projectroxas | (no subject)

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[ of course, as it turns out, the one thing that she's forgotten to mention to lyssa was the fact that she didn't really have a convenient method of transportation. all she'd asked for the location & time, thinking that would have been enough. of course it hadn't been.

... oh well.

hooking her small messenger bag-slash-purse on her shoulder, she bids her dad goodbye after reassuring him that she'll be back by ten (yes, yes, don't worry, just the mall--). & promptly feels glad that she left two hours before the time she's supposed to meet lyssa 'cause she just missed the bus & the next one won't be arriving for another half-hour. she settles down, pews & waits. long story short (after she subtracts the bus ride & all the weird things her hair is doing in the humidity), she manages to get to the mall in once piece: none of her organs are missing, her dress isn't ripped up, & no one had shoved her head down a toilet. day's pretty good so far (where's wood to knock on when she needed some?). 'cept the fact that she's probably a few minutes late, but--

... oh well.

she'll apologize to lyssa as soon as she can find him. ]

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[ reluctance is a physical thing on his face. that is: i don't wanna. (what is he, a kid?)

slowly puts the pencil down to reach across to place his right hand in between lyssa's. ]

Anything else, your majesty?

[ wiggles to sit more upright, beginning a slow, light massage on the hand. eyes are on his work, concentrating even as he speaks: ]

My mom used to do this for me when my hand would hurt after drawing for so many hours. It might not take the pain away completely, but it'll help.

[ the muscles are still stiff & uncompromising under the massage, but it does help. at least with the ache, which is half the problem. twitches each of his fingers as lyssa does his thing, shoulders relaxing while he leans back against the headboard even further.

mind your manners. (be quiet, sis.) ]

Thanks.

[ nods absently as he continues his work, the only sound coming from his mouth throughout the duration of the massage is some humming and light singing (probably from some show he watched with amanda). five, ten, fifteen minutes pass by before he's satisfied enough. lets go only after he reaches over to quickly kiss a knuckle. ]

There, good as new!

[ he really hoped that wasn't my little pony coming out of lyssa's mouth. his niece watches that.

eyes pop back open (don't know when he closed them) at the kiss. he pulls the hand back, his fingers brushing against lyssa's cheek as they pass by. then he's inspecting his hand as if it's a foreign thing, curling his fingers. well, the fact that that's possible is an improvement. (sometimes this just felt like plain ol' arthritis rather than his spine & muscles refusing to cooperate with his brain.) ]

Not quite, but passable. [ picks up his pencil again & gives lyssa a nudge with a foot. ] Bring your sketchbook. You can watch and sketch at the same time.

[ scoots closer to him, if only so he can simultaneously squirm himself lower onto the bed so he can push his face into nick's side. curls up like a cat, yawning a little. ]

I would, but my legs don't work very well right now. You should get it for me instead.

[ puts his left hand in lyssa's hair & just lets it rest there. ]

Nevermind then. Just go to sleep.

[ closes his eyes, fully awake despite how calm his voice sounds. ]

But I want to draw you.

[ an eyebrow goes up. glances down at him. ]

Can't do that from memory?

[ cracks an eye open to look up at him. ]

It's not the same. Sketching from memory makes everything look stiff and unreal. I enjoy capturing the way someone looks in real-life time.

Personal preference. [ since he preferred memory-work & adding little imaginary details -- but again. personal preference.

removes his hand from lyssa's head to flip to the last page in his current sketchbook. taps lyssa's temple with his pencil. ]

Draw here, then.

[ smile widens across his face, quickly sitting up to take the sketchbook and pencil. after he gets into a comfortable position again: ]

And what will you do while I'm making you as immortal as a god?

[ rolls his shoulders a little. ]

Be your model and [ draw in his head-- ] rest my hand.

[ seems satisfied with that response well enough that he starts on his work, not even bothering on doodling quick warmup sketches, just diving right into drawing a light sketch to get the proportions down right. it only takes him a minute, wanting to use most of his time by doing a proper and clean piece. again he hums a tune to fill the silence (and it's not my little pony this time, honest) but he's mostly focusing on his work.

but he's a perfectionist (even more so when he's drawing someone he's familiar with) so it takes longer than usual, careful in making every single strand of hair on nick's head look exactly how it is at that very moment; it's now that he's thankful that nick can sit still relatively well.

sighs lightly once he's finished looking over the drawing a few times, feeling distinctly proud. glances up at nick when he's certain that he's finished, changing positions so he can show him. ]

[ he's all but fallen asleep by the end of it though, head bobbing up & down as he dazes. the designs & details are all mapped out in his head so he's run out of things to think about (well, not really, but things that he wants to think about?) half-way through. so he twitches in surprise when movement from his side jolts him awake, needing to blink a little to clear his head.

glances down at the piece, taking the sketchbook to inspect it straight-up rather than at an angle. a few minutes later, he finally nods. ]

Looks good. You want to keep it?

[ raises an eyebrow as he lays back down, voice playful. ]

Do you want to keep a drawing of yourself?

Hmm. . . [ looks down at it again. ] Touch up the shading and I might be tempted.

[ pouts and takes the sketchbook from him even as he says: ]

But you moved already...

[ raises his hand to flick his nose lightly. ]

Not that much. And the light source hasn't changed.

[ sniffs at that, reaching up to rub at his nose before getting to work again. mumbles a little. ]

You still moved...

[ snorts in response, half-amused. ]

Quit that. This isn't a science.

[ hums in consideration, twirling the pencil in hand as he stares at the drawing. once he gets back to work: ]

Are you sure about that? Art and science both require a lot of fundamental rules to achieve success. I believe everything is art, but everything is equally a science as well.

[ nods in agreement, but-- ]

Sure. But at the basics, every equally broad subjects can claim as much. [ pretty much amounting to saying 'everything is everything'. ] Which is why we talk in specifics. Like shading.

Sure, but shading comes from the light hitting your body, right? And light has a scientific basis behind it, as well as a person's body structure that will contour a frame in a very specific way. Even in art you have to take classes to learn about the human body, right? I remember having to learn about every single bone and muscle and why they can twist and turn in certain ways... [ trails off briefly so he can concentrate on fixing one part. after that's done: ] It was hard, but also quite fascinating. Likewise when being taught about other specifics when I decided to go into the fashion industry. When learning about drapery, I had to be aware of why it was draping a certain way. Fabrics have different weights, which in turn designates exactly where it should fall in certain places. I also had to learn how the fabrics were made, and the science behind getting certain colors if they weren't natural.

[ when he finishes he beams down at the sketchbook, turning his attention back to nick. lifts the sketchbook to hand it over. ]

What I initially meant was that art is a science in its own way, and we can view science as being as artistic and beautiful that we feels so inspired to create something from it. If anything, I admire science and the creation of humankind every time I create something new. Life is my greatest muse of all.

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