ArchivedLogs:Art and Beauty

Art and Beauty
Dramatis Personae Aloke, Jackson, Kris	2013-05-16 '
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 morning around school, bright and -- well, not /that/ early, really, the bell has just rung for the morning break; today, an assembly though what the students are being talked at about at the moment is anyone's guess. Mandatory for them but not mandatory for teachers, Jax is tidying up the art room post-class. He looks -- well, to be honest, half like one of the students /himself/; young enough to perhaps /be/ a teenager, with his peacock-bright green-blue-purple hair and dozens of piercings and colourful tattoos, his unprofessional attire (black capri jeans festooned liberally with pockets and zippers and straps, a red t-shirt reading 'All my heroes have FBI files' around an image of a monkey wrench, glittering makeup dusting his lips and his one eye) does not help detract from that impression. Right now he is standing by the sink, gently squeezing excess paint from paintbrushes and rinsing them clean. Also humming, bright and cheery, a refrain from the latest single by Ryan Black; he bounces absently on the toes of his chunky platform sneakers as he works. A soft flash of white light over by the big windows announces Aloke's arrival. It's about as bright as a camera flash, which isn't much with the gorgeous morning light streaming in behind him now. He's wearing chinos, a Clash t-shirt, and is barefoot. At least his hair seems under control. He looks a little out of breath, and then glances around and seems relieved. "Jeez, I thought that bell was for my class!" He takes a deep breath and finally steps closer to the sink, picking up a brush to help clean. "It's Jackson, right? I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to meet yet. I'm Aloke, the new guy." He smiles, but doesn't offer to chake hands, probably considering the fact that they're both covered in cleaner and thinning paint. The flash draws Jax's attention, head turning slightly towards the shift in light. There's a moment after this where his gaze just fixes on Aloke, blue eye slightly wider before his cheeks flush faintly pink and he turns back to his work. He shifts to one side, a little, to make room for Aloke at the sink. "Hi!" His tone is warm, cheerful, a thick southern drawl coating his words. "Aloke? Right, I heard you were starting. I'm Jax, yeah. Did you -- come in the windows?" He sounds just slightly perplexed. Who Has What Mutant Powers is not part of the standard new-faculty-welcome emails. Admittedly, though, only /slightly/ perplexed. This /is/ Xavier's. "Oh, yeah, sorry about that," Aloke says, glancing back toward the window. "I lost track of time down by the lake, so I flashed in. Fortunately these windows are clear enough to let me through." Aloke watches his work for moment, apparently still getting used to being able to talk so openly, and then adds, "I can, um.. I travel as light." Perhaps wanting to shift the topic off of himself he moves right on to, "Kurt tells me you're quite adept at lighting, yourself." "Oh! /As/ light, wow, that's --" Jax quiets for a moment, turning slightly to consider the window. Then Aloke. "-- Real neat." His cheeks flush a little darker. "I play with light," he acknowledges. "Store it. Bend it. Focus it. How're you settling in, so far?" Rinse, rinse; he's gentle with the bristles, dabbing them in a small bit of soap in his palm. "Can be kinda a change, can't it?" Nodding, Aloke is thoughtful for a moment and says, "Definitely a big change, but honestly? Its the best choice I've ever made. I've been hiding for a long time, and the stress of keeping my secret was really getting to me." A beat passes as he gives the seriousness a moment, then he laughs to clear the dark clouds, a bright, cheerful sound. "And that /teacher's lounge/ - are you kidding me? Screw tenure. Xavier's got my vote, mind control or no." His smiles touches his eyes, which over here, away from the windows, actually start to show the ever-present glow. In low-light they would be quite obvious, an amber-orangey light emanating from behind his brown eyes. "Yeah," Jackson's smile is quick and warm, "I can get that. It gets tiring out -- well. S'just kinda like a breath of fresh air to have a place to be yourself. Welcome t'Xavier's, then." The smile brightens into a /grin/. "Just wait to start thinkin' 'bout tenure till