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Claude Monet

"The colors... are pretty..."

0 · 415 views · located in The Whimsical Residence for Wayward Children

a character in “The WRFWC II”, as played by Alle9009

Description

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"...hi..?"





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Fᴀᴄᴇ α΄„ΚŸα΄€Ιͺᴍ ✦ Kyoma {Mikagura School Suite}
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[center]NAME~
"I was named after... an artist..."
Claude Oscar Monet

NICKNAME(S)~
"..." *shrugs*
Comet - first initials of his name, C.O.M, joined with the last two letters of his surname. The result is Comet.
Art - Claude paints too much to be healthy.
Sunny - Both for his gold hair and the irony of being unable to wake up early without the aid of an alarmclock loud enough to wake the whole house.

AGE~
"three more years left..."
15/fifteen

BIRTHDATE~
"...early..."
4 March

GENDER~
"... Guy."
Male

SEXUALITY~
"...um... never thought... about it..."
demisexual

SPECIES~
*gestures at himself as if to point out that he looks completely human,*
Human





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[center]EYE COLOR~
*gestures at eyes*
Flame orange-red

HAIR COLOR~
*gestures to the label of a tube of paint the same color as his hair*
sunny gold

APPEARANCE~
*waves a hand, gesturing to himself from head to toe*
With a perpetually sleepy, dreamy expression and a tendency to stay silent, Claude looks the image of a young artist who is both searching for inspiration and at peace with the world. Standing tall at 168cm with low average weight, he has a thin, looks-as-if-he-keeps-forgetting-to-eat body with deft, gentle hands with long elegant fingers, that are calloused with constant painting practice. With smooth pale skin, sunny gold hair in a somewhat spiky haircut framing a slim face, with eyes that match the vivid color of a dark red flame, Claude can be called attractive, especially when he's either sleeping or focused on painting. He looks delicate then, fragile yet vibrant, not quite of this world. However, the ethereal look is brought closer to earth by the constant paint smeared on his face and clothes and skin, along with messy hair. Claude also has a star mark on his cheek that's constantly changing colors.

With messy hair and rumpled clothes, Claude often looks as if he'd just woken up and forgot to change out of his pyjama's. He doesn't really care what he wears, often just sticking to simple shirts, jeans and sneakers, but they will more often than not be covered in smears of paint and he will always be found carrying a pouch attached to his belt that's filled with paints, pencils, brushes, and a place for a small sketchbook.

PERSONALITY~
{Dreamy, Quiet, Easygoing, Sleepyhead}
Claude is a quiet, dreamy person who likes to sleep. He doesn't talk much, but that doesn't mean he's mute. Claude suffers from dysarthria, which means that whenever he speaks he mumbles and slurs a lot or talks too fast, making it hard to understand what he's saying. He can speak clearly if he concentrates, but as he finds it hard he tends to just focus on keeping his mouth shut and communicating via writing or hand gestures instead. While it does mean that he's a bit shy about talking with other people, it doesn't mean that Claude will avoid them. He's too easygoing for that - although he focuses on either art or sleeping and has little interest in other things, he's alright with being dragged along on an adventure by the others, or joining in himself if he thinks its fun. Claude is not an introvert, and can in fact be found painting in a corner of the room rather than on his own.

While Claude is an easygoing person is content to sleep or paint the day away, that's not all there is to him. Claude can often be found dreaming, be it about something mundane like cats or something profound, like how sweets make people happy. While he doesn't talk much, he makes up for it with other methods for talking, and he's actually rather cheerful when he's not yawning his head off thanks to staying up all night. He's normally a calm person, and keeps his cool, but even he has his limits. Claude tends to get too focused in things at times, resulting in him staying up a lot, and that in combination with insomnia tends to leave him a sleepy mess, As a result, he doesn't seem to connected to the world, often being absorbed in his own thoughts as if he hasn't quite waken up yet. This tends to make him rather oblivious to people and things, but that doesn't mean he won't notice things in front of his face. Claude does care, and although he sometimes has trouble showing it he'll do so in a serious, heartfelt manner.





