Ishade's study

pandakatiefominz

pandakatiefominz

Wraith
This is a well-lit room with dark wood paneling floors. Inside there's a small desk with writing utensils, including some for calligraphy. There's also a couch by the window, a big bookshelf full of thick volumes, with at least some classics and an encyclopedia. On the floor there is a white piece of fabric, stained with paint. On it there's an advanced easel, painting supplies etc. The windows look to the garden, and it connects to Ishade's bedroom.
 
The door slowly creaked open and in stepped Mitch, with soft footfalls upon the fine wood paneling. His nose crinkled. The smell of paint hit his nose as strong as it ever did whenever he came into this study when Ishade was at work. He went over to observe some of the unfinished works on the easels. One appeared to be pushed to the side and consisted of a half-complete rendering of a woman. Mitch thought it likely that this was just a commission; Ishade was a wonderful artist, but it wasn't terribly common that his personal work involved much of the mundane.

No, of course there was another work that appeared to have been recently touched upon, as it was sitting upon the tarp and the paint still looked fresh. It was a dark, intangible work with broad strokes and gloomy colours contrasted by the more delicate pastels. Mitch observed this canvas closer. Not that he was a master of art interpretation, but this seemed like a sort of catharsis; these were frustrated, heavy strokes that went long, almost like slash marks on the canvas. He slowly inhaled through his nose, and stepped back from the easel. Ishade did seem troubled today, but maybe something deeper was going on than he knew about? Regardless, Mitch stepped away and sat down at the couch. He didn't want his wandering eyes to fall upon something that may have been too sensitive. He sighed and drummed his fingers along the armrest as he awaited Ishade's arrival.
 
It wasn't long until the door opened again. In came Ishade, with cake crumbs on the side of his mouth and over his top, some even clung to his pants. The cake was soft and spongy, and he was a messy eater sometimes.

He looked tired, his strange eyes the color of amethyst did at least. But he definitely was more relaxed than he was at dinner, and didn't spare his paintings a single glance before his eyes locked on Mitch.

"Hey" He said as a greeting, soft. He wanted to be nice, and sound nice, but Ishade Luseth wasn't either of those things. He didn't know how to be that. It didn't last, his smile dissipated and he just walked over to the couch where Mitch was also sitting. He gracelessly flopped on the opposite side to Mitch's, wanting to give him space. Then he hesitated and scooted a bit closer. The other had enough space already, Ishade didn't want to make it look like he just plain didn't want to be near him.

"I'm bad at talking, I think it's been... Established, I just wanted to know if you're okay. Because ever since this morning I've had this itch in my brain that you aren't. And then I haven't had the best day either.... Ugh." He sighed, wincing at just how terrible he was with his words. He got on his knees on the couch and reached to open the windows wide. He let the air in, and the smell of paint and various chemicals out. One big breath and a deep sigh. It wasn't that much but it did help him feel slightly better.

"What I mean to say is.... You're important to me. So if- if there is something bothering you, do you want to talk about it?. B-because I do want to help in whatever way. Even if it's just uhh listening? Or we could just smoke, I know that would help me at least for a little while." He said. It was easier when he wasn't looking at Mitch while he talked, and just gazing through the window instead. But at the end, he did turn to look at the other man for a bit, clearly conflicted. Because maybe Mitch was fine and this was all paranoia. If he was actually fine and it was just Ishade's own issues getting sort of projected onto others then he'd just... Jump out the window into the garden, and then go horse riding for a bit. Probably. Or maybe not at all.
 
CW: Verbal Abuse

Mitch watched silently as Ishade walked into the study and sat down with some distance across from him at the couch. He knew Ishade had some issue interacting with people, and he didn't take it personally. He knew Ishade well, or at least as well as he could over the course of three years, and as much as he permitted. Mitch could see in his eyes that he, too, was tired and rather troubled, but clearly he felt more at peace in his proverbial cave.

