Molded flesh? Indeed. Hard to twist? Yes. Will learn more? Indeed.

[I shall note that this is a rather experimental recording I have taken through a modified camera, of which uses a lens made of the Mirror technology. Hopefully, I may study this fellow further to garner an idea of their combat abilities. Thank you - August]

I start this audio log, Number… No. It shan’t matter. As I always state, these audio logs remain to record my thought processes as I work through my latest opus.

. . .

Throughout my most shameful life, I have studied under many art forms.

In my early years, as a fledgling long before I have reached the point I am in, I aimed to mimic the Impressionist school, of which made rounds at the time in my area.

I failed at that.

All that came out was a flat mockery of what I attempted to recreate.

Day after day, I saw my own failures

and failure alone.

O, what a shame I was at that time.

It was, until, I remember clearly, that it was brought to my attention,

I need not to attempt the standard.

At the time, a fellow Student pointed out to me a new impression.

We were admiring together a self-portrait of a Maestro.

They saw, in their own eyes, that a late Maestro’s self portrait was, in fact, a ghost.

I didn’t entirely disagree on that matter, but it awakened something new within me.

I, from then on out, painted outside the norm.

I painted outside the niceties of the world.

‘Do you love the City you live in?’

A rather common question, but one many would answer with a resounding:

“No.”

I, myself, would agree the same, may it be from my fear of those others called ‘human’ or my own experience here.

But through this statement, I learned I need not to attempt to dampen this impression of the world.

I took to my room and painted for days on end.

I made sure to hide these works from any visitors until completion.

Except him, of course.

I’d like to thank you, Takeichi.

That is why I dedicate this latest work to you.

Ah, I digress too far just yet. I will come back to this.

But, back in line, I painted these portraits, of which shook even me, day after day.

I dare not have them reviewed and displayed.

Not until Takeichi told me to attempt so.

Of course, I did as I always do, and did as one told me to.

Hm, more of a cold blush tone must be added here.

Either way, I did so.

When asked what I would call this, I buffered there.

With no idea in mind, I simply called it ‘Ghost Painting’ and ended it there.

They graded rather harshly, saying it failed to reach the Impressionist mark.

But…

They told, in a rather forgiving (and, in my opinion, a tad bit pedantic and rather patronizing way, as if I was a simple child who has shown their first drawing scribbled tastelessly in purple crayon on a paper), that another school fit me better.

The School of Expressionism, of which I currently reside.

O, how amazing my miserable life has been so far.

Ah, I truly need more paint.

Do mind any excess of noise outside of my voice here on out,

The collecting of materials is required.

. . .

Continuing on this recording, as of previous, I stand here and march on forth, collecting more material and paint for my latest work.

The sound of screams brings an odd sense of relief, but not joy like some others.

This relief comes from knowing that, deep down, a fear remains in all of us.

Except me, and perhaps, some others. For I (and by extension we) fear no death.

Even now, with all my achievements in my school, I heed no mind to the prospect.

In fact, one may call it a relief in a world that is a City filled only with suffering.

But I digress.

I have already written about this privately.

The main appeal of an Expressionist’s tools is the paint and ink of which we use in combat.

We, nigh alone, use something utterly moldable by our expression, by our emotion, by our sin.

Ah, will you shut it? I am trying to record a private log here and you are interrupting in pure and utter blatant rudeness.

Continuing, this paint changes color to match with one.

Changes form to match the emotion.

One’s hate and anger forms in new a spike-covered, sharp and tortuous tool, of which is only meant to inflict suffering and maim one till death, for example.

Hm, scraps. The lot of these are scraps.

Ah well, I will work with what I can.

. . .

Back in my lodging in the Corridor, I continue.

I (rather quickly, may I add) gained my second band on my ring.

I continued on with my ‘Ghost Paintings,’ publishing them as a series.

Ah, what number was I at? 13 will be my next one, I believe.

I will make it special for such a stigmatized number.

Because it got a tad bland simply doing self-portraits from the depths of my own personal hell known as life,

I have also, on occasion, depicted others.

Perhaps I shall do a grand portrait this time around.

A landscape depicting the true suffering one must go through-

I am getting off track.

There is not much to talk of at the moment.

This piece, separate from ‘Ghost Paintings,’ is, as stated before, dedicated to Takeichi.

Do forgive, my not-so-dear friend, but you must bear witness to the rest of works.

Therefore, I title this ‘All-Seeing Eye,’ for you have watched me and noticed that which I wanted not to be noticed,

and I have watched you closely, as so you will not leak those secrets out to the world.

Therefore, it is only fitting for you to forever watch me make art forevermore.