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[center]ABILITY/MAGIC~
"... paint."
World End Art Gallery - Claude can control paint. He can control pigment and do anything he wishes with it, provided its within reasonable bounds. He is also only able to control that which he paints or draws - Claude is only able to use his powers on anything that he has had a hand in. If he has helped create the drawing or painting, he is able to control it, but if it was completely made by someone else then his powers cannot affect it. For example, if someone made a painting of a doll Claude would not be able to control it. If he helped out, however, he can control the doll, and he can also gain control by splashing a bit of paint on it and manipulated that paint to be part of the artwork. While Claude mostly uses it to change pigment color and make his paintings look good, other applications are:

Colored Letters - Claude can use paint to make words or pictures in midair. He can also use this ability to adjust artworks, as they are made out of paint, and any letters he writes, since ink contains black pigment and can be used to paint or draw.

Paintbomb - Basically Claude gathers a large blob of paint and splash it onto the person, creating an effect similar to the waterbomb. However, unlike water, paint can be used to obscure the eyes, and he can alter its consistency to make it a gooey paint that hinders movement.

Caricature - He can make drawings and paintings come to life. However, they have no thought or free will - they are merely extensions of Claude's will, and nothing more. For example, he draws a dragon, and brings it into reality. The drawing comes off the canvas and comes to life, in an effect that is similar to 2D turning into 3D. If it was drawn in nothing more than black and white, then it will look unearthly, only black and white. If it was colored with paints or pencils, however, then the dragon will have that color in reality, with its painted scales gleaming in the light. It'll still look like a painted dragon, however. Once it is out of the painting, the dragon is then able to affect the real world. However, the real world also affects it, and as a result with enough power the dragon will also be able to be destroyed. Once its not in use it will fade, growing back onto the canvas it came from.

This is a difficult technique, depending on how much he does it. Currently, he is only able to control 3 small paintings, or one large painting.

Realism - Claude is able to turn simple objects real, such as apples or even fire. However, he is only able to turn objects real, not living people or animals, and this saps a lot of strength out of him.

[center][font=aa]LIKES~
*smiles*
Painting - if he can't be found sleeping, he can be found painting. Its' his life's passion. Part of the reason he's covered in paint is because he's constantly trying to paint.
Art - Claude loves art. He loves all its form as a result. While his true forte is painting, Claude is a good hand at drawing, and when he's not found painting in his room he can be found seated somewhere drawing stuff with pencil. Occasionally he'll mix both drawing and painting together in his works.
Sleep - Claude is often tired, thanks to insomnia. As a result, if he's not doing art you can find him taking catnaps somewhere.
Food - Claude likes to eat. He likes to eat a lot, mostly because he misses meals thanks to being too focused on his work. He especially likes omelettes, because they're simple to make and takes little time to eat.

[center][font=aa]DISLIKES~
*frown*
Mornings - Claude tends to forget that morning's exist. He doesn't like mornings thanks to being an insomniac, and as a result he tends to fall asleep in the wee hours of the morning, making him a bit grumpy when he doesn't get his intended rest.
Talking - got made fun of for his way of talking, slurring and stuff, so he tends to keep silent until he has to. He's also embarrassed about his speech patterns.
Darkness - Claude doesn't mind the dark so long as he's with someone. However, he doesn't like true pitch black darkness, as it renders him blind and unable to see, a fear of anyone who uses their eyes for their passions or work. As a result he's scared of the dark.
Sleep - Claude wants to sleep, but thanks to both nightmares and insomnia he doesn't want to either. It's a bit of a love-hate relationship.

[center][font=aa]HISTORY~
"... Don't... wanna think, about it."
Claude was born normally, but kept in an isolated area. His mother was a painter, and baby Claude could often be found playing with their tools, resulting in a gentle chide and taking it away, only to be replaced with pencils to draw with. Claude grew up holding a paintbrush in one hand and a pencil in the other. His mom had a series of boyfriends, both good and terrible, but she never stayed with them for long. Neglectful and focused only in her work, she still tried the best to raise Claude the way she knew how, and Claude grew up learning about paints and how to take care of himself, rarely leaving the studio they lived in.

