Downright Delinquents discussion

The art room which was actually most students safe haven was currently under the use of Evie, but not for the use of artistic purposes, of course not.
No, it would seem she was using this room to dangle herself from the windows, smoking the cigarette that hung loosely from her lips, it wasn't like the students weren't allowed to smoke, they were but it had to be outside the building and as always at Downrights, it was raining.

She hummed absent-mindedly as she inhaled deeply, savouring the burning sensation in her lungs as the smoke entered them, intent on poisoning her and blackening her lungs, working all too slow for Evie's liking.

Morticia strode into the room, lured by the possibility of updating her anatomy studies through a quick refresher. She was more of a visual learner, taking things in. She froze when she smelled smoke, the scent wafting into her nostrils, down her trachea, and into her lungs.

The frown that stuck to her face was clear, showing just how much she disapproved of someone smoking in a public area. She didn't say anything, not yet invested enough in this school to even care. She cross the room, ignoring the girl at the window, to the paints.

Anna entered the room, feeling a surge of anger at her parents. They had never believed that her artwork was worth anything, even though it was the only way she expressed herself. She smirked when she saw the other girls in the room. "What the hell are you doing hanging out in the art room of all places?"

Smudge came out from the darkroom and stopped short from the bright lights. Her arms were full of the art supplies she kept in a hidden drawer in the. Smudge was on a mission. She was already over to her easel before she realized that there were students in her room.
As she inhaled to greet the girls an as she did she got a mouth full of cigarette smoke. She paused for a moment and thought about how to proceed, before finishing her thought.
"Hello ladies," she said cooly.

Annabel raised her eyebrows at the teacher. "Uh... Hi?" She took a seat nonchalantly, smacking on her chewing gum, which was supposed to help her get over her addictions. "You the art teacher or sumthin'?"

Smudge smiled at the girl. "I am! Have any of you signed up for an art class this year?"
She had worked with kids like this. She's spent some time in troubled areas around the world and she was excited for the challenge of teaching these students and the opportunity to get to know them.

Morticia ignored them, having decided that they weren't very interesting. One had bent herself to forcing her lung into a state of black, another had walked in and questioned hem on something she hasn't paid much attention to, and the other was engrossed in her painting. She picked an easel and canvas, setting them up away from the girls. She proceeded to start her diagram from memory, as opposed to looking at a reference.

Annabel sat up a little. "I wish. My parents don't want me doing art though. They think my work is just a bunch of shit." She rolled her eyes. "Then again they think I'm just a bunch of shit. So no, I haven't, because of my stupid parents. But I love art."

"My god, the girls a genius," Evie muttered quietly, that snide comment directed entirely to Annabel, she had now moved away from the window, leaning back against the wall to run her pale eyes over the art class, she wasn't much of an artist, she was a musician if anything.

He eyes narrowed in on Annabel, chewing obnoxiously loud on her gum, the very sound setting her on edge, "you can chew with your mouth closed right?" She asked bluntly, taking another draw, then decided to do an upside down waterfall, the head rush was amazing.

Anna narrowed her eyes at Evie. "You can talk with your mouth closed, right?" She remarked, finding her voice annoying. She continued chewing, hating the feel if the gum in her mouth anyway. Anna kept it up still, now just to annoy Evie. When the teacher turned her back on them, Anna flipped Evie off. "What? Can't function right without your precious cigarette?"

Eve wasn't faxed at all by the girls reaction, she simply nodded, making an agreeing noise, it was true, she could speak with her mouth shut. Not that she was going to remain like that, "sorry, I can always stub it off it you'd like?" Evie said sweetly, making her way towards Annabel, the tip of her cigarette burning brightly,"on you that it," she added softy, it didn't sound threatening but the simple proposition was enough.

"Oh I don't mind the smoke," she said. "By all means, it's your choice. It's you that I have a problem with. The cigarette and I will get along fine, no worries." Anna mumbled, looked at the desk, bored with the conversation already.

"Can both of you possibly be quiet," Mortician inquired after a few minutes of listening to them. She was close to about done with the basic outline of the skeleton now, filling in the black lines with a soft white color. "You're all very important and all, but you're distracting."

Anna raised her eyebrows at Morticia. "No," she said bluntly. Then, "Aren't you my roommate? This should be interesting." Anna glanced at the girl's artwork. "You're not half bad," she said, wishing her parents had allowed her to enroll for art as well, as it was her one and only passion.

