Drawing & Painting I [open]

[megan]

Running a hand firmly over a piece of tape, Megan took a minute to survey her handiwork. She had just tacked a note onto the door of her art classroom. The rather sorry looking scrawl on an unlined piece of paper read:

Drawing & Painting I will meet in the Garden Courtyard today! 2pm

-Megan Z.

Pleased with it (and hoping her students knew how to read and would not sit in the empty classroom until long after the lesson was supposed to have started), she slung her backpack over one shoulder and picked up the large crate of supplies she'd set down against the wall. Dressed in a pair of paint stained jeans and a purple, ruffled blouse, she then made her way to the ground floor. Making a point to avoid the elevators, she somehow managed to get down the large staircase without tripping or dropping any of her heavy load. Then it was a short trip out one of the back doors and into the beautiful gardens.

There was still a good hour before her class started, but it was an hour well needed. Scoping out the best area, she dropped her things on a a wrought iron bench and set about setting up a number of easels. The hedge maze was standing tall behind her as she decided to have her students face the school. Silas too loomed over head, the old building dancing in the light and shadows of the afternoon glow. She couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day, the sun high in the sky and not a cloud in sight. That was mainly why she'd chosen to have class outside today. Megan hated being indoors and often went out of her way to have classes outside instead of in the classroom. Chances are most of her classes would either be held in the gardens or by the lake, her students forced inside only on rainy days.

The simple watch which hid one of her wrist banded tattoos chimed the fifteen minute alarm she'd set just as she finished setting the last easel with blank paper, a box of sketching pencils, kneaded eraser, and a standard sketchbook that would be used for all homework assignments. Painting would come later, after they'd mastered the basics. All set up, the woman ungracefully flopped herself down onto the bench, using the now empty crate as a foot rest. She fished in her bag for the water bottle she'd brought and took a long sip. Then she waited, eager and excited to see who would be in her first intro class of the semester.

[kathryn]

Kathryn was extremely excited for her next class. She loved everything about painting and drawing, and it served as an outlet for her frustrations. Lately there had only been one in her life... but she was getting over it. Other than popping up at the most inappropriate moments, she hated to say it, but Matty was starting to grow on her a little bit. He lost mega points in the beginning because of the whole cochlear thing, but Kathryn had nearly forgotten about it. Having him around in math class wasn’t that bad either... he was good at it. Kathryn, however, was not the best when it came to numbers. Art was something she was great at, in science she was decent... everything else she was average. In Math? She was lost. It was like a foreign language to her. As a matter of fact she didn’t do her math homework last night for the sole reason that it was giving her a headache.

She wound up, instead, putting her iPod into the speakers, and then her big headphones into those said speakers, and cranking the volume so loud the beats bounced off her ears. She could feel the vibrations, and i was a lot better than nothing. She was sure that at some point people had heard the music, but she didn’t care. She saw the note on the door to the classroom before Matty had arrived and decided just to head to class without him. She wondered what they would be doing in class today, drawing or painting? If they were drawing, Kathryn wondered if the teacher had any charcoal. She could do wonders with it, even if her hands looked like they were covered in Ash after.

Walking outside she looked around for her teacher, spotting her sitting on a bench, she saw that there many easels set yo, facing the school. Were they going to have to sketch the school? Kathryn never really thought about the concept before. Sure the school was marvellous, but Kathryn would have rather captured it through a cameralense then edit it afterwards. Walking over to an empty easel, she took her necklace off and put it on it. That was going to be her easel, for now. Now, she walked over to her teacher and sat down beside her, as she waited for the other students, and Matty, to arrive. ”I’m Kathryn.” she said, sort of timidly. She was always a big artist, but what if this teacher said she was no good? It made her feel a little insecure about... well... everything.

outfit

[blake]

Blake walked down the hallways filled with crowded students, checking each door number for her classroom's number. She twirled a piece of her blonde hair around her finger, a habit that she could never nor had attempted to break. She finally found the Drawing and Painting 1 class room. But before she could open the door she noticed a crudely written note tacked to the door.

