ArchivedLogs:Arting

Arting
Dramatis Personae B, Jack, Shane
In Absentia	2015-01-05 '
Location <XS> Art Room - FL2
Smells of paints and chalks and turpentine mingle freely in this room, well-used, well-stocked. Natural light flows in, plentiful through the large windows. The long counter-like tables are speckled with spots of color, and half finished projects often stand on easels or propped in corners. The many cupboards lining the walls are crammed full of art supplies. It's late -- past curfew by now, which means the school is quiet/er/, though it never really entirely goes to /sleep/ fully. Most people have gone to their dorms, though there are a few night-owls scattered here and there around the other areas. The light in the art room is on, indicating at least one such insomniac in here. More than one, really, judging from the low voices coming from behind the art room door. Quiet, words coming soft and not in English. "{... kinda always figured it would end up here /anyway/.}" "{Because you're a huge-ass fucking pessimist.}" "{Because I'm not /naive/.}" In the art room there are a pair of tiny blue shark-pups. More or less identically dressed, at the moment, in pajama pants (black) and grey tee shirts, though one wears a Donatello TMNT hoodie and the other a Raphael. The one in Donatello hoodie is perched at one of the counters, head bowed over -- something. A sculpture of some sort. Half-finished, at the moment it looks like half of a person crouched down, large wings sprouting from their back, legs and arms both currently truncated -- pale in colour, the sculpture appears to be made out of a myriad of bones of a variety of creatures. Possibly some human. Scritchscritchscritch, the sharkpup is working on digging a notch into one of the bones with a claw. The other is pacing, back and forth behind the tables, gills fluttering rapidly. "{Yeah. Maybe. I just...}" Jack had lost track of time in the library, studying and taking care of his first day of homework. He was dragging his feet a little on going back to his room though, avoiding it a little more now that break was over. The light from the art room caught his attention and now he's poking an invisible head into the room. Still in jeans and a school sweat shirt, he smiles when he spots the sharkpups. "Hey," he greets, stepping fully into the room. "Working late on something?" he asks, slowly looking towards the sculpture. When it registers with him that he's looking at bones, his eyes widen slightly. "{Just give it up. /We're/ the only family we're ever --}" The quiet Vietnamese cuts off abruptly at the sound of the door opening, the smell of someone else arriving. Twin pairs of enormous black eyes turn sharply to fix on the door. For a long beat there is quiet. Then a shake of head. "It's not work," answers the pup at the table. "Hi." "Just not tired yet," says the other, pacing ceasing; they walk closer to the table to lean against it, reaching out a clawed hand to fiddle with something that might once have been a finger. Toying with it restlessly. "How was your break?" Jack wasn't quite sure what to say about the bone sculpture, shifting awkwardly. Thankfully the twins speak up and he looks back towards them. "Okay, arting something...wait, that's not a word," Jack tries to joke. He shrugs one shoulder in reply to the question. "It was alright. Really quiet though. And I'm a little glad its over," he says, looking between the two. "Yours any good?" "Arting can be a word," says the standing twin, with a shrug of one shoulder. "Verb conversion has been part of the English language for forever." "Arting, yes," says the other one, plucking the finger-bone back. "A sculpture, I guess. Why are you glad it's over?" "Okay, I guess it is a word then," Jack glances aside, rubbing the back of his neck. Looking back to the twins, he smiles even if it can't be seen. "Well, classes started back up and there's more people around. I was looking forward to both," he replies. "And it was starting to feel like I was haunting the hallways with so many people away." "It's not like there's not plenty of people here, too." Thing One relinquishes the finger-bone with a shrug, moving to take a seat and rest an elbow on the table. Cup head in a palm, eyes drifting half-closed. "School for freaks," Thing Two agrees wryly, "always felt like we were the weirdos, so many people don't --" A shrug here, too. "What classes are you taking? Anything fun?" Jack sighs slightly, shoulders slumping a bit at that reply. "Don't what?" he asks. "I wouldn't really call them fun but it's just standard stuff. Math, english, science," he shrugs. "None of it's as bad as I was kind of worried it would be at least. I just need to get back into the whole...school mindset," he says. "What's that a sculpture of?" he asks after a moment, nodding towards the bones on the table. The twins exchange a look when Jack answers; one knits their brows while the other raises them. "Uhhh," says Thing One. While Thing Two: "... but /what/, um, math. Or English. Or science?" "I'm not even sure," Thing One admits with a lopsided twitch of smile, "what 'standard' /means/." "Me neither," admits the other. "Never been to any other schools." Their black eyes drop to the scuplture, brows knitting again. Claws trail through the pile of bones in front of them. "A monster." "Well, I guess it means I'm not taking stuff like hang-gliding or introduction to reality television," Jack jokes a little. "But I've got algerbra, biology, some writing class and some other stuff," he replies, gesturing vaguely with a sleeve. He watches those claws trail through the bones and tilts his head to the side. "A monster?" he hums a little thoughtfully before shrugging again. There's a delay before he asks his next question. "Are those...real bones?" "It will be a monster when it's done," says Thing One, reaching across the table to draw over a sketchpad, flip it open. There's a sketch on it, roughly done -- a malformed sort of gargoyle-creature, emaciated body, bulging eyes, spindly arms and misshapen legs with sharp claws, talon-tipped bat-wings, a too-large mouthful of sharp teeth. Ratlike knobbly whip of a tail. A pair