When she died, Claude was taken in by an uncle. He soon learnt of Claude's power when he was six, and that was when things went to hell.

His uncle wanted Claude to use his power for forgeries. He also wanted to use it for counterfeiting, but Claude's powers didn't allow for that - at least at first. Trapped in an isolated room with only art materials for company, Claude was forced into a hellish training regiment so that his uncle could use his powers for monetary gain. Any failures were met with both physical and psychological punishment, and any attempts to defy or hide was met with worst - one time Claude got caught trying to escape, he was tied up and locked in a small, dark box, left unable to see, move, touch or hear for two days. As time went on, Claude grew dis-attached to the world, escaping his situation by painting, growing more and more silent as he did so until people thought he was mute. Broken, frightened, unable to even think about disobeying without fearing for his life thanks to his uncle's abuse (which was part of the reason it was so large - Uncle needed a way to control someone who could use paint against him), Claude grew depressed and silent, tired of everything - until one day, circumstances lead him to the WRWFC, dripping blood and barely conscious, a high fever ravaging his senses.

He had been 13 at the time. Now, with the help of Cosmo and the other residents, Claude has grown past his silence, grown less depressed, but the effects of his past still remain.




Character Sheet created by °ẞ0llisīic°
Character Played by Alle9009

So begins...

Claude Monet's Story

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Speaking: Gold | Thinking: Red





In a room dappled in sunlight, a boy was painting.

Dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans that were rumpled as if he hadn't bothered changing since he got out of bed (he hadn't), the boy looked almost faded in the light, the sunlight from the windows casting a shadow across his face, adding a glow to his already yellow hair. He looked faded the way a photograph does, sepia and faded backgrounds, body picturesque as leant forward on his stool and picked up a brush, a look of absolute concentration on his face, as if he had forgotten everything around him.

Of course, the faded tones merely made the colors decorating Claude and the canvas he was painting on all the more brighter. Reds, browns, yellows, blues, greens... his clothes, face, even his legs were decorated with smears of paint, and his hands were an undefinable mix of color. As he reached up with one hand, absently pushing his hair back from his face, he left a long streak of forest green paint on the top of his forehead in the process. Ignoring it - Claude didn't even seem to notice that it existed - he turned back to the painting with a face of absolute concentration.

It was almost complete. A dash of storm cloud grey there, mix in a little more white under that dark green patch... Ah, but he had to be careful, so that the green wouldn't be too light. It had to be just right, to accentuate the painting. Hands moving elegantly like a pianist playing a sonata, Claude was the picture of concentration as the brush moved, playing the song out to its finale.

A small stroke of black... lifting the brush up towards the sky, Claude brought it down like the hand of God - and gently dabbed at the center of the painting. Satisfied, he placed the brush down and leant back with a frown, looking critically the completed painting.

Done.

The picture was a mishmash of colors and shapes. At the edges, it was bright like the glare of the sun; blinding the people who saw it and searing into their brains. It was all mismatched whirls and edges at first sight, but a closer look revealed a deep downwards spiral leading to the center of the painting. As it went downwards, people would gradually notice that the colors grew softer and less defined, sharp edges and curls blending into each other until it was hard to tell which was which. The process was like a high definition photograph that was slowly fading into black and white- blinding hues that had resembled the glare of the sun was now softening like ice cream melting in the heat, turning from harsh to the gentler shine of a multicolored lightbulb until finally, at the center of the painting, a small dark starry circle appeared.

It was an empty pitch black. It was the kind of black that you'd get if you tried to think of the darkness of an enclosed tomb, the kind of darkness that didn't know about anything that wasn't a deep, dark black. It was a darkness that generated light thanks to the sheer lack of white inside it, and that emphasized the colors that made up the painting and made it shine brighter, almost like a dark star that was generating a whirlwind rainbow of colors that grew brighter every second it spiraled outwards into its surroundings.

