Information
Going
Legacy Name: Going
The
Cream KumosOwner:
shipAge: 12 years, 2 months, 4 weeks
Born: January 27th, 2012
Adopted: 6 years, 2 months, 1 week ago
Adopted: February 14th, 2018
Statistics
- Level: 42
- Strength: 103
- Defense: 103
- Speed: 103
- Health: 103
- HP: 103/103
- Intelligence: 129
- Books Read: 129
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Community Event Director
Moonlight filtered in through the broken blind in the dingy room. Layla rolled over, her eyes blinking slowly, adjusting to the half-light. 3:12am the LED alarm clock on her bedside table read. She swore under her breath, then rolled over, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Counting sheep didn’t work anymore. All she saw now were the looming figures of her hugely overdrawn bank account, and the empty canvas in the studio. Artists block, they called it. Hell on earth would be a better description. She hadn’t produced a good piece of artwork in months, and the cost of simply surviving in London city was taking its toll.
3:15am. Her phone lit up, the blue backlight illuminating the walls, mixing with the moonlight. She swore again.
Who in the world?
1 New Message. Unknown Sender
She opened the message.
Congratulations. You have been selected as our winner! You can expect your instructions to be delivered within the next 12 hours. There are no terms or conditions. Hope to see you soon.
Spaaaaaam, she sighed, and rolled over again.
*****
7:35am. Coffee o’clock. Layla inhaled slowly, the strong smell filling her nostrils. She gazed out of apartment window into the hazy morning fog. The doorbell ringing startled her out of her reverie. Slipping off the windowsill where she was perched, she padded to the door and opened it slowly. The hallway was empty, save for a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. Layla Embrook the package read. She shrugged, and picked it up, shaking it lightly. Bringing it inside, she pulled off the paper to reveal a wooden box underneath. Inside the box lay a handwritten note.
Layla, it read You have been invited to New York City to meet with myself, regarding the competition you recently entered. I’m excited to tell you that you have been offered an exhibition room in which to display your art work, here in the Museum of Modern Art. I have to say, out of all the entries, yours stood out hugely. Your perception and fluidity have amazed all of us here on the board of directors. Enclosed are flights, and a cheque for £25,000 which is yours whether or not you choose to accept this once in a lifetime opportunity. Yours truly, Glenn Lowry. Director. MOMA.
Layla sat down, heavily, wracking her brain. I didn’t enter a competition, she thought to herself. I’ve never entered a competition in my whole life. She grabbed her phone with shaking hands, flicked through her contacts and punched the dial button.
“Hello sweetie!” came a cheery voice down the line.
“Hey Cat, how’s it going?” Layla rushed.
“Yeah, I’m alright, how-“
Layla cut her off.
“Listen, sorry, um, I got a letter today... from MOMA. You’re the only person I could even remotely link this to...”
“Oh yeah, I put your name in some ‘suggestions’ box when I was in New York last month, completely forgot to tell you. Didn’t think anything would come of it. Why? What’s happened?”
“I won.” Layla almost didn’t believe she was saying those words.
“You what?” Cat’s confusion sounded genuine.
“I won. Twenty five thousand and an exhibition space... They invited me to New York. I just... I can’t even process this right now.”
There was a short breath, followed by a slow exhale.
“Holy hell”
“Yeah,” Layla almost whispered. “That’s pretty much my thoughts exactly.”
After a short pause, Cat piped up, “So what are you gonna do?”
“What do you think? This is my shot. This is me. I’m going!”
3:15am. Her phone lit up, the blue backlight illuminating the walls, mixing with the moonlight. She swore again.
Who in the world?
1 New Message. Unknown Sender
She opened the message.
Congratulations. You have been selected as our winner! You can expect your instructions to be delivered within the next 12 hours. There are no terms or conditions. Hope to see you soon.
Spaaaaaam, she sighed, and rolled over again.
*****
7:35am. Coffee o’clock. Layla inhaled slowly, the strong smell filling her nostrils. She gazed out of apartment window into the hazy morning fog. The doorbell ringing startled her out of her reverie. Slipping off the windowsill where she was perched, she padded to the door and opened it slowly. The hallway was empty, save for a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. Layla Embrook the package read. She shrugged, and picked it up, shaking it lightly. Bringing it inside, she pulled off the paper to reveal a wooden box underneath. Inside the box lay a handwritten note.
Layla, it read You have been invited to New York City to meet with myself, regarding the competition you recently entered. I’m excited to tell you that you have been offered an exhibition room in which to display your art work, here in the Museum of Modern Art. I have to say, out of all the entries, yours stood out hugely. Your perception and fluidity have amazed all of us here on the board of directors. Enclosed are flights, and a cheque for £25,000 which is yours whether or not you choose to accept this once in a lifetime opportunity. Yours truly, Glenn Lowry. Director. MOMA.
Layla sat down, heavily, wracking her brain. I didn’t enter a competition, she thought to herself. I’ve never entered a competition in my whole life. She grabbed her phone with shaking hands, flicked through her contacts and punched the dial button.
“Hello sweetie!” came a cheery voice down the line.
“Hey Cat, how’s it going?” Layla rushed.
“Yeah, I’m alright, how-“
Layla cut her off.
“Listen, sorry, um, I got a letter today... from MOMA. You’re the only person I could even remotely link this to...”
“Oh yeah, I put your name in some ‘suggestions’ box when I was in New York last month, completely forgot to tell you. Didn’t think anything would come of it. Why? What’s happened?”
“I won.” Layla almost didn’t believe she was saying those words.
“You what?” Cat’s confusion sounded genuine.
“I won. Twenty five thousand and an exhibition space... They invited me to New York. I just... I can’t even process this right now.”
There was a short breath, followed by a slow exhale.
“Holy hell”
“Yeah,” Layla almost whispered. “That’s pretty much my thoughts exactly.”
After a short pause, Cat piped up, “So what are you gonna do?”
“What do you think? This is my shot. This is me. I’m going!”
Pet Treasure
Pencil Art
Artists Sketch Book
Golden Palette Set
Palette
Blank Canvas
Artist Brushes