.
[ it is nice. to been seen. to be heard. to be remembered. but, rafayel isn't sure if he can hold his breath for the latter a second time. though, the idea someone can understand this sensation does make him feel something— something attuned to a spark. a trickle of water in the driest seasons, and he's sure this sensation is all the more amplified in the days of the casual indifference he held himself together in. ]
Exactly. [ he nods along on the line. though, it isn't obvious to himself, he says these words like it's praise. ] If I knew you'd have that much fun, I would have had you crit my other sketches too. [ a joke, if just because they were mostly of the aquatic life he did see here. one, even of the creature he had first encountered on the bridge. or even flowers and plants unique to the karterian landscape. ]
I think it's valuable because you chose that subject, you know. [ not just because it's takasugi, either. the subject themselves was inconsequential, it's more... ] I think art sometimes encapsulates time. Those feelings you had are preserved in each of your pencil strokes. We know it's pointless because everything falls under the laws of time, but we always keep trying... That kind of thing? [ he says it as if it's a question more than his conviction over the years.
but, he falls quiet, enjoying the sound of her scribbling on paper. ]
You're stingy as always. Makes me wonder where you learned it from.
[ not the teacher, obviously. or that's his implication, anyway. ]
[ she's glad he can't see the way her smile grows, head ducking to hide her warm cheeks despite that obvious fact, because what he says resounds heartily with her own beliefs: that though time leaves much behind, it doesn't make what was felt then any less. history is only remembered by the people who lived it; it is written only by those who remained standing; memories are fickle things, but creation affords it the chance to be longer lasting.
what is done today has an effect on tomorrow. from something as small as preparation to make the day following easier, to as grand as a building that might afford its inhabitants the chance to dream of a future brighter than yesterday's. his understanding, his musing... must come from somewhere deeper, beyond just an artist's perspective, and malkuth hatches shadows in the loose outline she's begun to sketch, amusement in her tone. ]
I'm friends with a group that think showing your hand is boring, Rafayel. Rinne's a gambler... Takasugi considers it more interesting for someone to guess... Niki tends to go along with the other two. [ maybe he doesn't count. ] So if you guess what I'm drawing, then I'll show you when I'm done.
[ just a little game, a reason to stay on, even if she'd claimed her fingers her from texting prior. it'd been a lie in the first place -- but what excuse could she use if he asked? nothing comes to mind. ]
But, [ with a kind of tease, ] I'm not too stingy to keep you from asking questions to narrow it down, if you'd like to try. We've been friends for a little while now, haven't we? I think you'll get it. It's not like I'm hard to read... you just need to know what to ask.
[ he can't see it, no. but, what he can do is fill his imagination with what sort of drawing she was beginning to map out in the background. the only hints he's given as of now is how much or little pressure he hears of the pencil on paper, and the intervals between each line she draws.
much less, he decides it'd be best to focus as little as possible on what sort of face she could be making. you know, for his own inner (peace). ] Rinne did mention being a gambler, and about luck... But, there's nothing "luck" related about making an educated guess, Miss Up-and-Coming Artist.
[ that said, he does just fall into the lull of listening to her for a second.
he also seems busy on his own line, probably lining up some seashells, before he eventually breaks the silence with: ] Is it a person? [ she seemed to like to translate her emotions into her work. specifically of the bonds she makes. if takasugi was the first person to impact her work as it had, then wouldn't it make sense it could be another? ]
[ a simple, affirmative answer, propping her cheek up in her hand as she continues to sketch. it's hard to ignore how much she's grinning when she can feel it against her palm, but hopefully it doesn't come out too much in her voice. ]
I'm still not great at it... but I kinda like drawing people. They're made of some pretty basic shapes, just like a building.
[ the length of a face, paneling of cheeks and roundness of a door's mark curved on any floor plan. there's a pause before she jumbles around in her desk for an eraser, rubbing at the paper and brushing the scraps away. the familiar noise returns after, lighter as she feathers the outline of a nose. ]
I haven't tried animals yet, but I think they'd be pretty easy. You just have to draw them the way clouds do.