He looked at Ishade quietly as he spoke, and though Mitch noticed he wasn't looking back, he didn't break the imaginary eye contact. Though Ishade was checking to see if Mitch was okay, Mitch couldn't help but feel more concerned for him in return. Besides, Mitch had never really put his current predicament properly into words. Where would he even begin?

Brief pangs of memories flashed across Mitch's mind. Memories of his original home. Memories of his mother and father... Then just his father... Then himself. The words ran through his head coarsely and violently. Family. The bloodline. Expectations. Failure. Disappointment. Where did she go? Why can't I make him proud? I've failed them both. Now Dark. Now Luka. It's time to start a family, Mitchell. Why can't you just shut up and make your parents happy? Ma would be rolling in her grave if she saw you now, Mitchell. The McCowells are a proud bloodline and you're going to squander it for your own selfish fantasies? I knew we should have had another kid while we still had the chance.

Mitch blinked his eyes tightly and suddenly, and then opened them back up. "Oh, the stress of the new tenants always puts everyone on edge, y'know." His voice was calm despite the brief episode. "I'm uh... I'm not particularly good with traditional family stuff, I guess." Whatever. There was no point letting everyone else know how much of a disappointment you are.

"You know, I hate to sound like Abel, but kids scare me. Stiff, traditional values make me a bit antsy. I don't hate them, of course, but I worry that I always say the wrong things or act the wrong way. I don't know if that makes sense." He sighed. "I'm obviously not the only one here who's got something on their mind, though. Did something else happen?"
 
He watched Mitch, feeling more at ease during it while the other's eyes were closed. He listened to the few words he had to say, putting as much attention as he dared on his friend. When the conversation got turned around, and it was his turn to... What? Confess his sins? It wasn't something else as it was everything piling up.

He moved closed to Mitch on the couch, still sitting the wrong way and looking out the window. He wanted to talk, but if he started talking about his concerns then he wouldn't be able to stop until he was done listing them all. And he didn't even know how to phrase it, because he suddenly had a knot in his throat that didn't let the words pass, not the way he wanted them. He sort of leaned against Mitch, for the little comfort it could give him.

"I think I understand the way you feel, it makes a lot of sense to me at least. There's... I..." He sighed, resting his arms on the back of the couch and then his head on his arms.

"Luka, he turned his life inside out so I could... For me so I can do what he couldn't do but I'm not doing it. And he shouldn't have. And sometimes Mrs. Dunham talks to me like it's going to solve everything, and it doesn't. I don't get along with people, but I'm supposed to meet a nice girl and start a family. And the last time I fell in love it wasn't even with... I've never met a woman I liked. It all just piles on and on, and there's a lot. And then I'm moody and snappy and terrible to people. But I can't ... Jesus Christ. I don't talk, I paint." He growled, turning a bit to point at the canvas currently on the easel. He really was a mess, and here he was trying to do something nice for a friend without trying to solve his own issues first. It was a bit easier to talk about his problems when he talked about how they affected other people, or similar.

"I'm not mad at you I promise. Just bad at this shit." He breathed out at the end.
 
Mitch leaned back against Ishade, sensing that the comfort was needed right now. He listened quietly. It gave Mitch a bit of solace knowing that these feelings were mutual between the two of them, albeit a bittersweet solace. Of course, he didn't intend to just turn the tables on Ishade, but he also feared speaking too much about his baggage. He's supposed to be the pillar. He's supposed to mediate. That's his purpose.

Mitch shut his eyes as he listened to Ishade describe his troubles with love, family, and Luka's strife. His breathing was slow and minimal, and he moved very little, almost like a large, warm stuffed animal. After Ishade was finished, Mitch sat in the silence for a good ten seconds, letting the air settle.

"I don't think you're bad with people." Mitch spoke in a low, smooth voice. "Just because you need to take your time with new people doesn't make you bad with them. It means that you're careful." He looked over to the easel that Ishade pointed at, studying it from the distance he was at. "There's no reason to rush yourself into a relationship or into a family. You don't want to sacrifice the rest of your life for something you don't truly believe in." It seemed Mitch was more trying to talk to himself at this point. His voice wavered subtly. It was apparent to a perceptive ear that he didn't have much confidence in his words, but he wanted so damn bad to be the support his friend needed, despite himself.
 
