|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 9:14 am
Isaiah's day provided him with a similar lack of enthusiasm. He had but two afternoon meetings to attend - one for his store, in which he provided information about the quarter's prosperity in addition to a forecast of changes, and another with the insurance company that reviewed the case of his apartment. Destiny City insurers, he found, were far more difficult about paying out for any expense with which he lacked an itemized receipt. Explanation of the trials there due to the fire garnered him no sympathy, and no leniency - they still expected documentation despite its burning to ash. His claim reached a standstill unless his bank's online statements offered a slew of information.
That meeting ran late, and afterward he sought one of the local restaurants for dinner before he returned home. With a profusion of local awards tacked about its walls and the welcoming, rich scent permeating the air, Isaiah expected that the food they provided was top quality. On a venture, Isaiah ordered a pizza large enough to accommodate himself and his roommate for both dinner and leftovers. Having very little idea what she ate, he ordered for meats to remain only on the one side of the pizza. It was only afterward that he realized, if Gwen was vegan, she still couldn't touch it.
And yet, even with the hot pie ready to go, Isaiah found himself lodged in the restaurant for an additional hour due to a youma fight occurring outside its doors. While the combatants never made it inside, the youma's whiplike tail cracked one of the pains and busted out another. The people inside panicked and scrambled to the back, and the valiant (if not marginally more petrified) owner declared that none would leave the premises until they were certain of their safety.
The battle only lasted minutes.
So when Isaiah reached the door of Gwen's apartment, the pizza balanced on one hand was lukewarm at best, and Isaiah was thoroughly exhausted from the set of inconveniences that tainted his evening. When he opened the door, he expected Reilly to rocket toward him and beg obnoxiously for some food, but he heard not a single scratch of dog claws on the old hardwoods. Setting the pizza aside on one of the side tables, Isaiah shut the door behind himself and ventured further into the apartment.
"Gwen?" He called, shortly before spotting her. There she lay on the couch with her head atop some kind of frozen produce bag. "Hangover that bad? There's a cure for that. It's called pizza and more alcohol. More alcohol is going to be an excellent idea, considering how well this day's been going."
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:25 am
The sound of Isaiah's voice gave Gwen enough incentive to turn her head in his direction. She knew she looked worse for the wear with her hair wild, face pale, make-up who knows where on her face, but at that particular moment it was the farthest thing from her mind. The splitting headache was doing its damn best at making her feel like complete s**t. "If only it were that simple." She groaned and reluctantly lifted herself up a bit, so she was sitting a bit straighter. A nausea, which had been thankfully missing from her list of symptoms rumbled in her stomach at the mention of food or drink. Especially alcohol "I don't think I could stomach anything right now, actually." Reilly, whom had been quiet sitting on the opposite end of the couch got up and hopped off the couch to give Isaiah a good sniff over and to look longingly at the pizza box. "Reilly, no." Gwen scolded the dog weakly, but he listened none-the-less and snatched up one of his numerous toys scattered around the apartment and began gnawing on it. All the while he kept his eyes on his owner and Isaiah. Grabbing the bag of peas which had managed to slide down between her and couch when she moved, Gwen pulled her blankets down so only her legs were covered, revealing the fact she had already switched into one of her nightgowns. She laid the now partially thawed bag on the couch beside her. "I had a bit of an accident and managed to give myself a nasty hit on the back of the head." She reached back and attempted to smooth out her hair a bit but stopped with a wince when it tugged in just the right spot. She lowered her arms. "Otherwise I'd happily help you eat that pizza." Gwen knew she should have bee hungry what with her having not eaten anything yet, but there was no way she was going to get over the nausea that only grew worse thinking about the pie. "Thanks for thinking about me though." She smiled tiredly before shifting a bit on the couch, drawing the blankets around her feet more so there was a spot for Isaiah to sit down if he wanted. "I thought you were out with some of your friends tonight. Wasn't expecting you back until the morning." Not that she probably wouldn't have been in the same spot, but she'd like to think that she may have moved to her bedroom to try and rest by then.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 24, 2016 2:07 am
"Suit yourself. It works just as well for leftovers." Isaiah pulled a slice from the box and balanced it on one hand as he approached his roommate. She looked worse for wear, though not terribly plagued with injury. Leaning over her, his free hand picked at the bag of frozen peas to survey the damage. The two long wefts of hair that framed his face threatened to tickle her nose. "That looks pretty intense for self-inflicted damage. You sure you're okay?" He straightened up then, and eyed her directly.
