forum Pheasant Brook School for Academically Gifted Boys // OxO // CLOSED

Started December 08, 2019 by @GoblinKing

tune

(yeah, of course!)

Claude got up from his seat, walking over to the teacher’s desk in short strides. They talked for a few minutes, although their voices were too quiet to hear easily. He nodded every so often, finally returning to his desk and flipping to the next page. This particular sketchbook had incredibly thick paper, similar to bristol board, so Claude had taken to painting directly in there instead of on a separate surface. He dug in his bag, pulling out a few small tubes of gouache and a couple brushes.

Kalen, too, went up to talk to the teacher about his composition. And while the answers the teacher gave were ridiculously vague, the impression was that his composition fit the criteria and he was good to go with painting it. Kalen turned to the next page of his sketch book, and began lightly mapping out objects with his pencil. He rummaged around one of the inside pockets of his bag, pulling out a couple of brushes, and three metal tins——inside of which were a mixture of water based and oil paints. After finding a small pot for water and some tissues, he set to work on the under-painting.

Claude did only a very simple sketch, mapping out the basic shapes. He knew the details well enough in his head, and had a small sheet of notes right beside him, so that was enough. Claude barely looked up from his piece as he worked on his underpainting.

The under-painting took a litle longer than Kalen had anticipated, but soon enough he was ready to begin the first layer. It was always difficult judging what part of the painting would be on which layer, but with a careful eye, even if mistakes were made, the painting would work in the end. The minor details were what Kalen was looking forward to, he always loved putting the finishing features on a piece.

Claude’s underpainting, was finished quickly- he was never one to have underpaintings take longer than 10 minutes, and this one was no different. He continued to make notes and little adjustments on his note sheet as the paint dried. Claude hated adding the tiny details. His hand was always just a little too shaky, and so he tried to create the impression of detail without actually needing to add it.

Kalen sat back to inspect his finished painting, nodding firmly in satisfaction. The reflection, the ombré sunset, the snow—everything was just like the image inside his head. While it was people he preferred to paint and sketch, landscapes were something of a guilty pleasure. He turned to look at Claude, who was concentrating harder than he had ever seen him before, however he didn't get a good look at what the Dutch was painting.

Claude stopped painting for a moment to push his hair out of his face and tuck it behind his ears. It was coming along well enough- even if it wasn’t as clear as some of the other paintings, that was the intent. The main thing he wanted to get across was the warm, earthy palette with shocks of green woven in. His notes page was a bit of a mess now, full of scrawlings, paint smudges, and ticked-off boxes.

Kalen's eyes grew heavy, and soon enough he found it difficult to even hold his head up. Slowly, very discreetly, his arm lay across the table and his head rested on top of it. His painting sat beside him, but not in a position where he would end up bumping into it should he move. He didn't want to sleep, but he physically couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.

Claude finally looked up from his work, taking a moment to glance around the room. Kalen caught his attention, and he honestly had half a mind to try and wake him up. He drummed his paint-stained fingers on the desk, giving his eyes a small break before going back to work.

Classes were now over for the day, and after Kalen had finished vigorously apologising to the art teacher for falling asleep in the lesson, he was free to go back to the common room for the remainder of the night if he wanted.
And that was exactly what he wanted—to just curl up by the fire and not have to think about whether a teacher would be shouting at him or not. He pushed open the door, shuffling his way inside towards one of the chairs beside the fireplace, and dropping himself heavily down onto the seat with a loud sigh.

Claude jumped a bit at the sudden noise, his concentration suddenly torn away from his work. He sat in another one of the armchairs, legs crossed, a textbook open in his lap. “Is something wrong..?” Claude looked up from his book at Kalen, not really expecting an answer.

Kalen was silent for a moment, before humming into the start of a sentence. “Well my philosophy homework went down better than I thought. In fact I think he was shocked by how well I’d done.” He ran both of his hands through his hair to mess it up even more than it already was, and loosened his tie. “Though I did end up sleeping in art, and the teacher was not best pleased. I got the work done at least…”

“That’s good, that’s good..” Claude nodded, continuing to listen. “Oh- I saw you sleeping, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to wake you or not, but you looked tired.” Claude, in contrast to Kalen, still looked incredibly put together, and he planned on staying that way until he went to bed. He glanced down at his book, turning the page and looking back up.

"Yeah, only issue now is that I feel wide awake and probably won't sleep until the early hours of the morning." Kalen rubbed his face and sighed. He glanced over at Claude, furrowing his eyebrows. "What book are you reading there, anything interesting?"