Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
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Post by Elena on Oct 16, 2010 17:19:08 GMT -8
Art class was one of those classes Sai could say he was excellent in. If you were to ask him about any other class, he would reply that he “achieved to his expectations” but Art was different. It was a class he didn’t have to take yet much like how he had the urge to draw; he had this inherent will to take the class. Every year of his school life he would have teachers stand behind him, look at his work appraisingly, or offer him some suggestions here and there. He always felt like he needed to do better, work harder to catch some concept, to be able to capture “life” into his work, and all these intangible things that escaped him. He became a perfectionist. With proper instruction, he could draw anything. Any pose, any combination of colour, any style of art, all one had to do is lay down what they wanted and he’d give them exactly as it was. In all his effort he believed that what he was doing was the way it should be done.
Iwakura-sensei was unusual toward him, however. Unlike the kinder art teachers he was used to, Iwakura spoke in a loud voice. He did not often offer compliments, mostly complaints, and there was talk that he made a freshman girl cry. His art teacher did not give good instructions.
For someone who would give such simple instructions he had so many things he wanted. These unspoken criteria made Sai a tad bit cautious, but he would do his best to give what was expected of him. He realized that the man probably didn’t have a lot of praise for him, but Sai had made the mistake of raising his eyebrow and asking, “You have a penis?” on the first day of class when Iwakura-sensei introduced himself and the curriculum. Sai was grateful that the teacher didn’t get him suspended for the comment, but it would be useless to think that the androgynous male was fond of him in any way.
Today’s task was to sculpt an animal. Sai chose to sculpt a betta fish, as he was sure it would be easier to carve fins than fur, and that when painted he could work with colours like purple. So, with a reference picture, he tried to make one of actual size and shape. The fins were fanning out, and carefully, with a pick, he was drawing in the thin lines of the many, many scales of the body and head into the clay. He was careful, working with a delicate hand, in focus. It would take time, but he was certain it would come out as a real fish. Working in such micro detail was a challenge he felt he could take on. Just as his scales were moving in toward the tail, he could hear his sensei’s footsteps, and even hear him breathing behind him. He heard other students talk about how whenever sensei stood behind them to watch them work it was a terrifying, intimidating presence, but Sai never seemed to share that experience.
“Is everything to your expectations so far?” He asked, never taking his eyes off his work. Delicate procedures needed full attention, after all.
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Post by → victoria on Oct 17, 2010 14:57:07 GMT -8
As most of Konoha High was beginning to realize, Deidara was not the kind of teacher who sugar-coated anything. In fact, he seemed to find enjoyment in plucking apart the confidence of some of the more meek, timid students. Really, though, Art was a class to be taken seriously. He realized some of the students -- particularly the dense, male ones -- considered art to be pointless and unimportant. He had even caught several of the Juniors falling asleep in class the other day. He had been unamused, to say the least. Would today be any different? No. So far, his expectations had not been met with any capabilities that suited his liking. The "artwork" the students had provided had been lackluster at best. Already, he had doubts as to whether there were any real artists among this motley crew. And then there was Sai.
The blond fixed his gaze upon the student in question. Hmph. Sai. The boy had only succeeded in puzzling and irritating him. From the start, things had kicked off in a negative direction. There were a few ways to provoke Deidara's temper and one was openly questioning his masculinity. It wasn't as though the man made any attempts to modify his androgyny, but his pride did not enjoy the remarks nonetheless. It had taken a great deal of self-control to keep from punching, strangling, or suspending the student for so boldly mistaking his gender. Oh, yes, Deidara had certainly patted himself on the back for such role-model behavior. He was actually surprised he hadn't acted on his plots to smuggle explosive material into the kid's locker. Good job, Deidara. Gold star for you.
Huh. Seemed as though the pale, fake-smiling boy had chosen to sculpt a fish for today's assignment. A betta fish, even, like the one in the fishbowl perched decoratively on his kitchen counter. Already, Deidara had his doubts. Sai was just going to turn it into another realistic replica; something bland, expected, and lacking in creativity that made art so very alive and extraordinary. So, feeling the need to constantly nitpick (perhaps in vengeance for the unfortunate first impressions made between the two), Deidara stepped up behind the young man and bent slightly to look over his shoulder. Everything was anatomically correct, everything was detailed and proportionate... "Tch." Yeah, he wasn't impressed. Not at all.
"Hardly." He grunted and waved a hand in a dismissive gesture that suggested further disdain in the matter. The realistic sculpture wasn't even worth close inspection. It was just like everything else Sai produced; an image of realistic, anatomical perfection. Where was the life? The oomph that made art unique?! It was nonexistent in his work. Hell, it was worse than "pop" art. Deidara saw only an image of a fish. Nothing more and nothing less. He moved to the side to lean his lower-back against the edge of the table where the boy was working, arms crossed across his chest now that he was facing the culprit of such artistic flaw. "This is just like all the other things you've shown me. Dull, bland, lifeless!" He tossed his bangs out of his face for a moment, only to have them fall back into a place as he clicked his tongue. "Skills are nothing without vision, un. I'm disappointed."
