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Art is Dumb
Dramatis Personae

Jackson, Karolina, Peter

In Absentia


2013-07-30


'

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.

As far as these things went, Karolina was not a natural. With the free time that being a student at Xavier's afforded her, (what with essentially being confined to the campus, and all) she had a little extra time to kinda work on the things she never had the effort to before. Like guitar playing. And painting.

It was the latter that she was kinda goofing with at the moment, her brush dipping into a pool of blue, as she balanced a palette on her forearm. That streak of blue was drawn over to the red, and she kinda swabbed it together, creating a violet on the palette, and she looks up towards the canvas, sticking her multicolored tongue out of the corner of her lip.

What was on the canvas was of a vaguely... um. It was probably an animal of some kind, with four legs. But Karolina looks at it a moment longer, and just kinda sighs, sitting back in her seat and setting the palette aside, as opposed to applying brush back to canvas.

"--what. What /is/ that?" asks Peter Parker, /peering/ at Karolina's work from the other side of the room. Where he's just entered, /sneakily/. Karolina may not have heard him on account of the fact that he isn't walking -- rather, he's crawling along the walls like some sort of scuttling bug. Currently, Peter's clad in a red hoodie (it has a peculiar patch, freshly stitched on, on the upper left chest!), blue sweat-pants, and his funny two-toed socks.

Peter asks this question /just/ as he's in the process of hopping off the wall; a sketch someone posted on the wall is now clinging to his palm as he lands. He stares at it furiously and proceeds to /flap/ his arm, the paper making a rumpling sound. Until finally, he /snatches/ it off and carefully attempts to pin it back to its place on the wall.

There was a bit of a start from Karolina, from where she stood by the easel, kinda pausing to glance over her shoulder to see...! Well, a wall-crawler, her eyes kinda flickering up towards Peter. 'lina, for her part, had a bandana tying her hair back, what looked like a jean jacket worn over a blouse, and jeans with flared cuffs. And sandals on her feet. The sandals had sunflowers on the bit that goes over your toes. The colors were less important, (or maybe more important), as the young woman flickered and glowed with all the colors of the rainbow, and that went for her clothes as well.

"Well, um...!" Remember the way that Karolina tended to blush? Where the rainbow colors over her face kinda drifted towards the red? She was doing it now. "It's an owl," she says, biting her lower lip. "With a cat. I mean it's... I'm... practicing, not really... painting just yet, I guess" she says with a heady sigh. "Is that a new invention of yours? Sticky gloves?" she asks, after observing the stuck hands.

"/No/," Peter says, perhaps a bit more forcefully than he intends to -- but it probably has a lot to do with his frustration re: the sketch he's trying to repin to the wall. Carefully /smoothing/ it out. He managed to tear the upper bit of paper off the tack; luckily, the tear does not extend into the sketch itself! But someone might be unappreciative of Peter's addition anyway. He frowns as he manages to get it back in place.

"--I keep forgetting. Not to wall-stick in rooms where they post stuff /on/ the walls--oh no," Peter replies, more gently now, turning to Karolina: "It's just -- one of my mutations." He wiggles his fingers at her. "I stick to things -- /anything/ actually s'pretty awesome. That," Peter soon adds, leaning forward and approaching Karolina's easel -- tilting his head till it's almost sideways! "--does not look like an owl. /Or/ a cat. It looks like." Squint. "--a blob? I /just/ found out I have to take three art courses," Peter admits, like this is the /worst/. Thing. /EVER/.

The forcefulness of the answer takes Karolina aback just a little bit - one can see her kinda straighten up a touch, eyes leave Peter and look to one side, lips purse just a little bit. But there was a pause, and a sigh, and her eyes shift back to the other soon enough - gaze dropping then to wiggling fingers. "At least, pretty awesome until you find you're sticking to drawings, or people, maybe?" she says, tilting her head a bit to the side. "How are you sticking? Would it hurt to be stuck to?" she asks, although she takes a step away from him.

"Erm, you don't need to demonstrate!" says Karolina preemptively - if playfully, lifting her eyes back up to him. "No - no, it doesn't. I tried to fix it, and maybe it's just... maybe it's actually really good, just really, um..." Karolina tilts her head at her work as well. "Modern," she says, lifting both her brows, and shrugging. Although the news of the art classes? Karolina seems to cheer at that. "That's great though! What kinda art classes? Like making it - art history - or... something else?"

