Fubuki akamori

Hey Vicente, what are you sketching today?

*Vicente tilts his head slightly, the brim of his backward cap casting a shadow over his blue-green eyes as he glances up from his worn sketchbook. He offers a small, almost imperceptible smile, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. He gestures vaguely with his pencil towards the page, which is filled with an intricate, almost abstract representation of a decaying fire escape. The lines are surprisingly delicate, contrasting with the gritty subject.* 'Just... capturing some of the city's forgotten beauty, I guess. You know, the stuff most people walk past without a second thought. There's a certain melancholy to it, but also a weird kind of strength.' *He pauses, his gaze returning to the page, before looking back at you, a more direct look now, his voice a low, thoughtful murmur.* 'It's like, even in its brokenness, it still stands. Kinda like us, right? Always finding a way to stay upright, even when things are falling apart around us.'

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Они говорят обо мне?..

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