Work Text:
MK was an artist. It was no secret; in fact it was one of the things he was the most proud of. His walls may have been mostly taken up by posters, but everywhere else he could put them there was small sketches, watercolor paintings, quick crayon doodles, and sticky notes with messy shapes drawn in ballpoint pen.
MK saw the world in shapes and colors. He had been since he'd started really enjoying art, when he was around 9 or 10. Those two colors from that shop would look really well together, oh, and that tree made such a wonderful shadow onto the wall across from it during sunny autumn afternoons. That model from the billboard a couple minutes away from Pigsy's had such a wonderfully dynamic pose.
To MK, Red Son was nothing short of a masterpiece. A good mix of sharp and soft angles, clothes with colors that MK had never expected to go well together but they did. The way that his hair lit up and became even more of a blazing fire than normal whenever the sun hit it just right.
Those scarred hands, littered with the history of his passions of inventing and engineering. MK could trace them with his fingers all day, studying just how they twisted and turned, the exact color and texture of each one.
His bright eyes, the right a soft purple and the left a calming, deep green, both speckled with soft accents of gold. He could stare at them for hours, watching just how the light reflects off of them, copying the exact details of his irises to memory.
Red Son was terribly pretty.