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Summary
A respected painter makes his way through the streets of Vinlés, a case of paintbrushes in one hand, a canvas held under the other. His name is Edgar, observing the world around him through a judgemental lense; scowling at those below him, and defying those above him. He encounters people of interest here and there, making some of his finest works yet.
[I'm really bad with summaries I'm sorry] This is my first fanfiction, and it's pretty much Edgar being a prick for however many chapters this will end up being. I wrote this on impulse at 4 in the morning, and I find that quite neat.
