Drawing II and III

[onlyforthedream]

I'm holding the first class in the gallery, at Anthony Blunt's leave. The room is airy and more than large enough for the number of students who signed up. Some of the faces are more familiar than others, though I'm starting to recognize most of the island's inhabitants on sight, even if we haven't been introduced. There are chairs set out with

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[halfscarlet]

If asked, Billy couldn't come up with an honest answer as to why he's taken a drawing class. He likes his other classes, takes comfort in knowing he's doing what he can to further his education when he can, but this class had been entirely on a whim - mainly because of the teacher.

It's hard to resist something when it's being led by Captain America, as Billy knows from experience, but at least this is different. It's no less terrifying pretending he knows what he's doing with a sketchbook in his hands and imagining he'll get that disappointed look on Cap's face, and still, he wonders what the hell he's doing.

But he draws anyway, making faces to himself as he roughly makes sketches the likes of which he hasn't since seventh grade; mostly lame attempts at Batman.

[prodigaljaybird]

"Hey," Jason whispers, leaning so far out of his space and into Billy's that, but for his gymnastics training, he'd have fallen between their desks. He points at one of Billy's figures, his expression more closed than it's been in a while.

"How come you know who Batman is? Bucky doesn't. Aren't you from the same world?"

[halfscarlet]

If there's anyone Billy doesn't want to have to answer that question for, it's Jason. He's stronger than he realizes, Billy knows that, but there are still things that could break anyone, no matter who they are, and he gets the feeling being told he's fictional might be at the top of that list for Jason.

He'll kick himself for being so stupid later.

"We are," he answers, and flips to a fresh page to start a new sketch, this one starting with the Captain America uniform he's so familiar with. "But Bucky's from the nineteen forties like Steve, and I don't know the whole story, but he must have missed a lot of times -- decades, when you think about it -- to be around during my time." The more he talks, the more he hopes Jason will be distracted away from his first question. "There are probably lots of things Bucky doesn't know. And he had way more to do in his life than I did, I mean, he was in the army when he was like, ten or something."

[prodigaljaybird]

"Yeah," Jason exhales, shoulders rolling into something more relaxed. His grin comes out of nowhere. "He says stuff sometimes, old timey stuff. It's really hard not to laugh." Hard, at least, until Jason recalls that Bucky knows about thirty different ways to kill him if he pisses him off, and then it's really easy.

Abandoning his own page for now, Jason pokes at Billy's pad, turning it back to Batman with his pencil, which he stares at in silence for a while. "He's such a big fucking deal in Gotham, but he sticks to it. It's weird to think there's people that don't hear about him." Jason's eyes flick up. "He's kind of my dad."

[prodigaljaybird]

Jason has totally not had the kind of experience Steve's talking about. He's drawn things, but always for a purpose beyond the joy of it, hard, utilitarian lines, building outlines, blueprints, designs for new and more spectacular explosives. Never...perspectives, shadows and lines, so mostly he's hoping Steve won't ask, because it's really friggin' hard to lie to the guy.

He sits near Billy in the classroom, slightly hunched over his notepad and staring at the few outlines of people he's tried to draw. He likes painting better so far. It feels looser, fluid, less precise. It doesn't matter there if his lines aren't straight so long as they're bold. Dragging the paintbrush across a page almost makes him happy.

Drawing people? Not so much. Jason looks up and stares hard at Steve's jaw. Maybe he can get by with scribbling eyes on a square...

[onlyforthedream]

I wander over to stand behind Jason, look over what he's working on. The individual lines are exactingly precise, but as a whole don't seem to know what they're trying to form.

"You have an extremely steady hand," I comment.

"Can I recommend an exercise here?"

[prodigaljaybird]

Jason's eyes slide sideways to his hand, his grip so tight he has to relax or snap the pencil. At least that sounded like a good thing, his steady hand.

"Okay," he says, looking up with as open an expression he can muster. Steve doesn't seem like he's about to kick him out, but he doesn't want to press his luck. "I was trying to do you," he offers, in case Steve can't tell.