"Y'could take one'a mine," comes a very cheerful, very /Southern/ drawl from the doorway. Jackson is up and about for the first day since returning to the school; he hasn't, yet, returned to teaching his /classes/ (knowing him, that will probably come /tomorrow/) but he is at least out of bed! He's dressed comfortably, very-casual in black terrycloth pajama pants and a cheerful yellow Little Miss Sunshine t-shirt (the children's book character, not the movie.) Still devoid of illusion, he looks kind of /washed-out/; too pale, lacking his usual glittery makeup; there's a /wealth/ of pitted scars etched down the side of his face and one arm, marring the tattoos there. He's at least cleaned up and freshly shaved, though (both his tattooed skull /and/ the beard that had been attempting to grow in) and he is very definitely /smiling/. "-- Karolina, hey. Y'found my /lair/." As lairs go it is very cheerful.

"--I actually," Peter admits, looking at his wiggling fingers at Karolina's question, "have /zero/ clue how it works. And no, I don't /think/ it hurts. I've actually only done it to a person -- once? It was," Peter pauses. "--uh. I don't know if it--" Suddenly, he /slaps/ those wiggling fingers down to the back of his other hand! Brows wrinkled. And then he starts tugging -- his fingers firmly /attached/ to his own chitin. Then he glances up at Karolina, beaming: "Nope! Doesn't hurt." The fingers release.

At the mention of Karolina's work just being /modern/, Peter wrinkles his nose; when Karolina tells him that this is /great/, Peter sets upon her with -- well, the Peter Stare. It's wide-eyed disbelief. As if she just said 'Peter, Batman Isn't Real'. But before Peter can reply, there is an incoming /Jax/, and -- Peter turns! His eyes managing to get even /bigger/, that brief expression of disbelief melting into something happier: "You're--up! You're up oh man you're--" Happy vanishes into something perplexed and disapproving: "Wait you're /up/ why are you up you should be in /bed/. If I take your class do I have to--" Peter gestures at Karolina's art. There's almost something /vulgar/ about the way he throws his hand at it. "--/paint/ things?"

"Well, uh, yeah, but you have that chitin stuff. Or can you feel through that?" says Karolina, still balancing a palette on one of her forearms, although - the girl with kalideoscope eyes kinda bites her lower lip then when affixed with the Peter Stare. She managed to hold the stare a beat, before she kinda glances down and to one side, biting her lower lip /again/. "W-well," she says, "I had a lot of fun in High School, at my art classes, but that was mostly just history, and going to museums, and..." Karolina begins to explain.

Thankfully, 'lina was more or less saved by the entrance of one... "Jackson! You're up! I heard you were hurt - are you feeling okay?" she enthuses, probably just adding to the chorus of goodwill and concern that was voiced by Mr. Parker, as well. And then Peter gestures towards her... well, 'art'. It looked like a single animal, with perhaps four legs, but it was evidently and owl and a cat. When Peter gestures to it, 'lina /smoothly/ lifts her hand to the canvas, brings it up off of the easel, turns it around, and kinda balances it on the edge, on the ground, keeping her hand on it, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, once. "I'm just... practicing."

"Are you clinging t'your own arm?" Jackson sounds amused, at this. He slips further into the room, now; he's got a thermos in one hand that he sets down on a table as he seats himself on a stool. "Hi -- yeah. I'm up, oh /gosh/ I couldn't take bed for another minute." His smile widens into an outright grin as he affirms: "Yep. Totally gotta paint things. You say that as though in class I was gonna make you eat alla Ivan's bugs."

"Oh -- gosh, I'm feeling -- /glad/ to be up." He pushes open the cap on his thermos with a thumb, tipping it to very tentatively take a sip and then wince, sucking in a breath. "-- I think these things are dangerous y'know I made this tea an /hour/ ago." His heels thud lightly against the rung of the stool, gaze drifting briefly over Karolina's picture, thoughtfully. "-- You gonna take m'class? I teach intro painting."

"I can /totally/ feel through my chitin," Peter announces, as if this were a point of pride. "S'actually just like ordinary skin, just not -- as flexible, I guess? Also, no sweat pores. It also cracks and sheds sometimes." Peter proceeds to rub his arm, as if in preparation to do /this very thing/. "--yeah," Peter /confirms/ Jackson's question regarding his clinging, only adding: "I can cling to /anything/ do you want me to cling to a window? It's /so/ weird. I can walk on /ceilings/! Well, not this ceiling," he adds, with a glance toward the ceiling. "S'probably incapable of holding my weight."

