Cıтч øf Bяøκeи Søυłš {ᶳᵉᵐᶤ⁻ᵃᵈᵛᵃᶰᶜᵉᵈ ʳᵒˡᵉᵖˡᵃʸ} discussion

A fair sized flat in the lower upper-class suburbs in the Heart of the City, Sadie's flat consists of a bedroom and two adjoining rooms, as well as extremely small rooms for things like a bathroom and, in Sadie's case, a mini kitchen (which she's set up in the cleaning closet -- without an oven). A majority of the space is devoted to her artwork, with the rest of the so-called "necessities" hardly taking up any room at all.
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Bedroom


Studio Room #1: for less messy projects



Studio Room #2: for messier projects



Kitchen


Bathroom
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Nikolai led his newfound... friends... into his sister's spacious apartment. Well, he decided, it wasn't like she had anything valuable in the open that they could steal. It was all paints and canvasses. "Make yourselves at home," he said, feeling almost like a criminal. He'd explain to Sadie when she woke up.

Dakota grunted in reply to Nik's comment, practically ignoring him as he dragged his sister over to the nearest piece of furniture to dump her on. He then rested his hands on his knees, inhaling harshly. He was not athletic so that was quite the workout for him. He definitely worked off any alcohol that was in his system which fucken sucked. It made him want to punch something but with the paint fumes in this place, he was sure he could get high. He eventually straightened up and flicked his hair back into place before shoving his hands into his pockets and glanced around. Checking out the place, the obsession here was clear. AT least, that's what Dakota was going with. He didn't get people who had this type of hobby or job. Which was ironic since his own twin enjoyed sketching. Speaking of which....

Haven had stepped into this studio and froze at the door. His unusual and frankly, unsettling eyes widened as he looked around. He still was hugging Val's guitar and fiddling with his lip piercing. However, his focus had turned to the large amounts of paints and canvas, etc. He wasn't into painting but art was art. He ventured into the room, drawn to looking at everything, something he was sure to freak out about later once he realized what he'd done. He would fear being scolded.

With friends like these, who needs enemies? Nikolai thought, taking solace in the thought that at least they weren't making much noise, and at least Val was already pretty much asleep. He gestured across her studio room at a pile of beanbag chairs and dog beds scattered under the desks all over. "There's beds... of a sort," he pointed out, "If you don't like them, there's not much I can do for it. If you need to throw up, the bathroom's here." He opened a side door, leading to a piteously tiny toilet and shower area.