plot twist twistin' my heart 'til it's hollow
band-aids for all my scraped knees
Bastien's smile is warm, like Rexanna's, but Clem can't help how he folds beneath his gaze and the towering stature he has, keeping close to Rexanna's side. At least his kindness is enough to draw a lopsided, fanged smile from the boy, relieved that Rexanna takes over introductions because frankly he feels entirely out of his element. Though clearly half the others aren't, approaching the Penumbra for various conversations that Clem is happy to ignore. He knows when to give privacy to the adults, doesn't really care about what they're talking about anyway. Apologies are boring.
Until one of the men leans forward intentionally, and Clemente steps forward to aggressively conceal Rexanna's backside when Amun goes to eye it. He may not know what they're speaking of, but Clem used to be a hooker, and he knows a leer when he sees it. All previous unease dissipates beneath his suddenly prickly exterior, cheeks half-puffed and arms crossed. "This is a painting gathering, not an orgy bucko, keep your eyes to yourself," he hisses quietly, like a cross kitten, not wanting to draw further attention but feeling like he needs to protect Rexanna nonetheless. She's a married woman, and he is already growing very attached to her, and she doesn't deserve to be ogled like that. At least, not in Clem's opinion. He doesn't exactly have a good history with "good consensual sex", so Rexanna's thoughts on the matter don't really compute. He just feels overprotective, and this dude has hit his shitlist faster than a cheetah on cocaine.
Luckily they all disperse after that, Clemente's hackles smoothing down to his normal nervous grumpiness. Bastien is talking like, a lot, and Clem kinda tunes him out after the first few sentences. Blah blah blah paint. The boy is far more enamored with that idea. He swoops down on the blue, immediately going to the fringes of the space and staring in awe at the liquid in the bucket. At first he's scared to dip the brush in, does so tentatively and makes a few curious swipes. From there it's like the entire world fades away, and the image comes to life in his mind, unafraid of mistakes or failure with this material he has never encountered before.
He's kinda glad he came.
Clem picks Blue!
Until one of the men leans forward intentionally, and Clemente steps forward to aggressively conceal Rexanna's backside when Amun goes to eye it. He may not know what they're speaking of, but Clem used to be a hooker, and he knows a leer when he sees it. All previous unease dissipates beneath his suddenly prickly exterior, cheeks half-puffed and arms crossed. "This is a painting gathering, not an orgy bucko, keep your eyes to yourself," he hisses quietly, like a cross kitten, not wanting to draw further attention but feeling like he needs to protect Rexanna nonetheless. She's a married woman, and he is already growing very attached to her, and she doesn't deserve to be ogled like that. At least, not in Clem's opinion. He doesn't exactly have a good history with "good consensual sex", so Rexanna's thoughts on the matter don't really compute. He just feels overprotective, and this dude has hit his shitlist faster than a cheetah on cocaine.
Luckily they all disperse after that, Clemente's hackles smoothing down to his normal nervous grumpiness. Bastien is talking like, a lot, and Clem kinda tunes him out after the first few sentences. Blah blah blah paint. The boy is far more enamored with that idea. He swoops down on the blue, immediately going to the fringes of the space and staring in awe at the liquid in the bucket. At first he's scared to dip the brush in, does so tentatively and makes a few curious swipes. From there it's like the entire world fades away, and the image comes to life in his mind, unafraid of mistakes or failure with this material he has never encountered before.
He's kinda glad he came.
Clem picks Blue!
blankets when i had bad dreams
felt like nothin' could hurt me
CLEMENTE