At the mention of eating all of Ivan's bugs, Peter wrinkles his nose even harder than before. He proceeds to state: "Man art is /bor--/" That is as far as Peter gets; eyes widen, as if he's just only now realized who he is saying this to. A hand lifts to his mouth! He glances at Karolina, then Jax, then, a little more quietly: "--art is. Um, I'm not. An 'art' person. I'm just gonna take photography it's basically just chemistry /anyway/."

"I think... I may need to," says Karolina, a bit bashfully, to Jax. "I just found myself with a lot of time this summer, and, well, thought I would 'dabble'," says Karolina, fingerquoting with the hand not balancing a palette. There was a bit of a nervous undertone - and she turns her painting back around, she supposes, to lean it against the legs of the easel.

It was to the young(er) man that Karolina turns her attention to next, nodding along with all the little details of how he does STUFF, when - he mentions art was... Karolina actually takes on a look of distress, leaning forward a little bit and kinda looking at Peter. Opening her mouth, she glances to Jackson, before back to Peter again. "It... well... if you're not an art person, maybe that is understandable," Karolina says, "But have you ever, really, given it an honest try? Maybe you're not just an art person with the type of art you looked at before."

"That's -- that's okay, honey-honey, you don't need to -- cling to the window." Jackson sounds juuust a little bit puzzled, here. He /winces/ at that aborted statement of Peter's, but it draws a quiet chuff of laughter from him, a crooked smile. "Peter, if you think chemistry's all there is to photography you're -- gonna have a hard time in class, I think. S'chemistry in the /processing/; still need an eye for art to get the pictures took in the /first/ place. Actually, s'the kids interested in photography that /flock/ to my class. Not the intro painting but -- the colour an' light class helps a lot figuring out the kinda things to look out for if you're gonna be doing anything photo-wise."

He sits a little bit straighter, perking when Karolina says she might take his class. "That's great! I mean, the dabbling -- /and/ if you'll be in my class, s'pretty rad. I loved this place," with a wave around the art room, "when I first got here. Even just sitting down and doodling nothin' much -- it really helps kinda sort my head sometimes, y'know." Her comments to Peter just earn a small bob of his head. "-- Y'seem to like Bastian's art aright. Maybe y'just need to branch out. It ain't /all/ --" Here his tone skews a little wry, "boring painting."

"--ohman do you mean -- I have to worry about -- artsy things in /photography/ too what the /heck/," Peter announces, eyebrows grinding together, looking like he's just been informed that SUMMER BREAK has been replaced with MANDATORY SPINACH EATING CONTESTS. "--ugh. Color and light I think that's only available in like the spring anyway," Peter mumbles. Apparently he checked the schedule!

"Man why would I wanna /draw/?" Peter asks Karolina. "I can just -- take pictures I mean --" A flicker of something toward Jackson, at the mention of Bastian-Art, and: "--well I mean that's. Those are like /figurines/ or something some of them are cool, I guess, um. Not all -- paintings are boring, I mean. And some of the tattoos you do are. Uh, kind of. Wicked," Peter says, his voice getting progressively lower and lower, as if he is rapidly BACKPEDALING and making concessions left and right. But also as if each inch of ground he surrenders brings him extraordinary anguish. AUGH, /art/.

For the record, spinach can be pretty amazing when cooked right. Karolina, at least, would be able to sing the praises of such things to one Mr. Parker. Ahem-hem. But I digress. Karolina watches Jackson as he says what he does about photography, a little tug upwards of her lips making a lopsided smile. "Color and light? That actually sounds like a really fun class. What do you learn in it? Like - how to match and make colors?" says Karolina. Although what he continues on to say only causes her smile to beam brighter. "I feel so... not envious, I guess - proud? Kinda? Of all the people here that can do art. I was watching Kai draw the other night, and that's just... you know, amazing."

"So even if I'm never good at it, I'd love to /understand/ the processes, you know? To get a better appreciation of them," says Karolina, kinda snapping her brush into a part of the palette that helpfully has a holder for it. Although there was a classic Peterbackpedal going on, and she kinda watches in awe for a moment. "So see? Tattoos! That's a kinda art you like," says 'lina, kinda wagging a finger at him. "Or maybe photography, if you just like pictures. Maybe it can be like a physics problem? Lining up all the... erm... variables or whatever to take the most aesthetically pleasing picture?" she asks, trying to forward pedal against all that backpedaling.