after the third or fourth time a kid's accidentally torched your work." Though he sounds more amused than actually warning. He glances upwards, a side-flick of gaze that lingers on those glowing eyes. "-- S'gorgeous," is his automatic assessment, before he flushes and adds apologetically: "I just mean it's kind of stupid to have to hide something so --" His head shakes. "Where were you before here?" The older man smiles gently, keeping his eyes on the brushes for a moment. "Thank you," he says to the comment about his eyes, but its the tone of a straight guy very used to being around his gay contemporaries and more than a little used to being hit on. The curse of the handsome man! Aloke also seems aware enough to let Jackson change the subject. "Oh, I was at NYU for a while. Jeez, the /bureaucracy/ out there. God forbid you want to change the brand of hand towels in your studio, let alone challenge something in the curriculum." He chuckles and shakes his head, handing a couple of finished, clean brushes to Jax before picking up another dirty one and running it under the water. This earns a laugh, a slight crinkle of Jax's nose. "Oh, gosh, yeah. School administration is like --" His head shakes. He takes the clean brushes, blotting them gently against a paper towel before sitting them on their handles in a jar to dry. "Kinda a change, then, comin' to high school after. For better or worse I don't know. You'll probably have a whole lot more flexibility, s'for sure. Sorta an entirely different level of teaching, though. You looking forward to it or dreading it? The lounge," he adds solemnly, "at least has a lot of booze for when you're done with a full week of teenagering. Or a full day, on the rough ones." "Yeah, I can admit to rifling through the bar a bit down there." Aloke pauses briefly as he glances sidelong at his new colleague, probably trying to determine if the other man is even old enough to drink. "The collection is impressive. So how long have you been here?" "Is pretty impressive, yeah. Never actually had any myself," Jax admits with a crooked grin, "though I think I singlehandedly empty the coffeemaker a /few/ times a day. I've --" He is sort of slowly-washing the last of the brushes, now, fingers pressing at the bristles in absent-habitual washing. "--been here since I was, uh, thirteen or so actually, I half grew up on this campus. But I just been teaching since -- last spring. I actually have a really hard time, um, remembering not to still call everyone Professor -- /I/ took class with most'a our colleagues." "Oh well hey, congratulations! Too bad I missed your graduation, but well done." Aloke sets the last of the brushes into the jar with the others, and leans back against the sink, wiping his hands on a paper towel. A couple drops of bright blue paint stand out on the dark skin of his bare feet, but he doesn't seem to mind, or notice. "You made it through high school - arguably the most challenging period of anybody's life." He crumples the paper towel and drops it in the trash nearby, and crosses to a cupboard he appropriated earlier in the week, neatly labeled 'Suresh's stuff'. He opens it to reveal among other things a plugin hot-pot for water, a box Assam tea, and some paper cups. "You want some?" he asks, jiggling the tea box. "I haven't actually graduated yet." Jax's blush deepens here, spreading -- straight /out/ of his skin to tint the air around him faintly red. "I mean, well, high schoo, but college I'm still sort of /slogging/ through. Cooper Union. Oh wow, yeah, I love Assam. And pretty much might as well hook a caffeine drip up to my /arm/ for how much I go through." He rinses off his hands, flicking excess water off of them but not bothering to dry them further save a brief pat against his jeans. "Oh, man, though," his smile is a little crooked, hand lifting to rub at the back of his neck. "If high school's the hardest time of life for most of these kids, I'll consider our job well done. /Um/. Not -- not that I think we should be /making/ things hard for them," he awkwardly-clarifies, "just the world can be so rough and if we've prepped them for it enough to make it easier --" He shrugs. "It ain't gonna be easy for a lot of 'em. You been in New York all your life or did you just come here for school?" Aloke nods as he plugs in the hot pot and sets the other stuff down on the counter. The pot immediately starts chugging and