Post by Chloe on Mar 31, 2008 19:02:23 GMT -5
She was here again. Not because of Scout this time, but because she just wanted to think. So she did. Sitting there, Jaz mulled over everything that had happened so far. Honestly, it made her dizzy to think about it all.
Rustling around, she found a discarded canvas and some dried-out paints, adding water and taking a brush, spreading the colors around on the white surface, smiling as they came together as something far more interesting than each of them individually. She'd picked dark colors: blue, purple, black; she didn't expect anyone to see it, but she liked her work. It fit her image of the world; everyone added something but some definitely added more than others; some didn't even seem to add anything at all, overshadowed by a more substantial color. Smiling to herself, she raised a paint-covered hand and examined it. Apparently some of the paints had other colors on the outside, since there was absolutely no pink in her painting. Rubbing at her eye tiredly, she ended up with a smudge of pink under her eyebrow and as her hand slid down her opposite cheek, she was granted a streak of purplish black.
Smiling to herself, she signed the piece and sat down, waiting for it to dry so that she could bring it home and give it to Scout. Though, after thinking for a little while, she decided that it would be best to leave it here and surprise him. Wiping her hands on her pants, she realized that all of her was kind of a mess; she had smeared various shades of pink, purple, black, and blue all over her ripped blue jeans, her white shirt had been given a similar treatment, her face was smeared with color, and her hair, which was up in a somewhat messy bun, was the only thing that seemed to have escaped the paint explosion. Her hands were smeared with color and even her feet, which were bare because she hated the feel of shoes, where speckled with various colors at this point. Grinning, Jaz decided that she liked this look and sat on a table, sticking her legs out in front of her and admiring her toes, youthful features exposed for once, though she found it mildly annoying that, even as an actual teenager, her breasts were still on the larger side of what she'd seen. In reality, they were actually fairly average, but she just had a low tolerance for them, after everything that had happened.
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Being a senior in Duskwood High School pretty much equals doing whatever the hell you want. None of the teachers really bother you. So this senior ends up spending the majority of his time in the art room helping out. That is, even when he doesn't need to be there. Now was one of those times, as the boy could honestly careless about going to math class. What's the use of math anyway? Just use a calculator. Striding down the hallway, the boy had no need to dodge other students. They all move away as soon as he comes near. They all know that he doesn't want to deal with them. Finally, Dakota came to the hall that held the room he spent just about every single day in. Walking through the open door, he casually threw his bag on the closest chair out of habit. As he moved to go toward the back of the room to look at his most recent photographs, he noticed that the room was not actually empty like it normally is. A girl, probably a Sophomore, was completely covered in paint and standing infront of a newly finished painting. Now the painting bit wasn't uncommon, but usually the artists doesn't end up with that much paint on them. Turning, he walked over to the girl, pulled up a chair, and sat on it backward. Shaking his hair out of his eyes, he spoke in a low voice that was natural for him.
"I wasn't expecting anyone to be in here. There's usually no one at this time. You new? I haven't seen you before." Eyes flicked to the painting, really taking it in now. It was good."Nice painting."
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A small shriek escaped the female's lips, though she quickly covered her hand and shrugged, "I blend in when I want to..." she said cautiously, shifting uncomfortably because she had been caught off guard. That never really happened to her... Flexing her shoulders experimentally, she cocked her head at him, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, "And I can be here whenever, seeing as I don't have any other classes and it beats just sitting in a closet or something all day." Smiling kindly at him, she tried to figure this kid out. He was older than her, she could tell, but besides that she had no clue.
"I'm Jaz," she said suddenly, sticking her hand out in reflex before realizing it had paint all over it and chuckling, withdrawing the hand and wiping it on her jeans, "And thanks, it's, uh... nothing." It really was just something she'd done to clear her head, though what exactly was in Jaz's head was something that nobody wanted to know in a clearer context; it was just too scary for most of 'em. "And for the record, I haven't seen you either and, given how at home you seem here, assuming you're a new student wouldn't really be practical, yes?" she smiled at him, even as she said this; she didn't mean to offend, just calmly point out that just because you didn't know someone didn't mean that they didn't exist before you met them. But she said it in the same quiet way that she said almost everything else at this point in time. She just didn't want to get hurt again, not now that she was at least somewhat safe...
