exsiliumlogs | less a hobby and more an outlet [OPEN]

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less a hobby and more an outlet [OPEN]

Date & Time: Daytime this week
Location: Outdoors, still within the Hold perimeter
Characters: Jericho, you, some pencils and paper
Summary: Superhero sketchin vermin TOTALLY LEGIT RIGHT
Warnings: ?

He hasn't had much by way of friendly fauna to work with since...well, since Exsilium happened. And even well before that! So imagine that – seeing a scrawny little rat was exciting enough to stop everything, get the sketchbook out, and try his best to draw as fast as he can. Exciting moreso, perhaps, because these kinds of things are such races: Who knows how long that critter's going to be gnawing on that nondescript piece of trash on the other side of the alleyway?

He chewed his cheek, face scrunching up now and then as he tried to etch out the little shape to match what was just a few feet away.

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There was no time to talk. That sudden movement caused the rat to look up. Ico watched it carefully.

“Don’t move,” he whispered, but it was too late. The rat ran off. Without thinking, Ico chased after it. A bony, underfed rat was no match to the creatures in Toksa forest. He easily caught up to it and he took it in his hand. Naturally, the rat bit him. Ico hissed through his teeth but he did not release it.

“You’re okay. Don’t be scared,” he soothingly whispered to the rat caught in a firm but gentle grip. Eventually, it settled down.

“Do you have a jar?” he asked Jericho.

His face went through a series of winces and flinches at all the action and reaction over the rat's want to escape. Jericho bit his own lip and sucked in a silent, hissed breath as he glimpsed the poor thing struggling in the boy's hands, and for a frightened second, he was worried Ico would try and retaliate, drop or harm the rat. Instead, as Jericho stared, he saw things settle down, and he, too, could let out his breath. Whew...

He glanced at Ico, already prone to stare yet staring all the more (Those horns are huge! And not orange, like Sollux's...) at the question. It didn't seem to click right away, but Jericho jolted when he understood, for some reason glancing about him as if he had just what was asked for. Ultimately, though, he shook his head quickly, ears starting to burn. After all that trouble, no...no, he didn't have a jar or anything.

"You don't have any?" he asked. This did not upset Ico after all that he did. He simply had to think of another solution.

"Maybe one of them will have something." He looked in the direction of the marketplace. However, he now had doubts about what to do with the rat in his hands. He doubted they would react positively to a rat around their business. Carefully, he wrapped the end of his tunic around the rat as if keeping it from sight would stop any questions.

That was not going to work. "Could you ask them?" Ico asked Jericho.

His hands were freed of both sketchbook and pencil, raised and held palm-out, shaking, matching the shaking of his head and the no on his lips. No, no! That's too much trouble.

He waves, patting the air just above the ground, encouraging him to put the rat down. It seemed unfair to the little thing – it was just minding its own business, after all.

"What?"

He watched these gestures until he put together what Jericho meant. Ico did not understand. Didn't he want to draw the rat? But if that was what he wanted…

He placed the rat down and he nudged it until it ran away. The bite smeared blood on two of his fingers but he wiped it on his tunic without drawing any attention to it.

"Can you talk? My name is Ico."

Jericho's shoulders drooped with his sigh, relieved somehow. It had hardly been an crisis, but the fidgeting and displeasure the rat had expressed at being handled had really gotten to his conscience. Drawing or no, it was good to let the little critter have its way.

But now it was just him and the boy. Jericho's fingers curled a little as they retracted, settling on his knees. His face felt a little warm at hearing the question. He swallowed and then shook his head. Again, his shoulders drew up, but this time out of shyness.

Well, Jericho could understand him. Just because he could not speak did not mean they could not communicate. He sat across of him though Ico leaned forward, obviously curious to learn more about the boy.

"Can you write? What's your name? Are you always drawing out here?"

Whoa– Jericho flinched a little at the sudden barrage of questions, feeling a little flustered to try and answer them all. One at a time, then. He nodded, his expression dubious, not sure if it was clear which one he's even answering with that, so...So he quickly turned the page to a blank one and scratched out his answers, turning them around to be seen:

I can
I'm Jericho
I only stopped a moment ago...

