Living Things

[Grig Rosenthal]

The park bristled with the sound of human and animal activity. Joggers thumped along the trails, children laughed and cried and shrieked, if distantly, on the playground, their mother's chittered and gossiped, dogs barked, and birds squacked and twittered in the trees. Although the constant barrage of noise could be extremely irritating, for Gregory Rosenthal, it was comforting. The sounds of life all around him helped him feel less isolated from society, but without having to stress about interacting with anyone. Greg was busy inking the eyes of a sea goddess and her sailor lover as the sailor salutes his lady from a literal wave of her hair. She smiles sweetly. Greg hums to himself, lost in this Nautical Fantasy world, when he suddenly feels the shadow of another person standing over him. "Hmm?", he wordlessly asks, glancing up from his paper.

[Shaan C. Vladislav]

you're risking it all for some creepy girl

It was a manic happy day for Shaan, a very rare one mind you. She didnt smother herself in clothing, today she actually looked normal. A simple black tshirt and jean shorts with her boots, a flannel tied around her hips and even a small streak of red lipstick on her mouth. She looked actually alive, it was a nice change from her usual walking dead vibe. She had a bag slung over her shoulder of her art supplies, she had already set up an easel and unrolled the paper over it, her paints set up and her brushes ready, that was until something caught her eye.

It was a boy, or man depending on how proper you wanted to be, drawing something. She couldnt really help herself especially today, so the waif of a girl walked on over and stood on the tips of her toes, trying to simply peek at what he was drawing, that was until he looked up and actually noticed her. Now usually she would apologize and run, however today was a rare treat,s o she met him with her glass doll smile and wide eyed stare. "..You draw? I came here to do some painting myself, but I just noticed....Actually.. You're kinda beautiful.. Do.. May I paint you? You can keep working on what you're doing...but.. Well I'm going to paint you."

She gave a curt nod and moved to the easel not even ten feet away and took up her brush, looking at the pallet and taking a swipe of color, her blue doll eyes moving back up to look at the man she more or less said 'fuck you im painting you to'. Well, this was certainly a day was it not?

292 wORDS ✖ Grig Rosenthal ✖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) my eggroll lover

CODED BY REM OF WW

[Grig Rosenthal]

Greg was struck dumb by the girl's face and it's porcelain-perfect features. Me, beautiful? He smiled nervously, unsure of what to say. She wanted to paint him, for some reason. His face turned bright red under his black and gray curls and his eyes widened. He averted his gaze, finding it incredibly difficult to meet the intense blue of hers without panicking. "Uh, s-s-sure, uh g-go, uh, go ahead", he stammered. He tried to focus on the drawing but was finding it hard to continue darkening each eyelash. More importantly, he was surprised that anyone called him "beautiful", besides his mom. He closed his eyes, trying to conjure the song that inspired him to draw this scene. Greg sang softly, and low, under his breath."Sailing away on the crest of a wave, it's like magic..." 

[Shaan C. Vladislav]

you're risking it all for some creepy girl

The young girl let out a smirk at being given permission, she shrugged the flannel from her hips and tossed her hair over her shoulder, she set upon the canvas with reckless abandon. It came together slowly, streaks of paint going upon her arms as she worked. At a point she brushed her hand across her cheek, streaking it with a burnt umber tone. She had noted the stammer and thats what set her real idea in motion. It came together slowly under her hands, a piece unfolding like music from a piano. Her subject came to life on the sheet, his clothing replaced by something straight of a romance novel.

The sort of older shirt that had the drawstrings by the chest and pushed up to the elbows, black slacks and loafers. His face held a soft pink on the paper a flush as the portraits hand extended to his lady love. A lover that was quite literally to be described as the cosmos. A woman made of stars and the mane of her hair the entire galaxy. It was clear the two were meant to be dancing upon the universe in an endless waltz. It didn't take her very long to complete and through it, she managed to pick up on the soft vocals. The moment she finished she let out a breath as though she hadn't taken one while she worked, dropping the brush down and moving between her subject and the canvas.

