John Bothen, Morin Scathe and Riaf Amara
As pictured left to right John, Morin and Riaf are ‘professional’ city loiterers and layabouts who act as though they are joined at the hip; these three expend more energy avoiding work than it would take to do the job.
So far as we can gather they wander the streets, especially after hours and sometimes stand in places, but don’t proactively do anything.
John says he likes whittling wood and that they sometimes play cards.
They express they are not criminals because petty theft ‘doesn’t look good on a CV.’
The fact that the irony and sheer stupidity of this statement eludes them probably speaks volumes for their collective intelligence.
However as not to judge we interviewed each separately despite the unified portrait.
John is probably the smartest of the three but he’s so slow and lacking in confidence that he is always overpowered by Morin and Riaf. Having little confidence and slovenly speech John’s opinions are discarded as unintelligent. Although more brawns than brain, we find he is quite astute. He describes the reasons why he isn’t clever, in a far more articulate way than you might expect. That said listening to his long-winded and painfully measured speech we understand why his so-called friends often ask him to stop talking. Securely under the thumb of Morin and Riaf it is apparent that John believes this stigma that he is ‘stupid’ and henceforth he discards good ideas in favour of theirs.
Is quite possibly schizophrenic by our deduction; he may be the jittery sort but it is clear he is leader of their clique.
In person, Morin is like a man who has recently ingested a great deal of amphetamine in so much as he cannot stand still. He likes to nibble his fingers and fluff his orange hair, both of which appear to be degrading and falling out from such intense attention. Morin is not easy to talk to and often sub-switches conversations to the point where we wonder how slow-paced John can ever keep up.
Ultimately paranoid Morin jigs on the spot; he rambles and needlessly fumbles in his pockets. He asks very random questions but never waits for the answer.
A bossy and demanding person he enjoys the company of Riaf and John because they do as he dictates without question. It becomes clear that Morin distrusts everyone and everything and that he is dogged by a severe worry and paranoia he cannot control.
Thankfully Riaf and John are present and able to convince him that the light reflectors aren’t part of any conspiracy to shoot him and we now regret calling the art session a ‘shoot.’
If Riaf looks a bit stoned that’s probably because he is. Riaf is easy-going but he smokes far too much. Clad in buckled black slacks, boots and a three quarter length anorak he resembles a cross between a greasy wyvern rider and your atypical geek. We don’t really want to know what he knows about transport, be it in leathers or the fine tuning of the machine itself. We want to know even less about his other so-called interests and even less about any perversions he has towards the artistic renditions of such things. Yet Riaf does like to talk, in a droll ‘I think I’m entertaining’ point beyond anyone’s ability to actually listen. Although I guess if we were saddled with John and Morin as best friends we’d also talk to ourselves.
Of the few real facts we gleaned we found that Riaf cares little for tradition and regularly horrifies his proud family. Out of the three he has the wealthiest background. He grins at us when explaining how he was ‘meant’ to be another ‘stuffed-up’ member of his house. It seems he cares little for that lifestyle at present and sees wandering the cold cobbled streets as a vague liberation.
We feel it should be noted that Riaf’s fashion sense is roughly as keen as his inability to disobey Morin, i.e. non-existent.