Make me bleed the universe and gears ((Jesse))

[Ursula Wolfe]

Ursa looked at Jesse as he held that sketchbook and pencil in his hands, “Yeah,” she gave a confirmation as she also gave a slight nod of her head when he asked about the gray scale - or rather, just made the clarification of what she had said to him. There was something calming about the sound of the pencil working over the paper, the soft sound that it made. It almost inspired her to want to learn to draw herself, but she had never really been good at drawing. She had trouble with stick figures. Still, there was that sound, soothing, soft, it was almost enough to lull her to sleep. However, she didn’t actually close her eyes or go to sleep. Instead, she pulled one foot up, her knee against her chest as she wrapped her arms around her leg and rested her chin on her knee, her eyes on Jesse.

She watched as he glanced up at her from time to time. His glances made her wonder what he was thinking. Was he just looking at her to help with his image of the drawing? Was he expecting her to break down right in front of him? She wanted to, she wanted to break, to curl up and cry, to just let out all of her anger, all of her pain. And in a moment, the pain would be dealt with, but the anger? The sadness? The loneliness? No, those would not be so easily pulled from her like the pain would be. Perhaps he was just waiting for her to say something, but what? What was there to say? He had said that he wasn’t to keen on Jordan before, but before she had chalked it up to the fact that he was a connection to a woman who had betrayed him in the end. Or rather, one of the women who had betrayed him. She didn’t know, she wanted to ask, but at the same time, was it really her business? Would he actually tell her what he was thinking? Would he voice his thoughts if she asked?

As he cleared his throat, she lifted her sad gaze up to him. The fact that she was feeling as she was just made the blue of her eyes seem lifeless, it didn’t glitter or shimmer like that of ice or diamonds like they did when she was happy, when her heart was full. They were dull right now, making them almost appear grey in color, or even white. Her heart wasn’t full, it was shattered in a billion pieces. He spoke and she focused on him in that moment, her thoughts fading to the background into the shadows of her mind for that moment. She shifted in the way she was sitting, bringing her foot back down to the floor before moving a bit to look at the sketch that he was working on. She smiled. It was a true smile but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “That’s perfect so far Jesse. Thank you for this again.” She added the last bit, reaching out for a moment, almost tempted to touch the drawing but then pulling her hand back just as quickly as she had moved it forward.

“I still stand by what I said earlier though Jesse, you’re the only one I trust to do my ink. And so far, it seems you have the ability to read my mind when it comes to what I am envisioning for the tattoo.” She said as she relaxed back into her seat and brought her arms around herself again, holding herself for that moment, her head leaning to the side so that she could continue to watch him work on the drawing. If she thought it was going in the wrong direction she would tell him, but so far, he wasn’t, his direction was true.

“It’s probably none of my business, but can I ask something?” She started with a quiet and sad tone, she knew she probably wouldn’t like the answers he would give her, but at this moment, she needed pain, and in a way, this was just another way of feeling the physical pain she needed in this moment.

[Jesse Fforde]

Jesse laughed and shook his head.

It wasn’t that he could read minds – though that would definitely be a boon in this business. But years of trying to decipher what people had envisioned, to turn words into pictures, one could garner and become host to the skill to get a picture mostly right the first time around. He hoped that he was getting it right, and that Ursula wasn’t just trying to be agreeable. But he got the feeling that Ursula wouldn’t just blindly go along with something that she didn’t like. At least, he hoped his impression of her was right.

Her approval was all he needed to put his head down and continue; to keep shading and filling in the pieces with mechanical cogs and pumps, all mixed together with flesh and broken bone. A depth was slowly etched into the piece, a coherence to the machinery that made it look as if it could start turning, the processes ticking like a woman-sized clock. An automaton. Jesse was enjoying the image that Ursula had provided – though he knew he would enjoy the universe better. He already knew that he’d pull up an image on the computer; he’d copy it colour for colour. He’d make it the most realistic looking universe possible. And he’d do it all freehand. He enjoyed the challenge of freehand masterpieces. He enjoyed the moment they were finished, when he knew they were perfection.

They still had quite a few hours to go before then, however. Hours that they would spend alone, and it made sense that Ursula might want to ask personal questions. It made sense, given that her sole purpose for coming here, that she would want to speak in a deep and meaningful manner. At first, Jesse didn’t answer. At first, he continued to work as if he hadn’t heard the question. Did he really want her to ask him anything personal? These days, Jesse was a closed book. So many times had he been trampled after opening up to people – he didn’t really do personal. But there was no reason why he had to answer the question after it was uttered, and if he didn’t want to, he could just tell Ursula he preferred to keep it to himself. If she didn’t understand, then that was on her.

Eventually, he nodded.

”Shoot,” he said, even while he reached for the piece of tracing paper to lay over the top of the design that Ursula had approved. He had to trace it, now. Minimal shading, as the template that he would transfer to the skin.