The note read: Drawing and Painting 1 will meet in the Garden Courtyard today! 2pm. Blake let out a sigh, although she didn't really mind going to her art class, knowing that she would have to walk all the way out to the garden wasn't helping with the class' first impressions. Still twirling her hair she made her way out to the garden courtyard.

The only reason she had even chose this class was that she needed another class for her schedule to be considered exceptable. She decided to choose an art class thinking that the rules would be more relaxed and they would just do arts and crafts all day like when she was in preschool. Blake was never a fan of academics and was hoping that this class would give her a break from just that.

With those thoughts in mind Blake finally arrived at the garden. Her brown eyes took in all of the art supplies the teacher had set out. A small frown appeared on her face after seeing no finger paints. Great . . . this wasn't my best idea. With a sigh Blake walked over to the rest of the group. "Hey, I'm Blake." Without even waiting for a response the blonde found a place at an easel and popped a piece of gum in her mouth in the hopes that it may keep her entertained.

[matthias]

The drawback to being Kathryn's interpreter was that her class list mostly determined his. So he ended up with an elective or two he really wasn't all that keen on and had gotten a little ambitious when it came to planning his course schedule. To make sure he'd get at least one class he knew wouldn't bore him to death, he'd picked up an extra subject (fencing). Pity today's class was one of Kathryn's, and it was one he was far from excited about.

Drawing and painting... Matthias's nose crinkled in distaste at the thought of it. He didn't have an artistic bone in his body. No matter how hard he tried, he had long ago declared art as being one of the few subjects he just couldn't be good at and did his best to have as little interaction with it as possible. And yet somehow here he was, taking an intro course. At least he would have Kitten to pester through the length of it. That always brightened his mood.

Speaking of which, he'd been trudging his way to the classroom when a better idea wedged itself into his head. Ever since he'd discovered he could teleport by thinking of a person instead of a location he had taken advantage of it. Today would be no exception. One minute he was making his way down the hall; the next he had vanished completely.

Seconds later he reappeared in one of the last places he'd expected. His plan had been to pop into the available seat next to Kathryn. Instead what he got was a rather painful landing on the arm of a bench in the gardens. Yelping, Matt fell to the ground, hands clutching at his privates as he tried to keep tears out of his eyes. Sure he wasn't very good at landings, but this had been one of his worst yet. The only bright side was that he had actually made it on time to class for once and that the only ones around to see his blunder were the professor, his Kitten, and some blond chick he didn't know.

[nikki]

Dian made her way to the gardens, fortunately getting there easily. She had originally gone around looking for the class room until someone told her where the class was.Art was just about her favorite thing in the world. It was something she had been doing for a while, and she gladly took this class. What else was she going to do for arts anyway? Photography just wasn't for her, and she was pretty good with drawing and painting. Dian saw all of the easels lined up and thought that this held promise. Now if only she knew what they would be doing today.

She looked around, she wasn't the first person there, and she was glad of it. Now she didn't have to talk, she just had to sit and listen. Dian ran her fingers through her (now) bright red hair. She fixed he hair, making sure none of it were in her eyes and pulled it back. She couldn't wait for this class to start, it would probably be her favorite of all she would have in this academy. She pulled out a few of her items from her bad, and plopped herself down near the teacher. Around her, people were making quick introductions, but Dian didn't feel the need to speak without being spoken too. She didn't want to use words, and it would remain that way until absolutely necessary, so she just sat there doing basically nothing.

[eagle]

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[atrb=background,http://i1228.photobucket.com/albums/ee441/sekhmetwolf/graphics/Wyobot.png] Wyoming wasn't a very social person, and she tried to stick to the classes that would be less crowded than others, or where she didn't have to do a lot of conversating with anyone else. She blinked several times, as she walked down the corridor, slowing, going back and forth between her schedule, and the classrooms, trying to spot her art class. Coming upon the door, as she started to reach for the handle, she noticed a piece of paper tacked to the door, that led her back outside. "Damn." She slightly mumbled under her breath, so no one else would hear here, before getting a bit louder. "I just came from outside! Rushing to get here, now I'll probably be late to class." She stomped her foot on the ground before turning on her heels, and heading for the elevator. She pushed the button with her right index finger, and looked at the doors, waiting for the elevator to arrive. She started to tap her foot as she waited, letting out a small sigh of frustration before turning, and heading towards the stairs. Just as she opened the door, she heard the dinging of the elevator as it arrived. She growled again. "This is just not my day!" She yelled out of frustration, but headed quickly down the stairs. Coming to the outside, she looked left, and right, before heading off towards the Garden courtyard. Upon arriving there, she let out a small sigh of relief, seeing as others were there, and communicating with the teacher, which hopefully didn't notice her coming in. She nodded in everyone's direction, whether they were looking at her or not, and took a seat at an easel, furthest away from everyone, and blinked several times, crossing her hands over on her lap.

