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The Illegal Generation

The Art Shop


a part of The Illegal Generation, by MuteEcho.

The place where Stephen resides and works

MuteEcho holds sovereignty over The Art Shop, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

160 readers have been here.


Stephen's art workshop and gallery for his sculptures
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The Art Shop

The place where Stephen resides and works


The Art Shop is a part of Project21.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Stephen Miles
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#, as written by Aramay

Half-sculpted models; covered in plastic sheets to keep them from drying out, rested on shelves against the walls. A work table sits close to one of the walls with a faceless human bust resting on the center of the table. Small hands knead at a lump of clay. Stephen's fingers open to allow the kneaded piece rise into the air and separate into smaller pieces. Each piece forms into a different facial feature. They then push onto the faceless sculpture of a man that he was told he had to finish making a prototype sculpture for by the end of the day. It matched the photo almost perfectly. Only, his expression wasn't quite right. Instead of him looking proud and confident, he looked stern and angry. Stephen gasps and steps back, startled at the expression on the clay bust. He waves his hand and the expression changes to look sad. It changes again to look more goofy. Stephen tilts his head watching as he made the bust make faces. More clay from the table re-shapes itself to look like a set of hands to further aid the clay head and chest with continuing to demean itself of its dignity.

The boy is startled again when he hears scanners nearby. His hand immediately went to the bracelet; scratching nervously at where it was rubbing against his skin. He nervously looks out the window. He pauses and waits anxiously for them to leave when he returns to the work table. He looks at the sculpture again. It was back to a harsh scowl, no, even more scornful before as though it was angry that Stephen made it do those things. Stephen's brows furrowed in agitation.

A large barrel filled with clay with a layer of several inches of water at the top sat in the center of the room. It was set to age, made from past failed sculptures to help cure the new mixture to make it more malleable and sticky to work with. The clay slowly rose from the drum to form a ball at the top of its stalk. Its weight came down on top of the sculpture just as it looked up and began to make a more fearful expression before it was squished underneath the much wetter blobbish ball of clay. The wet clay lost its shape and seemingly melted; plopping down back into the drum as well as on the floor and table. Stephen exhaled a sigh of relief. Glad that he was rid of seeing the adult's face. He hated seeing representations of adults let alone the real thing.

His relief was short lived however when he realized that he still needed to finish a sculpture for the adult who hired him to sculpt it. A tapping on the window makes him nearly jump out of his skin. He motions his hands for all of the clay to get back into the barrel before he could even think to look where the noise was coming from. Turning around he noticed that it wasn't coming from the door but the window. Several birds sat perched just outside and were tapping on the glass. He tilted his head at the new curious sight. They reminded him of something. All at once his eyes lit up in both acknowledgement and fear.

In an instant he raced to grab his water proofed bag. Slinging it over his shoulders he motions for the clay to get into his bag. In his haste he grabs too much and ends up falling onto his back. He forgot how heavy it was for him to physically carry and he couldn't simply focus on taking the weight off his back. It was like trying to keep a muscle constantly flexed. One little distraction and he would end up on his back again. He tries again. This time with half the amount of clay about the size of a basketball. He hoped that it would be enough to get him by. The rest he would have to hope that there was enough dirt around for him to use though it wasn't his medium of choice.

He slips out after checking to make sure that no one else is looking. He moves from section to section all the while lightening the weight with each spurt of running to help avoid him from getting tired too quickly. It would have been easier to simply create a huge golem for him to travel in but that would attract too much attention. It wouldn't be long before Ewan's greenhouse was in his sights. He just hoped that he didn't arrive there too late. He could already see a bunch of vines covering a hole in the greenhouse.