The Artist's Insomnia pt 7
The Artist's Insomnia pt 7 by ~merrypsimon
What? 6s head snapped up.
I said Im almost done stitching up your wrist for you. 5 repeated, looking up at 6 with worry.
Oh 6 trailed off, lowering his head again.
6? Is something wrong? 5 asked. 6 snapped his head up again
No he lied, hoping 5 wouldnt figure him out.
Why 6? Why this of all things? Why would you do this 5 asked himself, studying the deep cuts on 6s wrists. 6s head was bowed low, and his optics were distant, like he was sleeping with his them open.
There 5 said, biting off the remainder thread on 6s wrist.
Huh? he asked, looking around he saw 5 kneeling on the ground, needle in one hand, his wrist in the other.
What are you doing!? 6 exclaimed, pulling his unmended arm away from 5.
6 your going to rip- 5 heard the sound of ripping. The fabric on 6s arm ripping.
The Artist's Insomnia pt 6
The Artist's Insomnia pt 6 by ~merrypsimon
It was late into the night. 5 tossed and turned as he tried hopelessly to sleep. Finally deciding his efforts were futile, he sat up, knowing exactly what he had to do. 5 begun to make the long walk up to the attic where 6s quarters were. Thinking all the while. Why had he never moved up there with 6? How come he slept so far away from the person he cared about most? Finally reaching 6s door, he sighed, then lightly pushed the door open. 6 sat on the floor, drawing in a precise manner, a mess of papers and ink circled around him.
Look who decided to show his face around here.
Hi 6 5 said nervously. Unsure of what 6 might do or say.
Just leave me alone 6 sighed heavily, trying to ignore the voice.
Look .Im really sorry about earlier 5 trailed off, struggling to say what he meant.
Youre not angry? Your not angry that I was right?
Dont even bother.
The Artist's Insomnia pt 5
The Artist's Insomnia pt 5 by ~merrypsimon
So explain to me again how fire will help fix his fingers 9 asked confused.
The humans had a thing called a Blow-torch. It produced fire much hotter then the fire coming from this little lighter. When they needed to bend metal, they would use a blow-torch to make the metal soft and bendable. 6s fingers are made purely out of nibs. Nibs are made of metal. Since we cant use a blow-touch because they are to big, and would destroy 6s fingers completely, we are scaling everything to our size. Since nibs are tiny, this lighter will do just fine 2 explained.
So wait we have to burn his fingers? 9 asked, still confused
Unfortunatly yes. It is the only way to get his fingers back to their proper shape so he can draw with them again 2 stated. They all turned to 6.
Are you guys having fun? he asked, feeling somewhat left out.
Hey 6..were going to st
The Artist's Insomnia pt 4
The Artist's Insomnia pt 4 by ~merrypsimon
What happened? 2 asked 5 as he came into 2s workshop.
6 happened 5 said.
What did he do? 2 asked concerned.
He drew on my leg 5 said disappointed.
Let me see 2 said, directing 5 over to his repair table.
Hmm.. 2 trailed off, looking carefully at 5s leg.
He didnt do it on purpose did he? 2 asked worried.
No. he had just woken up from a nightmare, I think. But he kind of just stared at me blankly. Like he didnt realize I was there. 5 said confused.
Oh 2 said forlorn. It wasnt like 6 to do something like this.
Im sure he didnt mean it 2 said confidently, finding a square of burlap for 5s leg.
I know he didnt but 5 trailed off.
But what? 2 asked, turning around as he threaded a needle.
What do these letters mean? 5 asked, pointin
The Artist's Insomnia pt 3
The Artist's Insomnia pt 3 by ~merrypsimon
6 ran into his quarters, screaming at his hands.
You curses! You curses! You made me hurt 5! Now hell hate me forever! You cursed hands! You cursed fingers! I hate you! I hate you! I wish I could destroy you for making me hurt 5!
6 walked over to window and looked at the massive amounts of rocks and pebbles surrounding it. 6 picked up the heaviest rock he could hold in one hand. 6 walked over to his corner angrily.
I hate you hands, I hate you. You made me hurt 5! Your curses, curses. Why couldnt the scientist give me normal fingers like everybody else? 6 asked himself, staring at the rock in his hand. 6 closed his eyes and again, he saw 5s leg again. How badly he scratched it.
I wish I could destroy you 6 heard his own voice echo in his head. 6 stared at his hand that was lying on the floor, then at the rock in his hand.
Not again. Not ever again he whispered, hate in his voice. With the r
The Artist's Insomnia pt 2
The Artist's Insomnia pt 2 by ~merrypsimon
7 walked up the stairs to where 5 and 9 were.
Hey guys she said. 5 and 9 turned around.
Hi 7 they said in unison. 9 stared at 7 confused, wondering why she was holding 6.
5? 6 whispered sleepily, still gripping his key
Oh! 7 exclaimed, remembering why she came up in the first place
Nightmare? 5 asked, cutting 7 off. She nodded.
A nightmare? 9 asked, confused about what a nightmare was. 5 looked down, closing his optic for a moment before looking back up and sighing.
Yes. He has them quite frequently he said. 9 shook his head, pretending to understand.
Let me see him 5 said. 7 gently placed 6 in 5s arms. 6 instantly knew who was holding him and wrapped his arms around 5, burying his face in the crook of 5s neck. 5 sat down, leaving 6 in his lap. 6 was still gripping his key tightly.
He holds that key like hes
The Artist's Insomnia
The Artist's Insomnia by ~merrypsimon
6 rubbed his optics blearily. He was so tired. 6 learned very early on in his life that he was an insomniac. Just like the scientist. He hardly slept. Even when he was tired he couldnt sleep. 6 swung his feet over the side of his bed, moving with a slowed pace. 6 let his feet slide to the ground before standing up. He rubbed the sleep out of his optics once more, then yawned. Sleep. Thats all he wanted was sleep. 6 walked slowly over to his stack of blank papers. Once more he yawned, then grabbed some paper and walked over to his ink pot. The ink pot was tall, just a bit taller then himself. He stood on the very tips of his feet, dipping his nib fingers into the pot. He was grateful that the scientist had made his fingers out of nibs, but at the same time very upset with it. 6 was afraid to touch anybody, for fear he might stab them, or hurt them. None of the other eight had nibs for fingers, that made 6 special. Once his hand was cover