paint me a clearer sky

[ Allan Manuel ]

Allan certainly expected this. There were less students around the school grounds since it was a weekend: that in itself was good enough for him, but the fact that getting to paint in any place that isn't as dark and depressing as his apartment was a blessing. He'd already burned the artworks he'd made in the past — particularly the ones that gave him chills and yet even the normal ones didn't calm him enough. It was like everything he created in that place had a lingering weight to them. He considered moving but remembered that even his dorm room before had the same aura; almost like it followed him everywhere he settled. He also noticed this wasn't the same case for artworks he'd done in school, which carried no sense of malice.

Which brings us to why he was here in school, in the Art Building, alone in an empty room (save for unfinished works, of course), painting next to a window, with Tchaikovsky playing in the background from his phone. He didn't think the soundtrack was necessary but he found it was an excellent source of inspiration for his current piece. His thoughts were mostly drowned out by the music while he absentmindedly hummed along to it. He wouldn't have been able to notice anyone coming in if there weren't any materials haphazardly placed near the door that had been left slightly ajar.

The sudden loud noise had Allan jump from his spot, instinctively taking a step back to the wall close to him as if it could protect him from whatever intruder had come for him. Except apparently, his intruder was in a worse spot than he was, finding her at the mercy of the paint cans left one the floor, managing to look sheepish. He decided to not mind the cans off the floor, thinking no one would even wander in the room--apparently, he was wrong on that part. He cussed under his breath, dropping the palette and brushes he had on the desk next to his easel before he went to remedy the mess on the floor.

"Oh geez, are you okay? I'm sorry, I-I didn't bother clearing out the paint cans before I started on my project--" he stammered out, picking up the can. He couldn't care less about the paint getting on him at this point--he literally had paint on his face and his clothes already anyway. "Sorry, sorry. Did you hit your foot? You didn't get injured, did you?" he continued, looking at her apologetically.


@Marigold

///double posted whoops

Allan gave a lighthearted laugh, "It's fine, it's fine. It's only a few cans. No actual harm done." he said as he made his way to one side of the room to properly arrange the cans of paint into a neat stack. After setting down the cans, he caught a glance of his easel and finally noticed the large white streak across the blue and green canvass. Shit, that's gonna take a little bit to fix, he cringed inwardly. On the bright side, he thought, the work-in-progress didn't have the death-aura on it which was all he could ask for right now.

He turned back to the girl, surprised to catch her looking intently for just a moment before she grinned back to him. Curiosity passed in his eyes but decided not to press the matter. Maybe she was just watching him for something? Was she wary of him? He couldn't blame her; students in this academy were not how they seemed. Still, he couldn't say it made him any comfortable. It wasn't like he could do anything to her--save for possibly predict her death. But he'll keep that to himself. He shook the thought away, glad that she decided to speak over the silence.

"There's no need, I have enough back at home. This happens a lot since I trip over my own things too," he jested, laughing softly. It wasn't a lie though; it wasn't a usual for him, but he'd tripped over his easel once or twice before. He carefully made his way to the desk where he rested his phone, turning down the volume of the music for his guest.

"So um... how'd you get here--? Er- I mean," he stammered, "Were you looking for someone or just wandering?"

@Marigold

[[ no worries! i'm pretty slow myself most of the time-- @Marigold ]]

Allan looked at her expectantly while she inspected her palm. He could probably already make the guess by then she was indeed new and not just a face he hadn't met, considering he was a little bit of a hermit since his second year in Starlight. That would have been rather embarrassing to admit out loud. At least she'd told him that she was which saves him from asking in the first place.

Then it clicked. "Physics?" he echoed. It didn't sink it quick enough that it probably took a second or two before he realized he'd been spacing out. "Oh-- well, um..." Get it together, Allan. "You're pretty lost. The Physics faculty office is o-on the next building--" Allan ducked his head, as if he'd said something wrong. He wasn't wrong really, but he didn't really like talking like they way he did. "There are some professors that come in during the weekends, but I'm not sure if there are any physics professors at this time."

His gaze was a little downcast at this point but he didn't miss the gesture when she'd started rummaging into her purse, immediately noticing the paint on her leg. He inwardly cringed. My fault. "I-If you don't mind, I could go with you? I might recognize someone for you to make it easier. And uh... you could probably try and wash off the paint along the way...?"

Allan bit his tongue for daring to even offer his assistance, but he didn't let it show. Part of him was saying he should just probably stay in the room, keep human interaction minimal, and just finish whatever he wanted to do. But he could probably set it aside for now. He'd been cooped up for a a bit too long since one of his close friends left the island.

Allan waved his hand dismissively in front of him. "It's just for practice--I don't mind. I'm trying to...ah... experiment." Well, he wasn't lying. But he had to look back at his painting. It was the lake in the woods in the moonlight. It wasn't near finished but the image was visible and the white streak was from him having jumped at the noise. Well, it wasn't like it wasn't actually for practice. And he needed more paintings that didn't scream "death omen".

"I'm sure I'm on to something at least; I'd like a break for now," he said turning to gather his personal things. He could probably afford to leave his paint supplies behind rather than lug it around to the next building. That wasn't something he'd look forward to doing. He turned back to Serafina, sliging his backpack over his shoulder. "Let's go?

He gestured her to go first, so he could close the door after him."I didn't catch your name; Mine's Allan by the way."

@Marigold