[onlyforthedream]

"It's a good start," I reply

[dancin_maxxie]

Maxxie waits in the doorway of the school room until the instructor is finished with his opening remarks, then sneaks up to the front in a way that he hopes isn't disturbing to the rest of the class. He really should have done this before class started, but he didn't have any idea who "Steve Rogers" was other than a name on a paper. He could have asked Jason, he supposes, but he also wanted to know for himself whether the instructor had any idea what he's on about. He does, that's for sure, so Maxxie comes up, armed with sketchbook and pencil case.

"Excuse me, Mr. Rogers?" he says softly. For fuck's sake, did the guy have to be so huge?

[onlyforthedream]

I look up from my own sketchbook, where I was jotting a few notes in small block letters, to the soft spoken young man with his own supplies. I have a guess as to what this might be in regard to.

"Yes?"

[dancin_maxxie]

"Sorry," he starts off, because that usually seems best when dealing with teachers. "I didn't want to disturb your class or anything, but I was hoping I could still enroll. I've got some of my sketches here, if you want to take a look. I never took any formal classes back home, but I'd like to now, if you'll have me."

And with that, he bites his lip, trying not to think of the half dozen teacher-student fantasies that have popped up in his head.

[onlyforthedream]

Other than attempting to teach the young man some arbitrary lesson about timeliness, I can't think of a reason not to let him join the class- there is none. He's certainly shown up prepared and ready to learn. All the same I hold a hand out to accept his notebook.

"I think we have room for one more," I tell him, smiling slightly.

"You heard the introduction," I say, having noted him when he entered but, in case he opted to reconsider, declined to draw attention to his presence, "so you'll know that everyone's working at their own level, really. May I?"

[itellthetaleof]

Gabrielle was supposed to be in Drawing II but she'd been the only person who signed up so she'd been invited to join the Drawing III class. The teacher had been more then kind in explaining how he'd be able to give them all personal attention so it wouldn't matter so she was fairly excited for the class!

So here she was, sitting with her sketchbook in hand, glancing over at the fellow student she'd decided to draw. She attempted to sketch out the basic shapes and proportions of the profile...but she kept getting distracted by her notes. Down the margin of the page, she'd written a description of the details of the profile to help herself think and to just get the words out, since they were so much easier then the image she was attempting to draw.

[onlyforthedream]

Making a round of my students while they work, I can't help noticing the notes jotted along the edges of the young woman's page. I pause, watching her pencil move for a few moments.

"Is this a technique of yours?" I ask, gesturing with the almost non-existent eraser end of my own pencil to the handwriting.

[itellthetaleof]

As the voice of the teacher penetrated her concentration, Gabrielle bit her bottom lip and flushed in slight embarrassment. "The words help me think." She said simply, not sure what else to say.

[talented_liar]

News of the island's attempts at an education system had reached Loki and for the most part he had chosen to disregard it. There were classes that he might wander through if the mood struck him, but he most certainly had not signed up for any of them. He had always found knowledge easier to acquire on his own, especially since the sort of teacher who could keep up with his mind was virtually nonexistent. As a child he had gone through quite the string of terrorized short-term tutors before Odin finally saw that it was best to leave the boy to the library and his own devices

[onlyforthedream]

As Loki turns from casually examining a van Gogh for what I'd wager is the third time, he finds me directly in his path, arms crossed.

"Loki," I say, voice flat.

"Were you here to audit the class?"

[talented_liar]

"Not at all." Loki shook his head and smiled. His expression was as innocent as he could make it -which was quite innocent indeed given the circumstances- though the way he held himself was anything but, challenging and arrogant instead. He did so want something to relieve the boredom.

"I was merely enjoying the art, Steve Rogers. Some of the pieces really are quite interesting."

[onlyforthedream]

"There's a museum next door with plenty of art to admire where you won't be distracting my students or tempted to steal from them," I point out.