said too much ♡ drawing??

[arcy]

♡ Caboose didn't really mind being a dog, honestly. He was probably handling himself better in this form than he was as a human, at any rate. He knew how to swim now!! He always used to sink. But he liked swimming!! It was fun!! And!! And!! .. And, um. What was he thinking again? Oh right! Dog! Why dog? .. Caboose's only concern with this form was his lack of hands, honestly. And only for trivial reasons. He used to really like to draw! He still liked to!! It was fun and it was one of the only things he could focus on by himself for more than a few minutes at a time. But he didn't have hands and the crayon he'd found kept rolling out of his paws. It was getting .. very frustrating. Frustrating in Caboose's terms, I mean. Which was barely any frustration at all, though he was getting upset. The Retriever lets out a wordless woof, pawing aggressively at the poor, broken crayon. He couldn't pick it up now!! He didn't like broken crayons. But he had another one! He had a box!! It had all sorts of colors! Caboose doesn't remember where he found it, though. But he had it now! Wasn't that fun!
Caboose's next attempt goes .. better. Selectively better. He his this crayon inbetween his teeth(the rest of the crayon box was knocked over and spilled in Caboose's attempt to grab the new one) and he has his head tilted just a little to press it into the paper. And yes, shockingly, Caboose had grabbed a paper instead of just drawing all over the walls or something. But mostly by sheer luck of finding a blank paper and knowing that it was even better to draw on!! But he couldn't control the lines. The currently helmet-less Caboose, after a minute, drops the crayon, looking distinctly disappointed for possibly .. the first time in his life, honestly. Did Caboose even know what disappointment was? Well, he was feeling it, if only subtly. He wasn't good at negative emotions of any sorts. But you couldn't blame him -- if there was one, singular thing Caboose could manage to do pretty well, by his standards, it was drawing. Even if they were crayon drawings. "Aww," Caboose whines, kind of quietly by his standards, but still pretty loud. The crayon drops to the ground(the common room ground, thanks) with a clatter. Caboose, having most definitely forgotten he was holding it, blinks a few times, startled, before looking at said purple crayon accusingly. And then he bats at it a few times with his paws, mumbling under his breath pretty distinctly.
//catch me doing anything but posting in actual open threads. also this is rushed haa
also i really liked that 'caboose is a good artist' headcanon i read ages ago can you tell. i dedicated an entire thread to it see. he's doing his Best.

[Suiteheart]

SUITE
HEART

In terms of drawing, sketching, and painting, Suiteheart was a terrible artist. Well, she wasn't God-awful, but she needed a ton of work. However, she preferred music. She liked guitars instead of pencils, music instead of art mediums, and sheet music in place of blank sheets of paper. She drew with her children from time to time, whenever they asked of her, but other than that, she strayed from the task. She wished she practiced more, but she never could seem to find the time. Besides, she would leave that to the experts: Little, Hazel, and -

Caboose?

Curiosity speckled Suiteheart's baby blue eyes as the watched the poor canine try to draw with crayons. It didn't seem to be working, and the slight disappointment in his voice caused a tiny frown to form on her lips. She padded forward, looking at the materials set out before him. "Hey, don't look so down, buddy," the white feline greeted, coming to sit beside him. "Why don't you just try again? I'm sure you'll get it this time! And if you don't, I've got a friend I can ask to help you."

She reached over to grab a green crayon and offered it to Caboose with a smile. She hoped he would give it another go. Suite really wanted to see his creativity. He was an interesting creature, so she didn't doubt there was some crazy cool talent hidden within him. Maybe it was drawing.

[b]suiteheart folie-mikaelson . ecliptic admiral . the ascendants . tags

© [color=black]MADI

[guts]

[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Church never really cared what Caboose was doing. He was an idiot, and got himself into trouble a lot, but as long as he wasn't following him around and being annoying, then he was fine. Still, it was difficult to count how many times he had to save his hide in the past. He didn't like the guy, in all honesty, but while he could have been like Sarge and purposefully tried to get him killed, he just...didn't have the heart to do that. He wasn't that kind of guy, and besides, the extra soldier was always a plus. So he had kept him around and made sure to watch him often, just to keep him out of trouble.

