[center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjExNi5mODAwMDAuVW05b2FYUWdRVzFoY2cuMA/blackchancery.regular.webp[/img]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/RckTIZf.jpeg[/img][/center]
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[color=red]Time:[/color] 11am
[color=red]Location:[/color] Sorian Art Gallery
[color=red]Interactions:[/color] Milo St. Claire [@PapaOso]
[center][url=https://i.imgur.com/3bWRxbY.jpeg]Attire[/url][/center]
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[color=red]“...Caught in the jaws of an entity they couldn’t quite escape,”[/color] Rohit repeated the phrase thoughtfully. [color=red]“That entity has quite the bite.”[/color] He winked as his hand shot forth, the gold around his wrist rattled with the swift movement. The warm lighting glistened against his jade and gold ring as he shook the artist’s hand. Mahogany eyes regarded Milo as a captivating work of art that nearly rivaled the collection displayed around the gallery. [color=red]“Rohit Amar; admirer of masterpieces.”[/color] He introduced himself with a smile that matched Milo’s warmth as he released the artist’s precious hand. The very thing that had crafted every awe-inspiring creation here. 

[color=red]“You, sir, are a talent unlike any I’ve seen. Managing to find something sublime in the darkest places. Painted it all in a way that brought me to the brink of understanding things I have never quite felt. It's an honor to meet you.”[/color] He glanced back at the exhibit he only half-understood and decided that despite the uncomfortable nature of the work, he would need to revisit it on another day, once his thoughts had settled some. Once was not enough to fully grasp it all. 

[color=red]“If I were to walk through that room alone I think I might weep from the overwhelming emotions you’ve captured.”[/color] He looked back at Milo, someone so bright, warm, and composed. It was easy to imagine the man in front of him crafting the portraits and sculptures he’d seen, but a challenge to envision him being consumed by the darkness of The Whisper. Nearly impossible to see Milo as the figure who sat so hopelessly alone, surrounded by shattered things, close to being lost in a dying light. But who else could the subject of such a personal piece be, but the artist himself? He continued speaking even as his thoughts wandered.  

[color=red]“I almost envy the depths of your experience, as odd as that sounds. To envy another’s suffering, as if privilege has robbed me of something I should desire...”[/color] He paused. A sudden thought crossed his mind. Rohit related more closely to the sculptures than anything else he’d seen; something frozen in a single moment and unable to continue a dance. 

[color=red]“Ah, there I go. Rambling on about myself, apologies, Mr. St. Claire. Enjoying your big day? Basking in your well-earned spotlight?”[/color] Rohit asked shifting into a more pleasant exchange. [/color]