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Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
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Post by Elena on Oct 17, 2010 19:24:37 GMT -8
His pick didn’t pause—he didn’t want to stop until all the scales were in place. Just a few more, and it would be done, so as Deidara positioned himself around him and delivered the ‘bad news’ Sai could only listen and work. The insults were surely not very politically correct of a teacher, but Sai’s own personal expectations of what a teacher did could not apply to every class, so he was learning. Student and teacher relationships varied on the two variables, and the only thing he could control was the student part. While his eyes narrowed, and a bubble of agitation floated about inside him, he would certainly not cower before his teacher like his other classmates would. Actually, he would try to understand. He was a very obedient sort of person. He did as he was told. Sai was certain that he had completed all the spoken criteria. What it was that this man wanted from him, he would have to explain.
He didn’t respond even when the ‘disappointed’ teacher was finished talking. Ah… There. The last scale was in place, and he blew softly across his work, removing the shavings. Some students around him paused, looking at him, wondering if he was actually ignoring the man right beside him. No, he had listened to everything with patience, and he was finally able to respond.
“I am sorry to have disappointed you. That was not my intention.” He placed the pick on the desk beside the standing sculpture and regarded him with a half lidded gaze. He wasn’t smiling, though his expression was not repentant either. Unreadable, nearly casual in his regard, he dusted off his hands idly as he spoke in a languidly,“However, I believe I have done excellent in matching your instruction. There is a rubric somewhere…” He opened his binder, organized as any excelling student would. It took him no time at all to leaf through the latest hand out.
He stepped beside his teacher with an ease that no other student could replicate. The timid, frightened bunch would surely be shaking, whereas the average and underachieving would find it just too uncomfortable a proximity for such a disagreeable teacher. His side was up close to his as he held the page in front of them so both could read.
“Your instructions were to sculpt an animal. You were asked yesterday if fish and other aquatic beings were acceptable and you had said yes—as you can see by my note there—and where exactly is it I am having problems? I have originality—no one else has done this animal, and no one else has made an attempt to be as accurate as I am.”
Attempt they have, perhaps, but Sai was just better at it.
He glanced at him. “Or… Did you want something more like your own work? Imitation is flattery, after all. If you wanted such a flat, cartoon style I would have liked for you to specify that. Otherwise, I will move forward on my own and challenge myself. I think as a student I have already grown past that style, but I can see you are fond of it.”
Did Sai just diss Iwakura-sensei? The words were said so normally, without snark or bite, in the same tone he’d tell him that his hair was long and blonde, but tone or not the words were still there. Most of the class was taking those discreet glances toward their teacher, waiting for the reaction.
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Post by → victoria on Oct 17, 2010 22:44:13 GMT -8
What was it about Sai, exactly, that annoyed Deidara so? Truth be told, the boy's artistic skills weren't half bad. On the first day of classes, the TA had requested the students to make something -- anything -- that would give him a clue concerning their capabilities. He remembered that, despite his early dislike of Sai, he'd been able to notice that the kid could actually draw pretty well. The blond artist may have favored his style over any other, but he could recognize when there was talent in someone else. A pity this talent was being wasted with such a vague, lifeless mindset. When he looked at Sai's work, all he saw were lines on paper or a slab of molded clay. There was nothing alive or creative about them. Why didn't the student understand this? Tch. Seriously, it was beginning to really, really grate on his nerves.
At first, he thought the brat was ignoring him. Oh, really? Did he think he was above him and his artistic genius? Already, Deidara could feel his anger stirring in his gut, twisting into knots. The only disadvantage to being a teacher was not being able to punch students in the face. Really, now. Why couldn't schools just turn a blind eye to that sort of thing? Fuck the law and fuck the well-being of children everywhere. It wasn't as though he wanted to murder any of them... But wouldn't it be just fine to let a teacher punish their students for acting out in class? Sure, the definitions of "punish" and "acting out" were loose and easy to twist, but it was all in the name of keeping students in line... right? Well, in this case, it was more than merely asserting authority, but asserting his own pride as well. Having his ego prodded at wasn't exactly his idea of a good, productive day.
He glanced down at the fish Sai had sculpted, expression all the more unimpressed even with his nose wrinkled slightly, as though he'd smelt something foul. The realism had no creativity! It was as though the boy had copied something out of a National Geographic magazine. Nothing unique, nothing exciting. Just... imitation. Real art was formed from emotion and creative thought. But this? Hmph. It was ugly. Formed by skilled hands, but flawed in ways that would have Deidara venting for hours. Lucky for the class, they were only forced to endure him for forty-five minutes or so. His blue eyes were focused intently on Sai's face as he kept his temper calm (he didn't even bother looking down at the handout Sai was referring back to). He'd noticed his expression change ever so slightly. The subtle narrow of the eyes had been enough to alert Deidara to possible agitation somewhere behind that stoic mask. If that was the case, then slight satisfaction could be found in this situation. If he couldn't get his vision across to the teen, then he'd just have to settle with getting under his skin. Such seemed like quite the challenging task, however.
The momentary smirk that had begun to curve the edge of his mouth quickly faded as he continued to listen to Sai's explanation. His expression was becoming annoyed again with an unimpressed tension woven into his demeanor. This kid... He just didn't know when to shut up, did he? Deidara had actually managed to keep quiet this entire time, clenching his teeth to keep from lashing out immediately. Besides, he was curious to see further how oblivious Sai was to his own artistic flaws. But, as the pale teen spoke more and more, the blond could feel his stomach squirm again. It was when he started bashing his superflat style that Deidara had to summon all the strength in his body to keep himself from choking him. He... He did not just go there.