When Mitch leaned back against him, Ishade hummed softly and pressed back in return. He did miss this, simple contact with another person. It made him feel better, like he wasn't a hollowed out ice statue. He was just another person, if a little lonely. So he adjusted his posture until his head was resting partially on Mitch's shoulder.

"I'm terrible with people, and even worse when I don't like them. You're just used to me or something, and I like you." He said, laughing s little bit. It was something he was sure of, that he wasn't good at socialising.

"I had a talk with Luka once, about how he used to feel the same way. As in... Scared of what was coming when he was like twenty something. Apparently it's pretty normal to feel like you're just never going to do anything worth it, or that the whole family thing is scary. I wasn't so sure back then, because he always seems like he knows what to do. But I guess if you also understand this, Lu was probably right. It is normal. Even if that doesn't really make it less sca-" He interrupted himself. He had been in a sort of awkward position earlier leaning against Mitch, wanting to get closer, but now he slipped and ended with half his torso on the other man's lap. It was so ridiculous he stayed right there and started laughing instead.
 
Mitch couldn't help but laugh as Ishade practically ended up collapsing onto his lap. It certainly was a compromising position to be in, but Mitch didn't push him away; it was nice to be able to relieve the tension and laugh a bit. "Well then, make yourself comfortable, I guess," Mitch teased, still chuckling. He took a deep breath and leaned back, tilting his head back and looking up at the ceiling.

"You know, Isha, I think we all got a pretty good thing going on here. Of course starting a family is scary, but nobody is here to tell us that we have to do it now or how we should go about doing it." Mitch's voice was tranquil, and his breathing was slow. "And just because the people around us are getting into it, that doesn't mean we have to follow along. We're living our own lives and taking it at our own pace." Mitch relaxed into the couch. He was still recovering from his episode, but his nerves were settling and he felt a little less isolated.
 
"Oh well, don't mind if I do!" said Ishade in response to Mitch, shifting a bit to be more comfortable but otherwise staying right on his lap. He was teasing, of course, but he really was comfortable, so he stayed. He stretched his back a bit with a hum as Mitch talked, and closed his eyes. Looking up at the other while in this position sort of made his face burn, and he preferred if it didn't.

"Yeah I'm in no hurry for that. Oh, and I do want to hear more about you being... On the road. It sounds like an experience I'd like to try sometime, if only because I want to have lived it. I don't know how much sense I'm making. But let me know the next time you're thinking of travelling like that, and if you want, if it's alright, I could maybe join you?" He suggested, opening his eyes to at least see his friend's expression when he said it.
 
Mitch paused for a little bit, still a bit unsure of himself when it came to talking about his travels again, but then he nodded slowly.

"If you're willing to tag along, then I'd be happy to have you," he finally spoke, a light smile on his face. "Of course, what I do is... A little bit dangerous. I do a lot of trainhopping and sneaking into ships. I got caught when I was younger, and, uh..." He trailed off, and rolled his shoulders back. "But if you're okay with taking that risk, it's a lot of fun." He looked down at Ishade. "There's a sort of cleansing feeling to just getting absolutely lost in the country, or even the world. Just a completely new environment. None of the worries of your old one. You direct where you want to go, and you choose the people you want to meet and the cultures you want to mesh with." The wanderlust was evident in Mitch's eyes.
 
And if he looked down he'd see just how delighted Ishade was, just to hear him and see him like this. He rested his right hand on Mitch's shoulder, still laying halfway on his lap like an idiot. But a comfortable idiot. And then he laughed a bit, quietly.

"Aw man, you make me want to go already! If you're willing to deal with me stopping to sketch the most... Unexpected things, I'll follow you anywhere. It's like you said, it's our life and we gotta live it at our own pace, right?. A bit of danger sounds more exciting than anything, honestly. Probably because there's none of that here." He said, looking as excited as a child and giving Mitch's shoulder an affectionate squeeze. Now he had something else to look forward to, and hopeful feelings to channel into his art. Something to challenge his inner darkness for a change.
 
