prismatica | text; un: agatsuma

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text; un: agatsuma

Hello, my name is Soubi Agatsuma. When I first arrived here, I opened up commissions for that band everybody was obsessed over. Since we've moved past that, I want to advertise my art once more.

I'll paint anything. There isn't anything I won't paint. Subject matter, size, object, anything. I'm a university student majoring in art and have painted since I was a small child. I'll let my examples speak for themselves.

[The images he shows are simply pictures he's taken. One of them is a butterfly pinned down, one wing almost torn off in the struggle of trying to escape but being unable to. Another is a butterfly with its wings slowly burning away as it tries to fly towards the sun. The third example is a large landscape portrait of a forest...

With dead butterflies all along the ground. When he's in a bad mood, he paints butterflies. He's always in a bad mood.]

I have some examples of those guys that were here but I doubt anybody is interested in seeing those. If anybody is, though, take them off my hands. They're taking up space that I could use for other pieces and it was a waste of resources. 20 chroma a piece. 30 chroma if you want some details changed. I could change the faces.

We'll discuss the price of original pieces if you're interested but my base rate is around 40 chroma. I'm a fast worker.

Thank you for your consideration.

[Is this a good ad? No but it's an ad and that's all that matters. It isn't like he ever actually did commission work before this.]

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I'll be wearing a long maroon jacket and obviously holding a painting. I'll see you.

[He's running a little late. If you give him too much time then he's sure to be late but for Noiz's sake, he's only about five minutes late as he looks around to see if anybody is looking for him.]

[It's not as though he expects the man to arrive exactly an hour after that point. He chose a cafe so it wouldn't be awkward to wait a while. About half of the tables are occupied this afternoon, with Noiz seated somewhere along the edge, easily visible. Long golden rabbit ears extend above his head; he's wearing a hat with slits in it for the ears to go through, so it covers up his human ears full of piercings.

Once he finally spots someone in a long maroon jacket and holding a painting, he sits back in his chair and calls out to him.]

Yo. Artist.

[Sure, the guy gave his name. Noiz isn't the type to use real names much. He's more inclined to use pronouns and nicknames.]

[Soubi doesn't care about the name or whatever else he can be called. It hardly matters and he wouldn't be surprised if the person had forgotten his name.

This person immediately stands out to him due to the piercings. Soubi's friend has more piercings in his ear than he can currently see on this person, he has never seen anybody with facial piercings. That interests him. What kind of dedication did it take to have all those piercings? They looked uncomfortable. What had made him get them?

Soubi wants to ask but he's here about money for Seimei. That's more important.

Smile planted on his face, forced and polite, he doesn't sit down so he can put the painting in the chair.] Hello. I really liked your prompt. I hope you like it.

[He takes it out of its protection and the painting is mostly black. From the bottom, gray tendrils poke out until a burst of red crocus petals seem almost slapped against the black background as if thrown. There's a sense of urgency that comes from the painting, as if one can imagine those flowers being thrown there at that very moment.

There's a trail of these petals reaching up towards a source of light at the top. It's a minuscule source. That part of the painting is more personal than he meant it to be. Pain as a form of salvation, a way out of the darkness and to familiarity.]

There's no such thing as red crocus flowers but it is always crocus flowers that make it through snow and ice, all to find their way to the warmth of Spring. To a new life. It must not be easy but to survive, they go through such harsh conditions. To find meaning.

[He stares at his own painting, smile gone now as he explains and then catching himself, smiles once more.] Or something to that effect. I suppose my rendition of pain might be a little abstract. [But to him, pain is all he knows and it's the only thing he can actually understand. Pain is a language he knows.]

[Sipping from his coffee cup, Noiz turns his attention to the painting as Soubi unveils it. His gaze drifts over the stark expanse of black, the bursts of blood-red petals, their flurry toward the tiny source of light. Something about that visual and the sense of urgency in the petals' movement causes a tightening in his chest and throat. Crocus flowers are something he doesn't know much about. He's heard of them? But if someone asked him what crocus flowers were like, he wouldn't be able to identify an unlabeled image of them or describe what conditions they endured during any cycle of plant life that wasn't the same for every plant out there. His brow furrows as he considers every detail Soubi points out, comparing it to his own struggles of pain. Even though he mostly cannot feel physical pain with his body as it is, he's recently come to understand just how much emotional pain he suffered for most of his life.

