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Post by erika zhu on Aug 9, 2016 2:05:40 GMT
 open "Yeah, I'll take care of it. I guess..."That's what left her there in the art room, her sleeves still rolled up to the elbow and her dull blue hair put up into higher-set twintails. The materials of the class were, luckily, put away on the side -- each brush cleaned up and put with its respective group. The tins were washed down and emptied of any liquids as well. She just stood there, overlooking the newly painted pieces of her class. Her mismatched eyes glowered at the set paperd, colors dried on them; a mirage of oranges, blues, and tints of whites met on each individual paper. They all set there like the sky that each portrait aimed to be. Each were placed beside the other, her job was to place them in the little metal rack for them to dry. Now normally it was the students', not student job to do it along with cleaning but... one person asked her and then the next thing she knew there was a pile left for her to put away. Yeah, she could of said no but... well actually no, no she couldn't. She didn't want to piss anyone off, not at this school especially when she was close to being done with it all. She was a senior now, not a junior anymore. Her gaze lingered away from the sky waterpaintings to the tables. Well... looked like only some people put away their stuff, others were still a mess. She'd have to clean it now. "'Thanks. Thank you, Erika for being so nice to do this. Sorry I didn't say it eariler but I'm a jerkoff so!'" A small mutter escaped her lips as she sauntered along the edges of the tables. It was annoying sometimes how often this would happen to her. "Huh? Why no problem! It's no big deal, it's just apart my charm to be so nice and totally not a pushover. And yeah. You're a fuckboy. You're allll fuckboys. Sorry to say." It was starting to get a bit depressing really. Hence why sometimes she just have to give some pep talk time to time. She pushed the leftover brushes to the side of the table, not really bothering to pay attention as a few rolled off of the heightened surface to the dusty floor of the art room. With a few wipes of the dingy old rag on the dirtied table, the girl managed to get some of the stains of paint off and left it in the middle to take up the rusted metal tin of brownish black tap water. "To the sink with you." The girl ought to really watch those sneaky brushes because sooner than she knew, the little demon was under her foot as she strolled along and -- "Ack!"Erika could feel the weight of gravity as she was pushed forward, her arms flailed forward to catch a table edge. And she did! Fortunately and unfortunately. Because fortunately she didn't fall right on her fat face but unfortunately, as her orbs saw the moment she looked forward, the tin of disgusting paint water flee from her lack of grasp in the desperate attempt of getting leverage during her small trip. It landed on the table she managed to take hold of, the very same table with the paintings on it, and the very same table where it spilled; the paintings saturated with the dinge of the used water and the melting of the paints that once vibrantly settled on it. Oh no. Oh no, no no no! She stood there frozen, her hands gripped on the table until her knuckles were pale white. She would be killed for this, right? Killed by these kids! Probably shanked in the kidney with the sharpened end of a paintbrush in the yard! Which is probably like the cafeteria or something but still! Stabbed. Dead. That's the end of it. Ughh and someone might of heard her when she almost fell too. She couldn't let someone see this! What to do? What to do?!? Erika could feel the tugs of her hair as her hands knitted in them in thought, letting out a whimper in frustration. Just another day in her unlucky, loser shoes... MADE BY ★MEULK |
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Post by IOSIF PETRIKOV on Aug 12, 2016 4:31:47 GMT
[googlefont=Play]  [attr="class","howllyrics"]A MAN WHO'S PURE OF HEART & SAYS HIS PRAYERS BY NIGHT MAY STILL BECOME A WOLF WHEN THE AUTUMN MOON IS BRIGHT | [attr="class","howlborder"]After class had concluded, Iosif let out a sigh. Maybe if he made a sprint, he could slip in a quick smoke break. He'd definitely been craving nicotine at this point and he chose to smoke off campus out of respect for the other students. He rose to his feet and rolled his head back, earning a crack from stiff joints. While his belongings had already been put away before the bell rang, Iosif did another quick check to make sure he hadn't left anything behind on accident. And with that, he made his way to the hall. A quick check of the time proved that if he really wanted to, he could just take a leisure stroll to his smoke break spot. As he patted his pockets, Iosif attempted to look for his zippo lighter. Fuck, did someone pickpocket it from him earlier? Or did he just misplace it? It was honestly so hard to tell with lighters half the time. In the midst of his walk, his ears pricked at the sound of someone or something just beyond the door of the art room. Like anyone, curiosity piqued his interest. His concern for his lighter fell short as he heard the sound of something rolling, perhaps art supplies? Sometimes students really got into their work, it was hard to tell if it were by accident or intentional. Art kids were pretty weird at times. However once he heard the sound of what seemed to be someone struggling on the other side of the door, instinct immediately kicked in. Iosif pushed the door open with a turn of the knob, and the sight before him caused his brow to quirk upward in a mix of surprise and