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The stink of alcohol markers and the sound of pencil lead moving against paper fill the air of the room currently holding two specimens. Anywhere else, they are a young spherite and young groundling, but in this room, they are teacher and student. Seated on the floor in the common area, Rudo and Remlin are pertaining in the upmost sophisticated conversation.
“Okay, so like I said, when sketching a person, a good way to start is by drawing some boxes to represent the mass” Remlin said easily as the flow of this process came to them like second nature, “Some people often use circles too, but I prefer boxes” having already placed said boxes meant to represent the head, torso, and pelvis, “We’ll start off easy and just draw someone with their hands on their hips.”
“Alright, boxes, yup got it.” Mumbled Rudo hunched over his paper gripping his pencil in a tight fist seemingly having an internal battle with himself, using the heat of his scowl to hopefully will his left hand to stop shaking. Dark bold uncertain lines fill the paper as he attempts to draw some circles, contradicting his own words. Sweat accumulating and cascading down his big ass head as he navigates his way around the page with the grace of a trashbeast inside a China shop.
“Next, I use gesture lines to make the pose look a lot more alive” chirped the little redhead as they continued scribbling away, too entrenched in their enjoyable little ritual to realize the troubled freak who may as well be having an aneurysm sitting right next to them.
“Movements, lines, alive, mhmm.” The sound muffled by his clenched teeth. A look at his paper would show he traded his tactic of slow heavy-handed uncertain lines for a brand-new technique most beginner artist often find themselves familiar with— “Chicken Scratching”
By the power of a sixth sense,
or perhaps the voices of the thousands of artists who came before Remlin yelling out their grievances,
or maybe just the potential medical emergency that is Rudo attempting to make art,
Remlin quickly intervened, turning to their right to place a firm grip on their friend's shoulder in an attempt to prevent him from destroying his pencil and his motivation for ever improving at art, “Woah! Chill out, dude. This is supposed’ to be fun y’know.” Remlin squeaked out as they released his arms from their hold. Rudo forces his body to relax, his face still slightly holding on to his usual scowl as he airs out his grievances to the young reincarnation of Leonardo Da Vinci sitting right in front of him, “How the hell do you even do this, I can't even get a single line down without feeling like I'm gonna shit myself!”
‘Hm, odd choice of words but I get it.’ The talented artist thinks to themself.
“We’re practically the same age and yet you’re already leagues ahead of me!” His mouth flapping open similar to that of a fish, as he continued while frantically waved his arms in the air. As he continues with his spiel, Remlin face begins to scrunch as well, although not with frustration but rather the exact opposite. Eyes squeezed tightly shut to avoid making direct eye contact in fear of letting the facade of nonchalance slip, teeth clenching their bottom lip as they desperately try to withhold the cocky smile trying to take over their face. Taking a deep breath in, they push aside their giddiness and take this opportunity to do what any good mentor would do.
‘Build Confidence!’ sings the tiny internal Remlin, excited to be on the latter end of this relationship, used to being the student when Gob was alive, and now being able to showcase the skills they learned under their former teacher.
Draping their right arm over the boy's shoulder in a side hug “Oh Rudo, don't you worry your big ol’ head!” the artist stated as they pat their students head in a way they believed was comforting when in actuality came off slightly condescending, although clearly not realizing as they kept on with their “motivational” speech, despite the glare Rudo sent his teacher “Nobody starts off perfect, it takes time to build up skill, if you just keep practicing, soon enough you’ll develop your own style!” Ending their speech with such a wide smile, it was obvious his friend truly believed what they were saying. Their energy was so infectious it was easy to forget the condescending manner and his tantrum from earlier. This speech infact may have moved him a little too much, as he began shaking and a....? Smile? Scowl? The potential aneurysm from earlier? Whatever it was began to take over his face.
“Goddamnit, you’re right! I’m gonna practice so hard you’ll all drown in it!” He shouts as he heads to the door with his pencil and paper in hand, before fulling exiting the room he stands in between the doorframe and turns back to face Remlin, “Drown in it!” He hollers one last time before leaving his friend alone in the room, as he dashes off to who knows where.
Not even a minute after being left alone, Bro Santa makes his appearance through the doorway placing his hand at the very top of the doorframe, “What’s gotten into him?” He asks.
No answer came as soon Guita and Dear rushed their way into the room, immediately taking the attention away as they swarm Remlin and begin bombarding them with their own nonsense, mainly Guita, going on about some new kaiju or mythological creature she’s currently fixated on. On the other hand, Dear silently yet incessantly tugs on the artists oversized T-shirt, staring the older kid down with big beaming eyes, his way of asking about Rudo.
