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follow the old new blog @starbooms

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Lord give me Strength 

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ya’ll aint ready for this come . . . back. 

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aestheir‌:

           ‘    oh.    ’           a …    creative exchange ?   not an idea imogen was opposed to but,  if that were going to be the case she felt bad for taking his money.    perhaps her parents were right,  after all.   too practical to be an artist.   one should have more pride in ones work    ;    demand more,    believe in it.    yet she never wanted to be considered anything akin to a swindler   -    she believed the price she’d set was fair,   to ask for more felt unbalanced. 

           then,  he mentions food.   lilac eyes widen,   her heart squeezes.   food.      ‘   ah.   ’      it’s been a while since imogen had delighted in a home - cooked meal,   months,   in fact.  ramen pots made with the lukewarm water bathroom taps could offer did not compare.   ‘   i’d   -   paint whatever you’d like for anything cooked.   uh - cooked food.  not …   anything cooked.    ’

he snorts, lips quirking in a smile. ah, someone who wasn’t the most acquainted with words. comfort.  “ alright. i’ll keep that in mind. my house isn’t too far from here ? it’s close to dinner time anyways if you’d like to uh , come over. ” which he realizes inviting a stranger right off the bat wasn’t the smartest move. he could already hear kaname fretting and yelling and being KANAME over haru’s lack of preservation. but he wanted to do something for her. to reward and give acknowledgement to the energy she used for creating. 

“ i understand if you don’t want to though. considering how . . .sudden - it is. but , ” he . . . he’s at a loss now of how to end things. 

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aestheir‌:

         ‘   repay ?  ’          she tilts her head,    still amused despite her growing confusion.   strange man that he was.   there is a curiosity as to what he had in mind,   imogen couldn’t deny.  that was less important than ensuring him she didn’t expect anything further   -   the transaction had been a success.   painting   &   money exchanged,   so   -      ‘   you’ve already paid me.   ’

“ no no , ” words. words come to him. “ not just . . . with money. i can cook ? ” why did that come off as a question. this is why he shouldn’t speak ! he was always , making things confusing. or awkward. he “ or , make you something in . . . return ? ”

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aestheir‌:

       he’s pleased.    she’s pleased that he’s pleased.    a good day all round.      ‘   you already paid me.  before you even sat down.  ’        a little ditsy of him,    but it wasn’t unpleasant. she feels the smile soften her features telling her so.      ‘   a bold move,  by the way.   usually a customer would wait until the finished product is revealed.   in case they don’t like it or the artist doesn’t deliver.   ’      had that been naivety on his part,   a kind   &   trusting heart ?   or perhaps he was simply unfamiliar with street performers.    they could be crafty   -   in more than one way ! 

      ‘   all yours,   mr. whale.   ’    without standing from her stool she picks the canvas up   &  offers it to him,    reaching to bridge the gap between them.     ‘  i doubt i’ll ever see one in real life but when a whale or an otter appears on tv or in a book,  you’ll pop into my mind.   ’    &   really,  that was why imogen loved this job.   the randomness of who you might encounter that day,    new worlds opened up to you from simple conversations,   associations birthed from interactions like this one.    whenever she listened to whalesong to fall asleep,   she’d think of the gentle giant with kind eyes who sat crumpled in on himself   ;   but then shone like the sun at a simple picture.    a good memory.

“ thank you, ” soft laughter from the name - mr. whale - makes his insides warm. he’ll have to show kaname later. and ask for help to find a place deserving of the photo. “ ah . . . that. that makes sense. i think i’ll like it though. ”  she had taken such care and time into the piece. how could it be anything other than wonderful ? when attention and detail were poured into it ? 

he nods, still holding onto the picture with fierce protection. with soft, but utter adoration for having something that is his. her words are processed later. and he, though deadpan, feels all sorts of gratitude and excitement. “i appreciate that,” he bows in thanks. and then frowns, raising his head. 

“please, let me repay you.”

