Welcome to Gaia! ::

The slimer was lounging on his lounge chair, melting into the little dents, and into the cracks on its pleatherly surface. His arm hung down at his side, bent at the elbow with his forearm laying down on the ground, and a feslime nipping at his fingers; its purr was soothing, though a little jagged as it sometimes bubbled.

He was laying in the dark, though, not in total darkness. He and his pet had a slight green glow. His eyes were half open, while the feslime’s was closed since it was absent in the dark. While it was cooing, it’s master was brooding. He had little happiness for a while now, and it wasn’t helping that his only friend, or the only one he considered a friend, Circe, was absent from the academy. He should be with some company, misery does love company, but he’s not good company.

“Go away,” he muttered when he heard a knock on his door, though he quickly realized that he rarely got visitors, “Wait! Who is it?”

Pizza, he thought, he was never much of a foodie until he met the donut-fiend best friend Circe. He didn’t care much for the greasy, meat, cheese covered meals. He had a little sweet tooth though, and other than that, he barely ate at all. But delivery? It made the slimer cautious and curious.

“I’m coming!” El Greco had been making enemies lately, and he felt that this was probably a prank. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

The ghost tumbled off of the chair, and on to his fours, scaring the feslime, sending it skittering into the little nooks in his dorm. He then slowly hovered upright, his glow casting little light on the stacks of books, frames, canvases, finished and unfinished paintings around the room. There were rows of them, like columns that reached the ceiling. If he wasn’t around the school harassing students, or in the library thumbing through magazines and books, he was in his dorm, painting.

“I didn’t order pizza.” The ghost held the doorknob, unlocking it, but kept the door closed. “Who is out there?”

“Amrita?” He mumbled inaudibly as he opened the door. “What does she want?”

“Hi.” El Greco’s expression changed a little, from disappointed to a bland poker face. “I’m not hungry, but if it’ll make you happy, sure, I guess, just let me get my-“

The ghost shut the door quickly before she could respond, and opened it as fast.

“Oh yeah, I forgot.” The ghost opened the door wider as his skin seem to secrete more slime that coated most of his upper body to eventually take shape of the leather jacket he’s usually seen around in. “I always have my jacket on.”