Happiness is not an ideal of reason but of imagination
Apparently sewing really was just like stitching an injured animal.
None were more surprised than he at the quality of his finished product, which was remarkably perfect. He was rather pleased with himself, to say the least, and could not help a giggle at his lover’s failed attempt beside his. Upon receiving his praise and noted prize from the Sword, he gladly accepted the drinks Kia proffered to him.
“You must’ve given me all your luck,” he quipped to her after he downed the first one, belatedly thinking that drinking this much alcohol didn’t really feel like a reward to him, an absolute lightweight when it came to alcohol. Alas, he had made up his mind and would deal with the consequences when they came.
Who knows, maybe the alcohol would improve his otherwise dreary painting technique for this next task.
He drank his second drink a bit slower than the first, but still finished it before picking up the painting tools, feeling warm and flushed from the intoxicating liquid. With his third drink beside him, he sat before the target on a stool and simply stared blankly at it for a long minute, his thoughts clearly already slowed by the drink.
Then, as if struck by an idea out of nowhere, he took a large gulp of his third drink and got to work, starting with white paint in broad strokes all over the target, before getting the red paint out, mumbling something about “Pennywise,” under his breath all the while.
--
Chuy drinks a lot and then attempts to paint his target as the Pennywise clown.
None were more surprised than he at the quality of his finished product, which was remarkably perfect. He was rather pleased with himself, to say the least, and could not help a giggle at his lover’s failed attempt beside his. Upon receiving his praise and noted prize from the Sword, he gladly accepted the drinks Kia proffered to him.
“You must’ve given me all your luck,” he quipped to her after he downed the first one, belatedly thinking that drinking this much alcohol didn’t really feel like a reward to him, an absolute lightweight when it came to alcohol. Alas, he had made up his mind and would deal with the consequences when they came.
Who knows, maybe the alcohol would improve his otherwise dreary painting technique for this next task.
He drank his second drink a bit slower than the first, but still finished it before picking up the painting tools, feeling warm and flushed from the intoxicating liquid. With his third drink beside him, he sat before the target on a stool and simply stared blankly at it for a long minute, his thoughts clearly already slowed by the drink.
Then, as if struck by an idea out of nowhere, he took a large gulp of his third drink and got to work, starting with white paint in broad strokes all over the target, before getting the red paint out, mumbling something about “Pennywise,” under his breath all the while.
--
Chuy drinks a lot and then attempts to paint his target as the Pennywise clown.
CHULANE