"No? Is it a physical inability," Morticia questioned dryly, turning to face her for a moment, "If so I can gladly remove your vocal chords for you." Her expression was serious and blank, with not an ounce of caring. The emotional disconnect usually set people off, but she couldn't be sure with this bunch. "And yes, I am. Touch my shit, and you will lose your hands. Thank you for the compliment." She turned back to her art, finishing the skeleton before going to the body with skin and organs.

She stood up. "Go ahead. Try. That is, if you wanna wake up in the ER." Anna fantasizes about stabbing her in the back repeatedly, although she knew it wasn't the right response. Her parents though she was responsible for her rapists murder though, so why not live up to their standards? She looked more closely at her artwork. "What the hell? You're drawing bodies? God you're messed up..."

"Sweatheart, I work in the ER," Morticia retorted. She frowned, brows drawn. She'd used the wrong tense in her earlier sentence. If anything, she needed past tense. The biography had messed with her career, and she was sure this girl had heard of her at some point, the whole thing an international scandal. "I'm not messed up; I'm refreshing. As a surgeon, I need to stay in shape for my job."

((sorry, hangin' with the real folks))

Having reappeared from the dark room Smudge raised her eyebrows at the argument going on. She decided not to interfere unless absolutely necessary. She figured they'd work their differences out soon enough and she was confident that art would help that process.
Walking over to the girl with the fairest complexion who was using a drawing easel.
"That is really impressive," she said, genuinely dazzled by the accuracy. "Have you had any training?"

"No, nothing but hours of working over the actual thing and years of being surrounded by them," Morticia replied quietly, her attention focused on her work. She pursed her lips when she reached a point where she had to think. Brushing back a lock of hair, she pondered what it was she was missing.

Smudge continued to watch over her shoulder, not wanting to give her any hints as to what she was missing. She figured that this young lady was more then capable of fixing her own mistakes.
"So what are you ladies names?" she asked quietly, turning back to the rest of the students in the room.

"Morticia Casketine Celeste Marquise Graves," Morty replied, setting back to work. Her memory had filled in the gaps, having gone through reenacting a surgery she'd done recently. She'd have to go back into the files tonight.

"Your shading is phenomenal, Morticia" Smudge complimented. "You've got a lot of natural talent."
Smudge walked over to her own private easel and set down her other armful of sketchbooks and various pencils. She scanned around the rest of the room, getting a good look at the rest of the girls. She was usually pretty good with faces and she certainly did not want to forget these girls. She could definitely see some potential trouble.

Morticia frowned. There was far too much optimism coming from this teacher. "There have been 32,000 deaths, costing 9 billion dollars,'all relatin to surgical deaths," she stated, "I don't have a hand in any of those numbers."

Anna, frustrated, went over to an easel and started working. She hasn't done this since a year ago, as her parents forbid it. When she was finally done, and had projected every deep, dark emotion she felt onto the canvas, she stepped back to look at it, finding it distasteful.

http://neodecay.deviantart.com/art/Un...

Morticia sent a glance Anna's way, regarding the work indifferently before returning to finish her piece. "For someone who said I was messed up, you must be messed up as well," she remarked calmly. She'd dabbled in a bit of psychology, before they'd decided she was a bit too invested in the study.

Annabel stopped working and just stared at Morticia. "The difference is that I know I'm messed up. I just don't give a damn," she said quietly, and began working on another piece. Anna worked in silence, tired of talking about herself any longer.

"Whoever said I didn't acknowledge the insanity in me," Morticia retorted emotionlessly, before quoting, "I became insane, with horrible periods of sanity." She stood, collecting her work to set it on a rack to dry. Her boots clacked against the surface of the floor, loud and echoing throughout the room.

Smudge took a long blink. She couldn't help but to be somewhat intimidated by these girls. They were rather intense. You knew what you were getting yourself into, she thought with a mental sigh.
"None of you are 'messed up', just..." she searched for the right word. "Misunderstood. That's all."

Evie glanced up, throwing the butt of her cigarette out the window, she gave this teacher a curious look, "you're right, we aren't messed up," she agreed in a simple tone, before a smile crossed her lips," we're fucked up," she informed her, moving to sit on a chair, twirling a pencil between her fingers.

Smudge looked up at the girl who was the source of the smoke that she had been ignoring.
"Come now," she said tilting her head in a bit of a warning manner, but with a bit of a smirk on her face. "I am a teacher after all, the least I can do is ask you not to swear."

"You do know you're in Downrights?" She questioned, no longer looking tithe woman but at a blank canvas, most people drew things or people, not Evie, she drew buildings she used colours you would never image placing together, some things looked warped and disturbed whereas others looked godly wonderful.