[ it's also hard for him not to try and picture her expression. he's sure she thinks she's being subtle, and that idea does also make him smile just a little. though, it does taper off to something a little more serious as she speaks on her own artistry.
drawing people... it's a subject he tended to avoid, personally. prior to this, there had probably only been a handful of people he's drawn, even just for practice. there are probably a hundred attempts he's once made at a face he knows has forgotten him, but also... it's funny to think he's also drawn malkuth's outline before too.
two more facts he opts to ignore. ] Yeah, and just like a building its how those shapes come together that creates the final product, right? But, I'd like to think there may be more subtlety to expression. What kind of face does your subject have on? Do they seem somber like they just had a really bad day... Or, are they grinning away on the phone, for example?
[ teasing aside. ] The clouds do leave a lot of imagination though.
Is that how you see animals? [ as almost fantasy-like, perhaps? or maybe out of their grasp? ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ why would they? there's no indication at all that she's anything particular out of the ordinary, with five different entities residing in her mind even before arrival, but it doesn't bother her any. some things... are better to keep in your sleeve, or at least unflaunted, so the few people she's spoken with about it are people she trusts.
... not in the "they won't spread it around" sort of way, but in the "won't ask further" way. there's a lot of secrets woven into the fabric of a simple, unusual fact, and the threads aren't clean. ]
But no, I haven't really used them outside of once or twice... I remembered I used them to defend myself against another person in that absent week, [ in the facility, the dream too real to be anything but reality, ] but frankly speaking, I'm not particular sure what consequences long-term use could have on me outside of The Library. And the soul I've got now is pretty handy anyway!
[ ...
at least two of them were answered. ]
no subject
for someone as thorough as malkuth, he can only presume that it's entirely on purpose. he can read between those lines, at least, and so he doesn't necessarily wade too deep in those proverbial waters, instead opting to stick to what she has offered, and in it...
she brings up that "absent week."
he stiffens momentarily before eventually sending a message back. ]
it sounds like youre better off not using them
[ if that's what it takes for her to use them, that is. ]
anything else you wanna tell us while youre at it
i mean its not like we were all waiting for you to tell us or anything
[ he uses "us" because it feels less personal somehow.
yeah, the right amount of distance. even it sounds closer to a joke. ]
liiike consequences
no subject
"us" though, huh. malkuth chews on her lip, staring at the final two words, before replying. ]
Nothing I can't handle!
no subject
i get it
i know its easy to think youre a big girl all the time
but you should always remember too
its okay not be strong all the time yeah
[ even if this also feels like his cue to leave this convo... maybe. ]
no subject
... that does make her feel a way. bad, mostly. guilty. the acrid lie on her tongue. she can probably, probably handle whatever comes of it -- but it's not a guarantee, and after another moment her response comes. many dots, many backspaces, finally settling. ]
It's just nothing you or anyone else should worry about, Rafayel.
Especially since I won't be using them as frequently as I did then.
[ ... ]
But I really do appreciate your (plural) concern, so have a little hint about one of them!
If you know the tale, then just know this one ends a little happier. But if you don't... then that's fine, too. I'm a great storyteller, after all!
no subject
besides it sounds like your other friends mightve had it hard too
so maybe its good the get to rest as long as miss librarian gets to rest
[ he doesn't actually know it works that way...
but, he can only imagine the chaos of having multiple souls or entities occupying your own mind and body. he already thinks of this soul as .... well, that was neither here nor there. in the end, he presumes everyone had their own threshold of comfort when it came to their own idenities. ]
soooo whats the story
youre not gonna just start off like that and leave me on read right
no subject
... and continues...
and keeps going...
well. he asked for the story, so. he shouldn't be surprised by the blocks of texts. ]
She's called The Scorched Girl. Her story...
... Begins in the cold, snowy parts of The City. There's hardly any food to go around in The Backstreets there, to the point that children would die choking on pieces of trash they were desperate enough to try and fill their empty stomachs with. Her only belongings were the rotting clothes on her back and the matchbox given to her to sell where she could, though no one was interested in something they couldn't eat.