After a moment, he claimed the seat next to her and started on his pizza. A long strand of cheese looped toward his knee before he managed to chew it in half. The dangling string was left to physics until the next bite. "I got tied up getting the pizza, actually. One of those monsters was fussing around outside before something came along and took care of it. The shop owner was so paranoid about insurance technicalities if someone got hurt, so he kept everyone indoors until his nerves finally wound down. There's not much you can do in a pizza parlor, either, and I got tired of looking at Tumblr porn about halfway through." Lifting up the slice, he angled his head back to deep throat the cheese string before taking another bite.
Reilly looked far more interested in his pizza than Gwen was - the dog took a seat and nearly pressed to Isaiah's leg as he flashed large puppy eyes up toward the slice. Isaiah glanced down, unimpressed, and continued to eat. "So, how'd you manage that? Busy vacuuming and slipped on the cord?" The bump appeared more like she was thrown down.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 24, 2016 5:10 pm
“Sometimes it’s better as leftovers.” She agreed despite the nausea that rolled in her stomach at the idea of possible breakfast or lunch tomorrow. Still, she watched as Isaiah snatched a slice from the box and walked over to her. She was bit surprised when he leaned over her to inspect the injury, and carefully blew at the wefts of hair that dared to dangle in front of her face in the process. She noted that his hair still smelt of shampoo and what she assumed was some sort of hair product. It was a close call avoiding the tickling that that the scents created in her nose, but succeeded she did. “I’ll be fine. Just, feeling a bit sick from it is all. I am sure I’ll be back to my old self after a good night’s sleep.” As he made himself comfortable on the couch in the space she made, she shifted herself a bit again so that she sat more in the corner of the couch against the arm. This prevented her from having to move her head too much as she now sat at more of an angle to him. With knees bent up, her blanket tucked feet just barely missed brushing against the man’s thigh. “A monster, huh?” She had heard about the monster attacks that had occurred across the city but had always just chocked them up as an urban myth that people brought up regularly to gather attention. Of course, that was until she ran into her own monster. And that was only half of the crazy s**t that went down. “Well at least no one got hurt. I am sorry that your tumblr porn wasn’t enough to keep you entertained.” She chuckled lightly. With Reilly repositioning himself closer to Isaiah Gwen raised a brow. “He’ll snatch anything that you drop, so be prepared. He won’t try to grab it from you though. My Da and Brother have him that way from sneaking him food and I haven’t been able to break the behavior.” Still the little sheltie was fairly well behaved despite his affinity for table scraps. Though, from the looks of it, he was really putting on the works for Isaiah. “Oh, um.” She paused, a slight panic shot through her considering she hadn’t thought of an actual excuse for her bumped head. Quickly she threw together a story and prayed it was passable. “I was out walking Reilly and something caught his attention. Not sure what it was but he managed to trip me up with his leash and I went down pretty hard.” Oh God, I hope that passes muster. “I was so worried about him running off if I let go his leash that I didn’t brace myself when I hit the ground.” Not wanting to give Isaiah much of a chance to ponder over her story, Gwen quickly tried to change topics. “So, I am assuming you’re intending to stay in tonight since you brought pizza. Anything in particular you want to do? Watch TV? Play cards?”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Mar 04, 2016 3:30 pm
"I'm sorry my tumblr porn wasn't enough to keep me entertained, either." He bit into his slice of pizza thoughtfully. Wonder how Gwen would've reacted to that had she been with me. She still sounds a bit skeptical about it; it's a little hard to deny when you're faced with one of the damned things. "It's a bit of an unnerving hangup, but I guess it's not a lot different from the occasional attempted robbery when you're at a convenience store. You get stuck playing spectator and partial victim. Not that I had to deal with that more than once in New York." Which was, really, a surprising turn of events; Isaiah knew of nothing overtly unsafe about the neighborhood at the time. He suspected it was a case of knowing the clerk or owner of the shop, and bad blood boiling between them.
