Cowboy Bebop Drawing Novels & Stories

Seemed like they hadn't been touched for a long time. I picked up the first one. It was a portrait of Boomer, drawn as if it was not an artwork but a real picture. The colors blended with each other so well like some professional artist put their heart and soul in it. The second one was of Doser... then another of the boys together… and one of Karen. At the end of the canvases there were written the letters 'H. K.'. H. K. Hunter King. Hunter drew all these? Admiration filled my heart.

Jackie took up one of the drawings and unfolded it carefully. It looked extremely brittle because of its age. The signature on it had faded a little, but the markings of the actual drawing were still crisp and clear. The horses depicted in the drawing had athletic and toned bodies. They marched along the river in triumph, a picture of strength and unity. The signature and the artistic choices made told Holly that this was a drawing from the Wild Horses series by Gunther Hockney. Gunther was a famous artist in the 1800s. No other painters could draw horses as well as he could.

“But you definitely won’t.” I looked at his drawing. He pretty much drew himself twice. “I’m already great,” he said. Bella laughed. Jason laughed harder. Macey finally spoke. “Can you guys shut up?” The room goes quiet for a few seconds. Bella checked Jason’s drawing and lost it. A space cowboy. With a pig. “It’s me in the future,” Jason said. He laughed—but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t know who I want to be,” he admitted quietly.

< Waylon chuckled, >You know I love you. Dante smirked. He reached over the bed and slapped Waylon’s ass. >And you know I love you, mate.< >I do, now go!< Waylon said and covered his head with the yellow blanket. Dante shook his head unamused and walked out of the room. He quickly cleaned the living room and as he was cleaning, he found the drawing that Waylon was talking about. Dante was so confused, he turned the page around to look at the wolf properly. He could tell that the drawing was upside down because Caiden drew himself, too.

Remembering shouldn't be hard but expressing it will be. I think about the various things I have seen in my lifespan. Blood, bullets, pills, dead bodies. I could go on. Most of them aren't really suitable for this environment and explaining it will be impossible. What can I use? There's really nothing I can use that isn't somehow related to my past. Looking over at what Abe's doing, I see that he's drawing I think a scene of trees. Abe draws with these really thin and long lines, which makes his sketch look a lot like an animal's pelt. But I think that's what it is. And there's an outline of mountains in the background. Is that...Lonewood?

"It's settled, then. You will have our protection and a place to stay during your time in Black Creek." As their meeting finally came to an end, I couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the walls adorned with drawings and paintings. The images depicted wolves in various forms, some in fierce battle stances, and others in moments of tranquility. But what struck me the most were the drawings that seemed eerily familiar. I walked closer to one of them, my heart quickening as I realized that the wolf in the drawing was striking a fighting stance that mirrored one I had often used. It was as if the artist had captured my movements with uncanny precision.

Exiting the school I went straight towards the school bus. As I did, I heard a loud vrooming sound of a motorbike. I turned towards the sound to see Connor sitting on his motorbike; both of his hands were on the handlebars, and he was wearing his helmet. His head faced me, and though he wore his dark helmet, I could feel his powerful gaze all over my skin, indicating that he was looking at me. The sound of the bike was his way of gaining my attention.