It would do. With a proud curve to his lips, Claude stretched his arms and spine out with a series of pops and made to stand up - only to promptly discover that sitting still on a stool for nearly half a day best numb legs. Wobbling like a newborn foal and wincing at the aching cramp in his legs, Claude waited until the pain had died down before attempting to pack up his gear.

He was done within a few minutes. Closing the paintbox with a snap, Claude looked out of the window and blinked in surprise as he noticed, for the first time, that the sun was about to set instead of being high in the sky like he had expected it to be.

What happened to the afternoon? And the sun looks nice...

His stomach growled. Claude blinked and noticed for the first time that he was ravenously hungry and actually pretty tired. It was to be expected, seeing as he only slept for four hours before waking up and had hardly eaten since breakfast (or the day before, now that he thought about it), but it still surprised him no matter how many times it happened. Reaching out a hand, Claude tentatively petted his stomach as if hoping that it would stop growling.

No such luck. His stomach continued to grumble 'FEED ME YOU FORGETFUL BASTARD WHO DO YOU THINK GIVES YOU ENERGY TO PAINT', and with a sigh Claude decided to appease it. Placing the painting in a dry corner of the room so that it wouldn't be disturbed by anyone, Claude took one last look at it before drifting out of the room, heading towards the dining room.

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He drifted into the dining room like a paint covered ghost. It seemed that almost everyone had finished their meal. Seeing that there was no food to be found, Claude yawned widely and quietly made his way to the kitchen. Ghost-like effect spoiled by the herald of his rumbling stomach, Claude yawned again and drifted tiredly towards the fridge and pulled it open, grabbing the first thing he saw - cake.

Food!

It was only after he was halfway through demolishing the piece of cake that he turned and noticed the plates filled with food seated on the table for anyone who had missed dinner for one reason or another. Stuffing the rest of the cake into his mouth and smearing cream and icing on his nose and cheeks, Claude took the plate and made it to the kitchen table at top speed. Pulling up a stool to sit on, Claude grabbed a knife and fork before falling into the food with gusto, a look of neutral concentration on his face as he focused on not choking and on eating as much as he could.

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συтƒιт | X
βˆ‚ΞΉΞ±β„“ΟƒgΟ…Ρ” ’σℓσυя ✧ #b452cd
тнσυgΠ½Ρ‚ ’σℓσυя ✦ #e066ff

Ζ’Ξ±Β’Ρ” Β’β„“Ξ±ΞΉΠΌ ✦ Ξ·Ξ±ΠΊΞ±Ξ·Οƒ Ξ±zΟ…Ρ•Ξ± {ΠΊ-ση!}

β™« 【REASON】Reason | γ‚†γš β™«

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Kathy clapped her hands together and smiled brightly when she found she was allowed to go. She stuffed the rest of her food into her mouth before standing up with her plate to go wash up. At the sink she found Sara washing up, and gave it to her with thanks.

Humming cheerfully, Kathy practically skipped out to wait for everyone. Already there were two boys that she vaguely recalled seeing around. She hadn't gotten to know them very well yet, but she intended to! "Hello there!" She said, "Satoru and... Cerulean, right? Are you excited for the errand? I am! I bet whatever this thing they sense is, it's going to be really cool! Oh, but I hope we won't have to come back in because of the storm! Storms are terrible, they just ruin everyone's plans, but the lightning is pretty so I guess I like that about them.". Kathy inched closer to the door, racing to get going. She wondered just what Cosmo and Odette had sensed, whether it was dangerous or normal and what they would find at the scene. 'This is so exciting!' She thought to herself with a smile.

