[For Anne Bransby-Smith] Help draw something like one of those French girls....

[77th_earl]

She might find him in one of the brighter-lit, south-facing rooms, a youngish man with a sketchpad on his knees, propped against the edge of a table, a carefully sharpened drawing pencil in hand. A mirror stands propped up on a chair nearby: he'll gaze into the mirror from time to time, then look back to the sketchpad, tracing more lines. Then he

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[4am_dreamer]

In comes an Ann, slightly curious about the guy with sketchpad.

She's more of a painter, herself but Artists gotta stick together.

"Hey..."

[77th_earl]

He looks up, his violet eyes blinking a bit. "Hello, I am sorry that I did not greet you sooner," he says, rising, sketchpad in hand. "I was wrapped up in my work and I did not hear you enter at first," he adds, glancing at the pad and frowning a bit at it. The image is decidedly crude, the facial features a bit flattened relative to the shape of the face.

[4am_dreamer]

"It's fine..." She looks at Titus' drawing for a good while...

"Is that your drawing?"

It really sucks, pardon her thoughts.

[77th_earl]

He looks at it with a frown. "Yes, I admit that it is a sorry attempt at my likeness," he admits. "I am much better at drawing still lifes and landscape details such as trees or small buildings, but I thought I would try my hand at something harder."