~💟💟~
Having been two months since they last seen each other, Remlin, Guita, and Dear Santa can be found in the common area hanging out and having no responsibilities, a rare moment in the children's busy life. Dear has smushed himself in the very corner of the couch cushion, his attention on a small pink paper crane, as he fidgets with the little origami animal, he chews on his Vital Instrument ‘Centralian’ a slight bad habit he’ll have to grow out of, if he doesn't want to end up with pacifier teeth in the future. On the floor sitting in front of him, Guita and Remlin, the latter who originally made the paper crane for him, are intermingling in their own activities. Guita, who’s currently setting up a story for all their little origami friends, goes off on a list of potential names for the new origami animal Remlin is currently making, a frog!
“Okay, so I'm the dinosaur, Dears the crane, Rudo's the crab, and you’re the froggy!” The hyperactive girl squeals as she places the first three animals in her handmade paper mache background depicting a jungle. Some other plastic toy animals are scattered around the table some originating possibly from a kid's meal, others that potentially came in a pack sold at the grocery store, the rest from some miscellaneous boxes scattered around the room.
“Why is Dear the crane?” Questions Remlin, taking the final steps to complete their orange paper frog, “I don’ know” answers the onesie covered girl not even bothering to look up from her paper animals, “He just sorta reminds me of a bird”
“I guess, but when you think of crane, you think of some sophisticated animal, and Dear isn’t really what I'd call sophisticated.”
Stopping in her tracts, Guita points her head up to gaze at nothing in particular and thinks for a second, “Hm, I guess you’re right. Tamsy probably suits a crane more than anyone.”
...
“Oh! Maybe he could be the cockatiel!’ Abruptly shouted the small kaiju. Remlin looked at her as though she had just said she can't stand kaiju's, “What the hells a cockatiel?”
“They used to be these little birds that people kept as pets” Guita then began to lore drop all she knew about these little birds, “They’re these small yellow parrots with red cheeks and a tuft of hair sticking up from their head and they’re really loud and annoying but they’re also really good at singing and did y’know that birds were descendants of dinosa—” Before her babbling could venture off into dinosaurs, the conversation is interrupted by a loud slam of the door opening as Rudo makes his way inside panting.
“You guys! You guys! Oh my god you guys!”
“What big head?” responds Guita
“I was just—”
“:)"
“Hm.” The young spherite decided to let it slide as he continues with his original topic, “I did exactly as you said Remlin and have been practicing every day!” He’s taken up a smug pose with his arms crossed over his chest. Sitting perched in between is a small sketchbook with the cover being decorated with all sorts of stickers. Remlin lights up at that. Could it be? Had their words really inspired Rudo enough to practice honing his skills. The young teacher feels themself almost tearing up at the knowledge of their efforts being worth it, before they can get all emotional, they suck their snot back and ask, “Can we see?”
“Check it.”
...
“It”
“is”
“Fantastic!”
“Really!?” Rudo stutters, having had to hype himself up on the way here, shocked to see his false confidence had been believable. “Hell yeah dude, this is sick!” shouted Remlin as they bounced up and down on the tip of their toes elated at the amount of progress Rudo has made. Guita and Dear soon follow, huddling around Rudo and his masterpiece, “Woah—Rudo did you draw this? Cool!” Guita reaches out to grab ahold of the sketchbook, holding it up high as she admires the work of art looking back at her. Dear holds onto Rudo's trousers as he too admires, what to him seems like an art piece worthy of being displayed in a museum. He slightly turns his head to face Rudo showing clear adoration for the older boy.
“Hey Rudo! You think you can show us how ya drew this? I wanna draw like this too!” Guita pleads. “Yeah! Show us, I wanna see what your process looks like!” Remlin adds curious to see what skills Rudo had picked up from their lessons. “Yeah! Teach us! Teach us!” Guita began chanting impatiently to learn how this artistry came to be.
“Uh, yeah! Okay I can do that!” Rudos voiced nervously, yet his body language seemed lax secretly just as excited as his friends to showcase his new abilities.
“Yeaahhh!” “Let’s go dude!” “Hmm” His friends all exclaim quickly, seating themselves at the table intently listening as Rudo begins his teachings. Time seemed to slip by fast as the children began focusing on their paper. Pens, pencils, markers, and a bunch of erasure shavings quickly began covering the table as the group of friends chatter away talking about nothing in particular.