"'course you do, in photography you need to pay attention to composition every bit s'much as in painting. I mean -- I suppose when y'get down to it, all the quirks of /light/ are -- optics is just /physics/ but. You can learn all the physics you want and it won't tell you nothin' 'bout aesthetics. Also? My ink is kind of badass." Though Jax says this with more amusement than defensiveness.

"/Good/ at it's kinda subjective," Jackson admits. "I can teach you plenty about shading and technique and composition but really in the end --" He shrugs a shoulder. "S'like with the tattoos I give people. What I care about most is that it's meaningful to them. -- Color an' light's only a spring class, yeah. I -- actually teach a fair bit about the properties of light an' its relation to art. It's actually adapted from a curriculum my college teaches -- sorta /joint/ with the art and physics departments."

"--I just. I'm not -- good with, uh," Peter starts, much more meekly now, in response to Karolina, "aesthetics I guess I kinda just don't -- /care/ about. If it works, it works. But..." At the mention of physics and optics, Peter visibly perks! But then kind of lowers his shoulder with a ginger shrug, and a tiny glance to the ground. "I /do/ like the Lorax one," Peter finally admits, to Jax. "--I guess I could--I mean, I'll /have/ to try anyway I just. Never been any good at -- artsy stuff. I just like to build things that /do/ things, I guess."

Karolina pauses a little moment at something Jackson says, pursing her lips. Plucking up the brush again, she chews a bit on the non-painted end, nodding her head slowly. "Huh. So one could say that art with mass appeal is just... creating something that has meaning for... a lot of different people all at once," seeming to consider this concept could wait, however, 'lina looking back towards Peter as she nods her head. Opening her mouth - she pauses, and closes it again, the young woman taking a step back - before twisting, and starting towards the sink, perhaps intending to clean her palette. "Give it a try, Peter - what can it /really/ hurt?"

"S'plenty of functional art. I do a lot of glassworking -- that ain't exactly, uh, no /robotics/ or nothin' but I make plenty of things that have /uses/ even aside from making people smile. But they look pretty, /too/. And in other departments --" Jax hesitates a moment, considering something and then shrugging. "-- People set up science an' art like it's some kinda dichotomy. Did you know, my college? It don't teach nothing /but/ fine arts and science. And it hovers around near the top'a the country in both those things. We got a whole bunch'a students who do a lot of interdisciplinary work. The two ain't all that mutually exclusive."

He glances downwards when Peter mentions his Lorax tattoo, though it is currently hidden away under his pajama pants. "-- hmm. I think -- yeah, you could say that for sure. People take so much /different/ stuff away from art, too, y'know? I could make a painting an' it means something to me but says something totally different to the next person lookin' at it -- and that's fine, too."

"I /could/," Peter informs Karolina, "contract an incurable case of Art Cooties. And /die/." But then: "--glassworking?" Peter asks, and he does, indeed, sound intrigued! "--like--oh, huh I guess. Does that count as -- hmn," he says, and now he's /thinking/, eyebrows scrunched together. At the mention of Jax's college, Peter's eyebrows entangle together, as if desperately trying to digest this possibility. He turns to watch as Karolina approaches the sink! Before commenting: "...there's a class. For fabric arts, isn't there?" And then, suddenly, as if he has had a REVELATION: "--/costumes/."

"Art cooties aren't /real/, Peter," Karolina says, setting said palette in the sink - although she doesn't quite /wash/ it right away, turning back to look towards the two young men, nodding her head approvingly along with what Jackson says. "I think... I'm getting it," she says, with a little bit of a grin. Peter's mention of costumes cause her to lazer her focus in on Peter proper, quirking a brow on her psychadelic features. "Costumes? Do you mean like shirts and pants, or do you mean..." she leans forward just a little bit, smiling brighter. "/Costumes/?"

Very determinedly, Jax slides off his stool. Walks over to Peter -- he's still just a little shaky! But. On a mission. He TOUCHES Peter in the middle of the forehead with one forefinger. "Peter," he says, very seriously, "you now have the art cooties. You will /probably die/."

