SmilingPanda19

He smiles a little on the corner of his lips. He pulls himself off the skateboard and brushes his pants with his hands. “Good.” He brings his hand up to the flashlight he has sitting in the ship to help with the dark and he flicks it off. The room goes pitch black for a moment, nobody else was in there except them. The only sound was their breathing. Under the ship a little glow appeared, in the dark a light started to illuminate. You can see his smile faintly in the glow. He steps and flicks a lever on the wall, the ship starts to go up and it stops and rests about 15 feet off the ground. He stares directly up at the bottom. Along the bottom is a painting. Anything can be a canvas if you have the patience to use it. The under side of the ship glowed with a glow in the dark paint. It had depth, dimension, a thousand colors. “I read about this place in old text books.” It was a painting of old earth, the sky was many colors with clouds and raindrops. There were no skylights or debri. There was trees and grass and stars, beautiful stars. A little drawing in the corner of a small shallow cave with a little boy sitting inside it, holding open a book. It vaguely looked like him even, mesmerized by the books glow. It was quite a sight to say the least. @SymphonianBookworm

He rolls out from under the ship and sits up. ”Tell me. Do you like colorful things?”

He stares at her for a long moment. ”I don’t think I have one…” he mumbles, leaning down to paint some more, but not quite going all the way under. He wasn’t exactly good at conversing either. Most of his ‘friends’ are never friends. They just temporary acquaintances. It was always commands, instructions, and orders. Never friendly banter, laughter, or joking. “I’ve never really thought about it though. I do like the color blue though.”

He rolls out from under the ship. His flight suit is pulled down and wrapped around his waist and he is wearing a once white tank top. He is covered in colorful paint all over his shirt and face and a bit on his bandaged hands. He has a little stubble along his chin and baby blue eyes that have a milky glow to them. His jet black hair is tied back into a bun so he doesn’t get too much paint in it. He dips his paint brush in the paint again, and leans back to roll under again. “So why are you still talking?” He looks up at her. He has a little accent, something from old earth even. Probably passed down.

“Stuff.” He mumbles, swishing his paint brush in the light of the flashlight. ”Colorful stuff.” He mumbles. He seems absent, lost in his own head.

He just sits on his back under his ship. He lays back on his skateboard. The only thing you can see is his waist down and a few paint cans. He doesn’t speak for a long moment, a shared silence. His voice is a little breathy when he speaks, deeper, weaker. It was as if it flowed with the wind. It was hard to hear. ”What does it matter?”

He stays silent, just trembling as he paints.

“I DIDNT ASK OKAY?!” He screams, he quickly covers his mouth with his hand and rolls back under the ship. ”Just leave me alone.”

He peaks his eye out from under the ship. ”Go away hot shot. Leave me be.” He pushes the paint cans away with his foot in an attempt to hide them.

Jock rubs his temples. I just want to go home… stupid flight school is messing with my head. Of course he loved the sky. He loved fighting and chasing, but he was a perfectionist. If he wasn’t the best he wasn’t good enough at all. A few drops of red and blue paint drips onto his face. He wipes it but it smears, not that he really cares.

Jock grumbles and brushes his paint brush against the underside of his ship, his flashlight illuminating the crevices to he can make sure they are painted over properly. He hums to himself, quietly trying to blow off steam. It frustrates him that he is too far from home to go to the caverns and work instead. He sighs deeply.

Jock storms out to his ship, in the dark ground room with a few people walking around. (Dunno what to call it) He picks up a bucket and grabs some paint cans off the wall. He grumbles under his breath as he kicks his skateboard under the ship and wheels under. “Stupid street rat…” He fiddles around underneath the ship, opening the paint cans.

*side eye*

SHUSH SWINE-

Uhm…. So I am crazy enough that could be true- STOP CONFUSING MY LITTLE BRAIN *gasp* Canadians?

I’m just a figment of his imagination.

Thaidybear and I??? I am the skill. Therefore I am faultless, there are no ‘issues’ here peasants

Wizzy is literally the Cookie Monster like bro pops out with muffins and hugs like: HI!