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[megan]

Slowly but surely the students began to trickle in, a little put off by the extra walk but looking no worse for the wear. Okay, the only boy to show up was, but that was entirely his own fault. First to show up was a younger brunette that introduced herself as Kathryn. Next came the blond she recognized from the incident in the simulation room, Blake. The boy who landed wrong on the bench was next, and while she was trying extremely hard to hide her amusement behind her hand an unnatural redhead and an Asian looking girl joined them.

It was a good thing the later arrivals had decided to simply take their seats. Made it easier to deal with the poor boy rolling on the ground in pain. He certainly did not seem happy to be here, and as she rose to see if he would be okay she was smirking just a little too much. It as awful thing to laugh at the downfall of one of her students like that, but she couldn't help it. He'd thought it was a good idea to materialize out of thin air and now he was paying the price.

"Could someone go get him some ice, please?" she addressed the class. It was almost too lucky that an ice manipulator just happened to be enrolled this semester, so after ten minutes of the boy yelping and squealing and generally making a fool out of himself everyone managed to settle down. She shooed everyone still standing around to easels then, and pulled a few stacks of papers out of her bag. Walking around, she handed everyone a copy of the syllabus, the list of assignments, and an index card. It was time for class to start (albeit a few minutes late).

"Alright, I don't know if this is everyone or not since add/drop is still going on, but let's get started, shall we? If anyone comes in late, they'll just have to catch up.

"Now, if you could all fill out the index cards with your name, year, and email address, I'll collect them at the end of class. More often than not classes will be held either out here or by the lake, so I'll email you the location in advance. The single sheet of paper I just gave you is your assignment list for the semester. The small sketchbooks there are yours to keep and are where I expect assignments to be completed. You'll have two sketches do each week: an assigned still life and a then a composition of your choice. I'll collect sketchbooks the first class of each week and get them back to you last class so you'll have the weekend to complete your work.

The other packet is your syllabus. If you want to leaf through it real quick, you can. I'm just going to point out a few important things. First off, I don't take attendance. So if you want to blow off class and waste your parents' money, that's your call. Your grade is dependent upon assignment completion. Failure to turn in an assignment will lose you a partial letter grade. So if you currently had an A minus and failed to turn in the last project, you'd end up with a B plus. Your sketchbook counts for a full letter grade, so failure to do any homework will drop you from an A to a B. Finally, there are no written exams in this class. Instead, your midterm and final will both be practical. And if I catch anyone submitting someone else's work, you will automatically fail my class. Any questions?"

She finally stopped talking. Thankfully, if they missed anything she'd just said they could find it all within the syllabus. Megan absolutely hated first classes because they involved so much annoying but needed information. She really wasn't as scary as she could come off when blowing through class policy. Before she did take any questions though, she realized she'd forgotten one very important detail. Grinning, she tucked a stray hair behind her ear and finally introduced herself. "For those of you who don't know me yet, my name is Megan Zamorski. You can all call me Meg, and I'll be your instructor for the semester." Then she gave the class a few minutes breathing room before setting them on their first assignment.

ooc: Okay, while I'm gone you guys can keep the class going. For the remainder of the class they will be asked to pick something they see and draw it from observation. First assignment doesn't count for or against their grade, so no worries there. The exercise is to mostly see what talent levels are in the class. Then, next class will be all the boring necessary technical stuff. ~_^

[kathryn]

Kathryn began wondering what was taking Matty so long to get to class.... and just as she thought it a certain young boy had poofed in beside her... Getting his crotch crushed buy the metal bar of a handle on the bench. Kathryn couldn’t retain her laughing. She fell into a fit off giggles that nearly made her double over. Maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing to do in time, but she just couldn’t stop. He fell over and she got up, still giggling like crazy. ”Nice Matty, real smooth.”

