Everin Vastman is normal. Almost. He can see things others can't. Having this ability often distracts him from reality, slowly pulling him into the Blank. But he doesnt mind. He enjoys going there to play with the spirits, ghouls, ghost, vampires an...
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'Yep, just as I expected.' I thought as the rain began to fall on the unfinished wooden steps of my apartment. I groaned and slipped on my orange pastel colored boots instead of my dark red Vans. I grabbed my glasses and stood infront of the vertical, circle mirror placed along my banana colored bedroom wall and inspected myself. My hair was messy , I didn't care enough to do it, my shirt was half tucked into my black jean shorts which reached my knees, covered in bandaids from last weeks newest stupid stunts, my only non- dingy pair of knee socks slithering into the insides of my boots. I gave myself and approving smile and grabbed my old umberella. What a wonderfully fucked up day that's in progress.
Searching the rain plastered streets with my feet, I eventually arrived at the art gallery, Blank Pages, my bestfriend, Goliath, worked in. Despite his name, his is actually fucking huge. He towers at a amazing six foot seven, but has the softest smile you'll ever see. I pushed open the strangely carved, wooden door and inhaled the galleries scent of hopomian sage.
The smell filled my lungs as I took a deep breath, closing my umbrella, I set it down behind the door and led my nosey little eyes into the creation rooms. Yes, rooms. Each room has a specific use. Carving, smelting, sculpting, painting, music making and even demolishing. Or as they call it, "decorative recreation".
Wandering far enough, I open the silent room to find Goliath dipping a paintbrush into a strange green-ish orange color he has made. My boots tapped quietly behind him as I peer over his shoulder to look at what he's began to paint.
A sky. He's painting a sky, but... It's a face. A peaceful, resting face. He continues to keep a steady hand, even as I rest my chin on his shoulder. He was so calm and unbothered even as I blew in his ear, as if he knew I was going to do that next, he smiled.
"Decided to come visit me, huh?" He continued to paint, adding small details to the resting face, making it look even more realistic than it already did.
"Not really. My feet just kinda... led me here I guess." A soft smile rose on his tan cheeks. He tilted his head, leaning his large messy bun to the side as well.
"Really? I guess your conscious missed me then." I laughed at his snarky comment and stood. "Yeah right."
--Calm down. It's the first chapter and I'm back and less depresso <3--