Her story about her dog walking experience earned a look, but nothing to suggest that he doubted her. Heavy lids cast him a visual tone of looking perpetually unimpressed, however. While it was not so, he could do nothing about his appearance. "Looks like it hurts. You can always cheat and alternate acetaminophen with ibuprofen - it's what I've always done with particularly bad hangovers. Lets you skip the four-hour-rule a bit." He chewed through another bite, and Reilly looked at him hungrily. He looked back, legitimately unimpressed this time.
"Shoo," he muttered with a brush of his foot. The dog hardly budged.
Isaiah's deadpan sarcasm kicked in at the question of intentions for the night. "Actually, I was going to ask you if you wanted to have sex, but since you're not feeling well..." He shrugged, expecting her to pick up on the joke immediately. "I figured I was going to draw something. Or someone." He looked down toward the begging dog. "Certainly not you." After another nudge of his foot, he found the dog cemented to the floor. The ill manners were thoroughly ingrained, he noted. "You got any mechanical pencils lying around? I assume you've got some decent paper to go with it."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Mar 04, 2016 4:39 pm
Comparing the monsters to a hold up in New York was not quite how Gwen would have described such an encounter. Then again, she’d been anything but an observer during unlike Isaiah who had been safely tucked away in doors. She idly wondered if there was any chance it had been the same monster? What a strange twist of fate that would be if it had been. The way he talked about these monsters though was as if such things were normal day-to-day life. Sure, she’d read articles about attacks and all but they never really seemed real. Maybe he’d run into them before? Ah well, it wasn’t really important anyway. Isaiah’s look worried Gwen for a moment but when he lacked to comment on her white lie she relaxed. Lieing like this is going to get old, fast.“I took some ibuprofen when I got in and I think they’re finally starting to kick in some.” She tentatively reached back again to the lump. Her finger very gently probed around the bump, hoping to feel a change in size but no such luck. “It could be worse, I guess.” Isaiah’s obvious joke caused Gwen to grin. “Mmmm, sorry to ruin your plans.” She laughed, but felt a heat rising in her at the thought of his proposition. It got to the point that she pushed the blankets down from her shoulders so that only her legs were covered, revealing one of her usual strappy chemises. The cooler air of the apartment quickly helped alleviate her rising body temperature. “Pencils? Yes I have a lot of them. Hold on, I’ll grab them for you.” She carefully got up from the couch, a bit worried that any fast movement might cause her issues, but upon standing she felt no ill effects. Piling the blankets on the couch she turned and padded into her bedroom and to the desk where she kept all of her art supplies. She grabbed a few different mechanical pencils before opening the drawer to the right and pulling out one of her drawing pads. It only took a minute tops before the redhead was sitting back on the couch again and passing over the supplies to Isaiah. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t at all interested in what he was going to draw. She’d yet to see any of his work and was curious of his style. “So, what are you going to draw?” Was it going to be something from memory? If so, Gwen was already slightly jealous. That was a skill she’d yet to come close to mastering.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 09, 2016 8:16 pm
"You sure you should be grabbing anything right now?" Isaiah lifted a brow at her when Gwen got to her feet, but she looked to navigate the place well enough. "Isn't it something like, if you feel nauseated you're probably concussed?" By then, she already vanished, and he rested the side of his jaw atop a curled fist. "And then there's that whole thing about... Oh, something like if you fall asleep, you die. You're not experiencing anything like that, right?"
She returned with no mishaps, however, and sported a wealth of mechanical pencils. With it came a drawing pad, which he flipped to a fresh, unmolested page. Afterward he plucked the first 0.9 mechanical pencil he could find, scribbled on the page beneath it to flat the lead, and began with the heel of his hand gliding great, smooth circles over the blankness. "When I was younger," he started tentatively, "I had a long phase where I drew people in some pretty contorted positions. This necessitated finding a whole lot of gymnasts, of course, but when I drew them, I did so without their heads. Or sometimes their faces were only half-there. And it looked creepy to everyone else, of course, but..." He shrugged. "It was a way for me to work out some things from that time. It worked better, I think, than talking to some therapist about it.
