artecuore-blog

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maskslain:

She was, by no means, innocently. Her hands were stained. She’d never be free of it. Never free from the sins that weighed her down. But… she was equally weighed down upon by her guilt. Her own self hatred. She knew there was nothing that made her better or more human. But this? He was far too gone.

“Fine art?” she repeated, her tone cold. Disgust was evident in her voice, in her posture. She knew he was circling her. She didn’t need to follow his movements. She wouldn’t give off the appearance of a frightened lamb. She wasn’t just a girl.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Maki demanded, but it was rhetorical. By words alone, she had an idea of what he wanted. What he wanted from her. “Fuck off,” she snarled venomously. No. She’d never play along with something so inhumane. She’d sooner die than go against her morals. “I’m not interested.”

He was far gone. There was no coming back from where he was. A person like him—an ego-maniacal serial killer who murdered for the purpose of his ART…to her, he was the most reprehensible of beings. To most, he was inexcusable. But such CRITIQUES wouldn’t stop him. No, it only further infuriated him, made him reflect on how wrong they were, how they did not see his vision.

The utter disgust in her voice was obvious…it was plain to see with his eye—he halted his gait, irritation evident in his expression, in his own voice. How dare she have the nerve to brush-off his request? He didn’t ask that of just ANYONE. No, in fact…it was a rarity. To be so coldly rejected, just as he’d been by the world before—this girl…was beginning to annoy him.

“What am I talking about,” He repeated back, though she clearly wasn’t questioning. This brunette wasn’t the average girl. If she was, he wouldn’t have bothered to circle her so threateningly…wouldn’t have troubled himself to speak with her like this—no, he’d have MADE her art. “You ask what am I doing, and yet you claim you are not interested. Well, even if you are not—I am. I sense no fear from you…obviously you are not the ordinary girl.”

Holding his knife, he ran his finger-tips along the sides. “I’m beginning to get the feeling you’re not appreciating the art…”

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withoutalignment:

The moment Kokichi heard the man start to move, he pivoted to face him, putting his back to the wall. He definitely didn’t want this guy behind him, or able to approach him from any angle but where Kokichi could see him.

Yeah, this guy… was the type Kokichi hated dealing with most. He didn’t want to fight if he didn’t have to – too much risk that he’d lose – so he’d try a different angle of approach.

“Wow, mister, you’re really amazing! I’ve never met anyone who could pass my test so beautifully before! I’m sorry, those were allllllllll lies~!” Kokichi let his face shift as if letting down a mask to show a face as devoid as sanity and rationality as the one this man was showing him. His eyes shimmered with admiration and awe. 

“It was soooo hard to say all those nasty things to you!” Kokichi lamented. “But I can’t just express my real feelings to any average schmuck, you know? If petty, ignorant, empty words like that were enough to make them capitulate, they’re not worth my time, right? I know it’s naughty of me to test someone with so much skill, but I just hate wasting my time, and this is the only way I know how to sort the real pearls from the glass. I probably should’ve known the moment I laid eyes on your gallery, but I’m not nearly well-versed enough in art yet!”

Tucking his arms behind his back, Kokichi leaned his torso forward to gaze rapturously up at the man through his eyelashes. “I know I’m probably not worth your time, buuuut I’d love it if you could teach me! Or at least tell me a little about the works in this gallery? I want to know all about them!”

If this guy bought all that - and why shouldn’t he? Kokichi was the best liar he knew! - then Kokichi would string him along until the guy either let him leave, or he saw an opportunity to escape.

His back up against the wall was exactly what Stefano wanted—little did the artist know that it was what Ouma wanted, as well. Nevertheless, he needed to have a feeling of complete control. The constant berating, remarks, and INSULTS directed towards his creations…was beginning to take its toll on his already fragile psyche.

But, could that be reversed with a bit of sweet talk? The eyes that previously depicted disgust, hints of irritation…now shone with what appeared to be esteem and regard. Two things that Stefano required—respect and attention from the CALLOW masses. It seemed he was getting both right now. However, it was easy to fake such…words. To claim them, but to genuinely mean it? Did he? After all, the artist was guilty of doing both in his life-time. He’d...pandered to his critics before, said many words he didn’t actually think. This…could be much the same.

And yet, he was buying it. Ouma was a great liar. Of course he was.

Stefano backed up a bit, crossing his arms. The Supreme Leader could read him like a book…to deal with someone self-obsessed, a person who was hopelessly narcissistic…the best way to talk your way out of a situation was to get inside their head. “You’re most definitely not well-versed in the arts yet, but…I don’t mind spending my time instructing you on my works. Who better to teach someone like yourself than an artist you revere?”

If he was interested, he should’ve said so earlier—but, still, Stefano was taking the bait…hook, line, and sinker. He was desperate to talk about his ART, to have someone appreciate his WORK. He’d been wanting this for all of his life. Walking closer towards one of his more recent works, but—refusing to take his eyes off of the small male, he made a signal with his hands for Ouma to walk over.

“This one...is quickly becoming one of my personal favorites. Art evokes emotions—deep, personal sentiments that can be varying for everyone…” He continues to keep his eyes on the Supreme Leader, trying to read his expression. What does he feel from his ART? What emotions does his ART give him? Is what he said…the absolute TRUTH? He cannot afford EMPTY words. “…What do you think?”

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茜

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withoutalignment:

Another conniption it was. Well, Kokichi should never have expected a guy who did shit like this to be capable of conversation and rational thought. 

So he pretended to fall asleep, and made the loudest, most obnoxious snoring sound he could, before pretending to wake up.

“Oh… were you still talking? Sorry, I must’ve gotten too bored to stay awake.” He’d keep watch on this place until this weirdo left, and then burn it down or blow it up, maybe. “Well, I’m done. See ya!”