For a minute, Deidara just stood there. His fists were balled tight and his head was bowed. His arms even trembled, as though truly fighting the urge to lunge at the young man standing so calmly beside him. Had this brat just tried to suggest that he was childish? That his art was immature?! Little piece of shit... I'll kill him... I'll fucking-- No, no. Mustn't think like that. Mustn't let his temper get the better of himself, right? Oh, but it was tempting. If he didn't feel he had anything to lose, he'd gladly sacrifice his teaching position to kick Sai's ass without restraint. But, as it so happened, he needed to keep this job... For now, anyway. In the need to hit something, he let his fist slam down on the tabletop as he slowly breathed a deep exhale. I'm better than this little bitch, was all he thought to himself as he finally willed his gaze back to Sai's face. Such a smug little face in all its apathy. It'd look better all blown up. Oh dear, he didn't think such awful things, did he? Heh. Who was going to stop him?
"My art is mine alone." The man's voice was level, but forcibly so. The hint of a growl could be heard somewhere in the depths of his throat. "You know nothing of the superflat style, nor do you seem capable of appreciating it. So typical of someone so disillusioned." He actually seemed to hiss with his suppressed rage, though did what he could to shed it. Straightening his posture a little, Deidara reached up to rake his fingers through his long hair. That's right... Calm down. "You know what, Sai? I think you'd benefit from an extra workload. You obviously don't understand the essence of creativity," he said, turning to face him directly. He tilted his head up proudly, lips drawn into a thin line as he addressed him and willed his temper to settle, if only slightly.
"I want you to make three more sculptures in your free time, due Thursday next week. Each one has to be of a different animal. Simple, no?" He glanced back to the scultped betta on the table, flicking its clay snout lightly with his fingers as he scowled. "This isn't what I want to see. This isn't original, it's mediocre. Anyone can copy the way a fish looks! You're not an artist until you can make it something extraordinary, un." Lip curled in discontent, he cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. "If you have any objections, I'll just give you detention for failing to cooperate with an assignment. Sound good?" Because he certainly couldn't let the kid get away with boldly insulting his beloved art. Some might call it overreacting, but Deidara called it artistic justice.
ooc; woahhhh sorry about the rambling. D:
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Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
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Post by Elena on Oct 18, 2010 22:16:09 GMT -8
Sai was getting rather good at pinpointing emotions on people. He had an easier time figuring out expressions, certainly, and right now suppressed rage seemed to fit the bill. Murderous intent was also another thing Sai would point out, but it was less on the face and more in the unseen presence. That was always Sai’s problem though, wasn’t it? He could more easily see the emotion in other people than express and identify it in himself. Should he look sorry that he had made his teacher angry? He wasn’t too upset over it. Should he too share this rage that seemed to come up so suddenly? Mm, he wasn’t so dramatic. What did he feel about the situation at hand? His number one emotion of course…
Confused.
That, and definitely negative emotion that was making him dislike this conversation and these insults. He almost wanted to tell his teacher to stop being so difficult and just admit that Sai had done exactly as he said and the fault lay within his hands as teacher. He was being lectured again without what he felt was proper explanation. All that super flat style meant to him was super lacking in detail. Sensei threw another petty word around. What constituted someone being ‘disillusioned’ anyways?
The real dislike began when Iwakura-sensei added to his workload. He was being punished for what exactly? Telling the truth that his art style was simple and easy for someone who was used to working in such detail? At this point, Sai was visibly displeased. His tightened, jaw clenching behind them, and his narrow gaze was shooting toward his teacher.
Three sculptures, even in a week, would take up a lot of time. Sai could do it in three days, even with all the other workload considered, but this time it was different. He’d have to put thought, attach emotion, to each piece. That would take forever, and who was too say the result would turn out positive anyways?
With a forced smile, he gave him his answer. “Yes, Iwakura-san, I will do my best.” He took a breath, looking at his abused betta. “You must provide me with all the clay I request, however. You’ll also need to supervise me in one of the art rooms after school. School policy.” That was coming out to be extra work for Iwakura.
“We’d be seeing each other a lot more then. How flattering of you, sensei, but if you want to spend time with me there are other ways of arranging that.” He replied smoothly, carelessly.
He was not liking this. He was already getting enough homework as is.
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Post by → victoria on Oct 19, 2010 0:29:15 GMT -8
In spite of the rage that writhed inside his gut, Deidara had noticed that his words had actually had an effect on his student. The blond was an insensitive man, but good at reading the reactions of those he interacted with. Sai only seemed capable of producing that hollow, irritating smile... until now. Ah, so even the emotionless can be provoked? Good. Deidara had begun to grow sick of looking at that vapid expression. It was as bland as the artwork he produced; empty and cold. Now, however, he was beginning to see slivers of humanity peering past the calm demeanor Sai was usually swathed in. The young TA couldn't help but take satisfaction out of finally managing to pluck at the nerves he had begun to figure might be non-existent. Turned out that Sai was just like all of the other brats he dealt with day in and day out. How cute.
