#leandro buwanhari

[mourningmaybells]

they’ve gone missing

[mourningmaybells]

found out you can differentiate povs in epistolary novels by changing the font to fit the personality. might try it out for ahwile but still not sure

[mourningmaybells]

i hate writing... it makes me look up things like "what do vets use to euthanize" in case I want to write a sentence back in or "what's that thingy in the door".

also the thing with the door is a "jamb"

[mourningmaybells]

im trying very hard to make leandro vampire-coded

[mourningmaybells]

idk i just need to write about a guy who's paranoid and feeling guilty and hopeless enough to ask if he can exhume his mom's grave to make sure she's actually still dead (she is)

[mourningmaybells]

If Leandro knew Claudio was Siyon and Aciano’s band aid baby, and Claudio knew Leandro was Siyon and [Leandro’s father’s] unplanned pregnancy they would absolutely use it as ammo in a fight. But alas.

[mourningmaybells]

I’m trying to get back into the rhythm of drawing and it’s hard

[mourningmaybells]

still struggling with character voices but I think “how do I make a painful panic attack sound like the most life threatening thing to a normie 1940s person who I pretend to write to so this person I made up doesn’t think of me as lesser and incapable” is how Leandro writes and “how do I make my terrible heart break, a traumatizing dismemberment and my biggest regret that’s eaten most of my soul sound like it was just Tuesday to save my own sanity” is how Toyang writes.

[mourningmaybells]

i just know if leandro and ariela existed in normal modern day, he'd be crazy about "there are many benefits to being a marine biologist" memes and she'd watch serial experiments lain for 2 days straight , write a detailed theory about identity in her journal before collapsing into a 4 hour nap

toyang would be a trekkie who owns this

[mourningmaybells]

I wanna play 4D chess with how people figure out the gender of leonardo's partner. not because it adds anything to the main plot (though it does) but because doing twists and turns like this will keep me from making the main mainplot too drastic because that energy will be elsewhere

[mourningmaybells]

[redacted]'s journal on oct 11

Oct 11- You sit down and draw someone you love. It’s not perfect and the eyes don’t align well. In fact, this drawing on the page seems less beautiful than the person it’s meant to imitate and it almost feels like an insult. But then you reason with yourself, tell yourself that you’ve captured this persons’ essence, and you feel content at the attempt. You close that page in your journal, and avoid looking at it ever again. 

You draw someone you love. You draw again and again the entire summer until attempt #24 finally looks like the image you’ve held in your head was miraculously projected onto the page. You think “this time it’s perfect”. But is it too perfect? Have you whittled the one you love down to the most palatable version? You’ve drawn the scars, the wrinkles, the thick folds in the neck, but is it an inoffensive mediocre replication meant to please the common men who do not know this person as intimately as you do? You don’t show anyone, let alone the one you love. It’s nothing—  you hope it means nothing —  but it feels the closest you can make to a confession of devotion. You rip it out, methodically run it under a faucet until it can never be saved, and regret doing so as you lie awake in your bed.

You sit down and you draw someone you once loved. This person never liked being photographed, and tried to remain hidden as much as possible. It’s out of shyness and insecurity, and the feeling no one can ever claim one’s own body. You understand, but you wish you could have done more to lift away the weight of shame. You know you will never stop loving this person, and now it’s hard flipping through albums knowing you could have done more to immortalize these precious moments. But did the person you love want immortality? This person wanted to transcend death in a way you never believed. In your eyes, there is only the material world and the world of emotion. You live in the first when you’re awake, and in the second when you focus on pure sensation. You fell in love with this person everyday, in little gestures, among the sounds of plates being washed, beneath the cover of linen sheets on rainy afternoons. That love lives long after as an echo calling itself “Grief”.

You draw the person you still love, and it never matches how you remember them. You don’t know why you can’t just cry like everyone else.

[mourningmaybells]

guy who's definitely not trying to place himself outside the story

[mourningmaybells]

i keep going back and rewriting this part because I dont know how to fully explain it. i dont think leandro even knows how to explain it i mean he has dad issues

[mourningmaybells]

god ive really fucked myself over because i spent most of the 74 pages making him sound like this. and there's mostly no plot yet

he has enough self-awareness to know he's rambling but not enough to know how to stop

[mourningmaybells]

oh my god i forgot leandro has a concussion during the first 14 days of staying in Cayan

[mourningmaybells]

leandro's too tall for my other ocs whenever i draw them next to each other im gonna make him headless like ms bellum from now on i guess... want to draw a toyang and antonia meet cute soon