☆ @gothsic ESTABLISHED FIRST CONTACT.
❝ DO YOU -- make these ? ❞
PERHAPS THE question comes across as entirely unnecessary -- it’s rather obvious, isn’t it, with the strewn inks and pencils and papers all cluttered into Jonathan’s cramped excuse of a studio, but it’s difficult to parse his words into things a bit more elegant, with more nuance. He doesn’t trust his human language abilities quiet yet; adequate eloquence will come with time for his translator implant to adjust. Mismatched irises rove over the strewn artwork before him, delicate gloved hands carefully taking up the edges of paper swathed in laminate -- original inks, one day they’ll be quite pricey, really, because Mr. Vastielle is destined to become a cult-classic. There’s a nervous little laugh, a quiet, shy smile as he carefully sets aside one sheet and withdraws another, index finger tracing the swirling black lines, black ink voids and little tumultuous crosshatchings.
❝ I’M SORRY. I know that you drew these. I meant to ask you -- ah, I think ... how you make these, ❞ he remedies softly. Another paper to the pile, another withdrawn from the portfolio; he could pour over these for hours, he could stare at these strange drawings until his eyes rotted from his skull. They fascinate him. They serve no purpose, and yet, they exist, made manifest by a careful hand and endless diligence -- what makes them different than the drawings he is used to, architectural blueprints, diagrams of anatomy, maps of the stars ? ❝ Are these things real ? Did you ... invent them with your mind ? ❞ The visitor peers up at him -- 683′s eyes are quick to avert, downcast, nervous, timid. He hunches his shoulders and hides behind his curtain of long, red hair, some frail fallen star curled up on the filthy carpet of Jonathan’s bungalow. There has to be a better word; he sets the sheet aside, withdrawing another, and his thumb traces over a graphite drawing of another human on a post it note, hair tangled into a little knot, funny little lenses over her face much like those of his ever gracious host. ❝ Did you imagine these people ? These places ? ❞