Now, a lot of things had changed, maybe even including their relationship. While Caboose thought of him as his best friend, it was pretty one-sided. But since they were stuck in this situation with none else familiar, he was about the only person he could count on--which was definitely not good. He was eager to find others at first, but eventually gave up, as there was no way of knowing where the others were. They could have been anywhere, really.

One thing that hadn't changed was the watchful eye he still kept on his teammate. Considering the dangers that lurked around this planet, he wanted to make sure he didn't run off and get himself hurt, or worse. He wasn't sure the Freelancers would do shit, either, considering he was the one they wanted, it seemed. But he wouldn't put throwing him to the wolves once he outlived his usefulness past them. That's probably what they were planning, if he had to guess.

"What are you trying to draw, anyway?" he asks, somehow managing to sound displeased through a simple question. Really, when did he not sound displeased? He had been normally grumpy before this all started, and the stress only added to that.

"SPEECH"

[★ HAZEL]

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[align=center]hazel elise caelum . nine months . the ascendants . golden girl . tags

To a girl who lived as a real-life Rapunzel for the majority of her childhood, time was easily listed as one of her most hated things. It never seemed to pass quite right, quite fast enough. Hazel would spend days collecting trinkets and shards from around the house, stashing them under blankets and pillows for later. She’d find string and yarn, beads and newspapers with blank sudoku puzzles or crosswords. She’d collect broken jewelry and pencils she found on the floor by Mother’s office door. Scraps of paper and cardboard made their way into her room. Half of the household’s every-day clutter became Hazel’s favorite toys and pastimes, letting her occupy herself with something other than the stinging pain of the bandaged cuts on her paws.

Every knick-knack and bauble in her room was meticulously organized in little boxes lined against a wall, because cleaning was another time-waster. She’d make bracelets with sloppy designs and learned to snap the pencils in half to use as building tools. She’d tape together the frame of a house made out of those stupid yellow pencils and cover it with cardboard or newspaper, knowing Mother would come in and take it at some point.

Crafts were trivial, though; Hazel’s favorite thing to do was draw. It had been a childish experiment at first, wondering how well she could hold a pencil in her mouth. Then it spiraled: Hazel hoarded printer paper and pencils like the convenient store across the street might run out. She would practice for hours and hours, having literally nothing better to do, and slowly she progressed. Just before she ran away, she had mastered the art of pencil pressure, eagerly drawing sketches of anything and everything.

Of course...now? Now Hazel’s art things lay broken and bent in a drawer, snapped like the wisp of pride she harbored for her abilities. Nobody knew; she didn’t want them to. Art had become an excuse to her, a poor reason behind why she wouldn’t fight. She missed it. She missed it so much it would ache at times, her brain screaming for the sensation of paper under her paws again.

A sad smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she joined the small group, having spotted Caboose’s struggle. “I didn’t know you liked to draw, Caboose,” Hazel admitted. It was a horribly cliche thing to say, but. Many people doodled, but there were few who enjoyed the art of it. She took her seat next to Suite, wrapping her tail over her paws. “That’s really fantastic that you’re giving it a go — it takes a lot of practice. But drawing is mostly just muscle memory, so if you work hard enough at it, you’ll get there.”

[sup]c) miithers[/sup]

[arcy]