The darkness is like the world of limited sensation he's stuck in, unable to perceive or understand the same things as others. The red petals are like his tongue, the part of him that's alive, that feels alive and knows pain the easiest. The speck of light the petals reach for brings to mind the nebulous goal he keeps reaching for, a reason to keep bothering to live. A reason besides spiting his father who claimed it would have been better had he never been born.

Sucking in a deep breath, Noiz allows his gaze to slowly find the artist's face again. Even with all he's learned about pain the last half a year and then some, he still benefited from the man's explanation.

He still needed this shit explained to him because he was a fucking moron, and that makes his self-loathing burble up like a brief burst of heartburn out of nowhere.]

It's beautiful. Moving.

[When Noiz doesn't say anything at first and only looks at the piece, Soubi figures he must have done a good job and given him what he had been looking for. He had been unsure, to say the least. After all, he didn't know if his own ideas about pain could be understood.

Although it's more like punishment. He would easily say he hated pain and he did in many ways. Back home, he would be chastised for saying he hated pain but then willfully allow himself to be hurt. There were different types of pain and some of them Soubi couldn't stand. But if he thought of pain with a meaning, training, then it was easy to understand.

Looking over Noiz once more, he wants to ask about the piercings. Did they hurt? Was that why he got them? Was there any meaning behind them?

This person is a customer. One that Soubi knows he needs to treat with the utmost respect. This visit is not about what he wants to get but about what he needs to do: support his master. That is the only reason why he doesn't ask about them.]

I'm glad you think so. [The smile had slipped but it's back on his face, fake and polite.] I liked this painting. I liked painting it. Usually I don't like to paint if I have to say something with it but this one I didn't mind.

Guess I lucked out on that. I don't regret commissioning this. It's definitely worth a good tip.

[He points at one of the free seats at the table.]

Go ahead and sit. It'll take me a moment to transfer the payment.

[He's got a crystal to move the payment onto and hand over to him that will act much like a secure flash drive. Since he didn't know how much he'd want to tip, he didn't put the amount on there yet.]

[Soubi sits down as told and while he does wait, he wonders about how to ask Noiz what he wants. In a way that won't potentially offend...

Though it's always easy to do that when you're Soubi.]

Can I ask why you chose this topic?

[That seems neutral enough. A question that anybody could ask.]

[He pulls out his comm device and the crystal, then sets about navigating the banking app in order to load up the crystal drive with 100 chroma or equivalent of demichroma. His attention is focused on that while he answers verbally.]

It's a lot less clear-cut than it seems at first glance. It's not like seeing colors or hearing sound waves. The same circumstance or incident can affect people very differently, in their body and in their heart.

Here you go.

[He hands over the crystal. Enjoy your 150% tip, good sir.]

[Soubi can agree on the topic. Most times he didn't think that his own view on the topic of pain would ever be looked at the same. It was often why he kept his own ideas to himself although that was for many, many reasons.

As he looks down at the crystal, his eyes widen a bit. He had not expected that.]

Oh.

[But he isn't going to turn this down.] I'm glad my perspective rung something true for you, then.

It's nothing.

[He points to the painting in the chair near them.]

Does this have a title?

I usually never title my paintings unless I have to. [Which may not be the best answer but he's bad at these type of things.]

A simple name like 'Pain' doesn't fit well. 'Salvation'? I don't know. Words have meaning...

Hmm..... 'Persistence' is what I'd pick, in that case.

[he taps his chin in thought.]

Some sap might go with 'Perseverance' instead, but 'Persistence' is more open-ended and doesn't imply inevitable success. It's an ongoing struggle.

I like 'Persistence'. It doesn't offer an ending or a promise of happiness.

[That's a little much but when it comes to more personal pieces, that this one ended up being despite it all, he never wants them to be simple. There should be more to it.

And this is coming from someone who would say his pieces never have any deeper meaning.]

'Persistence' it is, then. Thanks, again.

[He too does not care for promises of happiness. That seems like too much for his cynicism.]

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