"Now, there's different problems to work on." Carefully he started his perspective lines, lining up a clear path toward the center of the page that filled with geometric squares, then rectangles, then shelves on fixtures, then supermarket racks sporting a variety of chip bags, boxed popcorns, trail mixes, and other snacks. Plain ground became tile, and slowly resolved with grunge marks across the whites and scuffs that littered the blacks. Each line bristled with energy, and each stationary object looked to leap across the page in a single blink. then, toward the center of the slowly resolving, aisle, a gangly shape started to form. Ovals became stand-ins for hips, connected to a long torso. Ribs formed over the top of it, a head beyond that, then arms, then shins. Lines whisked and whirled in multidirectional motion, turning the figure with expert practice and rendering a poise to the creature that lent it both brilliant life and iniquitous intent.
Then he started working on the creature's features, which lent it an enormously humanistic expression. "Through most of my college career, I got great marks on framing and movement. My teachers said that I could render motion without a problem. But, when it came to faces... It's like I couldn't figure them out. And, of course, the only cure for fixing something you suck at is to practice at it, and I tried that for the longest time. Everything I turned in had faces at different angles, people wearing expressions and all that. Each time, I'd hit C-grade on my faces. Then, for my final project of my junior year, I drew someone with a face so ******** up and contorted that it looked like something out of a horror movie. They finally liked that.
"And I finally figured out how to draw a face." The rudimentary details were down now, showcasing the hints of musculature and power alongside the vulnerability in the features. "So, I guess that's a roundabout way of saying that if anything I draw looks impressively creepy to you, I'm probably working something out." He flashed her a close-lipped smile afterward.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 09, 2016 9:38 pm
“If I do experience that I’ll make sure to come back and let you know.” She joked, teasingly while she shifted the blanket pile behind her and then to her left side so she could rest comfortably with an arm propped against the back of the couch, supporting her head carefully. “I think I am fine though. No need to worry.” She leaned in as much as she dare towards Isaiah. She didn’t want to feel imposing while he sketched. There really wasn’t much worse than having someone practically breathing down your neck as you worked. Each line he made was created with a purpose. Nothing seemed willy-nilly as simple circles, squares, and numerous other basic shapes began to take form into something more complete. Whatever he was drawing he was pulling from memory and Gwen watched in fascination as she listened to his story. “Art is very therapeutic. It’s one of the reasons I picked it up and people who don’t understand that would find your drawings creepy and morbid. I imagine, if I didn’t know better, I’d think the same. Now I’d just question if it was an artistic choice.” Reilly jumped up onto the couch next to her causing her to pull her eyes away from the drawing pad. The little sheltie was attempting to squeeze himself between her and Isaiah. Considering he’d probably be in Isaiah’s way she quickly snatched the pup up and placed him back on the floor. “We’ve all got our own problems to work through.” Brushing her hair over her shoulder she rested her head in her palm again while her gaze returned back to Isaiah’s work. The picture was beginning to take shape and she was enjoying every little bit of detail he was putting into the sketch. His teachers certainly were right. He had a great understanding for movement. It was one of the many things she knew she lacked in her own work with drawing people. Everything she did looked stiff and unnatural. It was a frustrating problem but one that didn’t bother her terribly since she’d taken to landscape and animal sketches. For some reason those clicked more for her. Still Isaiah’s skills were certainly well above her own in every department it seemed. Well, it was to be expected considering she did not study art in length besides high school classes and the odd college course here and there. “Maybe the extreme was what it took to break through whatever barrier you had created when you were younger?” It was hard to say of course. People had ways of creating blocks that sometimes they weren’t even aware of. “Either way, I am not squeamish and the macabre never bothered me.” She returned his smile with one of her own. “So as long as it doesn’t become outright disturbing, I won’t be too worried.” She yawned a bit, covering it up behind a hand. “I am amazed you just drew all of that without reference.” She sighed almost whimsically. “That’s a talent I feel like I’ll ever get down. Something always manages to look awkward or out of place if I don’t have my subject in front of me.” Another yawn escaped her and she sighed before shifting her position so she wasn’t so much ‘resting’ on her arm as much as the back of the couch. A small wave of nausea rolled through her stomach at the movement that was a bit too quick. “It’s a shame that you aren’t pursuing art as a career. I know it’s not something that’s necessarily easy to get into as a consistent income, but it could be an interesting side job if you wanted.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 12, 2016 7:16 am
Settling into the refining process was one of the most natural actions for Isaiah. Slowly vague bags gained shape, creases, color and light reflections. Some displayed false brand names in the same characteristically clean pop of commercial art. The background knew no resolution from its haziness, keeping sharp focus on the creature amidst the aisle. After a thought, he added a smattering of blood and its smears to the beaten tile floor.