♡ Holding stuff like this was kinda sorta difficult like this. That was Caboose's literal only complaint about being a dog. If you could count it as a complaint -- it was more of a concern than anything. Did Caboose have concerns? Questionable.
Caboose is quickly dragged from his annoyed grumbling by Suiteheart. The Retriever looks up, tail instantly beginning to wag as he registers who it is. He likes her! He .. doesn't remember her name, Sweet or something, but that's okay! He nearly forgets about his dilemma until she starts talking about it, in which he tilts his head curiously. "I can't hold stuff without hands," Caboose offers a little blankly, pawing at the broken crayon again. He has broken .. two crayons. That crayon he'd broken with his teeth. Caboose didn't know how to hold things gently, unfortunately. However, his dilemma is quickly forgotten when Suiteheart hands him a crayon. Caboose, once again, takes it in his jaws. And then he looks at his paper a little blankly. It was kind of .. messy .. to draw on. It'd clash  with his lines!! Caboose paws at it until the paper kind of sort of flips over, claws catching on the edge. The paper is .. a little crumpled and torn, but it's over, and Caboose is unconcerned about whatever he's done. He's about to put the crayon back to paper when Church appears, and wow, there goes Caboose's tail again. Caboose opens his mouth to reply, and there goes another crayon, but that's okay 'cause he can just pick it up in another minute. Even if it has teeth marks in it.  "Dunno!!" He yips. He was just drawing whatever came to mind, but he doesn't know what that thing was. He liked drawing flowers and people and friends but there weren't any flowers. But!! There were friends here!! He could draw one of them!! It wouldn't be different than drawing a different friend, would it? Even though they didn't stand the same way. Very different!
"Uh-huh!! It used to be easier, though!!" Caboose smacks his paw again. He appears to be kind of .. pouting. He liked drawing -- he was as good at it as somebody like him could be. It wasn't as fun right now, though. That was sad. He barely manages to hang onto Hazel's words on practicing, head tilted. It's hard for him to focus on things people say if they're more than a few words long. He is very good at blankly listening and not understanding, though. Caboose doesn't know what to say, though, so he just nods kind of furiously. He .. probably would have tossed off his helmet like that, if he were wearing it. But he wasn't. That was good.
With all of this done, Caboose just sort of .. sits there for a minute, blinking. He isn't very good at moving back into action, but he eventually does remember and picks the crayon back up.  He doesn't quite know where to go from here, but, determined, he goes back to trying to draw. It .. looks very awkward. At least he's .. trying.

[BASTILLEPAW]

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SING, GODDESS, OF THE RAGE OF ACHILLES

He supposed that he should have anticipated art to immediately remind him of Hazel. It was a little hard not to when she was standing there, her aura glowing like the sun as he came to a slow stop beside her, letting the bond tug him along silently. But even when she wasn't there, a physical reminder of her talents, she was the first that came to mind, always: he saw paint or stumbled upon charcoal in an old room and thought that he should take them to her, probably. That she might want them, might use them. She was an amazing artist, after all, and her aura was always so... warm and heady, lit up with her happiness when she drew. It was a hard thing to forget.

"I'd imagine shifting from human drawing to dog drawing is difficult," he supplied after a moment, his gaze sliding from Hazel to Caboose. He was an odd one, but Bast didn't really care, as long as he wasn't causing problems. To each their own and all that shit. "How's the rest of... that going?"

[b]BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS — ASTRAL SERAPH — THE ASCENDANTS — TAGS

[Cosmic]

I loved drawing, personally. Drawing in the dirt, on trees, on a damn sketchbook or marking my territory, I loved to draw, no matter what it was. You could see me on the border sketching in the dirt for fuck's sakes. It was a way to kill the time.

I approached quietly allowing my clanmates to commentate on Caboose's drawing. It seemed like he was having a hard time drawing. Being the more... kinder artist that I was, I decided I would ask him if he needed assistance.

"Hey Caboose. Do you want some help drawing in this form? I suck right now too, but we can practice together."

[Suiteheart]

SUITE
HEART

Suiteheart nodded a quick hello to Church, Hazel, Bastilleprisoner, and Playerone. She then returned her attention to Caboose, and she was dismayed at his disappointment in himself. She was glad he was trying! That was always the first step toward anything, wasn't it?

A smile traipsed her lips as she watched him go back to drawing. She loved watching others draw. It was weirdly soothing and therapeutic. The white feline tucked her paws underneath her as baby blue eyes settled on the drawing Caboose was attempting. Whatever this was, she knew it was going to be better than any of her works; her paws were meant for guitars and picture-taking not crayons and sketching, unfortunately.

"Somebody outta start an artist's club or somethin'," Suite idled as she watched. That would be cool. She'd love to see all the creations. "Like I wanna hang the drawings up... around the Observatory and stuff... That'd be so neat." Her words were slow, and it was clear she was enthralled with Caboose's actions.

