Bill Cipher wipes off the sweat off his shape and takes a step back to look at their progress. The triangle marvels on his unfinished painting of his lord, his muse. It was getting along well, just a few more hours of rendering left and it's good to go!
He studies the facial features painted of Ford, something no Euclidean can even begin to comprehend. A separate eye and mouth, a 'nose', and other orifices he can't bother to recall at the moment as he stares and stares.
...
An impulsive urge brings him closer to the canvas. Bill looks left, right, then up for extra measure. Good enough, his studio is clear of any shape or 3 dimensional beings in sight. He silently curses at no one in particular before bringing his eyelips close to the canvas.
Bill kisses the painting of his beloved muse. Just a small peck.
He instantly regrets doing so, scolding himself at how stupid of a decision that was. Why in the flat lands of Euclydia did he do that?! Sometimes impulsive thoughts leads you to the weirdest places. Bill closes his eyes, exhales, and—
Oh no.
—
"Pixelated eyestrains..!" Bill curses to himself as he storms out of his studio. He needs to get home quickly. Before any shape sees him in such a state—
"What's the rush, painter?" Ford asks, his spiritual body floating just above him.
Bill immediately puts a hand over his eyes. "I thought you had some business to do?!"
"Yes, I was busy but I got it down quick. I hope you're not questioning my efficiency to get tasks done."
"Of course not, I was just-"
"Put your hands down, Cipher." Ford closes some distance to poke the triangle's side. "You can't fool a god. We both know you're not the shy type."
Bill hesitates. He can make a run for it and come up with an explanation later. Maybe he can excuse himself, say he has pink eye and he doesn't want to risk infecting his muse. Who was he kidding? Gods probably don't even get diseases! Possible excuses pile up Bill's little head but he ends up sighing, obeying his muse as he takes his hands off his face. Ford holds back a snort.
"Why do you have paint on your eyelids..?"
The triangle just stares at him with a deadpan expression.
"Oh Cipher, did you accidentally eat paint again?"
"How do you.. Uh- Yes I did. You got me there, Muse!" Bill awkwardly chuckles, not very convincing but it was enough to make Ford chuckle himself.
Bill Cipher wipes off the sweat off his shape and takes a step back to look at their progress. The triangle marvels on his unfinished painting of his lord, his muse. It was getting along well, just a few more hours of rendering left and it's good to go!
He studies the facial features painted of Ford, something no Euclidean can even begin to comprehend. A separate eye and mouth, a 'nose', and other orifices he can't bother to recall at the moment as he stares and stares.
...
An impulsive urge brings him closer to the canvas. Bill looks left, right, then up for extra measure. Good enough, his studio is clear of any shape or 3 dimensional beings in sight. He silently curses at no one in particular before bringing his eyelips close to the canvas.
Bill kisses the painting of his beloved muse. Just a small peck.
He instantly regrets doing so, scolding himself at how stupid of a decision that was. Why in the flat lands of Euclydia did he do that?! Sometimes impulsive thoughts leads you to the weirdest places. Bill closes his eyes, exhales, and—
Oh no.
—
"Pixelated eyestrains..!" Bill curses to himself as he storms out of his studio. He needs to get home quickly. Before any shape sees him in such a state—
"What's the rush, painter?" Ford asks, his spiritual body floating just above him.
Bill immediately puts a hand over his eyes. "I thought you had some business to do?!"
"Yes, I was busy but I got it down quick. I hope you're not questioning my efficiency to get tasks done."
"Of course not, I was just-"
"Put your hands down, Cipher." Ford closes some distance to poke the triangle's side. "You can't fool a god. We both know you're not the shy type."
Bill hesitates. He can make a run for it and come up with an explanation later. Maybe he can excuse himself, say he has pink eye and he doesn't want to risk infecting his muse. Who was he kidding? Gods probably don't even get diseases! Possible excuses pile up Bill's little head but he ends up sighing, obeying his muse as he takes his hands off his face. Ford holds back a snort.
"Why do you have paint on your eyelids..?"
The triangle just stares at him with a deadpan expression.
"Oh Cipher, did you accidentally eat paint again?"
"How do you.. Uh- Yes I did. You got me there, Muse!" Bill awkwardly chuckles, not very convincing but it was enough to make Ford chuckle himself.
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