Really, though, he almost didn't know what had irritated him. He should have known better than to insult his teacher's favorite art form. What sort of idiot does that, anyway? In Deidara's opinion, his "punishment" fit the crime of his boldness. The blond artist had only done what any other good teacher would have. His scowl was slowly replaced with a bemused half-smirk as he resumed leaning his lower-back against the edge of the table in a languid turn of his body. He crossed his arms across his chest again and tilted his head, as though curious to hear what Sai might have to contribute to the assignment he'd arranged off the top of his head. Deidara noticed that the new smile he wore was forced. Heh. Perfect.
Of course, Sai was obedient. If he'd objected directly, the artist would have been taken aback. His smirk faltered for a moment, though, as he listened to him. First of all, he'd never been too fond of being continuously addressed by his surname. It made it sound like he was some old, stuffy teacher with a stick up his ass. He was aware that it was simply proper school etiquette, but he still hadn't grown used to it. "Deidara-san," he corrected him coolly, hoping to suggest this enough to break the habit (formal had never been his style, anyway). And, secondly, was Sai actually going out of his way to be a thorn in his side? Stupid brat. He was just asking to have his locker tampered with. But, regardless of being agitated again, Deidara didn't seem to be scowling as much. The mere amusement of being able to successfully goad Sai was enough to assure himself that he had the upper-hand, even with a difficult student like this.
"Yeah, yeah. If you don't get enough of the work done here at school, I'll just recommend that you take some of the clay home with you. I don't need to follow you there, do I?" His smirk was back in place as he spoke, an eyebrow raised again. "How funny, un. Really, I'm not looking forward to sharing this room with you after school. See how I sacrifice so much to help you? I think thanks are in order." Deidara laughed softly, moving from where he'd been leaning against the table to head back toward his desk. A few of the gawking students bowed their heads as he passed, hoping to appear hard at work. "Perhaps you can even take notes when I use that time to work on a few sculptures of my own. Maybe then, you'll actually understand true art. Hn." Sure, having to give up his own free time to supervise Sai's new workload was a bit of a drag, but maybe the kid would finally be able to learn properly from him. And, if not... Well, at least he'd still gotten him annoyed. That, in itself, was a victory for Deidara.
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Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
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Post by Elena on Oct 19, 2010 8:45:34 GMT -8
If that was the way he wanted it, then Sai could call him Deidara-san. It was informal, but it was a request all the same, and thus could not be blamed for it too much if it was so out of line. Sensei was becoming less angry, but Sai didn’t fool himself into thinking that the man had seen reason. Sai didn’t like this expression any more than the previous. It was patronizing, bemused, and very so much like the one everyone told him he wore perpetually. His jaw slackened and he breathed deeply through his nose once again, willing himself to ignore the negative emotions. He was really, really annoyed at having to do extra work so unfairly. Sai didn’t see the reason in it. He knew his sculpture was correct according to the guidelines. He was being penalized for vague concepts and ideas. He had offended for merely stating a fact about his sensei’s style.
Well, if he was going to be punished, then he may as well do something a little more worth it. He knew very well what he was doing was out of line, but as obedient as he was Sai didn’t mind letting go of his inhibitions in favour of his own amusement. If ‘Deidara-san’ wanted a more informal title, than he’d get an attitude to match it.
“Ah…” He let out his breath in an airy puff, taking with it all of the tension within him. His jaw went slack, his eyes half-lidded in a rather lazy expression, and his stance altogether became less rigid.
“Deidara-san, I would have thought you not to be so blind-sighted. If there is one thing you could have seen from my art-work, is that I don’t do things in halves.” He gave him the one-over, judging his appearance.
“If I wanted to take a woman home, I would. I wouldn’t settle for a man who looks like one.” He smiled, and some people couldn’t help but giggle. Yes, it was amusing wasn’t it? His gaze dropped from Deidara’s face. “Unless…” He took a step forward, closing the distance, and pressed his hand against his teacher’s chest in a way that, if he really was a woman, he’d be copping a feel. His palm met flat, and there were choking sounds around them and the faint hiss of ’Oh my god, he did NOT just do that…’ It was not every day that you got to see a student sexually harassing a teacher like that, and so openly to.
“Oh, so you really are male after all.” He dropped his hand, and casually rested it on his hip.
Now he’d take the punishment and insult. It felt quite worth it, as at least he got to confirm his suspicions and rule out the possibility Deidara-san wasn’t just a cross-dresser or whatever.
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Post by → victoria on Oct 19, 2010 11:30:57 GMT -8
Watching Sai look so disgruntled... Oh, it was more satisfying than Deidara had first figured. He could encourage negative emotion in someone so stoic, so calm. Really, he was an artist; a man capable of inspiring feeling, good and bad. Manipulative? Maybe only a little... and only because it was fun sometimes to watch his students squirm. From his perspective, though, he hadn't been unfair at all. He had enacted the perfect punishment for someone who had been so rude and offensive as to insult his life's work. His reasons were perfectly justified and Sai should have been kissing his feet in gratitude. He'd been so merciful, after all. There could have been far worse things in store for the student, but he'd chosen to be a mature, responsible adult about all this. Yes, Deidara, you are a clearly an inspiration to young teachers everywhere.