"Glassworking. I actually want to get a glassworking setup put in the workshop but -- probably not till /I/ graduate, oh /man/ do I not have time to teach another class right now. Plus, uh, if we're doing glass/blowing/ I'm sure /some/ student would find a way to fall into the kiln and that would be ugly." Jax winces, dropping his hand back to his side. "I think he means /costumes/-costumes an', yeah, we got a fabric arts class. Sometimes they even make costumes! Usually for the theatre department."

"--I think I'll wait until the findings of a properly peer-reviewed study come in to make that determination, thank you very m--oh," Peter is interrupted in his explanation to Karolina by an approaching Jax, and, particularly, by that finger. "/Oh/," he says, eyes wide, mouth open, hands moving to cover his heart. "--ohno what have you /done/." Tiny-grin. Followed by, very excitedly: "COSTUMES. I had a lot of help for my first design oh my God clothes are /complicated/ but I could take that class and learn tons of stuff and maybe even how to improve my uh, costume I have," he pauses, glancing to Karolina, a /furious/ blush turning his face violet, "a costume um sometimes it actually is /bulletproof/." Peter taps his chest atop of the patch on his hoodie, as if to demonstrate.

"A costume that is /bulletproof/, then," says Karolina. Her words were asking a question, but her tone said that she already knew the answers. "And maybe, just maybe, uses those fan things you were making, and has extra spots for the thwippers?" she says, unable to help the smile from curling up the edges of her mouth.

Karolina's attention shifts to Jackson, next, the teen folding her arms together in front of herself. "Oh, that might be... well... I could see someone..." her tone suggesting she had someone in mind, "...falling in there on a weekly basis. But I bet if there's enough safety stuff around it - maybe it can get its own little shed or be fenced off or something? That could work?" she says. "What are you going for? Like, a bachelor's degree, or something - while being a part-time teacher, /and/ being a superhero?" she asks Jax.

"Too late. You /got/ the art bug, Peter, ain't nothin' for it but to just resign yourself. To a life where sometimes? Y'gotta take art classes." Jackson returns -- not to his stool but to the nearest one, sinking down onto it and slumping against the table. "-- I don't know as the fabric arts class teaches nothin' about kevlar, though." He has a smile, too, but there's something just faintly distant about it -- his eyes shifting to the patch on Peter's hoodie.

"Yeeeeeah." Jackson's smile fades into a kind of /exhausted/ look. "M'sure someone'd find a way to drop themselves in on the regular. But -- if we keep it shut up. /Locked/ up good. Then maybe won't nobody throw themselves in with the molten glass. S'like a tiny little lava pit. Kinda pretty if you're being /safe/ around it. -- I'm getting my BFA. Um," his cheeks flood with a blush, "though I don't know nothin' about the superhero bit."

"--/yes/," Peter says to Karolina, mayhaps a bit /too/ quickly. "And a built in BACKPACK that's wired into the suit oh my /God/ it could be like a /utility/ belt oh my God." Peter seems to nearly be bouncing in place at the mere possibility of this idea. "--oh yeah I mean it doesn't have to be about /kevlar/, I just need to know things like -- shirt patterns, and stitching, too, um, and pockets and folds..."

"Also don't listen to Jax he is /totally/ a superhero he's basically like Superman," and at this, Peter's eyes /sling/ over to Jax, then snap back over to Karolina -- as if he has just /realized/ something. Very important. Eyes widening. "OhmyGOD."

When the spiderlad confirms what Karolina had been thinking, Karolina just gets one of those pleased little smiles that suggests she knew it all along, the young woman bringing her hands up to kinda clutch in front of herself, working her hands a bit before shaking them out. "If you're really worried about it, Peter - you should get one of your /artsy/ friends..." she says, pausing a moment, adding a little more emphasis to the word artsy, "To take the class with you, maybe? Share the agony?" she says, her tone of voice light - teasing.

"Trust me, I thiiiink you're a superhero. I've heard a hundred different stories about why you were in the medbay, but I bet it was doing something superheroic, you know?" says Karolina to Jax, kinda tilting her head to one side as she looks back at him. "Would it be okay to ask what you are planning on doing with a BFA?" she asks.

Although 'lina has to look at Peter, blinking at him. "Wait wait wait..." she says, laughing a little bit in spite of herself. Pointing at her own nose, she says, "Supergirl?" before she points at Jax. "...Superman?"

"I was -- in the medbay doing something kinda stupid," Jackson says with a wrinkle of his nose and a faint blush. "I --" His mouth curls upwards, crookedly. "Plannin' on starvin' for the rest of my life, if you ask my folks. They're not so much art people, neither. -- Paint. /Teach/. I do love teachin'."