Morticia was growing bored with this group. There was no sign for anyone willing to go trough experimentation, and her refresher was done. She stood, crossing the room back to the drying rack to check on the progress of her painting. "The only 'fucked up' people here would exclude the teacher and myself," she stated blatantly.

"Perhaps the her, but would you really be here if you were normal?" Eve asked, it wasn't a stupid question, her point was actually valid for once, "also, I don't think being a surgical genius at your age is quite normal," she added vaguely.

"Girls." Smudge said firmly, but non-threateningly. "Please."
She flicked her eyes to each one of them, making sure that they knew that she was not going to let them push her around. She began to walk slowly around the room to observe what the girls were working on.

Violet slowly came in, she had a worn pencil and her own sketchpad. She was looking at the ground. When she finally looked up, she didn't except so many people. She took a deep breath and walked in. She didn't touch anything of another person's and sat in the corner of the back remembering her home and the land around it. It helped her, but it had to be like this. Exactly like she pictured it or it would be ugly and horrible to her.

"I'm only here for my safety," Mortician retorted, "Getting death threats isn't exactly normal, nor having a murderer for a brother." She rolled her eyes, slight irritation building. She didn't much care for the teacher at this point, ignoring her as much as possible. "Normalcy is an irrational thought made up by 'fucked up' people who feel the need to show off how unhappy they are."

"Ladies." Smudge said, louder this time. "It would upset me if I had to ask you to leave the art room because of such a petty argument." She paused and gave them all a look they wouldn't soon forget. "Now. Either have a civil discussion or leave."

Anna smirked at the teacher. "Fine," she said. "Leaving it is." She dropped her canvas on the floor, assuming it was terrible anyways, got up, and started out. It wasn't as if she needed company anyways.

http://annasponer.com/gallery/plog-co...

"Childish," Morticia muttered, going to pick up the canvas, "Were you sent here for not cleaning up after yourself?" She set it in the drying rack, sure that someone else would want it.

Anna turned around casually. "Oh no, just an alleged murder and drugs and alcohol and such." She looked Morticia over. "But judging by the looks of it, you were sent here to clean up after me anyways, so that shouldn't be a problem, now should it?" Anna dreaded the fact that she was going to be roomed with her, the freaking so-called genius, the one who seemed to actually care about the rules. Who does that?

Smudge sighed, closed her eyes, and shook her head. Classes don't even start until tomorrow. She went over to the rack where Morticia had placed the other girl's drawing. Taking it in her hands she squinted, to analyze the picture. It was very well done. She smiled to herself. Perhaps if I can get them to behave, it'll be a good year after all.

Anna narrowed her eyes at the teacher who was now looking at her work. "It doesn't matter okay? If you think it sucks too, like everyone else does, I'm not taking this class anyway. Parents won't fucking let me," she said with a wave of her hand as if she didn't care.

"Wonderful; I'll have fun picking your brain," Morticia laughed drily, "I mean, once I've bled you out and everything." She shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "You'll have to tell me what the pain is like, though you'll have to write it down on account that you won't be able to speak." She grinned, brushing past Anna to get out.

Anna rolled her eyes, not really caring what Morticia said. "I doubt you have the courage to do any of that, but thanks for the inspiration," she said drily. She started over to the teacher, wanting to take back the canvas so she could get rid of it.

Smudge looked up at the girl and knit her brow and shook her.
"No, no.I don't think it's bad at all," she walked over to her and examined it with her, pointing out things that were done brilliantly. "Your use of smudging and shading is very good. I think a few art classes would benefit you greatly!" She handed her the picture and put her hands on her hips and smiled. "I won't tell your parents if you don't."

Anna looked up at her blankly, actin apathetic. "Okay whatever." She got up, taking the canvas and dumping it in the recycling bin on her way out. "See ya later teach."

"Ms. Smudge," she called after the girl, hopeful she'd return for a class. "That's what the kids called me in Romania."
When she had left the room she turned around and saw a new face who had snuck in while the other girls were arguing. She was sitting in a corner with a sketchpad. She was pale and seemed much more timid then the other girls.
"Hi there," she said with a smile.

Jack somehow found her way in the art room, and she slid in, deftly maneuvering around easels and such. Her green eyes flicked across the room, watching and processing. She sat at a small stool a bit away from the others, and pondered what she was going to draw. A tree. Jack discovered India ink in a small container on a counter, and she merely grabbed that and a few brushes. She knew that she shouldn't use the brushes with the ink, but she didn't care much. Jack went quickly to work, outlining the contours of the branches. She had flicked some ink in her blonde hair, but she didn't notice at all.

((? Did you mean Jack? >.< I'm confuzzled))