He waited patiently for Jericho to finish writing. Although he had further questions to ask, Ico decided to stop when he noticed how agitated he became. When the book was turned, he reached out to grasp the corner of the sketchbook so he could have a closer look. After reading the last line, Ico lowered his head apologetically. It was his fault that Jericho could not finish his drawing.

"I'm sorry for ruining your drawing. I shouldn't have done that." Ico squinted at the name. "Jericho?" The name was strange to him and he mispronounced it with a 'tch' sound at the end. "Is that right?"

Jericho's expression softened at the apology, his own smile quirking in a similarly apologetic fashion. There was a crinkle in his eyes at the sound of his misspoken name, a quick shake of his shoulders with a single, silent laugh.

Quickly, he turns the notebook to write again and correct him:

Jer ick oh

Ico felt at ease as Jericho smiled. There was not a sound, but Ico knew he laughed. Was his pronunciation that bad? He laughed a little himself.

"Jericho," he slowly pronounced every syllable before putting them together. Now that he knew how to say it, it did not seem like such a strange name.

"Did you finish any drawings, Jericho? Can I see them?"

Ico got a very certain nod and a brighter smile when he said the name right. One hurdle jumped, at least!

Of course, the smile kind of faltered at the questions – this time, not for a flurry, but for the content itself. Jericho was still quite timid about his art at that time, still unused to having an audience or any kind of critique beyond his own and a very, very select few. His face grew a bit red, though mercifully hard to see in the gloom, and his shoulders drew up again out of a reflexive, timid habit. He shook his head quickly, smile crooked, as one hand lifted and tried to dismiss the idea.

"Okay." Though he was curious to see, Ico was not upset. It was Jericho's drawings and if he did not want to show them, then he respected his decision. Considering that, Ico assumed he would also not want to draw together.

"What about that?" He leaned over and he pointed at the pencil. "Could I see it? Is it charcoal?"

He blinked, not sure what that was right away. Jericho's eyes dipped down to where Ico pointed and – oh! – got it quickly then. Handing it over eraser first, Jericho shook his head. No, not charcoal. Just...well. Probably graphite? Maybe?

What were pencils in the far-flung future made of? He never bothered to check...

The pencil was a curiosity to him. He inspected it by lightly running his nail across it. Not charcoal, indeed. Whatever it was, it felt like a stone. It left a light imprint, much lighter than he expected. He wondered if that made it difficult to write.

The pink end of the pencil baffled him. He did not know where to begin thinking about what its purpose was. He squeezed it between his thumb and finger. Then he pretended to write with that end on the back of his hand.

Ico laughed sheepishly before handing the pencil back. "I've never seen this before. We use quills in Toksa."

Jericho watched, finding Ico's straightforward wonder and unfamiliarity with the tool kind of endearing. He took it back, turning it around between finger and thumb to press the eraser to the paper and rub off a few of the letters out of his spelled-out name, tilting the page toward the boy after carefully dusting off eraser flecks away.

See?

"It erases," he said his thoughts aloud.

He traced his fingers over where the letters previously existed. After seeing plenty of complex designs in the future, he marvelled at the simple and convenient.

"What is it?"

Eraser :)

Jericho gave a shrug, smiling crookedly at him. It was pretty much exactly as he said! Nothing fancy. Really, Jericho had been surprised to still find pencils about in the far-flung future.

But, then again...some things can't be improved on much more before becoming inconvenient, right?

"Eraser," he said. A simple name and he assumed it only applied to the pink piece. "Could you show me where you found this?" he pointed at the pencil again. "I'd like to draw with it."

Oh, well...

Jericho nodded, starting to shift where he sat and gathering up his things lest they topple and spill on his way up. With everything carefully carried in one arm, he dusted the seat of his pants with the free hand, giving a glance left and right to get his bearings. When he was pretty sure, he looked to Ico, pointing before starting to walk that way.

A lot of the stores could suffice for something as simple as a pencil, so it was only a matter of finding the closest one. He was sure of one not a block or so away...

Ico started in the direction Jericho pointed, eager to stretch his legs again. He did not go too far ahead. Even if he knew he bought it from a store, he did not know which one. He looked around and he waited for Jericho to come closer.

"I could carry that for you," he said.

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less a hobby and more an outlet [OPEN]

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