slight -- albeit hardly notable -- amusement. Rather than leaving the door ajar to further embarrass the currently hunched over student. With that, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "Privyet, toropýga."While his words were fairly calm, no doubt the harsh Russian accent that laced over. It was often enough to intimidate many people. As he walked over to examine the now stained paintings, no doubt his brows knit together in frustration. While he didn't have art class, he knew that plenty of these students put quite a bit of effort into their work. It was both saddening and frustrating to see that someone (the girl in question) had so carelessly ruined them. From her stance, no doubt it was by accident, but still. If she hadn't been in such a hurry to finish things, maybe the paintings would have been in one piece. He breathed in carefully as he eyed each painting. While they could dry them with a hair dryer, it still wouldn't excuse the stains from the filthy paint water. There was a swirl of colors now stuck to these paintings with no hope of getting out. "Do you realize how much work you destroyed simply because you were being impatient?" he offered between clenched teeth. He was only mildly frustrated. The fact he had yet to raise his voice was honestly a surprise. Perhaps he'd been caught on a good day. "Let's try to get this cleaned up."[attr="class","howlnotes"] erika zhu // I hope you don't mind me jumping in! ;u;/ I'll try to make notes of what Iosif says in Russian. Basically he greeted her in the first sentence, only followed by something that can easily be taken as an insult. While there's no English equivalent to the word, he basically called her a person who's in a hurry. |
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Post by erika zhu on Aug 12, 2016 6:07:44 GMT
Maybe she could still put them in their cubbies? These kids were bound to have someone who didn't like them, right? Maybe they'd let her go if she twisted the truth a little? Yeah! Someone just had to come in while she finished. Maybe... Oh who was she kidding? She was finished. Before the unlucky girl could think of more things that could've dipped her in hotter water, she could hear the doorknob turn and the feeling in her gut intensify. While she'd like to simply dive under the table and hide like an ostrich sticking its own head in the sand, she was a bit frozen with her doe eyes. Especially at the words the person uttered. "Privyet, toropýga."That was foreign, sounded deep like a man's, and was incredibly scary. Quickly her wide eyes peeled themselves away from the ruined art pieces to the new visitor who would probably tear off her head. Ebony hair and steel grey eyes, he looked taller and far more powerful than herself (but then again who wasn’t stronger than her? She probably had the strength comparable to a charred marshmallow). So if she wanted to flee, she definitely couldn't now. Instead the blue-haired girl kept silent, her mismatched orbs shifting back to the ruined paintings as he walked calmly towards them for an observation. As he looked them over in silence, Erika pondered the reason he'd be here. Drinking? Drugs? Fighting? Murder? Maybe the last one was a tad extreme but she wouldn't necessarily put it past the people here. Plus he was obviously foreign, if countless media taught her anything was that Russians were dangerous people. Probably involved with gangs. Though she shouldn't assume much truthfully. Wait, he was talking now. He doesn't sound happy. Oh boyyyy. "B-But I-I... I didn't mean to! Honest!" she sputtered, like a dying engine. "I was just minding my own business, cleaning up the messes people left and then this," cue the accusatory point at the mess, "happened! I didn't mean to! Ahhhh." Honestly she was going to cry at this rate. Stupid, stupid, stupid! "I'm dead. They'll all hate me, hurt me. I'm such a clumsy idiot. I'm sorry!"But he didn't stop there. "Let's try to get this cleaned up." Huh? Did she hear that right? There wasn't any harshness in his voice, nor did he scold her (well not too harshly). Just a simple offer. Which made it a bit strange -- he looked so scary, so strict. Erika bit her lip, her hands in front of her torso and her fingers mingled together tightly in embrace like something to distract her from the current mess. ".... Huh? Aren't you going to, like, turn me in? To my classmates? If someone comes and sees you might get in trouble too you know? It's my fault," she mused softly, her nerves began to settle in the after effects. "You don't have too... Really. Um, besides, other than cleaning the water that got spilt there's not much that can be done about these dang paintings. I'll just have to say what happened if people ask." She gave a sigh. She did feel guilt about ruining people's hardwork. Though frankly some of her frustration of the situation wanted to cast blame on the asswipes that left their table dirty, she should of made sure that everything was picked up instead of wallowing in pity at her misfortune of her inability to say no to people. "Uh, so, um... Thanks. For the offer." She could feel her cheeks flush -- she wasn't used to this, to someone offering help and it wasn't like how she'd imagine things would go. And to make it more awkward she kind of just had a verbal meltdown in front of the guy. Ahhh, he probably thinks she's annoying now. Great. Maybe she should just zip her lips for a bit. MADE BY ★MEULK |
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Post by IOSIF PETRIKOV on Aug 24, 2016 2:40:32 GMT