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aestheir‌:

            watching the series of expressions unfold on his face was endearing,   but also a little amusing.     such a whale of a man to be tempered by a simple look  -    she smiles,   eyes settling back on the canvas to free him from the discomfort of her gaze.      ‘    i don’t know much about otters.  i’ll need to fix that.    ’    a trip to the library was in order.   a haven of information but,   more importantly,   entirely free:   a key factor for a penniless drifter.    

           ‘   it’s done.   ’      she sets pencil down upon her easel   &    with a foot tilting one wooden leg of it she turns her artwork round for him to see.    well,  his artwork,  really.   bought   &   paid for.     ‘  you make a charming whale.   ’       the form of a blue whale     /    large,   swooping curves lead down to a great tail fin.    kind,  dark eyes mirroring his own.    the colouring was unique,   a soft white against the blue of the ocean,   speckled with blues  &  greys.     the expression,   a gentle smile as it looks up to the surface of the water,   it’s destination,   to be bathed in sunlight   &   take a great breath.      ‘   this is my first time drawing one,   i hope i did them justice.   ’

haru’s eyebrow slightly raises at that . he didn’t expect her interest to go so deep as to seek more knowledge . . . that was nice. maybe they could talk about it later. haru only knew so much. so it would be, interesting, to have a conversation about otters with her once she knew more. if they were to ever cross paths again. he makes a mental note to ask her on her otter progress, whenever they meet. 

he looks upon her creation with barely concealed awe. eyes slightly widening. mouth a little slack. he felt calmed, at peace. and centered. all from the picture. her brush strokes were amazing. well, to haru at least. to be able to capture the serenity of the creature haru held so dearly in his heart . . . he takes the picture. cradles it softly in his hands. 

his eyes, are warm. and his smile pulls across his face. small but colored with gratitude. “ it’s beautiful. thank you. how much do i owe you ? ”

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aestheir‌:

      ‘   yeaahhhh !!!   ’     she’s bouncing,   hands balled into fists punch the air once,  twice,  three times.   she’s excited.    ‘   i may not have a swimsuit,  but i do have water - guns.   i’ve always wanted to have a water fight at the beach …   because unlimited ammo !!   ’

“ . . . water guns you say ? ” and now the cookie has crumbled in a different shape. and the tables have SURELY turned in the direction of utter summer time madness. meg thee stallion would be proud. “ that sounds dope ! yeah let’s do it. i can also bring some water guns . we can also make water balloons ? we can have a whole WAR. ”

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“Goodbyes are only one side of the coin. You can’t say goodbye until you’ve said hello.”

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aestheir‌:

       she makes a little    aaahhh   sound,    soft   &   full of wonder.   he holds such wisdom.      ‘   smort.   ’ 

he loves a compliment. “ heh , it’s nothing. ” rubs under his nose with a sheepishly pleased smile. “ so we gonna do this ? we gonna beach it up and live our best lives ? ”

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aestheir‌:

starbooms‌   /   whale of a time

don’t fidget ( he’s fidgeting ) . he’s used to being still. and he should be used to sitting on stools. he sat on them all the time at the store. but then, he was always hidden behind a desk. so his frame wasn’t so … apparent. so exposed. he feels exposed. which is silly because letting yourself being painted in likeness required exposure. common sense. yet here haru was overthinking and hoping his face didn’t look …silly. though none of this showed on his face. a blank stare and just, a minor frown. 

he nods. because she was right. whales do have beautiful songs. “ they have bad taste, then. ” he says quietly - but with conviction. “ dp , uh , do you like whales ? ”

           ‘    i like whales.   ’       a simple answer to a simple question,   her work continues   -   though it’s evolved slightly into something more than a silly cartoon.   without her even realising strokes of her pencil branched out    /    a great blue whale stretched across her canvas,   it’s back arches as it seemingly reached to break the surface    &    touch the sky,     cradled by the current.       ‘    i’ve never thought about my own favourite,   however.   perhaps i should.   ’      for as often as she offered to draw customers favoured creature,   obediently filling requests of dogs,  cats,  foxes    (  &  now whales  ),   she’d never taken the time to consider what her own request would be.

