Work Text:
"So, I got an art degree, right?
You'd think I could draw anything, but the truth is... People.
I can draw animals, plants, rocks, water, fire, patterns, I can even do abstract art- But for some fucking reason, I can't draw people. But him."
- Points at Deiran who's harassing a poor centaur about how many stomachs the dude has, and about how he's personally got many more -
"I can draw him.
At first I thought it had something to do with the fact that it's easier to draw stuff you either look at or like a lot, hence me not being able to draw people because they stress the retail-worker typa shit out of me, but he doesn't.
He's a dude in a jester costume who is so indifferent to the goddamned neurotypical, nonsensical, masochism-plagued socialisation rules, that I can break all of them at any given time and he wouldn't blink an eye.
I figured I couldn't be uncomfortable around someone so... uncaring about all the things I could do wrong. Someone who will try his hardest to make me laugh at any given time, just to "hear the sound of your happiness", as he put it. It's clear now that he wouldn't hurt me, and it's clear also that I'm just as down bad as he is.
But. Proportions don't care about affection on a canvas, they care about making you sell your soul to a demon - Not Viktor - to finally get the anatomy study right after hundreds of hours spent on repeating. One. Fucking. Pair. Of. Legs. In three hundred different poses, with a ton of pricey materials we never used again after that one lesson.
...I'm figuring now maybe the teacher just had a thighs kink.
If you'd care to notice though, Deiran's proportions are ever changing, so maybe the reason I can draw him, is because I can't really get his body wrong at all! But then, just after i got to this more technically realistic conclusion, the unthinkable happened:
I had a thought.
If I really can't draw people, but I can draw him, then that leads down to the actually realistic conclusion that he's not "people", but rather something else.
So, considering the reality-manipulation powers, the God-frowns-upon-this sense of humor, the shifting flesh measuraments, and the parental issues, I landed on the description of Deiran as an "Entity with a Material Manifestation", which is obviously not people. Which is why I can draw him!
But you instead are people-y, and that's why I can draw him, but can't draw you, sir."
The random ass who went "oh you are an artist so your can draw me right??":
"I just asked if you could draw me for 5 bucks, I didn't need your life story. Sheesh, what a fucking loser-"
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Bob, no more than 2 seconds later: "NO CLIENTS NUMBER #1, #2, #4! DON'T BEAT UP CLIENT #549!"