[googlefont=Play] [attr="class","howllyrics"]A MAN WHO'S PURE OF HEART & SAYS HIS PRAYERS BY NIGHT MAY STILL BECOME A WOLF WHEN THE AUTUMN MOON IS BRIGHT | [attr="class","howlborder"]It wasn't long before he offered a harmless shrug. As far as he could tell, the other hadn't ruined the artwork on purpose. Hell, he wouldn't have been surprised if she would have started crying at some point. She'd already begun to sputter about. It was kind of sad in retrospect. Nevertheless, there was likely something they could do. His eyes fell on the clock above the door, to the paintings, and then back to the clock. If they could get them dry, he supposed they could trace over the originals and forge them from there. Unfortunately he'd never taken an art class in the school, so he knew nothing of the locations of things that would help. Rather than pondering any further, he folded his arms over his chest and glanced back at the other student. Surely she knew where things were, yes? However it would be better to run his ideas by her. "Blue-haired girl, you know where the...," he paused, trying to remember the word, 'hair dryer.' "Hair fan is, da?"That was more than likely wrong, but it was the only thing he could think of at the moment. As long as he got his point across, that was all that mattered to him. In the meantime, he took a drying towel that was near the sink and carefully began to lightly pat against the table and paintings to attempt to absorb any excess water. Once he was done there, he took some paper towels and wiped up the floor. At one point, he nearly slipped, which certainly wouldn't have been a pretty sight to bear for the colossus of a senior. Once his balance was leveled, he bent down to pick up and throw away the used paper towels. It would take some work with his idea, but he had enough time, and if two of them would be working together, then they'd finish in half the time. That is if the other chose to entertain his musings by playing along. "Nyet, there is most certainly a way to fix this. Have you ever done forging? We need to dry the original first and then trace over it."He had no qualms of forging something. Iosif had done it before, and he wasn't afraid to do it again. His only issue would be painting. It was certainly not something he was used to doing. Brush control was an awkward thing for such a heavy-handed young man. While he didn't have a reason to actually help the stranger, he didn't need one. Iosif had a ridiculous habit of helping just about anyone who seemed to be in need of it. It was both a vice and virtue of his. However if the other would much rather face the wrath of her fellow classmates, he would back out quiet and treat it as if he'd never entered the room. They were students in the same school, it was much better to make allies than it was to make enemies. While Iosif didn't need to worry about it given he was more than capable of handling his own battles, he wasn't going to actively search for enemies. [attr="class","howlnotes"] erika zhu // This is late and garbage and I am sorry. 8') |
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Post by erika zhu on Aug 27, 2016 18:37:14 GMT
Hair fan...? Fan for hair? Um, she wasn't sure if there was such a thing. But he probably meant something to dry the paints with, right? It would be best to have them dry before they stuck onto anything or ripped from being so sensitive with the water. But there wasn't anything exactly to use for speedy drying sadly, if there was the teacher would have to pull it out; normally things like that were only accessible to the teacher and under the teacher's eye for the sake of not having it stolen from the school. "Uh... I don't think so? Even if we did, the teacher hid it somewhere to keep it from being damaged or stolen. Kind of expected at a school like this? Sorry... That iron rack, though, is used for hanging and drying. So that's the best we have for drying. But we can dab it."The tall senior dabbled about, taking all he could to dry the soiled area; she followed suit, taking as many brown paper towels to settle it on the floor to soak, others she placed her foot on and rubbed around, letting the water cling onto it before picking it back up to throw away. "It might not dry completely but it'll at least make it not so soaked," Erika mused, as she watched the raven-haired senior. She tensed a bit when it looked like he almost tripped. "Ya, some of the kids didn't pick up their pencils. That's how I, uh, tripped. With how this floor is too, it'll be slippery even with most of the water soaked up.""Nyet, there is most certainly a way to fix this. Have you ever done forging? We need to dry the original first and then trace over it."The girl tilted her head in thought. "Ah! Actually there's something that might help. It's over on the over side of the room. It's this light that lights up the drawing to make it easier to trace. We can do that to trace these," she nodded, "And yeah, I have. When you have a deviant Art account when you're, like, ten then it's a given. I'm a pro." Maybe she was more proud of that than she should of been but if it would be particularly helpful for the situation then hell she'd live up with it. The girl did wonder though -- does he take art or know how to paint? She somewhat hoped so. But even if he didn't, then she could do it. Maybe she could even teach him how! Aww man, maybe she'd look hella cool while doing it. Erika hustled to the paper towel dispenser, taking as much as she could before moving over to the paints and lightly dabbing the water off; any mistake could make them dissolve into the towel. "So, um... Have you ever painted before?" Might as well break the ice and know as quick as she could. MADE BY ★MEULK |
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