She slowly turned the easel around to allot him a look if he wanted one. The portraits palled a dark celestial one. She promptly spun on her heels and let herself fall flat on her back onto the ground, her doe eyes gazing at the man, a twinkle of ecstasy in them. "Sorry.. I can't help it if I see someone beautiful... I want to paint them... I'm Shaan." The girl simply lay there as she spoke, exhaustion taking over her from the outburst.

330 wORDS ✖ Grig Rosenthal ✖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) my eggroll lover

CODED BY REM OF WW

[Grig Rosenthal]

"S-Shaan, hi. I'm, I'm, I'm Greg. Greg Rosenthal."His Christchurch accent was still a little thick, and so "Greg Rosenthal" sounded more like "Grig Rusinthel"  he waved a bit and, through his glasses, peered at her painting. It looked like a much more dashing version of himself courting a literal lady of the night. "Um, th-thank you, for the, for the c-compliment, Shaan, and you're uh, you're painting, it looks r-really good." He thought to himself on how to approach this question in his head without offending his (hopefully) new friend, so said "Shaan, that uh, that name, it-it isn't exactly Eng-English, is it. I uh, w-was wondering where, where, w-where's it from. I mean, you, ob-obviously, but um, I-I'm not good at this." He shrugged and laughed a bit, half at his incompetence, and half to distract himself from the looming horror at how much of an idiot he must sound to her.   

[Shaan C. Vladislav]

you're risking it all for some creepy girl

Her doe eyes stared at the man as she took in his name. Grig.. Well it was probably Greg but she would sort that out later. She rested her hands just under her ribs, moving her shirt up to expose her pale stomach as she patted her skin, making a little drum beat to sound out. "Greg... Greg greg greg... It's nice to meet you... Super nice." She let out a small chuckle and the softest smile her face could hold. He had thanked her for the compliment? Why, it was a true statement. She sat up, turning to face the man and cocked her head as she crossed her pale legs.

"Its no problem.. Im always looking for people to paint.. I can paint the same person hundreds of times and i dont get bored of them..its just hard to find people i like... You can keep it if you want... It'll just end up on a roll or in a drawer if i do." She looked him up and down a few times. His question made her raise her eyebrows and take a pause. She rubbed the back pf her neck and smiled a shy smile. "My name is Hindu...but.. I'm actually Russian.. My.. mother thought i would sound exotic with it..." She shrugged off the words and placed her palms on the earth.

A moment passed before she perked up once more, biting her lower lip and tugging softly at the grass below her hands. "Tell me.. What do you wanna do.. Right at this moment the first thing that comes to mind."

266 wORDS ✖ eggermegger ✖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) my eggroll lover

CODED BY REM OF WW

[Grig Rosenthal]

Greg's mouth dropped a little when she revealed an expanse of skin right in front of him as she patted her stomach. It was a little too much for the young man, and he started sweating a bit. "Nice to meet you...my name is Hindi but I am Russian...always looking for people to paint...you can keep it if you like..." That's when his attention was brought back to the conversation. "Y-yes! yes, I would like to keep it. In-in-infact, I want to, to, to keep all your paintings! All of them. In film. Yes. Uh, would uh, would you like to, to, to,to,um, to do backgrounds? I'm working on a double-feature s-short on Queen of Sheba and The Bleeding Tree, if you would like to do b-backgrounds and colours." He smiled broadly, actually excited about the possible prospect of working together. Shaan asked him what he wanted to do right now. "Right now I wanna change my shirt. A-after that, do you, um do you wanna watch a movie and eat cereal?"

[Shaan C. Vladislav]

you're risking it all for some creepy girl

The girl noticed his expression at her skin,a small jolt of pride ran through her. She had never seen anyone have that expression towards her, and to be honest it was a little overwhelming for her, she liked it. She listened to his offer, her head nodding every few words as she thought about the offer. It would be something to do but on the reverse end it was work. She shrugged and chewed on her lower lip a bit, thinking of exactly if she wanted this. Well it was this or manic depressive six am paint tantrums.

As she heard what he wanted to do she stood up and brushed off her bare legs, looking at him and nodding. "...I'd like that actually...I'd also like to work with you...so..yes" She turned and slowly began to remove the paper from the roll, rolling it slightly to keep it safe and extending it to him, she waited until he took it, either way once he did she turned and packed up her art supplies into the bag. She slowly turned to him and shouldered the bag, it looked massive next to her small frame but she carried it pretty easily.