Careful not to lower his guard or give the pervert a good opening to attack, Kokichi trotted to the door.

Well, what else could he expect from an egomaniacal serial killer that was obsessed with high-praise for his creations? He lived for his works of art. He lived for the high of it, the thrill—and outdoing himself every time. But when he didn’t get the reception he SHOULD have? That was the equivalent to the end of the WORLD for him.

Swallowing loudly, attempting to keep it in check as he glared with utter contempt at the small male who feigned sleep, he sneered. “You AFFRONT me, my art, and then plan to leave—like a thief in the night?”

Like he would just let him? He’d been horribly slighted. If the Supreme Leader thought that Stefano was going to just let him go, just like THAT, then he was wrong. Speed-walking toward the door, his glare remained—his tone of voice, going from manic to disconcertingly unruffled. “You cannot leave. Or rather…I shall not allow you to leave. Why would you wish to leave this place now, surrounded by beauty and virtuosity? Perhaps you, too, can become ART.”

[artecuore-blog]

@ke02152(Twitter)

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withoutalignment:

“Awww, this is so disappointing.” Kokichi heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I thought I could have some fun playing with you, but… you’re too immature, even for an immature kid like me. Boooooring.” 

Kokichi didn’t think this guy was capable of logic or rationality, but what the hell, might as well give it a try, since he was already here. At the very least, maybe he’d give this sicko another conniption. 

“When you get all worked up like that, you know it makes you sound like a total amateur, right?” Kokichi scolded him. “Artists get flak from uneducated people who don’t get their work all the time. Pros are used to it. Only a total amateur would lose their cool over a couple of half-assed insults from a complete stranger. If you really think this kind of gross, lazy art is defensible, learn how to actually defend it! Bitching at me isn’t going to change my mind.”

Criticism of any kind was something Stefano had a difficult time accepting—or rather, it was more accurate to say he couldn’t receive criticism. Taking any comment as a personal attack on his creative visions, it made him increasingly angry, every word hitting his self-esteem and sense of self-worth…his ART, his BEAUTIFUL works of ART. This philistine taunted him, calling him an amateur? If he weren’t so absurdly worked up, he’d laugh.

“You are attempting to alter my ideas, my exquisite works of art, the picturesque visions I capture with my camera,” It was so obvious…after all, even if it was only for that one second—he’d seen the look on the small male’s face. The look of utter disgust at his creations…and that one second was all he needed. “Gross and Lazy? I continue to outdo myself with each work of art I create…art created with the materials of flesh and blood—there are no such better resources to work with. Nothing else can satisfy my creativity. A pathetic Neanderthal like yourself is incapable of having such an ingenious mind.”

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@maskslain should smile for the camera!

“I would generally never suggest something of this nature.” He walked circles around the brunette, waving a serrated knife in his hands as if it were some type of non-threatening object. However, in order to create the most beautiful ‘art’ in his mind…it would need to be at the immediate time of death. This girl, if she were an ASSASSIN…and he doubted she’d admit to such a thing right away…then how about his proposal? 

“What do you say to a collaborative effort? I’m more of a lone wolf—so to speak—in the world of fine art. But one exception may be acceptable, if you’re willing to make yourself a medium for the greater good of SPLENDOR.”

The way he spoke, with vim and vigor—with excitement and passion…and yet, still, there was hesitance in his offer. He didn’t know this girl. He didn’t know who she was. All he knew…was far too LITTLE. Stefano was reluctant to go in believing she would accept the generous offer of his…after all, he’d been snubbed before. He merely wanted to USE her for the purpose of his ART.

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withoutalignment:

Kokichi was well-practiced at putting on a mask and concealing his true feelings, but… with what was in front of him, his disgust must have shown through, if only for a moment. But in his defense, he’d never seen gruesome murder romanticized like this before.

But he was too good a liar to let the mask fail for more than a split second. And then, he was the supreme leader of evil.

“You should try a little harder to keep an open mind, yourself,” Kokichi sneered. “I mean, this is so tacky. Did you even try to be creative, or did you just tie corpse bits together, throw some blood around, snap a few pics, and call it a day? You sure you don’t wanna put a line of urinals on the wall, too?”

The number one rule when dealing with an artist like him…never insult his art. It was just for a mere second, but he could always tell when a person showed any type of disdain for his work. Self-conscious, that’s what he was. For a person who did such horrendous acts, he certainly cared quite a bit for what people thought of his art.

“Tie corpse bits together? Throw some blood around? Snap a FEW pics?” He repeated the small male’s words, with as much indignation that a person could create. How dare he insult his hard-work. How dare he assume to know anything about art. “You assume to know anything about creating works of ART?”

He’d dealt with critics before, the uneducated masses, as he called them. This one was no different, evidently. How infuriating. “You do not see my vision, and so instead you turn to infantile and imprudent words to INSULT me?” What was there not to understand with his art? It was, to him, beautiful. Capturing a person’s final moments…was what art was all about. “A person who knows NOTHING of art has a lot of nerve opening his mouth.”

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@withoutalignment must appreciate the art!

“I don’t see why you would come to the gallery if you’re not willing to have an open mind,” Stefano Valentini was not a happy camper. If there was one thing he didn’t like—and really, there were many things he found he wasn’t fond of—but ‘philistines’ were at the top of that list. It would seem he came into contact with an insensitive neophyte right now.

The photographer wasn’t in the mood to deal with an unqualified critic. “Your ill-equipped opinion isn’t even worth the effort of listening to...”

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please like this for a starter resulting in varying length!

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YES...BUT IS IT ART? 

a brand-spankin-new independent selective stefano valentini! please give this a like or reblog if you wouldn’t mind interacting. please appreciate his art and you will be completely fine, your money back guaranteed. maybe.