Though his blush deepens at the rest of the conversation. "Oh /gosh/ I am pretty much exactly unlike Superman -- woah there's a Supergirl?" Jackson -- not so much comic book fan. "Does Supergirl /glitter/ because that would be awesome, I can't imagine she's half so pretty as --" His hand waves towards Karolina's streaming colours.

"--Kal El. Kara Zor-El," Peter explains to Karolina with the infinite patience of a boy who has spent most of his formative years around people who can't even tell the difference between Supergirl and Power Girl. "And he got in the medbay," Peter informs Karolina, "because he was delivering food to mutants who live in the sewers and a bunch of horrible military dudes tried to /kill/ him and Micah and he saved them /both/ it was wicked /badass/." Peter makes this pronouncement despite having not been with Jax at the time, and having not seen the event. His imagination is sufficient. It /must/ have been badass.

"--Supergirl is like. Uh, basically Superman, except -- a lady? She doesn't glitter," Peter says, and at this he frowns a little, as if it might be -- a lack! Supergirl has. "But she /flies/ and so does Karolina." He points a finger accusingly at her!

There was laughter from Karolina when Jackson says that, crinkling her nose in a wide smile. "Teaching - that's something that your folks can probably get behind. But painting, and glassblowing - what kind of painting style would you say that you have?" she asks.

"No no no," she has to say to the last one, with a laugh - although she catches the pretty comment belatedly, and pauses - drawing in a breath, seeming sheepish for a moment. "You were going to make one of your new Oh My God comic book comparisons, right Peter? With the El people!" she says. Karolina didn't /blush/ so much as have the twisting colors around her face favor reds more than the other colors. And she was doing that now. "But see, Jackson? Superhero - if Peter says it, it's totally true."

"Oh, honey-honey, if you're gonna start taking Peter as your authority on life," Jackson says with a quiet laugh, "-- well. Your world'll sure be /interesting/ I'll give you that." He does blush at Peter's account of the sewers, scuffing his hand over his bald head with a slight dip of his gaze downwards. "It was intense," he will allow.

"Glittering's better'n not glittering so I think you got a leg up on this Supergirl person." Very carefully, Jackson takes another sip from his still quite hot thermos. "-- Style? Oh gosh. I don't know. /Crazy/. When people're being kind they say whimsical. Surreal. I think it all means 'nuts' in the end. I can show y'sometime. Whether or not y'decide to take the class."

"I don't know what you're /talking/ about I am pretty much," Peter does his best HUFF-HUFF impression, arms folding over his chest and feigning indignance, "the /best/ authority on /all/ the things I am surprised Xavier does not just ask me for my opinion on /everything/ here. You know," Peter tells Jax, "you /could/ just --" Peter wiggles his fingers at Karolina's canvas, suddenly. "--do your light thing to make a painting, and then -- take a /picture/ of it. Would be /so/ easy." Considering the conversation they had, this sounds more of a /tease/ than a genuine suggestion, but Peter's apparently still fascinated by the idea.

With whatever secret Karolina was hoping to wrest from Peter's brain foiled, evidently, 'lina just kinda pushes her tongue against her teeth in thought, looking between the two men. First, to Jackson: "W-well, in like... comic book things, sure. And science stuff. I never did /that/ good in school - well, I thought I was, but he is entirely on another level, I think way above anything high school coulda prepared me for," she says, although Karolina does smile widely at the sparkling compliment. "Thank you, Jackson," she says. "But yeah, I think powers that make you sparkle are better than most - and I hear you are quite the sparkler yourself," she says, grinning at Peter.

"I'd like that. And I probably will take the class - but I'd like to see your work otherwise. I've always kinda liked art in general. And music especially," says Karolina, her attention looking towards Peter then. "Painting with light? Is that a thing, or is Peter just being a troll?" she asks, glancing towards Peter, her smile impish.

"/He/ sparkles. In /sunlight/," Jackson informs Karolina, with a small grin. "-- I can't actually argue with that," he adds, thoughtfully, "Peter, you're an authority on a /lot/'a things. We might could start a class? We'll just call it 'LIFE' and you can teach everyone 'bout everything."