So she would sit in the snow and light the matches, one by one, and in the fragile warmth see all kinds of wondrous things! Lavish tables filled with food, a fireplace burning bright, loved ones encircling her no matter where she looked... but each time the visions faded and, desperate, she struck another, and another, and another, until at last she burned all but one.
The girl sought to see the illusions again, to have the warmth, the affection, so much so that she set her old house ablaze with that final matchstick, running into the flames to meet the visions she longed for. She died, surrounded by her own delusions, terrified of being left behind by them once again.
[ ...
another set of typing. ]
Our researchers believed her to have manifested from a story called The Matchstick Girl, a tale that was well-loved for its lessons against chasing fantasies, but we've never had any concrete proof. The girl dies in that one too, but due to freezing.
1/2
question question
are your fingers okay after all that typing youre doinng
[ now that he got that out the way, give him a minute to just send another text. ]
no subject
i think a lot of people fall into that
where soon their delusions and thoughts of what could be are so much better than what they see in their reality... in the same way we get caught up in nightmares that shouldnt be true sometimes too [ except for him, maybe.
but, he brushes that off. ]
do you connect to her
no subject
...
does she? of course. it's true that many people fall into that, but she thinks of the words recorded by employees, spoken in battle, and her smile fades out of his sight. malkuth struggles to reply, responses running through her head as she rubs the side of her syntrofos, before she types out her response and lays her head down. ]
My fingers do hurt.
So can we continue on call?
no subject
he's already giving her a call. as they say, the slow shrimp gets devoured by the big fish. sometimes it's best to take the initiative yourself, right? as soon as she answers, he'll already start yapping, sorry. ]
A call is going to cost you more, you know.
no subject
That's fine, [ no she still sounds a little pained fuck, ] I can pay. Just name the fee.
[ ...
switching it to speaker so she can rest her head in her arms, facing her screen so her words won't muffle. now that she has his voice again, this-- was a mistake? no. it's fine. she's already feeling less lonely, even if the last time she heard him speak in her room was... ]
To answer your question, we can only use what we can empathize with. But it's hard not to connect to a story like that, right?
no subject
but, since malkuth herself seems so against bringing attention to it... well, he'll pocket it for now. ] ... You sure you can? I mean, it'll tough even for you to afford. [ but, that doesn't stop him from being annoying, no.
thankfully, not for long when she actually answers.
he also seems to ponder on it, if just because he always pictured malkuth as being fairly empathetic in general. a flicker of light in a deep, dark tunnel the kind who couldn't readily turn her back on others, even knowing all they were capable of.
or he could be wrong. maybe that's why he finds himself curious. ]
... It's not, but I think there are levels to connection, right?
no subject
[ just a quiet agreement at first, closing her eyes unseen as she rubs her knee. ]
Plenty of us saw illusions dancing in the flame, but not all of us would keep striking the match hoping it would come true. [ again, again, again. ] And not all of us are as vengeful as her either.
[ but
that, she knows, doesn't sound like the malkuth he's barely scratched the surface of. but it's still true. what else would you call it when she cheerfully asked the manager to bear the burden of their pain the way they had for so long? thanking him for the horrid pain she'd felt once remembered, calling that helplessness a worthwhile experience she'd never have if she hadn't met (quietly, obviously, fallen for) him?
it isn't a part she likes to acknowledge, but... maybe it's because she avoid speaking on the consequences of her EGO use before. or something else. a lot of them are vengeful, really. in different ways. ]
I know it all sounds reaaaally weird and unbelievable, but it is what it is! The first hurdle for most people is accepting these entities as something other than "monsters", but I guess that's where my experience in their research comes in handy.
no subject
does this mean malkuth herself at some point in time could have wanted something that badly? or is this far more current, and perhaps she's still burning for something that rafayel just can't see. ... and maybe it's better off that way.
which is why he does fall into thought on the other line. letting the silence overtake the line before he eventually speaks. ] I don't think it sounds that crazy, actually. I can't say if they're monsters or not, but I think those feelings... those emotions, they could happen to anyone.