His smirk was still slyly curved along his mouth as he took note of every action Sai presented. In a way, he was still very annoyed at him for the sheer nerve he'd had, but felt that everything was turning into his favor. "He's such a cool teacher," the kids must've been saying, sitting in awe of his behavior. Little did he know that "cool" was usually replaced with "bitchy" when students actually muttered such things behind their hands. Oh well. Ignorance is bliss, they say. And so is the smug sensation of triumph one has over besting a particularly difficult teenager. He barely registered Sai's voice when he spoke again, having been too immersed in how pleased he was over handling this situation. He did notice him looking him over, however, which perplexed the blond and caused him to arch a brow to show for it.
"A... woman?" And now Deidara's haughty satisfaction began to wane. Sai was reverting back to doubting his gender, hm? The TA was not content with this change of subject. It'd been annoying enough to correct his own teaching colleagues in the lounge during his first day. What was so confusing for them all? His smirk faded a little and his visible eye narrowed as it fixed intently on the pale boy's face. Apparently, the battle of wits had not ended. Sai really must have intended to grate on his nerves to the best of his ability. Was he enacting his own form of revenge for the extra workload? In any case, Deidara wasn't about to let him have it. "Is that so? With you, it isn't easy to tell. I didn't think you liked girls, anyway."
The temperamental blond had begun to smirk again, but Sai seemed to be stepping closer. Wait, why? What was he doing...? Oh. Oh, hell no. For a moment, Deidara froze. There was a hand on his chest... There was hand on his chest feeling him up. Once he realized this, all his rage came flooding back in a tsunami that coiled tight throughout his insides. Had he been a woman, he would have smacked him hard. However, his gender actually seemed to make this less appropriate, so he refrained. When Sai's hand dropped down, though, Deidara managed to reach out to try and grip the collar of his uniform and keep him close, fingers curling tight into the fabric. His jaw was clenched and his slanted eyes were narrowed into a striking glare. "Too bad you won't get to start on your extra work today. You'll be too busy sitting in detention, un!" The man's voice was nearly as venomous as the intensity of his pale blue stare.
He gave his collar a twist, then released it roughly with a grunt. "And, no. I won't be supervising it. Guess we won't be spending quality time together until Monday. That is, if you manage to keep from getting another detention." Yes, that was another threat. Deidara was aware that some of his students might notify the principal of his aggressive behavior, but that had never been an issue as long as he knew how to play his cards right. Kids had such "wild" imaginations these days, didn't they? Tch. Too bad they couldn't apply it to their artwork. The blond sneered and walked back to his desk to write this up, aware that the bell was sure to ring at any moment now. Good. He needed to get away from these brats before he found himself strangling them. "I'm more male than you'll ever be," was what he muttered grumpily to himself as he finished the note he'd written. He'd decided not to write up that Sai had sexually harassed him, though. Being mocked for that wouldn't be very appealing to his ego if word spread through the teacher's lounge.
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Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
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Post by Elena on Oct 19, 2010 14:11:46 GMT -8
Everyone always assumed he didn’t like girls. It was true that he one time punched a girl in the face when he was thirteen, when she kept teasing him and stealing his artbook, but that was when he didn’t know there was such a taboo around it. It was true that their higher levels of estrogen made them emotional hurricanes, but the same could be said that testosterone made boys aggressive and one-sighted. Both men and women had their downfalls, but he had nothing against girls in general. He could like a female just fine. Sakura was his friend, was she not, and he thought he put up with her quite well.
Nevermind, the assumption didn’t deserve clarification.
When Deidara grabbed his collar, pulling him in, initiating some rather intense eye contact, Sai was unperturbed. See, now Deidara truly had a reason to be angry for him. Sai had broken a taboo, and it was alright to be upset. Sai could understand this, and really, he preferred the anger and loss of control over that condescending smirk. He met his gaze. He was patient, waiting for it. If Deidara wanted to start a fight right here, Sai would retaliate with full force. In fact, he was almost challenging it.
’Hit me, if you dare.’
It just had to be Iwakura-sensei to deal the first blow. That way, when it came time to pay the real consequences, it would be easy to say he had done it in self defense.
Hmmm… Up-close, he could see some more of the male characteristics in that face of his. Deidara-san did have a stronger jaw-line than most women would, but it was easily hidden or softened up by that hair of his. Oh, this is what an androgynous person looked like then. If circumstances were different, he’d be tempted to draw it.
Circumstances were not different, however, and whatever stray thought he had about androgyny was put in the back of his head. So he was getting a detention, was he? It wasn’t as though he was going to start on his sculptures right away. He’d spend that time reading some art books, since apparently what he was doing so far was ‘wrong’ and he needed re-education.
He smoothed out his collar. Iwakura was not about to lose his job yet, it seemed. That was all for the best. He waited patiently for the teacher to take write the note, in the meantime gathering his supplies. At the last remark, Sai’s smile morphed into something quite cruel. He was amused. He had a lot of negativity in him, but he was glad for what he had done.
“Whatever you say, Deidara-chan.” He replied, a touch of pleasantness in his voice. He chuckled and gave a quick wave as he was exiting; leaving before the bell even rang or the other students packed up. The thought came upon him as he approached the door, opening it to step out, but not before parroting for the entire class to hear the cliché many stories and movies inserted.
“It’s a date.”
He disappeared into the hallways, leaving enough material behind for the gossip to ensue.