He takes another small sip of tea. There's a brief moment of hesitation before he nods. "-- Yeah, I -- yeah. I do. Paint. With light. I --" He turns his hand upwards, palm turned up flat. For a moment there is nothing, and then over top of his palm a tiny dragonfly appears, small and bright metallic-blue. "-- I do a lot with light. But I art with it sometimes, too." The dragonfly's wings flutter, trailing tiny pixie-dust glimmers of glitter down against his palm, and then the insect vanishes. "I /do/ use it a lot when I'm painting -- try and experiment with what I want the end to look like before I quite get there."

He slides down off his stool, a little wobbly when he stands, but then gives the others a warm smile. "-- Oh, m'sure you do fine. We don't /actually/ require folks to be an authority on /everything/. An' there's enough flexibility in classes s'a lot of room to -- find what you like."

"--ohman /could/ we because--/actually/," Peter informs Jax, "I have quite a /number/ of Opinions." And yes, you can tell he said 'Opinions' with a capital 'O'. When Karolina mentions SPARKLES, Peter turns violet; when Jackson points out that he does, indeed, sparkle, that violet turns to indigo. "--only in. Direct sunlight it has to be really bright," Peter informs Karolina, as if to clarify. When Jax demonstrates ART LIGHT, Peter watches -- wide-eyed and interested! -- his arms coming unfolded. "--mmfman that's such a cool. Power. Ohyeah," Peter seconds Jackson's comment, glancing to Karolina, "I mean they're pretty -- good here with -- finding things that fit for you. You /should/ rest," Peter adds, eyeing Jackson as he moves to stand.

There was grinning from Karolina at the banter, although her eyes flicker down to the thermos. "You get colors - goodness, and such little details - that's amazing!" Enthuses Karolina. Like him - Karolina lifts her hand up, palm turned up towards the ceiling, and bites her lower lip as her brow furrows in concentration - and a little sphere - the same size and rainbow like the colors that washed over her own form - appears there, Karolina's brow still furrowed, before she smiles at what she did.

Reaching up as if to grasp that ball, it flickers out of being, the colors disappating in yes - a lite sparkle in the air that quickly disappates. "Yours is so amazing, Jackson - were you always able to do it so neat like that?" she asks, then, "But I'll... um... keep an open mind, then. It's hard to know where you're going before you get there," she states, before turning her eyes to Peter. "I bet it's ~beautiful~," she says, with an overly sighy voice that was probably teasing, the young woman giggling a bit goofily after those words. The assertion that Jackson should rest though? Has her eyes shooting back to Jax, then his face. "You are looking pretty pale - do you need help, um... sir?" she asks.

"Oh, wow --" Jackson watches the ball fade out into glitter with a suddenly brighter smile. "Oh, /wow/. -- No, when I was a teenager it was just. -- Actually I looked a little more like you. Not near so pretty. Just kinda /random/ glowy. It took a lotta years before I could make it do what I wanted, proper."

For a moment he leans against the table; for a moment, too, he flashes a wide grin at Peter. "-- Cool, hm. Y'know," he says lightly, "what I do with light's art, too." He pushes himself upright properly, nodding at the mention of rest. "Oh, I'll be aright," he says easily, "just gonna go -- get some /sun/, being cooped up in the basement for days I'm kinda craving it. I'll see y'both soon, m'sure."

"Ohman /you/ can do the light thingy too," Peter mentions to Karolina, eyes suddenly wide at the sight of that expanding bubble from her palm; when it disappears in a flash, Peter grins. At the mention of his sparkling being ~beautiful~, he goes deep indigo again: "It's /manly/," Peter insists, but then, with a shrug, grin returning: "S'actually, uh. I mean I wish it was more /stealthy/ it's a little embarrassing but, um, Shane likes it." His eyes sweep to the side of the room at this admission.

"--oh. Okay! I'll see you later!" Peter tells Jackson, before adding: "Don't, uh. Explode or anything."

"Oh, okay. I bet it's ~handsome~ then," says Karolina, readopting that playful tone as her eyes flicker to Peter. "And that's hard for sparkles to do, but I think you and Jackson pull it off," she says with a nod, the bit about Shane just giving a knowing smile. Although the mention of exploding Jacksons has her briefly worried, and glancing back to the man, looking for - god, she did not know - ruptures or something indicating explosion was imminent.

"Thanks, Jackson - for everything. You take care of yourself, yeah?" she says, finally starting to turn back around - brushing her hair over her shoulder as she stares down at the paintmess in the sink, nose crinkling - this time with a 'bleah' sort of look, complete with her tongue briefly sticking out.