bubbling, working at heating up the water inside. "No, I agree, our job has to be to make it as easy as possible on them. And especially our kids here, right? It's not easy growing up different, whatever flavor you get." He smiles and shakes his head, experiencing his own silent memories. "And yeah, born and raised New Yorker. I love it here. I've been in the city pretty much forever until now. It'll take some getting used to, all this green stuff growing right out of the ground, but I think I'll come around eventually." The light in his eyes flashes when he smiles. "Naw, it ain't easy. But having safe places helps." Jackson's smile brightens, too, though without the accompanying flash. Just a flash of white teeth, a slight crinkle of nose. "Where I grew up it was pretty much all green all the time. The concrete was hard to get used to. I think you pretty much adjust to anything after a while, though. And they both got their own kindsa pretty. I didn't used to see it, as much, in buildings, but one'a my best friends is an architect and he took me out on a --" His fingers flutter vaguely. "Walking around. Looking at the most fascinating ones. Started to really appreciate the incredible work that goes into some'a that design." His hand rubs at the back of his neck again. "Maybe I'm just losing my roots," though he sounds amused at this rather than genuinely worried. "Turning into a city boy after all." "No no, I can see your roots," Aloke grins, tugging at the base of his own hair, possibly indicating where Jax's purple hair might be growing out a little bit. "They're right there." Aloke keeps grinning and tenses, possibly ready to duck any thrown objects. Bold move - a real champ at making new friends, this guy is. Aloke is currently leaning against the counter near where Jax is standing. On the counter is a burbling hot-pot which probably has something to do with the box of tea sitting out, and the empty paper cups. Tea in potentiality. The pot suddenly and loudly clicks off, indicating its readiness, and Aloke jumps, his glowing eyes flashing bright for a moment. "Jeez, that gets me every time." He drops a tea bag each into one of two cups, and pours the water. Kris has gotten a newish iPod. Mainly because her adoptive parents are still intent on spoiling the crap out of her, likely. As she pushes through the door, sorting through big pieces of paper and arts supplies, she is singing along in that throaty, somewhat raspy voice of hers,"-like no matter what I do, I can't convince you just to hear me out-" Linkin Park, the angst-music of choice for young emo teenagers everywhere. She's even skipping along with it. So engrossed in her activity is she, she doesn't realize she's in company... until she notices Jax and Aloke there... Then she sort of pales in embarassment and yanks her earbuds out, gathering up the supplies she'd just dumped on the table in a flurry,"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt!" The way her eyes flick between the two, it is clear: She thinks these two are up to... SHENANIGANS! "/Pffff/." This earns a bright grin and a quick laugh, from Jackson; there /is/ a thrown object! Or at least a flying one; a small -- pillow? That appears out of nowhere to zoom across the room and PAF Aloke in the face. At least it /would/ paf Aloke in the face if it had any substance at all. But it doesn't, formless, feeling like nothing at all past a very faint increase in warmth before the not!pillow disappears. Jax's hair, meanwhile, is shifting, from peacocky shades over to bright red. His makeup changes, too -- shifting from glittering red to the peacocky greenpurpleblues that his hair had been before. "/So/ not true, I don't even dye it." Because why spend the time when he can change it with a thought? "-- Oh, hi!" He gives Kris a wide bright smile. "You ain't interrupting nothin'. What's up?" Aloke laughs, not even close to avoiding the illusory pillow. Then he's pulling himself together in the presence of a student, though he's apparently clueless as to any impression of shenanigans that may have been given. Adults goof off too! Aloke hands a cup steaming cup to Jax who seems to know the tall girl, and then approaches her himself to offer his hand. "Hi, I'm Professor Suresh, the newest art teacher." Suresh is wearing a Clash t-shirt, chinos, and is barefoot. Kris looks absolutely still mortified... Rather because she was interrupting, or