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Post by → victoria on Oct 20, 2010 1:09:19 GMT -8
In this one class period, Sai had managed to push all sorts of buttons. Not only had he insulted his art, but he'd boldly questioned his gender enough to sexually harass him. Deidara might not have had breasts to fondle, but the groping hands had unnerved him enough in spite of this. And that smile? Oh, he wanted so badly to smear it off his pallid face. When the boy had left his class, he'd merely stood at his desk and watched him leave with an unimpressed leer on his face. Sai had enjoyed that, hadn't he? He'd liked inciting a bad reaction out of him? At least he'd have detention later that day and Deidara wouldn't have to be anywhere near him for that. Detentions weren't his to supervise so, for the rest of the day and weekend, he would be Sai-free. This was definitely a good thing. It wouldn't do to encourage more murderous intent in the young teacher. So he exhaled a very deep, suppressed breath and sat down to carry on with his day. He could only hope their "date" wouldn't spread into an obnoxious rumor. Oh, but of course it would.
Time skip to the end of Monday.
How many times had Deidara been approached in the Teacher's Lounge concerning his interactions with Sai on Friday? Fuck it, he'd stopped caring after the third staff member had asked him about it. Even one of the Department Heads had inquired as to how the "date" was going to go. The blond's short fuse did not take kindly to such mocking, but he'd managed to get through the day without strangling a student, punching a colleague, or blowing shit up. All in all, that was actually a significant triumph for the moody artist. He just had to keep his cool when he was forced to supervise Sai's extra work. A part of him was already annoyed that he'd have to sacrifice his own free time for the ungrateful little bastard, but it'd be worth it. He hadn't been the only one who'd been vexed the other day. The difficult student may have been a hard one to get through to, but he'd portrayed enough slight, irritated reactions to draw satisfaction from Deidara. Forcing him to take on a bigger workload would be good for him. No skin off his own bones, really.
When classes had ended for the day, the TA had been in his office with a cup of tea. He'd been trying to avoid the lounge due to being fully aware that the other teachers would still harass him about all the stupid murmurs Sai had stirred up. The art room would be free now and he'd have to head there to meet the obnoxious teen very soon. But he also needed to find a way to keep himself from approaching this while so on edge. Sai had ruffled him so easily last time... It wouldn't do for a messy repeat, especially if he wasn't able to control himself. The room wouldn't be filled with students this time so there would be more of a temptation to harm Sai without worrying about witnesses. Nah, Deidara was cool... Oh, yes, very cool. He wasn't about to let this smug punk keep getting under his skin. Uncreative, unoriginal, poser artists didn't deserve to influence his moods so much.
He entered the classroom again and sighed. Sai hadn't arrived yet, apparently. Huh. Deidara wanted to get started on his own task for the next hour or so, however. He wasn't just going to sit there and watch the boy as he attempted to better his art, but occupy himself with his own creations. With his hands busy with clay, he wouldn't feel so tempted to use them for choking the kid if he ended up provoking him again. Art was Deidara's element; his passion. He had immersed himself into it so much that he felt he'd be willing to give anything to see it reach it's ultimate potential... whatever that might be. So he rolled up his sleeves and gathered the supplies he needed. Atop his own desk, the man assembled a little work station while muttering occasionally to himself. It wasn't long before he was already beginning to mold the slab of clay he'd brought there.
It was only ten minutes after classes had ended so, technically, there were five minutes more for Deidara to sit through before he could get reasonably annoyed at the boy for keeping him waiting. But when had he ever been particularly reasonable? "The brat better show up. I don't like having my time wasted, un." Even when a "date" wasn't a date at all, Deidara didn't enjoy being stood up.
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Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
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Post by Elena on Oct 20, 2010 20:35:15 GMT -8
Detention was a good place to study, but he’d rather have not had to go through it. He was lacking in sleep from trying to keep up with his projects. Sai liked to stay ahead of things, so when work piled up he pushed himself beyond what other student’s found necessary. With no guidelines to really follow, Sai was rather frustrated with trying to come up with ‘original’ and ‘creative’ ideas. That was purely subjective. Sai was only struck with ‘inspiration’ after some online tips at five in the morning. Throughout the day he was quieter, but when he did speak he was perhaps even more inappropriate than usual. It was one of those days that he didn’t really feel like being around people. Even Naruto and Sakura had been snubbed, as he avoided them just as he would any other person.
So, he took his time leaving his last period, arranging his supplies, and for a moment just took a breather, sitting outside his locker with his arms and head on his knees. This wasn’t odd for him. As he’s answered maybe a little more than twice today, he was ‘just fine’. Beyond fatigue, he was in top health. He just didn’t feel up to putting as much effort into his social interactions.
He did haul himself up eventually, knowing it was rude to let people wait for such a long duration of time. He walked toward the art-room and peered inside. “Ah.” He saw that Deidara had already started on whatever it was he wanted to do. “Good afternoon.” He greeted, and while there were other tables to work on, he chose to stand opposite on the one Deidara was working at. He lay down the newspaper and started to make a work station of his own.
He eyed the morphing clay the teacher was working at as he prepared his own, and while he could have opted to just silently work, Sai acted on impulse. “What are you making?” He asked. He knew that the TA probably didn’t want to talk to him, but Sai wasn’t particularly concerned about making this situation any easier on him.
