3
After her Astronomy teacher's humiliating comments, the rest of the day is relatively uneventful, until Alice reaches her final class of the day, Art. It's the only one she's really been looking forward to.
This classroom is the only one that doesn't appear as formal as the others. It's fairly small and colorful, the walls splattered with a rainbow of paint splotches, easels propped up with metal stools topped with pillows, stained glass windows letting in colorful lights. There are two open wooden closets: one containing a large variety of paint bottles and the other storing paint brushes, easels, canvas, and other tools of the trade. The floor may have been smooth, off-white tile at one point, but there's so much paint on the floor that the white is barely visible. There's a small desk in the corner, the cleanest surface in the room, and seated behind it is a tall, lean woman with wild pink hair and a paint splattered apron holding a few brushes.
She takes the center of the room and raps her knuckles on one of the uncovered metal stools.
"Hello, all. My name is Professor Flora, and I'd like you all to have a seat anywhere on the floor before we begin."
Alice feels a soft hand tug her down to plop her onto the floor. Chess grins at her, not at all apologetic for scaring her a little. She smiles back, interested to see what kind of art Chess would turn out. She notices Mirana hesitate before sitting down, gathering her skirt before folding her legs beneath her. As a tiny bit of blue paint gets on her leg, her eyes widen, as if she's dying a little inside. She grabs a cushion off a nearby stool to sit on. Alice fights back the urge to laugh.
Once everyone is seated, Professor Flora continues. "I'd like to get to know each of you better, and it has come to my understanding that most of your professors that haven't jumped right into their lesson plans have given you a questionnaire to fill out in lieu of talking with you."
Most of the students nod. Alice recalls her Religious Studies questionnaire with a grimace at how, well, religious the questions were, and then a smirk when she remembers Tarrant doodling some explicit pen scrawls all over his. There had been an obvious bias to Catholicism throughout as well as condemnation of any other branches of faith. While Alice does not have a problem with Catholicism, the class's outright discrimination against any other religion when it is meant to be a class that takes all of them into equal, unbiased consideration irks her to no end.
"I'll be doing no such thing." A sigh of relief from the class. "I want to get to know you through a language we all understand: art. I'd like each one of you to paint something that expresses who you are as an individual." She gestures to the closets. "Supplies are in these storage units. I'll be creating a piece myself. Use anything you need." The class stares blankly at her, waiting for permission. Professor Flora puts her hands on her hips. "Well, go on then!"
It's like she set off a bomb. The majority of the class dashes for the closets while Alice elects to hang back with Chess until the stampede subsides. Mirana goes to the sink, presumably to wash the paint off her leg. Alice waits a few more minutes before turning to Chess, realizing that Chess would be crushed in the crowd before he got anything.
"What do you need?" she asks him.
Chess thinks for a moment before pulling out his phone and typing quickly. An automated voice soon replies:
"Dark blue, grey, light blue, white, black, golden yellow, canvas, palette, water cup, paper towels."
There's a pause, then:
"Please."
Alice blinks. That's quite a long list, but she can understand. She gets up and moves toward the closet, already not as crowded as before. She returns with a bundle of paint tubes and brushes on one arm and the canvas and palette in the other. After following Chess to an empty easel and setting him up, Chess taps into his phone again.
"Thanks, Alice."
Alice smiles. "You're welcome."
She glances back over at the closets. She doesn't have the slightest idea as to what to paint that would accurately represent her. Not to mention, her options are probably growing more and more limited the longer she waits as the supplies run out.
An exasperated huff draws her out of her thoughts. Alice turns to find Mirana's features twisted into a frustrated expression as she stares at her canvas. The only color on her canvas is white.
Alice doesn't know why she expected anything else.
She sighs and goes to her. Mirana isn't going to get anywhere with white and only white, unless she decides to do an embossed piece, though from the looks of it she hasn't started that either.
"What, exactly, are you trying to create here?" she asks.
Mirana turns, the frustration draining away instantly. She seems delighted to see Alice taking an interest.
"I'm not sure what to do here, actually. I just chose the best color."
Alice's brow furrows. "You think white is the best color for a white canvas." she says slowly, making sure she's heard her right.
Mirana giggles. "Well, when you say it like that, I suppose it does sound a little silly." Alice resists the urge to facepalm at what may be the understatement of the century. It's evident that Mirana has never had any experience with painting in general. Mirana glances at her canvas again. "What do you propose I do?"
Alice shrugs. "I don't know you too well, and this is supposed to represent you. I can't represent you for you."
"True. But you can inspire."
Something about the way Mirana says that makes Alice flush. However, as she's at a loss for what to do for her own painting, she figures she might as well help Mirana to pass the time.
"What can I do?"
"No, not that way."
"Which way do I do it, then?"
