Encre (Ink) is a French painter. He only speaks French, buuut since I have barely any fluency in French and only know like, two words, I will be using English (except for a couple of phrases. Ill put translations based on google translate ). He is i...
"Back then... I loved art. And loved to watch artists make paintings. So, I decided I was going to start to create things myself. I made necklaces, toys, and little puppets made of wood and strings. Until... my father came along to destroy them.. He called it a waste of time.. I felt sad that I couldnt create anything anymore.."
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"...Until one day...
when I met you."
"You were just a boy then... I dont know if you remember this, but, I found you all alone in the woods. I asked if you were lost, but you responded,
'Can I make a portrait of you, Mr.?'
I grew silent for a minute, recalling the time when I was a crafty young boy like you.. Of course, I didnt want you to lose inspiration too, so I said yes. You were a remarkable painter back then... and you still are."
Fallacy smiled slightly. "Does that answer your question?"
Encre nodded, he was blushing more than ever.. This answered a lot of his questions. "I remember that day..." He said. "I never knew that you were him.. until now." Encre looked up at Fallacy. "Heh... well, now do." Fallacy said, looking back down at Encre with a slight blush on his face. Encre got closer to him. "Thank you for telling me, Monsieur.." Fallacy blushed harder. "Your welcome.." Soon after, Encre slowly drifted off to sleep.
//Im just gonna place this right here-
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because jUST LOOK AT HIS ADORABLE FACE AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH- ~Admin Julia//