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Post by → victoria on Oct 21, 2010 9:39:44 GMT -8
Left alone to tend to his craft, Deidara was actually less moody and more calm, cool, and at ease. This was where he thrived, after all; flourished like a bird in flight or a fish through water. His hands almost seemed to work of their own accord, shaping the clay in tender movements and squeezes. Where a scowl had seemed permanently etched into his face as of lately, there was now the return of his infamous smirk. Oh, he loved sculpting. It restored his composure and kept him contented enough to have his mind stray momentarily from Sai and his fake smile and stupid voice and delusional claims.... Nah, nah. When Deidara had clay in front of him, he was a happy man. To say he was good with his hands would be an understatement where this artist was concerned. Or so he coolly told himself on many an occasion.
Unfortunately, Sai would have to show up sooner or later. Well, that's what he'd wanted. Deidara did not enjoy having to spend extra hours on school grounds, after all. But, as long as he kept himself occupied, he figured he wouldn't be so easily annoyed with the time he had to spend with his annoying student. In a way, it was nice having the art room to himself for a few minutes so that he could savor this time alone between him and his beloved art. Such was like the feeling of forbidden lovers who were only granted small moments of privacy with one another. Deidara continued to smirk, however, even as he heard the door open. He didn't look up to regard the boy and merely continued to mold the clay into an avian shape with occasional "hmm"s and grunts as he considered things. He was still very cross with Sai's behavior the other day. There would be no pleasant greeting granted to him anytime soon.
The blond only chose to acknowledge Sai when he heard the rustle of newspaper. He'd stepped back a little with a cock of his head as he analyzed his own artwork for a moment, then moved back in to shape the body of the avian-esque shape he was developing. "I'm making whatever I feel like. Mm." He snorted, as though he found the question silly and unnecessary. One of his hands moved to briefly shift his long bangs aside to grant himself full vision of his ever-changing slab of clay before both palms were back at work to manipulate the medium to his favor. Deidara really didn't want to engage in smalltalk with Sai at all, but considered that this might be a good learning experience for the teen. Maybe he just needed to see a real master at work.
"Art comes to me in an instant. The vision is a sudden feeling that translates into the movements of my hands..." he explained coolly, making a point of this by grinning again as he began to mold a set of wings onto the creature he was sculpting. His nails, painted black (out of mere artistic whim, I assure you), helped carve some of the angles of the feathers as he leaned closer to pay attention to these finer details. His art set him alive; brought him back into a realm of confidence and mastery that shifted his frustrations aside. "Such a shame I can't detonate it," he muttered to himself, again removing his hands momentarily to have a better look at what he'd sculpted so far. Then, he glanced up at Sai. "What are you making for your first sculpture, hm?" He spoke this slowly, testing him, with a hand propped on his hip. Deidara wondered if there was anything the brat could do that would remedy his newly-formed grudge for him. Doubtful, but he could give him one more chance. Maybe.
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Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
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Post by Elena on Oct 22, 2010 15:56:26 GMT -8
So he didn’t get a response back. Well, Sai couldn’t say that he was too bothered by that. He cracked his fingers, stretching them as if preparing the ten little digits for an exercise, and then started to knead the clay. It had a comforting feeling, being able to work with his hands and concentrate on something, and while he associated that more with his paintings sculpting had a similar effect. He wished Deidara could dictate to him what to create. It would put him at ease, because then he could create without having to think. He was a tool, an obedient medium; he wanted to do what others told him because it was easier. Yet, as Deidara spoke, he found himself nodding along.
“Sort of what I do when I paint in abstract. There are no guidelines for it, you just draw in what looks and feels good in the moment.” The fun was trying to get people to try and understand the artwork. He’s had some curious, more forward people in his lifetime try and analyze his work. They would reason with colour symbolism, with identifying odd shapes with something else they’ve seen, but Sai never quite could understand it himself. It was why his works usually never had a title.
Though it was so contrary to his usual feelings, it was his favourite way to paint. It felt like he was channelling at least something within him, and that he could get it out in that way. He was good at realism because he had quite the ability to replicate what was already outside, and put it in something. He liked his abstract, freestyle painting because it was taking something secret and hidden from the inside and translating it out. Maybe in time he’d come to understand the secret, but for now it was his hidden pleasure.
He looked up to the winged thing, and one brow rose slightly. Why would he want to detonate it? “Have you ever considered getting help?” He asked, wondering if those were healthy thoughts to be thinking in society, all the time not considering the fact that most people would enlist him for psychiatric help too.
Regardless, he moved on, not really concerned about the mental health of his teacher. “It’s hard to be creative if you’re just making an animal. I looked at symbols and poses, but I think I would just end up doing the same dissatisfactory work as last time. So, I am bending the rules for my own amusement.” He explained as he started forming his figure delicately. “Even if it is not to your taste, I’m sure someone will like it. It’s a popular internet thing. I’m surprised I’ve never considered it before.”
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Post by → victoria on Oct 22, 2010 18:17:32 GMT -8
To be honest, this "supervising" session hadn't started off too badly. Sure, he hated the kid and every obnoxious word that fell from his lips, but he almost seemed tolerable when he was quiet and working. Occasionally, Deidara would glance over at Sai's clay, curious to see if he'd actually come to any realization through this assignment. His own fingers were pinching clay together to form the bird-thing's tail, which resembled that of a chicken. He barely even needed to pay close attention to how his hands worked. As critical as he was, Deidara actually worked completely at ease. To him, sculpting came as naturally as breathing. When he'd been in middle school, he'd joked with the other kids that he wished he had mouths on his hands to make it all even easier. If only, if only.
