Hi hello. I am on the journey of art self-discovery. May I be extremely inspired by you (read: steal your artstyle) for one (1) artwork please. Like a study. Yes, a study. I'm not an artstyle mosquito. eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee cough; sorry, that wasn't me. If not, that's completely cool too; whatever you're comfortable with is good
Absolutely, go ahead :D get as much inspiration as you want
and um it's not necessary, but I would love to see the artwork once it's done (no pressure if you don't want to)
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“What if we just… quit?” I ask suddenly.
Noah is washing the dirt and plaster off his arms, scrubbing them so hard that what little of his skin isn’t scarred is bright pink. His scars are so faded that they look decades old.
We’re only twenty, but he looks so much older.
“I can’t,” he says simply, not looking at me as he washes the last bit of soap down the sink. His voice barely even broke.
The television host’s voice chatters for us.
“Stormwalker and Supernova: heroes, or no better than the villains?”
it says, staticky from poor connection.
Our apartment is on the outskirts of the city—even as government workers, we’re paid far too little to live downtown. Even if it’d make our jobs easier to be there.
“—today the two heroes helped make a record number of arrests, stopping three riots and two villain attacks within one day. But are they any—”
“Why not?” I ask, pushing myself off the stool and moving to put a hand on his shoulder.
He shrugs it off.
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
He finally turns to look at me, silent resignation written all over his face. He tries to fake a reassuring smile, but I know better.
“—left thousands of dollars in damages and thousands more homeless as—”
That’s their excuse for paying us so little. ‘Because they need it to repair the destruction left in our wake.’ ‘If we want to be paid better, we should do a better job; don’t cause so much damage.’
If it’s so easy, why don’t you do it yourself? Try dodging lasers while saving people, while leading the villains away from populated areas, while trying to take them down! Then—then you can tell us to ‘do a better job!’
“Even if they can’t appreciate it,” Noah finishes defeatedly.
The pain in his eyes makes me want to fly all the way to the reporters, standing out front of the half-destroyed West Bank and talking trash about us, and to punch them so hard they go flying into the wreckage themselves.
Like Noah was when Genesis made him pick between himself and the people trying to flee the streets.
Lasers do an incredible amount of damage, even to people whose skin is hard as rock and bones are hard as steel. Even Noah—Stormwalker himself—couldn’t fight against those.
That kind of force—powerful enough to send a man of steel through stone walls—is strong enough to cause cuts and scrapes and bruises on one of the strongest heroes in the world.
But, yeah. ‘Do better.’
I can’t even step in myself. I have to stand back from afar, watching Noah get bloodied and bruised while reporters salivate at the thought of talking shit about us once the danger is over. I have to wait for Noah to get close enough for me to heal him.
Because that’s all I can do. Heal.
Next to Noah, I feel useless.
I’m just as squishy as everyone else, but I still put myself at risk in order to help the heroes. Well, mostly just Noah. But he and Supernova are the only heroes in this city, so.
‘Do better,’ they say.
I want to spit in all of their faces.
‘It’s the right thing to do, even if they don’t appreciate it,’ Noah says.
“Okay,” I say gently. I fight the urge to cup my hand around his cheek.
Part 2 | Part 3
Divider from @cafekitsune
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