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συтƒιт | X
βˆ‚ΞΉΞ±β„“ΟƒgΟ…Ρ” ’σℓσυя ✧ #EC5800
тнσυgΠ½Ρ‚ ’σℓσυя ✦ #FF9966

Ζ’Ξ±Β’Ρ” Β’β„“Ξ±ΞΉΠΌ ✦ Ρ•Ρ”ΞΉΡƒΞ± ΠΊΞ±Ξ·ΞΉΡ” {Ξ±ΠΌΞ±gΞΉ вяιℓℓιαηт ραяк}

β™« Murdered | Alice Mare OST β™«

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Leon was basically already finished his food, even before the announcement of the errand, so when he found out who got to go, he just grinned to himself before getting up to go to the kitchen. Staring at the pile of dirty plates beside the sink, he shrugged and decided it wouldn't hurt to add one more. 'I pity whoever has to wash these' He mumbled to himself, 'But it's not going to be me.'. He passed Sara as he left, and felt bad for her that she was probably going to be the one to wash the plates.

As he went back into the dining room, he noticed his roommate Claude come in, looking like a piece of modern art. Leon smiled and gave him an awkward wave, but he wasn't sure that he'd been noticed, since Claude seemed far too distracted by the thought of food. He went to the hall to meet the rest of the group, where he found Kathy seemingly talking Cerulean and Satoru's ears off. He snuck in beside the boys, but outside the girl's vision range so as not to be noticed. He didn't quite want to be seen just yet.

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Speaking: Gold | Thinking: Red





Having eaten his fill, Claude set his knife and fork down with a small sigh of contentment. That hit the spot. For a while, he sat there staring at nothing, and the blank look on his face; eyes half lidded as if he were about to fall asleep, wouldn't have done much to deny the fact that he was thinking of nothing either.

Of course, whether Claude was thinking or not was something to guess.

Eventually, he moved. Head moving slowly like the tinman in Oz before they got rid of the rust, Claude looked down on the plate as if it contained something precious.

Nothing but a plate licked clean stared back at him. Drat.

Turning around, Claude looked hopefully at the other plates.

As if answering his not-quite-thought of prayers, a half empty plate winkled at his direction. Claude smiled to himself, pleased, quickly drawing it towards him.

Eureka!

Using the knife and one side of the fork, Claude began to play with his food, spreading it out onto the plate with a look of concentration on his face. The brown sauce formed the face, the crushed peas formed the eyes and the mash potato formed the mouth.... Wait, that wasn't right. Tilting his head a little to the side, Claude shot a critical look at the 'painting' he was creating. No, that didn't work. It needed a little more... Color.

Hmm.

Shoving the mashed potato and other leftover solids to the edge to create a circle, Claude's eyes narrowed in a look of concentration as he molded and adjusted the brown sauce inside the white fort. Grabbing a glass of leftover apple juice, Claude mixed it with a bit of white mashed potato before using the gold-tinted semi solid to form a circle. Without looking up, Claude reached for his own glass of orange juice and added it to the painting, using his spoon as a measuring place and a fork for the spreading.

Soon enough, a crude drawing of a smiley face was finished. Caught in the mood, Claude's lips tilted upwards almost imperceptibly in a smile as he continued to make smiley faces elsewhere, and many other faces too.

As he made them, the paintings gave off a faint glow before appearing in real life. The effect was similar to a 2D sticker coming off the wall into a 3D sticker - as the smiley face came off the plate with a shake, the part that made it into the air turned real, until a brown smiley face with happy orange eyes and brownish mouth that looked like a cartoon bounced around in the kitchen.

It was joined by a whole batch of smiley faces of different colors, until Claude got bored and started making different smiley faces. A sad orange face cried silently as it moved around the kitchen, and an angry monster face chased the other smiley faces. They were easy to control thanks to the simplicity of their creation, and by the time Claude had done making the eighth one, which we looked like an orange cat with brown eyes and strips, the rest of the Smileys were bouncing around the kitchen, as if curious about their surroundings.

One of them bounced happily to Sara. It was silent, but it danced around her head like a bubble. It was joined by another smiley face, and a third, but after a few seconds of smiling the one with jagged lips chased after them, playful like a pair of tussling dogs.