Mitch nodded. "I think I can live with that." He smiled dryly. "There is very little in the way of danger here. I think the most dangerous thing in Juniper Hollow may just be the horses," he said with a laugh. He reached up to Ishade's hand and gave it a pat.

Mitch yawned and stretched his arms out. "Well, I'm probably going to go up to the terrace and have a smoke, and then I'll retire for the night. It's been nice to talk this out a bit, y'know." Ishade may have been colder and more distant when they first met, but he was a good friend, and certainly a valuable one. In the end, all Mitch wanted is for others to be happy. He couldn't help but be a little concerned about Ikanov. He knew he would be coming back later tonight -- he always does -- but it was clear to Mitch that the new tenants caused him some distress. Though, it's obvious that everyone was in a bit of disarray over the new additions.
 
The younger Luseth agreed with a nod and a chuckle, letting Mitch's hand rest on his for a moment before he finally decided to move.

"Alright alright, I'll release you!" He said, joking, and lazily sat up with a yawn. However, he wasn't even close to going to bed. Not yet.

"I'd join you, but I've gathered some inspiration from our talk, which I agree has been good. Feel free to come in here anytime, if I'm working you can just nap. That and it's sort of a safe spot in case people are being overwhelming or annoying." He said, standing up and going to the shelf where he stored his pigments. Time to mix some pinks and blues with white. It didn't occur to him that other than Ikanov he had never really given anyone freedom to come into his study as often as they pleased.

"I'll definitely have time tomorrow though, so if you like, I'll smoke with you tomorrow night.?" He said, two glass containers in his hands. Some of the colors were toxic, and had to be handled with care, but he was used to it. He wasn't using cadmium yellow yet though. Maybe later.
 
Mitch got up from the couch with a deep exhale, and cracked his neck. "I'll hold ya to it," Mitch replied to Ishade with a smile. He joked, but it was a major step that Ishade was comfortable with him being in his study, and it gave Mitch a warm feeling in his chest. He just looked on at Ishade for a moment, and then the easel where his most recent work was.

"I'd be happy to smoke with you tomorrow," he finally said after a bit of a silence. He went up to Ishade and gave him a gentle pat on the back. "I'll see you then." With that, Mitch stepped silently out of the door and shut it quietly behind him.
 
He wondered if he would actually come to his study one day only to find Mitch inside. It was... Doubtful, that the other would actually show up. But now it was at least a possibility, and Ishade was happy to share what he had. His space was very dear to him.

"See you then! He said, with his back to the door already and more focused on whether he should be mixing cyan and mint or ultramarine and evergreen. He did appreciate and like the little pat, though, and looked forward to the next night when they got to chill together up on the terrace.
 
Later that day, with the window only slightly open and too much darkness in the room to paint, Ishade watched a curious exchange that was happening live in the garden. He had been thinking, half sitting on the couch half laying down. His thoughts unherded, running free and split between what It'd be like to run off with Mitch, the dangers of cadmium yellow and the fact that he had run out of rabbit tail gum.

Then Dark had come out to the garden looking sour and abandoned, like a kicked puppy only way worse. Much worse actually, in fucking mourning. He had sat down and then he was doing...something Ishade couldn't quite see. The man looked absolutely miserable, shoulders down, defeated. Nothing terrible could have happened here at the house, because then Luka would know and he would have come get Ishade to deal with it. Terrible things often required being rude or thinking fast.

Anyway, he had just quietly watched Dark being sad. Then fucking Ikanov showed up out of nowhere, so Ishade slightly opened his window. Unsurprisingly Abel was wasted, being rude and coming onto Dark way too strongly. Somehow the man was either ignoring him or it was going over his head completely. But clearly Abe was out for blood, the feisty little shit, because he was starting to low-key insult Ivy and Ishade had suspicions it could get worse. So he got ready to leap to Dark's aid, or more like Abel's aid, if it became necessary.
 
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