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[wordcarvings]

koutarou kurashiki

Let my art be the sound of my soul / Let it reminisce of the good times / Let it scribble the lines of the bad times / Let it bloom with excitement / Let my art be a representation of me / Just let it be me 

VOICE | TEXT | VIDEO | ACTION

lemon leaf (landline)

This is Takao at Lemon Leaf at [street #, Apprassage]. I apologize for not being able to take your call at the moment, but leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as I'm able to.

VOICE | ACTION

Comments

[appraiser]

[ It would probably be fine... With the memories he's gotten, the powers that came with it, Ryoji isn't fully human and doesn't need sleep to function, so why not overload himself with learning what he can?

One of those memories is what he's hoping Koutarou to help draw for him, so. Out on the porch it is, where Ryoji remains standing for the moment, eyes closed to the breeze. ]

For drawing... What would be the best way to explain it? Should I describe it all at once, or step by step as you draw?

[wordcarvings]

[ Koutarou leaves the door open so some fresh air can get into his work space. He sits down, and looks up at the young man. ]

You can describe while I draw, I think that should work.

[appraiser]

Alright.

[ The image Ryoji gets to describing is that of the Avatar of Nyx. His eyes are closed to entire time, the image appearing easily in his mind as one that follows him whenever he feels like sleeping. Black feathered wings- two pairs- that headpiece and a blank white face of a mask, a figure pulsing with energy in a bright unearthly blue this picture will have to do without. ]

[wordcarvings]

[ Resting his sketchbook against his lap and his eyes focused on the drawing and the words, he doesn't look at the boy, for now.

And that is...quite something. ]

[appraiser]

[ It sure is. Every once in a while, Ryoji opens his eyes and glances down at the page. He had said he admired being able to bring thought into reality, but seen Nyx on the page... a shiver runs down the back of his neck, and he looks away again. ]

...Like that, towering... dozens of feet tall, it looked like.

[wordcarvings]

That sounds... Like something one might not want to run into during the night.

[ Or during the day, for that matter. But encountering that in the night... ]

[appraiser]

I hope nobody runs into it at any time!

[ His laugh is a bit weak, but the act of laughing puts him at ease again, and he can smile over at Koutarou. ]

But yes, this is exactly what it looked like. One of my Retrospec memories.

[wordcarvings]

Is it as dangerous as it seems? Do you know?

[ Well, that's good. ]

[appraiser]

Mm. From what I can tell, this is what brought upon the end of the world, in that other life of mine.

[ So. Yes. ]

[wordcarvings]

The end of the world? That's terrifying.

[appraiser]

...Yeah. But there were people who stood up against it. I wonder if they won...

[wordcarvings]

It's good that they tried. Perhaps you will learn if they did, at some point?

[appraiser]

Maybe. If they did, then... That would probably be the last memory I receive. It would be the memory of my death.

[wordcarvings]

That... Is not a pleasant thought.

[appraiser]

It's not. Sorry, I didn't mean to talk about all of this. I'm grateful that you drew this for me.

[wordcarvings]

No, don't worry about it, it's fine.

[ He pulls the picture from the sketchbook and offers it to him. ]

[appraiser]

Oh- Thank you.

[ Ryoji takes the paper in his hands, staring down at it... It's an uncanny feeling, like looking at a picture of yourself in costume, dressed and masked and yet still knowing that it's you. ]

[wordcarvings]

[ He watches him in silence for a couple of moments, then shakes his head to clear it. He ended up sketching him and his expression, he realizes. ]

Are you alright?

[appraiser]

—Oh!

[ Ryoji looks up, blinking away a reverie. ]

Yes, I'm alright. I was just thinking... I guess about what it all means. How some memories are just scenes like out of a movie, to be remembered and which affect you. But aren't real. How would you feel if your memories were real? Or prophetic?

[wordcarvings]

I wonder.

[ He looks down at his hand where it grasps the pen, at the veins with dark ink in them instead of blood. ]

I don’t know, to be honest.

[appraiser]

[ Ryoji glances down when Koutarou does; his own veins are filled with blood, but it no longer flows. ]

...In either case, there's no point in worrying about it. It's too early to tell, so... Forget about what I said.

[wordcarvings]

I think it’s pretty hard to forget about it.