[Sunday was, all things considered, a pretty decent day for Cherryblod.
Monday is not.
He spends most of the morning sulking in Room 22, although the door is wide open so it's clear he doesn't mind company. He's just sitting on his bed with his arms around his knees and his face hidden, silent.
When he does leave, he heads straight for the dining room, hoping that there's at least something left over from Mettaton's smashing session yesterday so that he doesn't have to get anything from the kitchen. Finding at least a couple pieces of tableware left, he grabs a hammer and gets to demolishing them.
After that, the only thing he can think of to do is head to the art room. The King loved pictures of the night sky, so that's what Cherryblod tries to paint. He's not very good at it, but they're at least recognizable as 'night sky' paintings, so it's something.
He wishes he could say more than 'it's something'.]
no subject
Monday is not.
He spends most of the morning sulking in Room 22, although the door is wide open so it's clear he doesn't mind company. He's just sitting on his bed with his arms around his knees and his face hidden, silent.
When he does leave, he heads straight for the dining room, hoping that there's at least something left over from Mettaton's smashing session yesterday so that he doesn't have to get anything from the kitchen. Finding at least a couple pieces of tableware left, he grabs a hammer and gets to demolishing them.
After that, the only thing he can think of to do is head to the art room. The King loved pictures of the night sky, so that's what Cherryblod tries to paint. He's not very good at it, but they're at least recognizable as 'night sky' paintings, so it's something.
He wishes he could say more than 'it's something'.]