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Lips pulled back into a grin and snickered at the response. He had scared her. Maybe not a lot, but slightly at least. It's wasn't that he had been trying to scare her or anything, it was just that it amused him. And besides, the fear of others only strengthens your leadership over them. And leadership is damn important. Tucking a piece of stray hair behind his ear, he folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at the girl. "You're not gonna graduate without taking other classes. As damn cool as it would be, you can't pass on just art." Eyes watched with dull interest as she introduced herself to him and stuck her hand toward him. Who shakes hands anymore anyway? He wouldn't have taken the hand if she had left it out.
"I'm Dakota, and you'd have to be pretty goddamn stupid to think I'm new." A smile flashed across his lips once more as he spoke. "And I'd probably have to track you down." It was a casual, joking statement, but true never the less. He didn't deal with problems. Problems were eliminated. And that's the end of it. Leaning back slightly and returning his hands to the back of the chair, he looked at Jaz's painting again. It was a mess of color, as was she, yet very deep instead of being simply random. "This is my fourth year in art. I'm the assistant art teacher now, so I guess I'll be seeing a lot of you."
Standing up, Dakota moved toward the back of the room where his photographs were. He had come here for a reason, of course. Not to chat with some girl. She could talk if she wanted, whatever, but art was more important than anything anyone could offer to him anyway.
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Saying that she lived with the art teacher was probably not the best course of action, so she bit her figurative tongue and nodded, "Probably. I practically live in this room now, oh, and I don't have to take other classes. The head guy 'round here seems to think that I'm some kind of genius or something and have already been accepted into god-only-knows how many colleges and I don't even remember what else..." she trailed off, seeing as he'd kind of walked off.
"Oh, hey! This is my first year doing anything besides sitting around all day, but it's pretty cool here and all. I mean, the teacher seems pretty nice..." a small smile flicked across her face as she said that, remembering once again just what Scout had done for her. So much already and she was pretty sure there would be more... there always seemed to with him. And she didn't resent any of it; it just seemed so natural for him to take her in, for her to be grateful... and that was all she felt, right? Grateful. Nothing else.
She had spaced out again. She had to stop doing that. Someone was going to ask her what she was thinking about someday and she would have to lie. And, if she did that, she would have to remember that lie, something that she wasn't really proud of... It would eat her up inside and she knew it, so she just hoped that Dakota wasn't much of a talker.
Rustling around, she found a discarded canvas and some dried-out paints, adding water and taking a brush, spreading the colors around on the white surface, smiling as they came together as something far more interesting than each of them individually. She'd picked dark colors: blue, purple, black; she didn't expect anyone to see it, but she liked her work. It fit her image of the world; everyone added something but some definitely added more than others; some didn't even seem to add anything at all, overshadowed by a more substantial color. Smiling to herself, she raised a paint-covered hand and examined it. Apparently some of the paints had other colors on the outside, since there was absolutely no pink in her painting. Rubbing at her eye tiredly, she ended up with a smudge of pink under her eyebrow and as her hand slid down her opposite cheek, she was granted a streak of purplish black.
Smiling to herself, she signed the piece and sat down, waiting for it to dry so that she could bring it home and give it to Scout. Though, after thinking for a little while, she decided that it would be best to leave it here and surprise him. Wiping her hands on her pants, she realized that all of her was kind of a mess; she had smeared various shades of pink, purple, black, and blue all over her ripped blue jeans, her white shirt had been given a similar treatment, her face was smeared with color, and her hair, which was up in a somewhat messy bun, was the only thing that seemed to have escaped the paint explosion. Her hands were smeared with color and even her feet, which were bare because she hated the feel of shoes, where speckled with various colors at this point. Grinning, Jaz decided that she liked this look and sat on a table, sticking her legs out in front of her and admiring her toes, youthful features exposed for once, though she found it mildly annoying that, even as an actual teenager, her breasts were still on the larger side of what she'd seen. In reality, they were actually fairly average, but she just had a low tolerance for them, after everything that had happened.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Being a senior in Duskwood High School pretty much equals doing whatever the hell you want. None of the teachers really bother you. So this senior ends up spending the majority of his time in the art room helping out. That is, even when he doesn't need to be there. Now was one of those times, as the boy could honestly careless about going to math class. What's the use of math anyway? Just use a calculator. Striding down the hallway, the boy had no need to dodge other students. They all move away as soon as he comes near. They all know that he doesn't want to deal with them. Finally, Dakota came to the hall that held the room he spent just about every single day in. Walking through the open door, he casually threw his bag on the closest chair out of habit. As he moved to go toward the back of the room to look at his most recent photographs, he noticed that the room was not actually empty like it normally is. A girl, probably a Sophomore, was completely covered in paint and standing infront of a newly finished painting. Now the painting bit wasn't uncommon, but usually the artists doesn't end up with that much paint on them. Turning, he walked over to the girl, pulled up a chair, and sat on it backward. Shaking his hair out of his eyes, he spoke in a low voice that was natural for him.