because she got caught singing is anyone's guess. Still, when Jax's makeup changes on its own, she practically makes an ear-piercing SQUEE! "Oh. My. God." She crosses her chest absently, "You are more glamorous than Lady Gaga and young Madonna making out. Your makeup! You look like a handsome pirate! Like... Like Johnny Depp and Bill Thompson had a baby!" Then she sees Suresh and immediately develops the mixture of blushing and shyness some young girls often develop around attractive older men. She squeaks, "Hello Professor Suresh." Jackson blushes at this, his smile curling wider. "Oh, gosh. Me, glamorous?" His fingers scuff through his now-red hair -- it matches his red 'All my heroes have FBI files' t-shirt -- and then fidgets a little self-consciously with the strap of his eyepatch. "I mean, thanks. I have been known to swash some buckles on occasion." His gaze flicks between Kris and Aloke, and he takes the cup of tea with a cheerfully chirruped, "thanks! -- Aloke, this is Kris. She's a pretty new student here, too." He glances at the supplies in her hand. "You interested in art?" Aloke follows along grinning at Kris' apt description of his young colleague, and then smiles and nods at her greeting. "Well its nice to meet you, Kris." He sips at his tea, and then gestures to the pot. "There's more hot water if its not too weird to have a cup of tea with your teachers?" Kris makes a loud indiscriminate squeaking sound as she moves to pour herself tea. Apparently much conversation with Aloke that doesn't involve squeaking is unlikely for her right now. She huddles her face down into the cup, and uses it to hide her gaze. That way, she can actually TALK. To Jackson, she blushes, clears her throat, and nods, "I love your makeup, sir. I wish I could look half as pretty. I'm still just really conquering the 'femme-before-gorgeous' concepts right now, though." She licks her lips, and then informs Jackson, "Sort of, sir... I... It's art therapy. I'm not very good." She suddenly smiles, "Good tea." "Good's pretty subjective," Jax says lightly, tipping his face downwards to inhale some of the tea. "Do you /like/ making art? Does it help you?" He leans back against the edge of the counter, taking a careful tentative sip of the tea. He sucks in a quick breath -- hot! "You look plenty pretty all on your own. Though if y'ever want to borrow some makeup there's plenty of folks around here who -- my kid," yes, he just said that, despite -- barely looking out of high school himself, "-- s'usually stolen half my collection and whisked it off here." Though this statement makes his smile fade, just slightly. "-- Though to me makeup's kind of an art all in itself." Aloke sighs in good humor. "Ug, I dunno about you, Professor Holland, but word 'good' in the same sentence with 'art' really bugs me." He smiles gently trying not to stare Kris down with his backlit brown eyes, apparently picking up on her awkwardness. Instead he glances out the window and says, "Making art is about communicating something to the viewer. Or the reader, or the listener. Whatever. Its about telling your story. And in my experience, a story can't be good or bad... it's just /yours/." He nods at Jax and says, "That includes the art of applying makeup, in my opinion. A complete mystery to me, but your professor here is obviously accomplished. What a fascinating canvas that must be to work with - a person's /face/." He seems truly interested in what the other two might have to discuss about makeup in general. Kris leans up to ask Jax in a whispered voice,"Is... is he a hippie, sir?" Then she's speakinf more loudly for everyone's benefit,"Shane, right? Yeah... me and him kind of used some silver eyeliner to make another student look pretty. We don't get along so well except when we talk about makeup... He's troubled, but I think he's a lot of fun, really. He's amazing with stringed instruments." She looks a little solemn at that, but does offer a momentary thanks for her compliments,"I think my art's a little... hackneyed... I only seem to ever draw pictures of how pretty I want to be or things that happened in the jungle... It's like I'm stuck on repeat." For once, she's actually able to look AT Aloke when speaking. "We're art teachers," Jackson says lightly, "I think we're /required/ to be hippies." The smile dims a little further at the mention. "-- Shane steals my eyeliner, but Bastian steals my /everything/. Lipsticks. Skirts. All of it. And yeah, Shane can be kinda rough but he's -- just been through a lot. He's sweet when he can check his temper." His brow furrows, head shaking abruptly. "It's a whole different sort of canvas, yeah, when you're working with -- I mean you gotta work /with/ a person. You ain't always trying to hide nothing so much as -- bring /out/ their beauty more. Cuz everyone's got it." OK, totally hippie. He sips slowly at his tea. "You know, for me sometimes art's a pretty helpful way to process things. When the world's kind of horrible and not-right. Sorta channel it into /making/ something -- it can really help." Aloke nods along with Jax's point about processing things. "I was hiding in plain site for year in New York. A lot of the pieces I produced depicted light emerging from all over the place. It was how I could express myself without outing myself as a mutant." Aloke takes a seat on one of the stools and leans back against a cabinet, cupping his tea in both hands, enjoying the heat and smell of it. "I can imagine what you mean, Holland. I've heard sculptors say similar things. And sometimes I feel the same about whats coming out of my canvas." He sighs and says, "Kris, you draw whats in your heart. Technique is just for fun. If you ever want to study drawing techniques we'll talk, but drawing from the heart is step one." Kris pops herself on top of an art table,"Yeah. Bastian has great taste in blouses. But I don't think he likes me very much. I get along better with Shane, I think. God help whoever took them. Don't know what they're getting into. It'll be nice to have them back around. They're honest. I like it." She swings her feet with a sort of useless look on her face,"How do you FEEL beautiful, then? That's what I want? I live in constant anticipation of the day I'm old enough to find a good cosmetic surgeon." She makes a face, and mutters a bit less adultly,"I want boobs alright." HUFF. Arms cross over her chest as she sets her teacup down,"Everything I draw is too... dark and stilted. It needs help. Not like you. I bet your light introspectives were AWESOME!" "You are beautiful. You feel beautiful by figuring out what that means to /you/ and not just -- letting the world tell you what it should mean." Jackson takes a longer drink of his tea, his fingers curled tight around it. "I don't think that's probably true. It's been a /weird/ time for them, they probably just --" Jackson hesitates, a slight flush in his cheeks. His gaze fixes on the floor for a moment; when he looks up again, it's with a quick smile. "-- Wow, um, there's gonna be class again soon, I should -- it was real nice to meet you, Aloke, m'sure I'll see you around plenty. And Kris --" The smile brightens somewhat. "You're already beautiful. And I'd love it if you joined one'a the art classes here." Aloke's expression softens when he picks up on Jackson's reaction. He has a much more accurate read on adults and this is pretty obvious to him. Too bad they don't know each other well yet. The young man could probably use a friend right now. Instead, Aloke lets him go and says, "I couldn't agree more, Professor Holland. And... I'll see you after class." Code for - I'm here if you need a friend, new or not. "And yes, Kris, the art room is open to you any time. Beauty is discovered, not created." "I'm a teenager. I take most of my self-worth from the people around me. I'm pretty sure that's in a book somewhere." Still it gets a smile, and she pulls a thing of eyeliner out of her pocket and pushes it into one of Jackson's hands,"This is the eyeliner I was playing with when I last saw Shane." Then she gathers her art supplies, and looks between the two teachers,"You two have... things to talk about... I'll... probably join an art class once I get a few issues worked out. Thank you, sirs." She pauses and turns as she heads for the door,"It's probably none of my business, but you two make a cute couple." She taps the side of her nose indicating she will keep the secret that totally doesn't exist. "Thank you." This is quieter, still warm but more subdued than Jax's previous energy as he takes the eyeliner. His fingers close around it for a moment as he pockets it -- and then promptly turns bright red. "Oh /gosh/, we ain't a -- I /have/ a -- gaaaah." His hand actually lifts to press against his face. He would probably DOUBLE facepalm if he weren't holding his tea.