[/color] She said helping the poor kid to his feet. She sat him at the bench so he could recover from his... accident. She felt bad, yes, but that didn’t subtract from the humour of the moment.

Kathryn turned back to face the teacher after she had helped, considering her interpreter was indisposed at the moment. She read her lips very carefully so she knew to understand everything. Kathryn watched, and when the teachers lips stopped moving she went to grab the required packages. She did, however, grab another package and put it on the bench next to Matty. Turning back to the teacher, she barely caught her name. But she was glad she did. Kathryn looked through her assignment list to see the first one would be drawing something she saw. Kathryn felt her lips turn up, considering she could draw the look of pain on Matty’s face, but thought otherwise. She, instead, walked over to her easel with her sketch book.

She could go big, and draw the school, or someone else drawing, or a fountain, or something, but that wasn’t Kathryn. She liked to see the little things and draw those. Instead of staying at her easel, she grabbed her necklace, sketch book, pencil, and walked over to where some dandelions were growing in between the cracks in the ground. She felt herself smile as she decided to get started on those. She would draw those, instead of embarrassing Matty by making his humiliation an immortal event.
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[blake]

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words // 767 // outfit // click here // tagged // everyone in the class

I tried to do you right
WHY'D YOU HAVE TO GO AND TURN INTO ICE

"Could someone go get him some ice, please?" Blake raised an eyebrow at the professor. Megan knew that Blake was an ice manipulator after they had met in the simulation room, but surely she couldn't mean what Blake thought she did. "You sure?" At the teacher's nod Blake shrugged, "If you say so." She walked over to the cringing boy, and held out her hand. In only two seconds a thin layer of ice had appeared on the teen's delicate area. It was thin enough that it would melt in around fifteen minutes, but Blake was sure that it would still be a bit of an inconvenience. Whether the teacher meant that or not Blake didn't know, but no one had told her otherwise.

Once everyone had returned to her seats the professor began to talk a bit about the class they had signed up for. "Now, if you could all fill out the index cards with your name, year, and email address, I'll collect them at the end of class. More often than not classes will be held either out here or by the lake, so I'll email you the location in advance." Well, at least I won't be stuck in a classroom for this class. "The single sheet of paper I just gave you is your assignment list for the semester. The small sketchbooks there are yours to keep and are where I expect assignments to be completed. You'll have two sketches do each week: an assigned still life and a then a composition of your choice. I'll collect sketchbooks the first class of each week and get them back to you last class so you'll have the weekend to complete your work." Blake wasn't very thrilled about her talking about the homework assignments, but it sounded better than some of the other giant assignments she received from her other classes, not like she completed all of them anyway.

"The other packet is your syllabus. If you want to leaf through it real quick, you can. I'm just going to point out a few important things. First off, I don't take attendance. So if you want to blow off class and waste your parents' money, that's your call." Blake shrugged, her parents had plenty of money. And it wasn't like it costed a fortune to stay at the school anyway. "Your grade is dependent upon assignment completion. Failure to turn in an assignment will lose you a partial letter grade. So if you currently had an A minus and failed to turn in the last project, you'd end up with a B plus. Your sketchbook counts for a full letter grade, so failure to do any homework will drop you from an A to a B." Now that Blake didn't like one bit. She normally didn't end up with very good grades in any of her classes, but she still tried to land at least a passing grade. Her teacher's little rule made it so she would have to turn in almost all of the assignments the professor gave her. Blake groaned inwardly and rested her chin on her hand. "Finally, there are no written exams in this class. Instead, your midterm and final will both be practical. And if I catch anyone submitting someone else's work, you will automatically fail my class. Any questions?" The nineteen year old didn't have a single questions, but waited for any other students to ask anything that may have slipped the blonde's mind.