[b]suiteheart folie-mikaelson . ecliptic admiral . the ascendants . tags

© [color=black]MADI

[arcy]

♡ Honestly, drawing was the only thing he ever had tended to have any standards on for himself. The one, singular thing. Fairly low standards, but the fact they existed at all was a miracle. Because he entirely forgot to have standards on literally everything else. He'd be content with the most molded room in existence to sleep in, honestly. But, y'know, he grew up with pretty constant praises on his ability to draw by his sisters, so that's what he took pride in. .. To the possible extent. Caboose .. wasn't .. very good at feeling his own emotions. Also they were pretty dull to begin with. Certain ones, at least. But! His sisters encouraged him a lot, and they encouraged him for a lot of things he managed to do at all, but that'd been special. Different. So Caboose had started to draw a lot more for his sisters, and it was fun! He did it less when he didn't go to college though 'cause he was training. But now! He had a lot of time! Because people didn't tell him what to do. .. Except Washingtub. Washingtub told him to do a lot of things. But Caboose was pretty much entirely unconcerned with that. As he was with a lot of things.
Caboose doesn't mind the people gathering around him. He likes being around people!! Even if it's just a little, little bit distracting, Caboose doesn't really notice nor care. Even though he nods pretty furiously, though sometimes .. absently .. at the same time, at Bastille's mention of humans and something something. He didn't have hands. That's all Caboose really cared about. In another moment, Caboose has once again dropped his poor, chewed up crayon. "Tastes funny," Is all Caboose says, intelligently. His drawing is .. a mess, honestly. He's gone off the paper once again, but it's .. semi-recognizable as some sort of animal. Caboose hasn't drawn kitty-kitty-s before. But that's okay! He hasn't drawn a lot of things before! Like! Um! .. Tables? No, he hasn't drawn a table before. Luckily, Caboose has not picked up his crayon again when Playerone(not that Caboose knows her name) approaches, and the Retriever's tail wags furiously as he looks up at her. His tail is ... sweeping at crayons. He has spilled crayons .. everywhere and has certainly not noticed this. He .. makes some sort of blubbers sound that sounds like the beginning of a 'i am good enough i do not need help' sort of argument, because Caboose has a very strange sort of ego. But he, while talking, appears to have decided against it. Somewhat. Decided against it in his typical Caboose fashion. He'd like to spend time with this .. also white kitty! A somewhat strange looking kitty, but Caboose doesn't even notice the difference. "Yes!!! I would love to color with you!" Caboose smacks a paw against the ground again. Whatever flicker of insult is already gone with the wind and long forgotten in an instant, because of course. He seems genuinely excited. He loved spending time with people!! And people besides his sisters usually weren't interested in drawing with him. Or doing anything with him at all. But. Y'know. Caboose .. probably doesn't realize that. Whoops. He blinks a few times, then resumes his task of messy, messy lines. He does seem encouraged and excited enough. Not to the point of bouncing around the room, solely because of his task. He thrives off of attention and all that, and being the center of attention was exciting.  He half-hears whatever Suiteheart is saying. Hang up drawings? Like on a fridge? Like his family did? Caboose very nearly bursts out and drops the crayon again, the poor abused thing, but ultimately kind of .. doesn't. Expression unguarded, he seems to agree, though.

[guts]

[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Considering who this was, Church definitely didn't expect him to be good at drawing. He was pretty scatter-brained, and thus it was hard to imagine him having some sort of talent. He had never caught him with a pen or pencil, and since he could barely spell properly, it wasn't hard to assume he didn't know how to draw pictures, either. Yet here he was, at least trying. So far it just looked like scribbles that vaguely resembled a cat. He would give him the benefit of the doubt, though, and just assume he wasn't doing well because of a lack of thumbs.

He watches him as he interacts with everyone, though he sticks towards the back, simply listening in. He wasn't interested in drawing with this idiot, and with a huff, he begins to walk away, tail lashing behind him. This was a waste of time, if he was honest. Damn, he was starting to sound like those Freelancers.

"SPEECH"