so anyway, I have become inspired again and decided to draw and write a bit more
And then I decided to post a TEASER PAGE. This is how Ahzzya and Rokko are probably going to meet
little teaser for all my favorite dorks ^///^ wrote:Every other flight of stairs was a door labeled with a number. The numbers each descended as Ahzzya laboriously brought the suitcase down step by step. 7. 6. That was the floor he was supposed to go to, but he had to drop off his suitcase. He let out a groan. He had to go down four more flights of stairs and then back up? He trudged forward, annoyance prickling along his spine. 5. 4. 3. 2. The stairs descended onward, but he couldn’t see much further. The lights seemed to dim as the world descended into darkness. Ahzzya’s curiosity was overshadowed by a complete lack of motivation. It’s not like he wanted to walk any more than he had to. He opened to door to see a large plain room filled with small, neat beds. Trunks sat at the base of each one, some opened to see clothes, remains of smuggled snacks, and other possessions. Bedside tables with lamps and alarm clocks sat at the side of each bed. He started down the rows, his wheeled suitcase dragging besides him, thumping with every tile edge it passed over. Upon further inspection, the room wasn’t as clean as he had expected. Dirty clothes had been kicked under beds, the covers were rumpled; he even saw the corner of a magazine under a pillow. On one of the trunks he saw an old cow stuffed animal. Dirty and well used, curiously his hand reached forward to touch it. Certainly they didn’t bunk girls and boys together, but was there really someone young enough to own a stuffed animal. His fingers picked at the cow’s ear.
“Please don’t” An unfamiliar voice cut through the air sending a jolt of fear through Ahzzya. He jumped back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that… this cow is yours?” His phrase melted into a question as he saw the boy. He was laying on his back with his arms crossed over his eyes. Blue hair fanned out from his head, and he looked older than Ahzzya.
“My little sister’s. She gave it to me for Christmas a while ago.” He said. It made sense, Ahzzya guessed, he didn’t have any siblings, but he supposed young ones would give childish presents.
Ahzzya shrugged, “I’m, uh, new here.” He started. “I came to find a place to put down my luggage but I don’t know which ones are and aren’t taken.” The boy with the blue hair took his arms off his face and pointed to the bed to the left of him. It was much neater than most other beds and there were no personal belongings. Ahzzya gave a murmur of thanks as he began unpacking the suitcase into the trunk. The less time he had to spend with “everyone else on the sixth floor” the better. Even the thought of crowds mad him hate this place more. Then a thought occurred to him. “Why are you just laying down here when the guard said everyone would be on the sixth floor?” Ahzzya asked, pausing with a folded shirt in his hand.
“I felt dizzy.” He said. “I thought I was going to pass out, so I was allowed to rest for a while.”
“Are you sick?” The question came out harsher than Ahzzya had meant. Luckily the boy just let out a mirthless laugh.
“Nothing contagious.” After that the conversation came to an awkward silence. Ahzzya finished packing his clothes and a few sheathed knives. Then he saw something he didn’t remember putting in his bag. A picture from before his dad left. The three of them stood hugging each other, happy smiles shining on their faces. Just like his own memories, the corner of the photo showing Ahzzya’s dead was faded and unrecognizable. Ahzzya pushed the picture to the bottom of the trunk beneath his clothes. All too soon he was finished unpacking. The thought of meeting with others filled him with fear. What if they were like the people in his school? The thought of having to deal with that abuse without a home to return to sent panic through his heart. Ahzzya sat on the bed and looked at his hands partially covered with his usual gloves.
“Aren’t going to go now?” The boy asked, not rude, just curious.
“I-I don’t like to be around a lot of people.” His voice cracked slightly as the end. He cleared his throat and looked away. The was a grunt and the creaking of the bed as the boy say up, his eyes, half closed in a squinted fashion. “Hm. My name’s Rokko.” Rokko yawned as he stretched out his hand to Ahzzya.
“Ahzzya.” Ahzzya to the hand in a firm shake. The fingers were cold and long. His hand felt thin, almost skeletal, though surprisingly strong. It reminded him of his mother’s hand. Now Ahzzya could actually look at the boy. Rokko looked… sick. His skin was pale, cold and grey, like a corpse. His long blue hair fell flat and lifeless over his shoulders, the roots at the top looked to be a dark grey. But the most striking feature, were the eyes. Clouded blue, like Rokko was going blind, but they were focused like a predator’s, locked on Ahzzya’s eyes.
and here is a little illustration of Rokko being sleepy
cute sleepy Rokko
and sadness you can tell an author's favorite character by the amount of pain she puts them through