"For those of you who don't know me yet, my name is Megan Zamorski. You can all call me Meg, and I'll be your instructor for the semester." Blake stared blankly at the teacher, and waited until she gave them their first assignment.

The assignment was to draw something from observation, and the blonde quickly followed Kathryn's lead and left her easel so that she may get a closer look at any drawing subjects. Blake herself wasn't a very good drawer, at least when it came to drawing people. Her artwork is what she called 'abstract', but it was mostly just drawing random designs that popped into her head. Having no intentions of drawing anything difficult, Blake sat herself down next to the bench that the redheaded boy had recently landed on. On the side of the stone bench were cury markings carved into the stone. Embedded artistically around the design were various colorful stones, shiney and smooth. The markings seemed simple enough that Blake could draw it without it looking completely awful. She picked up her pencil and set to work with her sketchbook.

notes // None

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[matthias]

The poor boy was in too much pain to notice anyone else showing up. Instead he had curled himself into a fetal position, trying his hardest to not whimper in despair. It didn't help that the teacher seemed to be finding amusement in his pain. Professional much? He thought not. And then there was Kathryn, darling Kathryn, laughing her head off at his misfortune. Of course she was enjoying this a little too much. She had been trying to dislike him from day one (keyword being trying, of course).

She was at least kind enough to help him up, and though he tried to glare at her for laughing in the first place he only seemed to muster up a grimace. And then the blond came over and made things worse. When Professor Zamorski had called for ice, he was pretty sure this wasn't what she'd had in mind. Having some chick freeze his privates was just about his breaking point. Leaping from the bench, he yelped in pain and cold as the ice coated his lower half. Tears were glistening in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall, as he barked out his complaints. "The hell you bitch!?"

After that he sunk back onto the bench, desperately trying to unfreeze his lower half as inconspicuously as possible. It still hurt, but the ice did numb some of the pain. And, of course, humiliation was doing a fine job of eradicating any physical pain. Emotional pain was always much, much worse.

What seemed like agonizing hours (but was really only a handful of minutes) passed by and Matty finally managed to gain some self-control. By now he mostly looked like he'd peed his pants, and though the teacher hadn't told him off for swearing the fact that she still seemed to be trying not to laugh at him was punishment enough. Slowly he made his way towards one of the remaining easels, careful to pick one as far away from the rest of the class (Kathryn included) as possible. Interpreter or not, for once he had no desire to sit next to his beloved assignment; he didn't want her seeing him in such a state of disgrace.

Meg (as that was what their teacher insisted she be called) prattled on about the syllabus after things had settled down a bit. The boy, of course, paid no attention. She'd said it was all there in the papers she'd handed out anyways, and he had bigger problems at the moment. Most of the pain had receded by now, but the humiliation was still as present as ever. He met no one's eyes as he glanced around at his classmates (all female - boy did he really feel out of place now) and then picked a spot on his easel to stare fixedly at until the rest of the class period had passed.

Questions and answers finished, their first assignment was to draw something from observation. That didn't sound too hard, he thought. How difficult could it be to copy something he was looking at? Well, first he had to actually find something to look at... And then he had to figure out how to turn it into a two-dimensional drawing... Matty grabbed a pencil and the sketchbook off his easel and continued to stare. He wasted a good twenty minutes just staring at the blank canvas. Then a brilliant idea hit him!

Flipping open to the first page in the sketchbook, he silently declared that redemption was his. How could he possibly go wrong with this perfect idea for a composition? Certainly no other student would be clever enough to think of it! It was just too bad his execution was lacking. In the span of five minutes, ten with a few finishing touches, he'd drawn a rectangle with three prongs sticking out of the bottom and a forth prong attached to the top. A scraggly line represented the grass.

Aside from the severe lack of shading and the fact that pretty much everything was disproportionate (none of the prongs were the same size and his rectangle looked a little more like a rhombus), he thought it looked a lot like what he was going for. Matty had drawn the easel in front of him. He then set his materials down, cheeky that he had completed the assignment so easily and wondering how to spend the rest of class. Maybe he would go pester Kathryn out of revenge. He'd just have to work up the nerve to hover over her shoulder first.

[nikki]

~my internet hates me just skip me for now, I'll catch up later~