It'd look adorable at first, the four playing together. Then the one with jagged lips opened its mouth in a silent roar, and in that moment it looked exactly like a monstrous monster.

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Speaking: #8A0707 | Thinking: #cdd81d





Ken smiled as he headed up to the roof. Staying here was fun! And he thought he'd spotted Isuel up on the roof too! Popping his head up through the window, the redhead smiled cheerily at Isuel, eyes wide and anticipatory. "Isuel!" He chirped brightly, grinning widely at her. "Can we fight today please please pleeaaassee?" He drew out the word whiningly, hoping that it'd helped with getting her to fight him.

Not that she did the last time he asked her, but that was ok! Maybe she'd agree this time! Eagerly, he waited for her response, fully prepared to continue chasing her if she refused.

Sara

Speech:#FF00FF Thought:#FF99FF
Sara happily worked away, humming a familiar tune. She felt something bump into her and she turned before nearly jumping out of her skin from surprise. Some odd looking creature stared at her and she stared back. When she looked around the room in awe there were plenty of them. Then she notices Claude.

"Did... did you make these?" She asked shyly. "They're.... kinda cute.... What's your name? I don't think we've met yet...." She kicked the back of one foot with the other looking down as she spoke, hands together behind her back. She lost focus of her task and forgot how much longer her treats were supposed to be in for. Within a short time, it would become burnt if she were unable to remember or be reminded.

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Speaking: Gold | Thinking: Red





Claude looked up from where he was sitting, his bangs falling into his eyes as he tilted his head at Sara. In his lap, the plate shuddered as a cartoony pig's face unsticked itself from the plate. It floated away as he stared at Sara, a blank look on his face as he registered that there was another person in the same room. He hadn't seen the blue-haired girl before. Who was she?

He looked around the kitchen for the first time, as if hoping for someone to fill him in. He saw nothing but clean plates and floating cartoony smiley faces. One of them seemed to be trying to eat another, with mixed success.

Ah, I see. And is that smell... cookies?

Oh, right. She had asked a question. Blinking, Claude swivelled back to face her, face still expressionless despite the hesitancy he was feeling. Should he speak? No, that... probably wouldn't be wise. And it would be embarrassing, too. Claude bent his head down to see what 'paint' he had left.

Half a glass of orange juice, but that would do. Quickly, he spread it onto the plate in what roughly looked like letters. The bright orange unstuck itself from the plate and swelled in the air beside his shoulder, forming thin spidery lines that spelled out the word:

"Yes."

Claude added more orange juice, and the letters began to change, swirling like a drop of ink in water before settling into a sentence in the same thin spidery lines. "I'm Claude. Who are you? He tilted his head quizzically at her with a curious look on his face. "The air smells good. Are you making... cookies?" he asked, inhaling the sweet-scented air deeply. It had been faint at first, but the smell had grown stronger.

Those smelled really good...

Sara

Speech:#FF00FF Thought:#FF99FF

She watched his expressionless face. Even though there may not have been any expressions worn on it, she thought that it might hide a plethora of emotions beneath it. At first, she was nervous due to his silence. However, she took notice of the orange juice he was interacting with and watched in awe as it came to life, forming words in thin air. A gasp left her mouth as the spectacle continued, new words forming. "I'm... I'm Sara. Is all of this," she turned in place, hands out as she spun around taking in the beautiful scene,"a part of your ability? It's all so beautiful..."

When the words changed, she read them carefully. "Yes, I'm making cookies for everyone. Quite a few people left, including chocco. I felt kinda bad that she does a lot of the baking alone and thought that the others might enjoy a treat when they returned... Would you like some when they are finished?" she smelled the air and took in the tasteful smell of fresh baked cookies. Then, she realized they had almost been in too long and rushed to get a mitt on to grab the tray out of the oven with and to make sure a spot was open to place it down on. When the door opened, they cracked and sizzled in the heat, turning to a soft Humm as they cooled in the open air.

"Go ahead," she said with a smile, " you can take one. Just be careful, they're still very hot."