"Hm?" He paused in admiring the tail of his sculpture to look up at Sai again when he heard him explaining something. He spoke of abstract art... Mm. Even that word appealed to Deidara's own interests. He raised his eyebrow slowly, as though skeptical of how genuine Sai's opinion was. The boy may have been one of the most straightforward students he'd come across (he did feel him up, after all), but Deidara had reason to believe that there might be some sort of hidden agenda behind that fake smile and monotone voice. He'd seen the way the teen had grinned after humiliating him in front of his class. There was definitely something that lurked in there... He just couldn't pin down what it was yet. His visible eye even narrowed slightly, critically regarding the pale face of his student, before he cracked his neck to loosen up the tension that had built in his shoulders. Stress was just so... not his style.
"See, that's the kind of art I can appreciate. Abstract comes from emotion and creativity. But realism?" The blond scoffed, bending a little at the waist to gaze at his own clay while his fingers kneaded slowly at the other end of it to begin molding a head. "Realism is merely replication. Boring, bland..." Deidara could easily ramble for hours about his distaste of such draftsman techniques. Momentarily, his lip even curled a little to show of his dislike. For the most part, though, the TA didn't seem as disgruntled over the matter as he'd been earlier. Having his hands at work must have kept his tempestuous temper at bay. For now, anyway.
He tossed his head a little to flick some of his bangs from his face as his fingertips gently guided the clay into the shape of the creature's head, a smirk curving its way across his mouth steadily. He had heard that little remark about "needing help." Heh. It was something some of the students from University had told him when he'd proposed the idea of his masterpiece. They'd recommended him to the campus psychologist. What silly people... They'd been so lacking in artistic vision, just like everyone else at that place. "Help? For what? Being artistic?" He laughed, smirk still in place. "Most artists are considered madmen. It's just what happens when people fear true genius." His mood wasn't as disgruntled as it had been mere moments ago. Oh, this talk of his beloved art... It could always lift his spirits.
At the mention of the rules being bent, however, he looked at Sai with an expression that hadn't quite decided what it wanted to portray yet. Should he be annoyed? Impressed? Amused? Having never been fond of the rules, himself, he didn't mind the fact that the boy planned to bend them... but it also suggested he had no authority in the matter. Ah, and then he scowled a few moments later when listening to what Sai had to say. "This isn't about imitation! I don't want you to copy some picture or symbol." The man snorted and went back to his own work. "But I'm just here to supervise, un." Much as Deidara would have liked to keep quiet and ignore Sai, however, he found his eyes rerouting their stare to the teen's clay. "... So what is it?"
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Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
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Post by Elena on Oct 22, 2010 19:30:54 GMT -8
Sometimes, when people insulted things, they were jealous. He wondered if Deidara lacked the ability to do realism and therefore hated it? Yet, Sai couldn’t deny that what he was saying was true. For him at least, there wasn’t much artistic planning. There was a deep concentration, a focus on getting everything right, and a drive that was obsession when it came to perfection. It was work he could get lost into, but not for the same reason as his abstract paintings. Was it really mere replication?
He paused in his work, staring at the clay model. ‘Needs more curves.’ He thought to himself, adding to the sides of the hourglass figure and smoothing it out with his fingertips. If it was mere replication, why did he work so hard? Today he was too tired to try and delve deeper into himself. If he did, he’d worry that he’d show Deidara that he too could be considered in need of serious help. It was usually only in self defense. He was otherwise quite submissive.
Unfortunately, merely wanting the thoughts to go away didn’t work out so much. Before he could stop himself, he was thinking of other things. What was making him work so hard, anyways, when he knew that it would result in fatigue? What made him go to the library to read up on all these sociological aspects in life he just failed to get naturally? Wouldn’t it be easier to go back to how things were? To just do whatever was expected of him, no more, no less? Remain a tool, just like the carving knife in his hand that was, against his original intention, carving more jagged lines into the figure, giving it a sharper appearance.
“I suppose… Though, it is mostly a selfish reason but, I feel like when I can masterfully recreate it, I can capture it. I don’t understand what goes on in front of me. I don’t really belong in the moment. There are times I wonder… If being a spectator and drawing these aspects of life are the only way I can truly contribute to it.” It sounded vague to his own ears, and he spoke with more tiredness than he wanted to let on. He was getting tired of a lot of things, and one of them was just not ‘getting it’. Perhaps Deidara-san, for all his downfalls, was on to something.
He was certain of it, as he made another inspection. It was the figure of a woman, but jagged and prominent scales against her frame detracted any smoothness of a real woman. Her bottom half was thick, and the beginnings of shavings and more jagged lines suggested he was going to make her from the thigh down furry. Her arms and head were still missing. He had intended it to be a lot smoother, more like what he saw on the internet, but he could already see this would be a fearsome creature, not one you’d want to roll around in bed with.
“Ever heard of the Sphinx? I’m combining a woman with animals—three to be exact. That will be the theme of my statues. This one is a snake, a bird, and a bear.” He stretched her torso more as an afterthought, messing up the scales he was working on but not minding too much. It would take a lot more time until he would be finished. Probably two days when he’d take it home, and he’d want to paint it too. “I initially got the idea off the internet from something called Furries… “
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