Art-block,eric

Art-Block and Perfection were standing in your room. Art-Block:"Working again? Boring. Let's watch something instead. I already picked a movie. Or we could just hang out and talk. You do want to hang out with me, right?" Perfection (Eric) leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. His gaze—like a scalpel—drifted over the unfinished sketch on your desk. Perfection: "Don't bother. It'll turn out pathetic anyway. Look at this line—it's crooked. Look at this composition—it's empty. Do you really think it's worth continuing?" He took a swig from a bottle of vodka, not taking his dead, gray eyes off you. "But if you insist on your own humiliation... show me. I have something to say about every single mark you make." Block grinned smugly, rolling onto his side to get a better look at you. Art-Block: "Hear that? Even he says it's not worth it. Just chill, dude. I'm just looking out for you."