"Here."
Alice reaches around Mirana and gently wraps her fingers around the hand holding the brush, dragging it in the opposite direction Mirana had been going and creating a smoother texture in the process.
They had decided on a white tiger cub suspended within the ocean, paw outstretched toward the viewer, as if reaching for something. Alice had been surprised at first, but then decided to let it go and agree to help her.
That's the plan, anyway. At this rate, Mirana will be lucky to have an ocean and a white silhouette ready by the end of class. Alice continues to guide Mirana's hand to create the fur. This is actually really nice. Soothing, really. She finds an easy rhythm and wraps her fingers a little tighter around Mirana's hand and wrist for better control and rests her chin on her shoulder to get a better view of the canvas. Mirana smells sweet, like vanilla bean. Alice finds that she would be quite content to stay in this pleasant position for a while, painting with her. Curious.
Mirana turns her head, a peaceful smile gracing her contrasting features. "I think I understand now, thank you."
"Oh." Alice steps back, snapping herself out of her daze. "All right then."
Mirana glances down, then back up again. "Alice, my hand."
"Oh!" Alice releases it, dropping her own hand to her side and stepping back. "Sorry."
She turns on her heel and walks away to check up on Chess. Anything to distract her from the sudden tightening in her stomach.
Chess is currently sitting on the floor, smearing paint all over the canvas with his fingers from what she can see as he leans over, cutting off her view. She walks around him and crouches down to get a better look.
What she expects to be a very childish, whimsical looking piece turns out to be extremely detailed and well blended. Curious. She would have pegged Chess for an abstract type. It's a foggy, misty morning scene, and against the serene background are black, distorted silhouettes that seem to be leaping about in a strange sort of dance. Chess is busily filling in the ground with his hands, blending until he creates a smooth texture. His fingers are covered in different colors, his sweater is splattered, and he's even managed to get some of the grey and yellow into his hair. Even his cheeks are smeared. He looks up at her and grins before going back to work. His broad smile is contagious, and Alice finds herself returning it.
Alice decides then that as long as everyone else is still working, she might as well try to get something done. She selects a small canvas, a water cup, some brushes, and a random color palette. She still doesn't have the slightest idea as to what she can do. She takes one of the empty easels and sets up before glancing at the clock. Twenty minutes left. She looks at the palette: red, blue, yellow, black, white.
The colors blend together in her mind, dancing in front of her, taunting.
She grabs a brush and starts painting.
It's a mess. It's a rushed, absolute mess, probably the most rushed painting she's ever done, but it'll do.
The sky is three different colors, blended seamlessly, transitioning from blue, to yellow, back to blue again, with scratches of clouds painted over. The ground is red fading into black, and sprouting from it is an ebony trunked tree blooming into vibrant red clusters.
And Alice has no idea what it's supposed to mean.
It's five minutes before class is due to end, and Professor Flora is already circling the room. She stops at each student, makes a few comments, then moves on to the next. Chess seems pleased with what she says to him and pads over to the sink, presumably to wash up. Alice takes a chance and glances at Mirana's canvas.
It's beautiful, in a strange way. It's obvious that there are two styles going on, Alice's whimsical ocean background is a stark contrast to Mirana's more fine-lined, precise cub, but they complement each other well. The result is better than she thought it'd be. There's an intensity behind the dark eyes of a creature so young, the paw stretching out desperately beyond the canvas. Professor Flora exchanges a few words with Mirana, and then Mirana points to Alice. Uncomfortable with the sudden attention, Alice looks away and starts busying herself with cleaning her brushes.
Professor Flora suddenly appears behind her. "I know that's not the best you can do."
Alice washes the paint off of the last brush, smoothing out the damp bristles. "I didn't have much time." she says, trying to conceal her embarrassment.
Professor Flora examines the painting and nods her approval. "All the same, it's a job well done. I was still able to gather what kind of person you are."
Alice glances over at her, curious. "And that is?"
"You are willing to help your friends at your own expense to distract yourself from your own wandering spirit." Professor Flora smiles at Alice's expression. "It's not a bad thing, dear, but you should think about putting yourself first once in a while. Maybe the right person will help you see that."
Alice is about to ask her what exactly she means by that, but she's already moving toward the center of the classroom.
"Leave your canvases here, please." Professor Flora says. "I'd like to display them so you can see your progress throughout the year. With that, you are dismissed as soon as your supplies are cleaned up. Remember, dinner is at 5:30; don't be late."
"Alice?" Mirana calls.
Alice turns to her. "Yes?"
"Will you walk with me a bit before free period?"
Remembering the tightening in her chest before, Alice is a little wary of being alone with Mirana. Then again, the tightening could have been early cramps.
Curiosity wins out.
"Sure."