Artsy Fartsy

Mon Mar 03, 2014 8:24 pm

He was fuckin' pissed off now. It was in the modern art section that his burning anger had met its endless supply of pure black fuel. His face turned a bright red as smoke puffed out of his nose, and with each grunt he became more bull-like and less human. Are you fucking kidding me?, he thought to himself as he felt his fists clench into an unwarranted tightness. He wanted to punch someone right in the face and keep doing it until their facial structure changed at a fuckin' genetic level. He was staring at a large 'painting', on the center of which there were three dots in a triangle formation. Around the three dots there was a circle, an imperfect one, drawn with pencil. And over it all, with some sort of pink and almost transparent water-color, there were brush strokes. That was it.

That was the entire fucking painting.

The artist's name was embedded into a golden tab at the bottom of the painting, and it was behind some sort of glass that was sure to trigger some sort of alarm if he tried to punch through it. But what he really wanted to do was punch each of these paintings. But he stepped back, closed his eyes, and thought rationally. This wasn't why he was here. His research had given him the suspicion that the art thief that he was hired to catch, would show up in this expo.

Helpless to the burning agony inside of him, he moved over to the next painting.

"ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME?!"

It was by the same piece of shit artist as the fist one. But this one was literally just two circles. Literally two fucking circles. His jaw was wide open as he stared at this new one, and more importantly, this new painting stared at him back, mocking him for his shit salary, his shit apartment, and his shit hospital bill. Meanwhile there was some smug rat out there shitting out paintings for a couple million a piece?! "How is any... of this shit... art..."

"Tell me about it," came a cheerful voice from behind him. There was a boy, somewhere in his late teens, watching the same painting in the same sort of disgust. His jaw was clenched and his fists were too, and the Demon saw the same emotions in this boy that he himself was feeling. "I just want to... burn all these... fake pieces of art."

Asura sighed, running his hand along the back of his hair as if he were consoling himself for what he was about to do. He turned to face this newcomer, his expression an apologetic one, and spoke in as authoritative tone as he could while still being somewhat understanding. "You're the art thief, aren't you? And don't bother lying. I found your fingerprints at the Hishima home."

The thief didn't deny it, and Demon didn't bother handcuffing the kid. It was clear now. He was stealing all of this modern art, and not the real art, but the kind that would piss Demon off. He was burning it. That was why there were reports of illegal ash deposits near the west end, which was later identified as painting paper. In all honestly, the Demon felt like shit for arresting someone who was doing something that Asura himself would've done, had the circumstances been even a little different.

---
WC: 570
Mission Link: boom
Mission Specs:

Spoiler:

Mon Mar 03, 2014 9:36 pm

approved for appropriate rewards

Artsy Fartsy

Artsy Fartsy

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