"I wasn't expecting anyone to be in here. There's usually no one at this time. You new? I haven't seen you before." Eyes flicked to the painting, really taking it in now. It was good."Nice painting."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A small shriek escaped the female's lips, though she quickly covered her hand and shrugged, "I blend in when I want to..." she said cautiously, shifting uncomfortably because she had been caught off guard. That never really happened to her... Flexing her shoulders experimentally, she cocked her head at him, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, "And I can be here whenever, seeing as I don't have any other classes and it beats just sitting in a closet or something all day." Smiling kindly at him, she tried to figure this kid out. He was older than her, she could tell, but besides that she had no clue.
"I'm Jaz," she said suddenly, sticking her hand out in reflex before realizing it had paint all over it and chuckling, withdrawing the hand and wiping it on her jeans, "And thanks, it's, uh... nothing." It really was just something she'd done to clear her head, though what exactly was in Jaz's head was something that nobody wanted to know in a clearer context; it was just too scary for most of 'em. "And for the record, I haven't seen you either and, given how at home you seem here, assuming you're a new student wouldn't really be practical, yes?" she smiled at him, even as she said this; she didn't mean to offend, just calmly point out that just because you didn't know someone didn't mean that they didn't exist before you met them. But she said it in the same quiet way that she said almost everything else at this point in time. She just didn't want to get hurt again, not now that she was at least somewhat safe...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lips pulled back into a grin and snickered at the response. He had scared her. Maybe not a lot, but slightly at least. It's wasn't that he had been trying to scare her or anything, it was just that it amused him. And besides, the fear of others only strengthens your leadership over them. And leadership is damn important. Tucking a piece of stray hair behind his ear, he folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at the girl. "You're not gonna graduate without taking other classes. As damn cool as it would be, you can't pass on just art." Eyes watched with dull interest as she introduced herself to him and stuck her hand toward him. Who shakes hands anymore anyway? He wouldn't have taken the hand if she had left it out.
"I'm Dakota, and you'd have to be pretty goddamn stupid to think I'm new." A smile flashed across his lips once more as he spoke. "And I'd probably have to track you down." It was a casual, joking statement, but true never the less. He didn't deal with problems. Problems were eliminated. And that's the end of it. Leaning back slightly and returning his hands to the back of the chair, he looked at Jaz's painting again. It was a mess of color, as was she, yet very deep instead of being simply random. "This is my fourth year in art. I'm the assistant art teacher now, so I guess I'll be seeing a lot of you."
Standing up, Dakota moved toward the back of the room where his photographs were. He had come here for a reason, of course. Not to chat with some girl. She could talk if she wanted, whatever, but art was more important than anything anyone could offer to him anyway.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Saying that she lived with the art teacher was probably not the best course of action, so she bit her figurative tongue and nodded, "Probably. I practically live in this room now, oh, and I don't have to take other classes. The head guy 'round here seems to think that I'm some kind of genius or something and have already been accepted into god-only-knows how many colleges and I don't even remember what else..." she trailed off, seeing as he'd kind of walked off.
"Oh, hey! This is my first year doing anything besides sitting around all day, but it's pretty cool here and all. I mean, the teacher seems pretty nice..." a small smile flicked across her face as she said that, remembering once again just what Scout had done for her. So much already and she was pretty sure there would be more... there always seemed to with him. And she didn't resent any of it; it just seemed so natural for him to take her in, for her to be grateful... and that was all she felt, right? Grateful. Nothing else.
She had spaced out again. She had to stop doing that. Someone was going to ask her what she was thinking about someday and she would have to lie. And, if she did that, she would have to remember that lie, something that she wasn't really proud of... It would eat her up inside and she knew it, so she just hoped that Dakota wasn't much of a talker.