of budding horns. "Maybe a goblin," Thing Two says quietly, swiping a hand kind of /irritably/ at part of the torso as though dissatisfied with it -- some of the bones come clattering off the sculpture to fall to the table. "Yes. Real bones." "Don't worry. They're only bones from people we've killed. Do we have a hang-gliding class?" For a moment Thing One seems to perk, slightly. "We should totally take hang-gliding." "I think that was a joke." Thing Two's voice is flat. The other twin deflates a little. "... can I have a hang-glider anyway?" Jack steps closer to get a look at the sketch and just ends up tilting his head the other way when he sees the drawn creature. "It looks kind of like one of those statues that are on some churches," the invisible teen replies, making a little frustrated noise as he can't think of the word. "Gargoyles," he says a moment later, finally connecting the word in his mind. He frowns at little at that irritable swipe and glances at the other twin. Of course the comment about the origins of the bones just makes him stare. "Uhh..." he trails off, hoping that's a joke too. "Maybe you could make a hang-glider in that welding class," he suggests. "I'm not taking welding," Thing One answers this. "I just want B to make a hang-glider for me." B just looks puzzled. "... you wouldn't /weld/ a hang-glider." Opening up the sketchbook makes them /shudder/; ze closes it again a moment later. "Gargoyle, I guess. Kind of. Gargoyle. Vampire. Bat. Monster." "Pretty much just a thing that's going to eat you in your sleep." Though this puts a sudden grin, sharp and bright, on the Shane's face. "Kinda fit right in with us, huh?" B exhales sharply. Gills fluttering. Claws raking through bones again. No answer. "Okay, how would you make it then?" Jack's genuinely curious. "Isn't it just like...poles with fabric and a harnass or something?" he asks. No, Jack's never seen a real hang-glider before. "I hope it doesn't try to eat me. I probably don't taste very good," he tries another joke. "Looks like a good sculpture at least. Not that I know much about sculpting or art." "Sure, if you want to die." Shane shrugs, pushing himself upright and curling his arms around his chest. "How /I'd/ make it is I'd say, B, make me a hang-glider." B grimaces, nose crinkling up as her gills flutter faster. "Are you talking about a powered hang glider or no power -- just kind of low-altitude -- I mean, either way, I don't think I'd /recommend/ most people here making their own." Her brows crease at the comment on Jack tasting good. Nose twitching thoughtfully. "It would try to eat you," Shane says. Though he says this with a scowl. "But hopefully it'll never come to school." "Hopefully." B has lapsed back into quiet. A little tenser. Reaching for a large toolbox -- though upon opening it its multiple drawers and compartments all just turn out to be filled with more bones. She starts packing the loose bones scattered on the table away into the box. "I'll pass on the dying," Jack replies. "I was thinking the uh non-powered kind. I didn't even know there were powered hang-gliders," the invisible one replies. "You're probably right though. It doesn't really seem like a school project kind of thing but then again I didn't think tank robots were either and one of them is around," he chuckles. He's smelling better these days than he did when living on the streets. Shane's comment gets him looking as surprised as an empty hood too. "Wait, that's a picture of a real...it's not just a drawing?" "Real," Shane confirms. "Unfortunately." "Jax and Micah's newest adopted monster," B adds, to this. "They won't be around for a bit. Taking leave from work." "Well, Micah's only gonna be gone for a little bit. Think Jax is getting saddled with the monster for the whole rest of term or some shit. No more delicious cookies in the Rec Room. Possibly," Shane adds pensively, "/ever/, if it eats him in his sleep one day once it's learned to crawl. Only just hatched." Jack is quiet as he processes this information. "Hatched...wow," he shakes his head. He glances at the sculpture again as if trying to picture it moving around and trying to eat things. "And it's tried to eat you already or something? Or them?" "Tried to eat Horus first thing," Shane confirms. "Feeds on blood," B explains. "It tries to eat /anyone/ that gets close." "Okay," Jack exhales and stretches a bit. "I think I'll just stay away from...whatever it is then. I mean I normally don't like being around babies but ones that crawl around trying to eat people...yeah..." "Told you," B says patiently. "Gargoyle-vampire-bat-monster." She closes her toolbox on the rest of the bones, carefully moving the unfinished statue off to a shelf. "Babies are /pretty/ fucking gross," Shane agrees. "They were /gonna/ get a new cat but nooooo. I'm," he seems to be announcing this to B more than to Jack, "disowning them." "/I'm/," B says tiredly, picking up the toolbox full of bones, "going to bed. Night, Jack." "I don't know if I'd say monster but...uhh...hazardous fits based on what you've told me," Jack remarks with a shrug. "The grossest and I've trudged through sewers. Babies are worse," he declares with a nod. "Wait...what?" he asks, frowning at Shane. "disowning Jax and Micah?" he's surprised to hear that. "Uh...night..." he trails off. "Yeah," Shane says flippantly, "but /your/ opinion doesn't matter for shit." His lips peel back, sharp teeth baring -- demonstrative, rather than threatening -- as his claws extend, long. "/We're/ the ones who /are/ monsters. And have met the Goblin. And it's /our/ --" He stops here, lips pressing together as his gills flutter again. "... life," B concludes for him. Kind of weary where Shane is flippant. It's the last thing she says before she heads out into the hall. Shane's claws pull back in, shoulders sagging. "Life," he agrees. "G'night, dude." "Just making conversation," Jack mutters as Shane gets all flippant, teeth, and claws at him. He tenses a little at the monster comment, but doesn't say anthing in reply. He waits until B finishes before glancing back to Shane. "Yeah...night," he mutters again, starting to head for the door himself.