Muse

Chapter 25

My first initial thought when I began sketching business card concepts was that I should have been working on the Nightfury OC commission. The Patre0n request had been sitting in my inbox for a little over two weeks now and I still had other responsibilities to deal with instead of putting off the commissions until last minute at the end of the month- in fact, I had been listening to nothing but John Powell since I had gotten the project just to get into the mood. Instead, I had fallen prey to the temptation of a new project, and like most new projects, it had swallowed me whole and consumed my every waking thought. I had spent the last two and a half hours buried in dozens of my old art class notes, college portfolios, concept sketches, and templates I thought would have been useful and had virtually nothing to show for it.

It was my first real, official project I had gotten in awhile. The pressure was on, not just because an actual business's success all hinged on my ability at making an eye-catching business card, but because I wanted to do a good job- for Izuku's sake if not for my own reputation. He was counting on me, his hero agency hanging on by a thread- hopefully, it was a spider's thread, something that was stronger than any man-made thread. Thoughts of spider-webs and the Human Spider comics I had stockpiled in one of my many bookshelves flooded unhindered into my head. It had been awhile since I had read them. Maybe I should- UGH! Stop thinking about other heroes and do your job thinking about the one that needs your help now!

I pressed my pencil firmly into the Strathmore sketchpad and drew another word association tree and basic concept sketches to brainstorm ideas for the business card layout, waiting for the spark of inspiration to hit with little-to-no success. I had been drawing his hero name in English and then in hiragana to see if I could do something interesting with the topography, occasionally subbing in his actual name just to see what looked better on the card- a lot of Japanese companies and goods were written in English with Japanese characters underneath it, but the lack of knowledge of what his name was in katakana or kanji layered yet another brick of frustration at trying to find my old kanji book and I was determined to find it before asking. The letters looked terrible in my scribbly handwriting, but it was just a rough draft; everything was done on the computer anyways.

Another point of my artist block was that Izuku had been very vague when it came to what he actually looked like. He had given me complete creative freedom with the project, but wouldn't give me a good description of his costume, saying that it was just a plain green jumpsuit with white gloves and armor plated knee-high boots, which was frustrating to work with. I knew he had a strength Quirk, which could easily give him a generic superhero or boxer look if he had more notable design details like bandage-wrapped fisticuffs or boxing gloves. If I had visuals of what his costume looked like, I could have at least been able to create logos off of its appearance, but he hadn't even bothered to send me a single photo of him in costume. Not one. Because of that, I was working with very bare-bones ideas for pro-heroes, which was fairly basic and could apply to literally any hero or any agency, real or fictional. Not exactly the greatest marketing strategy.

At least give me a specific shade of green, maybe some specific shapes of your costume, I grumbled internally as I texted Izuku before leaning back with a sigh, the folding chair creaking back from my weight. Maybe he was camera shy? He seemed a bit nervous when we had been taking photos together at the museum. I looked over towards the hero medal sitting in my Tui and La ceramic bowl my sister had made me for my birthday and ran my fingertips over the cool metal. My feet were warmed by the slippers he had bought me. Despite Japan being ridiculously warm and humid during the summers, it was still relatively cold outside, and since my mother had insisted on keeping the apartment at twenty degrees Celsius (which was sixty eight degrees Fahrenheit after plugging it into an online conversion for centigrade) to save on energy, I was usually cold and had to bundle myself in a hoodie or fleece pajama bottoms- today's pattern featured Mickey Mouse on white pants with a red drawstring timed with his older 'brother', Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, on my black hoodie. The chill reminded me of how warm Izuku had been when I had embraced him, how broad his back had been, how strong and encompassing his arms had felt once they reluctantly wrapped themselves around me.