"You might be right." Isaiah fussed with shading carefully, and tore a piece of the page beneath to facilitate sharp corners in the erasing process. "Or maybe enough time had passed that I finally got over it. It's hard to say. I'm just glad it's over with. Now when I draw people's faces and screw them up, I do it intentionally. Not that I have a lot of opportunities to do that - most people want to see themselves beautified in portraiture and sit in the most boring static poses you can possibly dream of. You have no idea how tired I am of seeing women seated in a chair with their hands in their lap as they look on toward nothing. It's so inane. I can't think of a worse posture for displaying someone's personality and body language. I mean, at least do something. Recline with a book, or eat a burger, or spill something on yourself. Make it interesting." He paused in drawing long enough to huff.
"Anyway, the point is that I don't get a lot of practice with it. And related to that point is that whole thing about pursuing art as a career. You're aware it's a shitshow if you don't have the right connections, at least. The other side of that is I can't stand drawing static figures - if there's no movement, there's no heart in it from me. And that causes a lot of problems, because if I ever got hired on by, say, a game company making trading cards, I'd have to draw a whole lot of backgrounds. Now you might be thinking, 'but Ice, you can add wind to the trees or have the water ripple or any of those things', and I'd say you're right, but that doesn't account for the absolute bore of rendering rock formations or canyons or even just. Ground. There's basically no way to get around static forms that require an impressive amount of detail."
Isaiah resumed drawing then, paying careful attention to maintaining form while he fleshed out musculature and luminosity for the central figure. After tearing another strip of paper from beneath, he rolled it into a tortillon and started into the shading process. "It's neither here nor there. I made my efforts about it and it didn't pay out. But I found something more stable, and it's not like my degree became completely useless to me. I still know how to draw as I was taught, and I enjoy it just the same. I just can't earn any money with it, so my diploma used to be my drink coaster before it... Well, went up in flames."
Isaiah cast a glance toward his companion for response, and narrowed eyes. The silence on her end stretched too long. "Gwen?" She fell asleep on me. Goddammit.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 12, 2016 7:54 am
Watching Isaiah draw was relaxing for the young woman. It was fascinating to her to see how he went about expanding on the skeleton he had established. The process was intricate and every pencil stroke appeared to have a definite purpose as he worked on the the background closest to his subject before letting it slowly fade out into obscurity the further away it went. Not to mention the detail going into his creature was incredibly interesting. Gwen couldn’t help but note the strong differences in their styles. While Isaiah’s art was well refined and with purpose, her own had a more sketchy look and almost seemed to be lackadaisical in its construction. Comparing the two it would be quite obvious who had more training in the art of illustration. Still, it didn’t particularly bother Gwen. Her art had always been more of a way to just escape the world for a short while and truthfully had never been intended for anyone but herself to see. The idea of following art as a profession had never particularly crossed her mind, especially since business had been such a big factor in her life since her father moved the family to New York. It just seemed natural for her to get into the field of entrepreneurship. “Mmmm...yes, I guess drawing people in the same pose could get boring very fast.” Another soft yawn escaped her and she allowed herself to sink a little further into the couch as she lounged back, pulling the blankets onto her lap once again. At this point she was only half paying attention to Isaiah as her eyes slowly drooped shut. The evening's events were finally catching up to her and watching Isaiah sketch had relaxed her to the point that her body began to betray her want to see the drawing to the end. Finally the woman dozed off completely to the sound of Isaiah’s voice and the scratching of the mechanical pencil on paper. She was destined to wake up with not only a possible headache but neck pain as well as her head tilted down towards her shoulder in an almost awkward way. Still she seemed unperturbed by it as she calmly slumbered with her legs half covered by blankets and hands resting where they had at one point been clutching the blankets close to her waist.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
