|
Post by → victoria on Oct 23, 2010 2:59:09 GMT -8
Part of why Deidara was such a critical teacher was because he was such an egotist. In his perspective, his art was the absolute best. Every sculpture he made was perfect in his eyes; beautiful creations he had formed to suit his strange tastes and fondness for the abstract superflat style. He actually was capable of appreciating the work of others, he was just very selective of how he distributed his respect. Because he placed his own work on such a high pedestal, he had high expectations for everyone else. If someone could create something unique to their own style -- something strange, beautiful, and artistic -- then he would usually approve of it. When it came to the students of Konoha High, however, Deidara was just very unimpressed. An amusing thing was that Sai actually did show talent and skill. Everything he sculpted and painted was very well done... It just wasn't usually what appealed to the teacher's warped opinion on art. He liked things that were formed with passion, not through replication. Sure, he knew a teacher shouldn't be biased... but oh well. He didn't plan on making this his permanent career path anyway. Besides, kids had to learn rejection. Such was a part of life.
With his palms, he caressed his clay with the tenderness one might use with a lover. His eyes were downcast upon the progress he'd made so far, smiling fondly at it as his fingers smoothed over the half-made creature's back. It was already so lovely. Really, he amazed himself sometimes. Even when he decided to sculpt on a whim, he was delighted with the outcome. In fact, it had been a long, long time since he'd ever been too critical of his own work. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd looked at one of his clay creations in disapproval. They'd be even better if his university had encouraged his ideas to involve explosive material, but, alas, this would have to do for now. He rarely even used tools to shape his work. While he'd noticed Sai pick up the knife to carve in new details, Deidara had continued to knead, shape, and mold the clay with his hands. He considered himself a true master of his craft; a genius who needed only his dexterous fingers to form pieces of perfection. Still, he found himself glancing over at Sai's work. What was he up to, hm?
Deidara listened quietly to what he had to say, but he scoffed lightly once he'd finished. Every artist may have had different muses, but he was not one to feel particularly open-minded about a lot of it all. "Maybe you should take on photography, then. This sort of art lives and breathes. Realism in painting, sculpting... Tch. It's no better than a picture someone takes on their cellphone," he said with a roll of his eyes. As he did so, his hands helped pose his clay with the creature's head angled upwards, as though tossed back in a wild cry. "Life's too short anyway. Live it up while you can, un." He smirked again, as though he found this amusing. "I think I need to see some of your abstract work, Sai. Sounds like some of what I do." Except he knew his own creations were in a high league all their own. It was very kind of him to step in and teach his methods to people like Sai who, though skilled, lacked the proper vision. Really, he was doing them all a service. This school had come to him, asking that he take a job for the benefit of the art-deprived students. If he heard another smartass remark about being a talentless fraud, heads would roll.
He cocked his head to the side and, momentarily, observed what he'd sculpted so far. Perfect, as usual. But, instead of reaching in to proceed with the job, he walked around the table to where Sai was. He wanted to get a better look at the creature he was so intent on forming, secretly curious over what he'd mentioned about bending the rules and whatnot. So he stood and looked over his shoulder at the woman-beast that he was molding, quiet until responding to what the teen had said. "Ah, a sphinx. The creature of riddles. An interesting approach." Deidara smirked, vaguely amused, then stepped back a little and crossed his arms over his chest as he surveyed the sculpture's progress. "This is more like it. No reference shots, no models. And--... What? Furries?" It wasn't that Deidara was illiterate with technology, but he hadn't come across "furries" on the internet quite yet. From what he could tell, it didn't seem like something he'd want to stumble upon while casually browsing. Women and animals? Sounded more like bestiality. What sort of things was Sai looking at online? Deidara easily decided that he didn't want to know. "You can just keep your muse to yourself."
|
|
Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
|
Post by Elena on Oct 23, 2010 19:21:32 GMT -8
Sai did some photography here or there, but it was over with real soon. A click of a button or two and that was that. He didn’t like it so much. So when Deidara gave that suggestion he just stared at him blankly.
He was tired, really tired. His eyelids were drooping as he looked over his work, making everything blurry. Perhaps he should not have spent so much time looking up ideas for this… He finished all of his studying and work at three in the morning, and he could have used the extra two hours of sleep, but at least now he had a theme for his sculptures.
He was actually starting to zone out, working without really thinking about what he was doing. He knew this insufferable feeling; tiredness, where his limbs and lids felt heavy and his thoughts were easy to lose track of. He also started thinking out loud.