          ‘  …   ’    imogen looks up at him for inspiration,    brows arch in thought.     ‘   otters are nice.    ’

their eyes meet, and haru’s quickly dashes his gaze back to his hands. they’re calloused, from hours of working on surfboards. making their spines smooth and ready to make love to waves. he tries not to get embarrassed, but its hard to stave off the heat pooling his cheeks. he never, really, got used to being stared at. or, really, never was so attuned to people’s direct gaze. kaname told him that people stared all the time. but haru’s head and his heart and his soul was always in another plane-a watery existence where wave meets land and stars kiss ocean. 

so now, being in this moment. being under gave. was unnerving. he twitched, and softly cursed an apology under his breath. right. back to the moment. the moment. he perks up, blinking. catching the tail end of her words. about otters. he could comment on otters. 

“ they are. they’re very . . . familial. it’s warm. ”

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aestheir‌:

              imogen looked up   &   her pencil slows momentarily,   surprised by what she saw.   in his efforts to make himself seem smaller he had made his great size that much more obvious,     in truth she hadn’t noticed just how tall he was until he’d sat in such a way.     sitting like that he looked like a child despite broad shoulders    &    long limbs.       

              ‘    their songs are beautiful,    ’      her attention returns to her work,   though mind still lingers on the many admirable qualities of whales.     ‘   i wish i could sing like that.   ’     a beat of silence passes,   in which time a smile appears on her lips.    ‘   my neighbours wouldn’t be pleased,  though.   ’

don’t fidget ( he’s fidgeting ) . he’s used to being still. and he should be used to sitting on stools. he sat on them all the time at the store. but then, he was always hidden behind a desk. so his frame wasn’t so . . . apparent. so exposed. he feels exposed. which is silly because letting yourself being painted in likeness required exposure. common sense. yet here haru was overthinking and hoping his face didn’t look . . .silly. though none of this showed on his face. a blank stare and just, a minor frown. 

he nods. because she was right. whales do have beautiful songs. “ they have bad taste, then. ” he says quietly - but with conviction. “ dp , uh , do you like whales ? ”

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aestheir‌:

            ‘      in your most natural form ?    wouldn’t that mean NAKEDNESS ?   the ocean   &    i haven’t even had our   FIRST   kiss yet,   it’s skipping so many vital bases !    ’

“ sometimes you just gotta GO you know. you can kiss the ocean AND be naked at the same time. GALAXY BRAIN THOUGHTS. ”

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aestheir‌:

         ‘   is it unacceptable if i just dash into the ocean with all my clothes on ?   i’m ready, willing,   &  unfortunately i don’t own a bathing suit.   ’

“ the ocean is meant to be felt in your most natural form. that means clothes on ? then clothes ON. we soak up all those OCEAN KISSES , BABY ! ”

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     what’s up mtv  &   welcome to another poor choice, casa de brie.    so this is a very laidback multi for some ocs i’m playing around with,   just a chill place for me to come  &  develop them while my life remains a hectic shitshow.   if you could, please    LIKE   &    REBLOG   this post so i know you’re dtf    ( down to fight )   &  i’ll give you a follow   &   write you a starter.  

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aestheir‌:

         she pockets the note with a courteous nod,    pointing at the stool in front of her with the tip of her pencil.      ‘   please sit,  mr. whale.  ’     with a gentle grip on her sketchpad,   pencil hits paper  &   she’s off  !     the image of this particular stranger as a whale already filling her minds eye …     ‘   why whale ?    ’

does as he’s told , sitting on the stool . feeling a little awkward because his large frame. so he shifts a bit until he ends up a little hunched over , legs spread , hands gripping onto the bottom of the seat stool . he makes himself stone still . “ they’re gentle giants . old souls coasting through the ocean . they’re cool. ”

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aestheir‌:

@starbooms    for haru  !! 

           ‘    portrait …     for five dollars ?    i can sketch you as your favourite animal,  if you want.    ’

that peaks his interest ! cue haru pulling out his money and handing it over . “ . . . a whale , please. ”