We all take the events in our lives differently. Honestly, I've heard similar stories.
[ his own, included. ]
If you really do feel for it, I think that just means, you have a lot of emotional intelligence. ... Or, you just have a lot of emotions to share in general. [ last part is a bit more lighthearted. ]
no subject
spiral, maybe, tunnel towards something thinking if you push hard enough that you'll break through, that if you work hard enough you'll be rewarded, that if you thrust yourself into the way enough they'll have to see you, that...
his eventual response drags her head back up, staring at the syntrofos before she rests her cheek against her arm again, ears flicking. it's reassuring, to know she's not alone. but it's also very, very sad. she wonders if he regrets asking. or calling. or sending some fairies her way, even if she doesn't get why he did.
she thinks of his unanswered question. is being of a similar mind to her good or bad? she's emotional to an extent, in that her heart does lead a lot of her decisions, but isn't like she can't see where to cut losses... that was her specialty in l. corp. knowing acceptable losses and prioritizing the end result, whatever the cost of means. ]
Do you think you could resonate with it? If you had access to it the way I do. Artists are supposed to have pretty good emotional depth to them after all, or so I've heard.
no subject
[ after all, he did always have the drive and thirst to know more. to understand. his curiosity of the surface world and humans was no different. the only thing is, reality is often... so different than the fantasies people create.
placing that aside though... he's still, admittedly, not sure he completely comprehends how it ends up manifesting into abilities or what the scope of that power is, but rafayel feels like he doesn't necessarily have to understand all that to get a peek into her world. ]
But, I should correct you on one thing, not all artists are the same, yeah? Did you want to know about some strange, unknown artist you've never heard of before, or me?
no subject
[ but it comes with a bubble of a laughter, like it's ridiculous she'd want to know anyone else. she already knows another artist very well anyway. netzach is extremely empathetic... but his own hang-ups are different, just enough that there's no way he could tap into the Abnormalities she can.
where she needs control, he's content to let it go. but she admires that about him too. ]
Art's just a very emotional seeming thing, so I thought it'd be an acceptable generalization. How you choose to convey things and what you choose to convey, how they get interpreted by your audience in return... You know.
no subject
It is. But, you already know... I'm not really the kind of person to become too focused on how others interpret my work. I think there are things where we should leave to our guts, yeah? If I think too much about how others perceive my work, I could miss out on creating something I really want, you know. I told you before, but it's important for each person to focus on their own brushstrokes. Find their own colors, and really pursue what they really want. [ he knows she hasn't forgotten, but he repeats it anyway. ]
So when you look at my work, I hope that's how you'll understand too.
no subject
there's a brief pause, then the sound of her standing and voice a bit further away. ]
I like that you draw whatever you want. [ simple. ] But it's natural to wonder what someone else might think or gather from the things you put out too, even if you don't let yourself get caught up in it. Elijah ended up thinking too much about what others considered though and suffered for it, but it's a hard habit to break. At least in this life... I'm not looking for any particular interpretation, or hoping someone will see what I do. It is nice when we share the same thought though.
[ a shuffling noise, then something laid down on the desk, her voice closer again, nearly covering the soft sound of a page turning. ]
That's partly what our critique session was about, right? [ it's not a question in the sense that she knows, but a somewhat sincere inquiry. her interpretation of it, as it were. ] But even if it wasn't, it was one of the most fun things I'd ever done... I really looked forward to what you'd have to say, even if I'd choose a different subject now.