"Where to then, I'm eager to see what i get to do for you... and have some cereal... I havent eaten... in... I... a day or two? I'm not too sure, but im starving." She said the words with such a singsong tone and a smile it was hard to be seen as destructive, more something forgetful. She was excited though, she wanted nothing more than to have some decent human contact. It was then that his comment about her art actually registered. No he was just being nice, that's all it was right? Still, a small blush came to her cheeks.

304 wORDS ✖ Grig Rosenthal ✖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) my eggroll lover

CODED BY REM OF WW

[Grig Rosenthal]

 Greg beamed, his titanium braces gleaming in the sunlight. "W-well okay then!" He packed his pen and paper away in his backpack, a kind of nervous energy bursting from within him. The young man adjusted his glasses and stood up. It was just then that he realized how much taller he was than Shaan. For a brief moment, he peered down at her eyes, and then looked away, scratching the back of his head. He had a crick in his back and then bent backward to pop his spine. Unfortunately, he bent too far and ended up slamming his head against his rear. "Oof!" Greg corrected himself, though it took a bit of effort. His head swivelled back and forth, making sure no one had noticed that the bent in half, except Shaan. Suddenly, Gregory Rosenthal realized his possibly terrible mistake. "I-I-I h-hope that seeing me f-f-f-fold didn't freak you out. You, s-s-seem really n-nice, and I want to feed you, b-because you're nice and you, uh, hadn't eaten since y-yesterday at least." He forced a smile. Please don't leave, please don't run, I'm not a freak.

[Shaan C. Vladislav]

Shaan had a bright smile on her face and the eye contact made her chuckle a little. It was an interestimg thought that she eas actually making a friend. No she was about to go watch a movie with a boy and eat food with him. She felt a jolt run through her. That was until she saw him fold like he did. Her smile dropped and so did her jaw, she was shocked. Was..he like her, she suddenly felt self conscious and small, she had found someone like her.

"Y..youre like me..?" Her voice trembled a little and she actually took a step closer to him. Sure she went to a school with mutants like herself but she never got close to anyone. She was all at once scared and excited. "No nono.. I.. No i.. Look! You.. I wont leave you." She took a small case from her pocket and pulled out a small razor, she jammed it into her wrist and with a sharp jerk she spilled her blood.

She closed her eyes a moment and then opened them wide, looking at the man. Her blood slowly rose from the wound, forming and twisting slowly into the form of a water lily, hardening into glass in her hand. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

[Grig Rosenthal]

When she stabbed herself, Greg winced, and then he saw her blood crystallize. He sighed, completely relieved. She understood. She was a mutant too. He laughed a bit, and said, "C'mon, let's uh, let's get out of here before the neighborhood chases us d-down with uh, torches and pitchforks." Uncertain, he offered Shaan his hand, grinning like a doofus. "S-shall we get back t-to the dorm? We can start on the, on the bathroom scene." He hoped she would take his hand, and if not take his hand, at least come along with him. It would be wonderful to have a friend.

[Shaan C. Vladislav]

you're risking it all for some creepy girl

Her eyes betrayed a sense of excitement, a sense of feeling alive. She nodded at his idea and with a small sigh, the flower melted into blood, dropping to the ground. She laughed at his comment on them being hunted down. "Wouldn't that be a sight to see? Don't worry, anyone comes at ya with a pitchfork i'll take em out. You're my Greg now. You get the full 'ah ya mess with him i'll one vee one you'" She chuckled a bit, oh god her nerd was showing. See most of her nights if she wasn't painting she was playing mmo's or doing something of the like.

She noticed his hand and froze for a moment. She had never really so much as held hands with someone, so this was.. well this was interesting. She slowly reached out for his hand and took it, taking a small hopping step to be by his side, she walked with him, giving a nod to the idea of going to the dorm. She was self conscious for so many reasons. Her hands were cold from her anemia, she was so worried about getting blood on him, despite holding his opposite hand.

"I'd.. actually really love that.. I can't wait"

208 wORDS ✖ Grig Rosenthal ✖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) my eggroll lover

CODED BY REM OF WW