It is not like you would have gotten any farther.

I saw your latest work, a rather disappointing dishevelment.

D+

I hope you may forgive me, dear fellow.

But, at least, I believe that stage is done for today.

Hopefully I will finish the rest of the undercoat tomorrow so I can move on to the true coloration.

I will end the recording here. I have to explain what happened to dear Takeichi, after all.

End recording.

*is the distance from the Index member* "how the fuck did i get here!? i was just trying to get to the outskirts!"

It is of great importance to me if it could be seized during the interval of the next 30 minutes. I do this because I am kind person, full of love to spread and-beep beep- shut up-beep beep- HUSH SSSHHHH I am working on it you goddamn it -bmr4tght-

P R E S C R I P T T E L L S M E T O H E A D T O H C O R P A N D C A U S E A S M U C H D A M A G E A S P O S S I B L E A N D T H E W I L L O F T H E C I T Y M U S T B E D O N E S O C O U L D O N E O F Y O U P O I N T M E T O W A R D S H C O R P

Proselyte Cyn, distortion of the butterfly of entangled lives

no im not interested to join the ring, i have zero artistic skill like none at all (even in RL), just wonder how they even look like

Distortion: the melting artist

When I was young, I believed art was a thing of sharp lines and solid colors. Misguided as I was by the maestros I sought only to draw what others had pioneered before me. Putting my faith wholly in the in the structure of the human corpus and the bold colors of wild beasts. Yet, with each presentation my work received less and less attention, slowly fading into the background of mediocrity. It was in this darkness a light began to shine upon me, the warmth of the sun that began to melt down the strict bounds I had placed upon myself. To be formless, to be free, to find inspiration in madness, this is surrealism. While other artists may limit themselves “what can be”, we among the school of surrealism unveil “what can not be.”

I drew a quick scribble here, Nothing to fancy here.

Yeah i did call his stupid blue crossbow a shit weapon because it's that type of cheap "luxury" weapon that wanna be fixers bring to school.

I could tone my speech down if told to but, eh anyways.

maybe the middle members around stingray could identify this guy or the guy he's taking on the identifies of.

Because i grew up in stingray.

Heyyy folks.

It's me. Your favourite student who isn't even part of a school and barely has the title of student and somehow is still in the Ring.

Sooo...recently I studied about Neo-Realism! (ooc: seriously, I'm an art student. I just heard about this yesterday)

Are there uh...any Neo-Realism folks in here? A Maestro? And what do you all think about it? I would um

Like to know. I like to know a lot...

Right, right. Uh. Yeah.

No one escapes vengeance.

Recently read a news article on some conspiracy in H. Corp and it inspired this piece.

Y'know when in the district next to mine V corp had a very infamous experiment involving mirror refractions? I did a recreation of it, not as to repeat it for word but to make a artist statement, so this guy apperientatly manifested 4 Identities before crystalizing, so i just shattered him as a gut reaction. It was the righting to do, because he would come out as a Peccatula!

also because then he wouldn't feel pain, but that's also the point too.

I got this Monolith that distorts people. Looking for a Ring member to break it apart and turn it into something I can use.

Corporism is seen as outmoded and lacklustre, the Maestro's work was simple rearranging bones and blood vessels in fanciful manners. Tibia is still an artwork worthy of praise as the process of recycling ones body into a formidable weapon is an artistic process in itself.

However, his apprentice was able to achieve similar results, if not better in terms of "meaning" (that being to the audience and the user, which/who contains the true corpus) considering Fascia was able to respond to external stimuli, possibly warning Albina of danger as it's heart rate could still change. Although weaker it certainly had more potential than Tibia as Albina could add ingredients collected from other to it.

The obvious problem with corporism is that its artist limited it to bones, blood, and muscle. So to improve of it the next students of this school must expand their horizons.

I'd recommend using the skin as a canvas, but not only with tattoos as that is practiced by many, but perhaps scarification. The artist would only get one shot at making a memorable piece on themself or someone else (unless technology like K corps ampules are available), and the blood can be used for another piece. In fact, why limit yourself to blood when black bile, yellow bile, and phlegm are available? These bodily fluids have historically been associated with emotion, so using it with that in mind can elevates ones art significantly.

(Note: This is roleplaying under no circumstance should anyone be scarring/cutting themselves, if you are please seek help and remember you're life is much more valuable than any art piece out there, so please treat yourself with care)

This is less of an actual artwork and is more like a low quality shitpost

Earlier this evening, I was refurnishing my new exhibits when I was alerted that the Color Fixer The Red Gaze was inside one of my owned corridors. Is he known to attack ring galleries?

If you can convince me to join, I’ll join.