[ not takasugi and his playing, though it still makes an impression on her even today. the way he plucks notes from the air. how his fingers so easily follow a chord the way a bird does the wind. it's like second nature; it's something she's enamored with, but at the same time... nothing she's stepping towards the way she is now, the gentle sound of a pencil on rougher paper. it isn't just because she already like to sketch either. maybe she's always, since the day they first met, when
oh she knows what to get him for fruit now? sorry her pencil is pausing before furiously writing something on the side. where on earth is she getting it though. that's a problem for future malkuth. ]
Don't bother asking what, though. I won't tell you.
no subject
Exactly. [ he nods along on the line. though, it isn't obvious to himself, he says these words like it's praise. ] If I knew you'd have that much fun, I would have had you crit my other sketches too. [ a joke, if just because they were mostly of the aquatic life he did see here. one, even of the creature he had first encountered on the bridge. or even flowers and plants unique to the karterian landscape. ]
I think it's valuable because you chose that subject, you know. [ not just because it's takasugi, either. the subject themselves was inconsequential, it's more... ] I think art sometimes encapsulates time. Those feelings you had are preserved in each of your pencil strokes. We know it's pointless because everything falls under the laws of time, but we always keep trying... That kind of thing? [ he says it as if it's a question more than his conviction over the years.
but, he falls quiet, enjoying the sound of her scribbling on paper. ]
You're stingy as always. Makes me wonder where you learned it from.
[ not the teacher, obviously. or that's his implication, anyway. ]
no subject
what is done today has an effect on tomorrow. from something as small as preparation to make the day following easier, to as grand as a building that might afford its inhabitants the chance to dream of a future brighter than yesterday's. his understanding, his musing... must come from somewhere deeper, beyond just an artist's perspective, and malkuth hatches shadows in the loose outline she's begun to sketch, amusement in her tone. ]
I'm friends with a group that think showing your hand is boring, Rafayel. Rinne's a gambler... Takasugi considers it more interesting for someone to guess... Niki tends to go along with the other two. [ maybe he doesn't count. ] So if you guess what I'm drawing, then I'll show you when I'm done.
[ just a little game, a reason to stay on, even if she'd claimed her fingers her from texting prior. it'd been a lie in the first place -- but what excuse could she use if he asked? nothing comes to mind. ]
But, [ with a kind of tease, ] I'm not too stingy to keep you from asking questions to narrow it down, if you'd like to try. We've been friends for a little while now, haven't we? I think you'll get it. It's not like I'm hard to read... you just need to know what to ask.
no subject
much less, he decides it'd be best to focus as little as possible on what sort of face she could be making. you know, for his own inner (peace). ] Rinne did mention being a gambler, and about luck... But, there's nothing "luck" related about making an educated guess, Miss Up-and-Coming Artist.
[ that said, he does just fall into the lull of listening to her for a second.
he also seems busy on his own line, probably lining up some seashells, before he eventually breaks the silence with: ] Is it a person? [ she seemed to like to translate her emotions into her work. specifically of the bonds she makes. if takasugi was the first person to impact her work as it had, then wouldn't it make sense it could be another? ]
no subject
[ a simple, affirmative answer, propping her cheek up in her hand as she continues to sketch. it's hard to ignore how much she's grinning when she can feel it against her palm, but hopefully it doesn't come out too much in her voice. ]
I'm still not great at it... but I kinda like drawing people. They're made of some pretty basic shapes, just like a building.
[ the length of a face, paneling of cheeks and roundness of a door's mark curved on any floor plan. there's a pause before she jumbles around in her desk for an eraser, rubbing at the paper and brushing the scraps away. the familiar noise returns after, lighter as she feathers the outline of a nose. ]
I haven't tried animals yet, but I think they'd be pretty easy. You just have to draw them the way clouds do.
no subject
drawing people... it's a subject he tended to avoid, personally. prior to this, there had probably only been a handful of people he's drawn, even just for practice. there are probably a hundred attempts he's once made at a face he knows has forgotten him, but also... it's funny to think he's also drawn malkuth's outline before too.
two more facts he opts to ignore. ] Yeah, and just like a building its how those shapes come together that creates the final product, right? But, I'd like to think there may be more subtlety to expression. What kind of face does your subject have on? Do they seem somber like they just had a really bad day... Or, are they grinning away on the phone, for example?
[ teasing aside. ] The clouds do leave a lot of imagination though.
Is that how you see animals? [ as almost fantasy-like, perhaps? or maybe out of their grasp? ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)