12-08-2018, 10:39 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]//really, it's okay!! we all have times when we get busy or our muse doesn't work for us
It wasn't all that hard to startle Steve, depending on what he was doing. He wasn't afraid -there wasn't anything wrong with fear, but he more often feared for other people than himself at this point- but surprised. Taken aback. His hearing wasn't as great as other people's, and it was when he didn't always respond to his mother's louder entrances as a kid when she suspected something was wrong. Guess getting sick wasn't the only thing that could happen to him, but he was more than used to it by now. He just hadn't gotten the hang of placing himself where he could hear things better. He did it when people were talking, but when Steve was by himself, he never really saw the point. Probably should've expected someone would show up eventually, though he wasn't exactly a charmer. Wasn't much of anything- made a poor punching bag, too.
"'S not your fault. You could wear bells and I still wouldn't've heard you." The small feline shifted around, so he could keep his good ear to Bucky, while not entirely turned away from the canvas. It was always intimidating, staring at blank canvases; it felt like as soon as he pressed paint onto it, he would ruin the entire piece. Kinda funny that something inanimate could be so daunting, when he'd take on people three times his size no problem.
Bright eyes turned from the canvas to Bucky, head slightly tilted, like he was trying to figure out if the other feline was just messing with him. Normally, people scolded him, ignored the situation, laughed at him- nobody'd really thanked him, before. Steve wasn't saying he needed gratitude, because he didn't, but it was just...strange hearing it. "But you still helped. You would've done more if you could." Steve looked back to the canvas. "It's better to try to help than to not do anything at all." A small, crooked grin twisted his mouth. "But, if we're keeping count, Marina did all the work."
He poured a few dollops of paint on the floor, eyes slitted in concentration, and he almost missed the question. Almost. "Places. People, sometimes, but I don't get to paint a lot." Steve exhaled, the sound a bit regretful. "Have you ever tried?"
It wasn't all that hard to startle Steve, depending on what he was doing. He wasn't afraid -there wasn't anything wrong with fear, but he more often feared for other people than himself at this point- but surprised. Taken aback. His hearing wasn't as great as other people's, and it was when he didn't always respond to his mother's louder entrances as a kid when she suspected something was wrong. Guess getting sick wasn't the only thing that could happen to him, but he was more than used to it by now. He just hadn't gotten the hang of placing himself where he could hear things better. He did it when people were talking, but when Steve was by himself, he never really saw the point. Probably should've expected someone would show up eventually, though he wasn't exactly a charmer. Wasn't much of anything- made a poor punching bag, too.
"'S not your fault. You could wear bells and I still wouldn't've heard you." The small feline shifted around, so he could keep his good ear to Bucky, while not entirely turned away from the canvas. It was always intimidating, staring at blank canvases; it felt like as soon as he pressed paint onto it, he would ruin the entire piece. Kinda funny that something inanimate could be so daunting, when he'd take on people three times his size no problem.
Bright eyes turned from the canvas to Bucky, head slightly tilted, like he was trying to figure out if the other feline was just messing with him. Normally, people scolded him, ignored the situation, laughed at him- nobody'd really thanked him, before. Steve wasn't saying he needed gratitude, because he didn't, but it was just...strange hearing it. "But you still helped. You would've done more if you could." Steve looked back to the canvas. "It's better to try to help than to not do anything at all." A small, crooked grin twisted his mouth. "But, if we're keeping count, Marina did all the work."
He poured a few dollops of paint on the floor, eyes slitted in concentration, and he almost missed the question. Almost. "Places. People, sometimes, but I don't get to paint a lot." Steve exhaled, the sound a bit regretful. "Have you ever tried?"
[align=center][div style="font-size:16pt;line-height:.9;color:#000;font-family:impact;padding:8px;letter-spacing:.7px"]NEVER THOUGHT THAT I WAS WEAK
[div style="width:302px;font-size:7pt;line-height:1.2;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:2px;margin-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px; text-align:justify;"]ALWAYS THOUGHT I COULD GET HURT PRETTY BAD, STILL GET UP ON MY OWN TWO FEET. ALWAYS BELIEVED I WAS FREE, THAT I HAD SOME SENSE OF INTEGRITY THAT WOULD RISE ABOVE WHATEVER TRIED TO CHANGE ME. ——— [color=black]INFORMATION/TAGS [color=transparent]———
[div style="width:302px;font-size:7pt;line-height:1.2;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:2px;margin-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px; text-align:justify;"]ALWAYS THOUGHT I COULD GET HURT PRETTY BAD, STILL GET UP ON MY OWN TWO FEET. ALWAYS BELIEVED I WAS FREE, THAT I HAD SOME SENSE OF INTEGRITY THAT WOULD RISE ABOVE WHATEVER TRIED TO CHANGE ME. ——— [color=black]INFORMATION/TAGS [color=transparent]———