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(open) truth be told, none of this really matters,
Who: Edgar Valden & you!
When: Mid-late April
What: Intro (3rd floor/Art room)
When: Mid-late April
What: Intro (3rd floor/Art room)
01.) だめそうかな、ざまみろ
• Mid-April — 3rd floor
( it's some time in the mid-evening. late enough for most all of the regular students to have left the school grounds, but early enough that the chatter of transfer students' voices and rustling around still echoes through the halls. edgar, for one, isn't interested in any of that. rather than the people, it's the creatures of this place that draw his attention; namely, a little black cat, which he's learned is none too fond of human contact itself. you know what? he respects it. same, bitch.
hence why he remains pretty respectful of its desire to keep its distance. upon spotting it, resting in any room on the third floor, edgar is already prepared. with a sketchbook and a handful of charcoal in his pockets, he crouches down a good while before he manages to get close enough to spook the thing. instead, he begins tracing out a gesture with the charcoal in his hands—stained black, by the way. this obviously isn't his first attempt. and when somebody walks through the nearest doorway, spooking the poor, black cat away again? it's obviously not going to be the last. meeting their eyes with a sharp expression, his voice is absolutely dripping with contempt. )
You, is there something wrong with your eyes?
( why! would you do that!!! )
02.) 戻りたいのは あんな籠
• Late April — Art room
( or maybe you find him in his natural habitat. that's fair, he doesn't have exclusive claim to the art room, after all—as much as he may wish that he did. especially at a time like this. he'll still act like he does, though. he treats it like it's his own personal studio, and when someone enters, they may find that... compared to any other time they've passed the otherwise relatively orderly room, it's a mess. canvases with any number of colours smeared across them are scattered through the room, the wooden frames on more than a few are snapped, with the fabric of the canvas itself bending and folding unevenly.
in the center of all the mess is a young man, wearing a red cape that's covered in all manners of paint, with a palette knife in hand. he doesn't bother hiding his frustration; with a short yell, he sinks the edge of the tool through his current piece—a largely green illustration, the subject of which is quickly lost as edgar drags the knife across it, slicing it apart. naturally, it takes him a moment to notice that someone is there. once he does turn his attention to them, though, he doesn't appear to hold any embarrassment for his actions. )
What are you looking at?
no subject
no subject
( he says that, but with eyes that flicker back to the child for a moment, edgar does seem to change his course.
there's no harm in taking only a look to consider it, after all.
that said, some abhorrent smell had come from there—the clock tower—the last time he had considered the idea, and with everything that had happened, edgar had thought it best to put off such an errand. if the same remains true even now, that would mean... right, it's probably preferable to find a different view of the tree. it's lucky that a good number of the windows here seem to allow a view of it, as edgar draws to a stop in front of one. )
Hm...
no subject
[ Diona states plainly, and when Edgar stops looking out the window. Diona clamors over with her face pressing against the window. She wishes she could go outside, and in that moment her eyes flicker about the tree and the scenery outside. Rather softly and a little sad she says. ] Can... You draw us outside....
[ You know how children are, thinking little of what it means to ask someone else to draw them or impose on their time. She at least thinks, it would be fun to have something to pretend they were outside no? ]
no subject
( because, whether the gang wants to hand in the body or not, edgar isn't keeping up with their plans, and he kind of does agree with her that it would be a favourable view to paint. speaking of which, he spares her a long look, considering her suggestion for a moment with a slow, catlike blink. his lips purse into a thin line, and he doesn't look particularly happy about it. at the same time, he doesn't give her the instant rejection that anyone else, even shezo, would have received. it may not look it—but it's a rather favourable response when he instead begins to trace out his outline.
it feels a natural thing, even despite his lack of a stand, and the difficulty of holding the canvas at an appropriately consistent angel to map out the composition he wishes to draw. regardless, his left hand draws the brush across the canvas skillfully, leaving a skeleton of a scene in its wake—though there are no two figures to be seen within it at the moment. )
no subject
Sometimes.
Even when she is excited she forgets, but in this moment she is rather in a pleasant mood. Rather then bother him she then turns around and hustles back to the art room. She hopes he wont leave yet, and when she comes back she had paper within her hands. As well as a box of colored pencils within her little cat paw purse.
Although she is a bit noisy, she doesn't bother him. Instead going to draw her own version of this - first! The first thing she tries to draw is herself, then she draws him! Diona thinks that maybe she should draw more people like Angel, or lily may, or Komaeda. However the thought of drawing everyone overwhelms her and her brain decides just for now. To draw the two of them.
She decides to use red pencils for him, and picks out orange for herself. ]