recolle contact

[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

[goen]

Mind if I do some work here today?

[ He's already making his way in as if Koutarou's already said yes though... He has a sketchbook underarm, as well as some Copic markers. ]

[wordcarvings]

[ As if he needs to ask. ]

No, of course I don't mind, you know that.

[ It's not like he needs to ask. ]

There's some karaage in the fridge in case you're hungry.

[goen]

Really?!

[ Karaage, karaage ♪~

Yato sings a karaage song on the way to the fridge and nabs said food immediately. As if he would pass up on free food.

He settles in at a table near Koutarou and flips his thick sketchbook open. Eraser on his right and karaage on his left, he twirls his pencil up before setting graphite to paper. The busy skitch skitch of Yato's drawing begins to cut through the atelier. ]

By the way, did you make a wish at the Tanabata tree?

[wordcarvings]

Yup.

[ And Yato knows where he can find plates and cutlery and glasses and things to drink and sauces and spices if he wants any of those.

Koutarou returns to his work, but glances over at Yato at the question. ]

Ah...Yes. I suppose I did.

[goen]

Thought so! I recognized your handwriting. So what's that about?

[ It's honesty hour with Yato... ]

[wordcarvings]

Ah....of course you did...

[ He should have written with his other hand. ]

What that's about? Nothing really.

[ It's...a weird topic that he has not really talked about...because he doesn't understand it and don't really want to talk about it... ]

[goen]

[ To be fair, most people are polite enough to keep the wishes they're not supposed to be reading to themselves. ]

C'mon, don't be like that. Talking stuff out will help organize your thoughts.

[wordcarvings]

[ He shakes his head as he dips his brush in the red paint. ]

It's just, well, the things I've been seeing, and, um, changes that may prove they could make some sense of it but make other things confusing...

[goen]

[ Yato too continues to sketch. Who needs eye contact!! ]

Changes? Are you getting cool new powers or something?

[wordcarvings]

I wouldn’t call them cool... I heal. Smaller things. If I drink ink. And, [ he glances at the veins at the back of his hand. ] my blood has turned completely turned to ink.

[goen]

[ So that's... weird. It gets Yato to glance over at Koutarou, at least. ]

Is it affecting your health?

[wordcarvings]

[ Nobody thinks it’s weirder than Koutarou himself. ]

No, not this far at least. It just...is, like there’s no actual difference.

[goen]

Then it's strange, but not really a bad thing, is it? ... Though drinking ink must get expensive. Better try to avoid getting hurt.

[wordcarvings]

Yeah, I better avoid that. But it’s like, I don’t know why I have this, or what that...makes me.

[goen]

It makes you an artist down to your core! Kinda poetic. But no matter what, you're still Koutarou. What else would you be?

[wordcarvings]

Does it? Is it? [ If he wasn't pretty sure the encounter would go badly, he would suggest that Yato talk about poetic things with Togusa. ] I don't know but it's, strange and surrealistic. Very strange and surrealistic.