~💟💟~
Heavy sneakers kick against the brown n’ black checkered tile that makes up the flooring of the Cleaners HQ hallway, letting out a whinny screech each step the man takes. The wifebeater underneath Bro Santa’s baggy button up uniform top is currently caked with sweat. Now, living in the Headquarters has its perks, food, shelter, plumbing, not to mention, provided AC. All of that is far more than a majority of people living on the ground could ever hope to have, so he doesn't mean to come off as ungrateful when he says this but—
‘Holy shit! It’s hot today’ he thinks to himself. The HQ isn’t huge by any means, but it seems certain parts of the place are harder for the cooling system to reach. The ground has always been warm place, but today's weather report indicates a heat wave is to be expected to pass over for a week. ‘No hay nada más que podemos hacer, solo seguir adelante’ silently trying to keep his spirits up. The older man is currently walking around the halls trying to locate his kids, gripping a small plastic bag filled with bar soap, tres flores hair oil, kids' hair gel, mouthwash, and some toys he spotted on his trip out to the market, a crumpled shopping list sits at the bottom of the bag. In his other hand he carries a six-pack of beers, swaying both items as he walks. Tucked away in his pocket flap is an unscratched lottery ticket and a dime he will use to scratch said lottery ticket. He whistles a tune he made up on the spot, before he finally stops at the door of the common area. Reaching for the door handle, he overhears the sound of chatter and giggling. Smiling to himself, he makes himself known before opening the door. Hes greeted with the sight of the four children sitting in front of the table. Markers and pens in hand, they quickly bring their attention to the man residing outside the door.
“Bro!” Guita sings, jumping to her feet and hurling herself towards the man, her attention quickly being stolen by the bag and case of beer he holds. She attaches herself to his side holding onto his arm, attempting to get a peek at what's inside, “What's in the bag? Are we having a party!” she looks at the man expectantly, bouncing on her tippy toes, a giddy smile planted on her face excited at the prospect of having a party for no reason. Dear having already made his way from his spot on the floor towards his father's side, he glances up at him silently asking him the same question. Bro lets out a small huff “Nah, these are just fer’ me” he laughs “Les traje algunos juguetes” holding out the bag towards her. Guita beams as soon as she hears those final words, a giddy little expression on her face as she takes the bag in her hands, hurriedly scouring the bag's contents. Dear rushes over before the hyperactive girl can hog all the toys to herself.
“Hey Bro” “Hi” the two seated at the table quietly chime in greeting the older cleaner. “Wassup homies” he returns the gesture, heading towards the couch. Plopping himself onto the couch with a loud grunt, resting his arms on the backrest of the car. He takes notice of the myriads of papers scrambled atop the table, all depicting various people. Extending his arm towards the table, he picks a page up and holds it up to his view “Remlin, did you draw this?” He raises a browbone, keeping his eyes on the drawing. On the page lies a picture of Guita terrorizing a city with fire blowing out of her mouth in a unique art style.
“Oh no! That was all Rudo!” Remlin shouts boastfully, pointing at the artist sitting beside them. Rudo not expecting to be put on the spot lets out a loud squawk “Gah!”. Bro Santa turns his gaze towards the rest of the scene in front of him before putting his full attention on the young sphererite. Rudo face begins to turn pink being subjected to the old man's gaze, his body temperature rises a tad bit, his hands feel clammy unable to hold still, he struggles to get a word out taking increasing interest towards his gloves “Uh-We’ll, I mean-”
Guita squatted down on the floor holds a stuffed animal of a lizard in her arms, on her left sits Dear is engrossed in a tiny Tetris game. The girl quickly speaks up on behalf of Rudo “Yup! Rudo's been teaching us how to draw this entire time!” She stands up prancing towards the boy and leans herself up against him placing her arm over his shoulder “Isn’t that right, buddy?” Rudo’s eyes stare widely at her before he gives his head a shake getting his thoughts together “Um yeah, I’ve been practicing these past few months, I couldn't have done it without Remlin’s help.” Rubbing the back of his neck he still avoids eye contact with the man.
