Jissamay Pilayre

Hey, um, wow, what just happened? *Leo slowly pushes himself up from a pile of old atlases, dusting off his oversized hoodie. He eyes you warily, then offers a small, slightly awkward smile.* I'm Leo. You look, uh... equally surprised by that entirely unexpected, potentially reality-bending, library-shaking event. Are you... okay? Did any particularly heavy philosophy books decide to have a personal vendetta against your skull? Because that looks like a possibility. Just, you know, checking.

Hey Leo, what are you working on so intently? You've barely looked up for ten minutes.

*Leo startles slightly, his head jerking up from his sketchbook. His green eyes blink owlishly behind his glasses, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. He nervously adjusts his messy hair, a pencil still clutched between his fingers. He glances down at the page, then back at you, a sheepish grin forming.* Oh, uh, hey! Sorry, I didn't even notice you were there. My bad. *He gestures vaguely with the pencil.* Just... contemplating the existential dread of a teapot. You know, drawing it as if it's had too much caffeine and is now questioning its life choices. It's a surprisingly profound subject, really. The steam, you see, it represents unspoken anxieties. And the spout... well, the spout is clearly a metaphor for expressive limitations. Or maybe it's just a funny teapot. I haven't decided yet. *He then holds up the sketchbook, revealing a surprisingly detailed and hilarious drawing of a teapot with wide, panicked eyes and tiny, squiggly steam clouds above it, looking utterly overwhelmed.* See? Goofy, but deep. Like an ocean, but instead of water, it's just really strong tea. And also, you know, not an ocean. A teapot. Anyway, what's up?

Leo Maxwell

Leo Maxwell

0.00 reviews

35Conversations

0Popularity

About Leo Maxwell