@absentialucis - noel
Wyatt’s work ethic was more of random bursts of inspiration that she immediately acted upon, and there was usually no rhyme or reason to her methods. But she got things done, and to her, that’s all that mattered. She used to go hours on end in a trance, often forgetting to eat or sleep and passing out in the middle of her studio. She glanced at the white board where she tabulated her schedule of when she needed to eat before glancing at the clock. She hooked up a little alarm system using her computer and some bluetooth speakers, just in case she lost track of time, so a loud alarm would ring when she needed to stop working. She painted out the little faces and dried them on the table. In the past hour, she had made 50 tiny masks for her stop-animation character. She was ahead of schedule for the international competition, and she was just about to paint some backgrounds before someone knocked on her door. She contemplated pretending she wasn’t home, but when she heard Noel’s voice she thought better of it. “Hellooo my beautiful, perpetually-single, big brother. How may I help you?”
