6 - Drawing 87 [video] (backdated ever so slightly)
[The video is on of its own accord again. That's certainly not uncommon, nor is what is being shown. There isn't a day that goes by when 6 isn't drawing something random. It just doesn't always wind up quite this ... startling.]
[Most of the fresh, clean paper he had collected before has been scribbled all over. The strange creatures from before, both cute and twisted, are certainly preset there. But as he moves on to another page, the happy little humming quiets and stops altogether. Lines appear at a more frantic pace, the quality of the resulting images becoming messier. Darker. More jagged and sharp. His normal sweeping grace, always curious from an individual who shows none of this quality in any other pursuit, is gone. Because this ... these images ... 6 has no control over them. They simply are, because they must be.]
[The video cuts off, showing any who may have been watching just the beginnings of what can only be described as a nightmare. For what these pictures are is is, to say the least, disturbing. Scenes of brutality, even murder, in stark black and white. Some of them are figures, though in none are their features truly discernible, but in others not a soul can be seen. There is nothing except the space around them and the blood. The little artist breaks away with a cry, claw-like fingers cutting through the paper and leaving scratches in the wall. Black ink drips onto the floor as if mimicking the pictures. And in the silence, there is a faint sound of realization and sorrowful understanding. Just because you know something doesn't mean you can change it, no matter how much you might want to.]
((ooc; See this is why he has no roommate, this room is spoiler city.))
[Most of the fresh, clean paper he had collected before has been scribbled all over. The strange creatures from before, both cute and twisted, are certainly preset there. But as he moves on to another page, the happy little humming quiets and stops altogether. Lines appear at a more frantic pace, the quality of the resulting images becoming messier. Darker. More jagged and sharp. His normal sweeping grace, always curious from an individual who shows none of this quality in any other pursuit, is gone. Because this ... these images ... 6 has no control over them. They simply are, because they must be.]
[The video cuts off, showing any who may have been watching just the beginnings of what can only be described as a nightmare. For what these pictures are is is, to say the least, disturbing. Scenes of brutality, even murder, in stark black and white. Some of them are figures, though in none are their features truly discernible, but in others not a soul can be seen. There is nothing except the space around them and the blood. The little artist breaks away with a cry, claw-like fingers cutting through the paper and leaving scratches in the wall. Black ink drips onto the floor as if mimicking the pictures. And in the silence, there is a faint sound of realization and sorrowful understanding. Just because you know something doesn't mean you can change it, no matter how much you might want to.]
((ooc; See this is why he has no roommate, this room is spoiler city.))