He takes in the boys' behavior, obviously not used to being praised. Bro starts to feel a warm feeling weight in his chest, along with the urge to coddle the boy himself “Hey, this is pretty good, little man.” Turning the paper back to face the as he points out the drawing “You keep this up and we got a little artist on our hands.” Rudo finally looks up, he points his eye at the drawing then at Bro “Nah.” His face is still pink “Remlin’s the real artist here. I just do this as a hobby.” At these words Remlin preens, enjoying the subtle praise. They plant their fists on their hips as they puff out their chest, a smug face before speaking up “I mean- It's no big deal, I have been drawing my entire life.” They rub their upper lip, eyes facing to the side “But-You’re pretty good too, Rudo.” Ignoring the understated boast, Rudo feels his body begin to tingle, euphoric. Crimson paints his face as he rapidly shifts from his position; his sharp teeth chomp open and shut as he bellows out “Like, I said! It's just a hobby for me!” He waves his hand back and forth, unable to stay still, under the pressure from all the newfound eyes on him. While hes busy pleading his case, Dear takes this opportunity to step forward. Stepping his way towards Rudo—Waddling, more like his massive overalls make it, so he must take wide steps to avoid stepping on his own denim. Rudo, blatantly unaware of Dears' presence, continues his rant directed at Remlin. Upon seeing his demeanor, Dear gently rest a hand onto Rudo's back, setting a pace thoughtfully rubbing his tender circles on his back.
Rudo practically jumps out of his skin; his previous actions put on hold. He falters “Ah! Don't scare me like that you little punk!” He looks daggers at the boy, not appreciating the unasked comfort. If Dear takes any offense to his unreasonable scolding he doesn't show it, simply responding by beginning to pet the spherites head in favor of his back.
“Knock it off! I don’t need you patronizing me!” Rudo's shoulders hitch up in defense; his face furrowed in a frown so intense; Bro begins to worry it may get stuck that way. The cleaner intervenes “Don't sweat, Rudo.” Planting a heavy hand onto both boys' shoulders, pulling them back onto the couch “Dear was just trying to calm you down. He’s not making fun of you.” He explains. This does little to quell Rudo as he continues to subject his glare at Dear, despite both boys being squished at Bros side “Tranquilo, show me what else y’all drew.” The man gives the boy a noogie, a half assed attempt at wiping the frown on his face.
Remlin quickly bounces up toward the man, holding out a drawing “We all collaborated on this one!” Proudly displaying their masterpiece.
....
Bro Santa would like to think hes a strong man. A strong man who would do anything to encourage his kids' dreams.
But.
Something about seeing himself along with his coworkers in this... interesting for better lack of word, style. He can't help but shudder upon being shown this particular piece of work. Before he can give his feelings away, he quickly shakes his head, hopefully erasing any remnants of his true thoughts.
“It's uh-” Having a hard time finding the right words “Great. Yeah, just...keep it up.” Nodding his head, holding an uncertain smile. Letting out a convenient cough, he makes his escape “We’ll I better get this in the fridge.” He stands, pointing out the case of beer. Heading out the common area, his back turned, he waves back at the kids “See ya’ later”
The children all say their goodbyes before returning to their activities. Guita pipes up “Guys! That gives me an idea!” Hurriedly shoving a bunch of papers into her arms, she beams at the rest of her friends “We should hang all of our work on the fridge!” Unable to stay in one place, she makes her way to the door. Before leaving the room, she looks back at the room “That way everyone can admire our work!” Skipping into the hallway in a rush to the cafeteria.
“She's right!” Remlin follows, picking up their own stack of paper “Last one there is a rotten egg!” They shout, rushing to catch up with Guita, leaving the boys in the dust. The two boys in question look at each other, before shoving into the hallway, crashing into one another.
~💟💟~
A lit cigarette fills the inside of Enjins mouth with smoke, the bad habit making so that no matter how well he brushes his teeth, his breath will always carry a stink of smoke and dehydration. His shoes lightly tap against the checkered tiles; he heads in the direction of the cafeteria. Pushing the doors open, hes greeted by the sight of a few coworkers seated at certain tables, all engrossed in their own meals and conversations. Passing by he gives a few greetings, heading into the back to prepare himself a cup of coffee. Opening the kitchen doors hes greeted by the sight of their lovely secretary, Semiu, already enjoying their own cup of caffeine in front of the fridge, intently staring at something.
He greets her easily as he reaches the counter pulling out a mug from the cupboards and pouring himself a cup from the coffee maker “Good morning, Semiu” Taking a sip from the mug decorated with a cat decal at the front “Wachu’ looking at?” He steps to her side.
“Just admiring our young givers artwork.” She responds cooly “It seems they’ve taken the liberties of decorating our fridge.” Taking a final sip from her mug. “Oh yeah?” Before Enjin can finish his sentence, hes caught off guard by the work of art meant to depict his likeness.
....
He feels his eye twitch. A second time. Finally, a third. Pursing his lip into a flat line, several unfortunate feelings fight for dominance inside of him, before ultimately deciding he can't hold in anymore. He spits out.
“BWAHHAHAHHAHAHAH! Dawg, what the fuck is this!”