“People say I’m very curious, and I agree. The internet is good for uncovering what people like and don’t like. Apparently asking them in a normal conversation is inappropriate. You know the very popular cat girls? With the cat ears and the tail and the annoying ‘nao nao’ sounds they make?”
He yawned.
“Apparently… They could count as furries too. People can be so fascinating sometimes.”
Furries were just on another long list of ‘things Sai is not attracted to’ but the concept was good. When he saw the furries it reminded him of cat-girls, and then somehow the Sphinx, and then various other human-animal hybrids and voila; three animals in three statues—would it be four since there was a human part to it?
“Ouch.” He raised his hand, pausing in his work. Oh. The carving knife sort of carved into the skin. How did that happen? That was a lot of blood. He should probably stop it. Oh no, and it was on his sculpture and the newspaper too… It didn’t look too deep… It wasn’t even hurting that much anymore, but it might get on his uniform and that would be difficult to clean up…
|
|
|
Post by → victoria on Oct 24, 2010 4:12:44 GMT -8
Huh. Sai seemed really tired; borderline exhausted, even. Fatigue was rarely helpful to any artist, even Deidara knew this. In high school, he had spent many sleepless nights fixating on his artwork and had learned that tired hands actually resulted in lackluster work. What had Sai done to work himself so hard? Tch. Frankly, Deidara didn't give a damn about the teen's well-being. If he failed his classes, it wasn't of any consequence to him. In fact, he was a little amused over this observation. His eyebrow raised a little as he surveyed his student's tired face, taking note of the heavy eyes and the lagging movements. In a way, he found a sliver of satisfaction in this. He felt no regret in forcing this extra work on him, only justice. You messed with Deidara's art, his ego, his pride... and you got what was coming to you.
He snorted, bemused. "People aren't that fascinating... just perverted." Honestly, he didn't think people were very interesting. Though he enjoyed messing with them from time to time, he wasn't too keen on peeling apart the various layers of the human psyche. Deidara only concerned himself with the complexities of art. Psychology and sociology weren't exactly subjects he'd ever fussed over in his studies. "Furries" just sounded like some weird, animalistic fetish. It wasn't as though Deidara was a saint, mind you (particularly where strange attractions were concerned), but he took little interest in the subject Sai had brought to light. Cat girls...? Yeah, no. He'd pass on that.
It was when Sai's hand was cut that he rerouted his attention to the boy and his work. He'd been about to wander back over to his side of the table right before it'd happened and paused in the midst of his first step to the side. The TA groaned and rolled his eyes. Now he'd have to clean up after all the bleeding. Fantastic. "Ugh. You're making a mess." Deidara moved off to the side to swipe a few paper towels from one of the sinks, handing them to Sai to press along the cut. "What happened to your dexterity, hm? And the nurse probably left already... Tch. There's a First-Aid kit in the desk's bottom drawer." The blond explained this casually (apart from the obvious irritation), as though he was quite accustomed to injuries in the art studio. Really, he just didn't feel like cleaning up too much and he didn't want it to get on his own sculpture not too far away. He had never been fond of coloring his work.
Upon collecting a few more paper towels, Deidara cleaned blood off some of the tabletop with a grunt. How troublesome. Had Sai really been so exhausted as to misdirect the knife into his own skin? Either that, or he'd lost his focus in the stirring images of daydreams or a short attention span... But Sai didn't seem like he did that very often. The blond artist managed to clear away most of the blood that had fallen elsewhere besides the newspaper and sculpture, though he certainly didn't seem too impressed at all. He'd only been here to supervise, not babysit. Oh well. He supposed that all his encounters with Sai were destined to be frustrating as hell. "Get cleaned up or something. What happened, there? Are you daydreaming already, un?"
|
|
Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
|
Post by Elena on Oct 24, 2010 19:56:46 GMT -8
He was planning to paint his statue over anyways, so the blood stains on it weren’t anything to be concerned about. He did feel a bit frustrated with himself that he’d caused such a mess. He bowed his head as he held the wound. “My apologies, I was reckless.” There wasn’t much pain, but he didn’t know if that was good or not. He hadn’t gone too deep; it was just not an ideal area to nick. The injured boy opened the drawer Deidara explained, and found the first aid kit. Ah, this was a little tricky…
He glanced over to his teacher as he started to clean up, and nearly snapped at him until he remembered his composure. It wasn’t right that he should clean up what was Sai’s fault. No matter what, Deidara-san was still his superior, and this was all getting a little out of hand.
Ah, that was a pun. The blood was getting out of his hand, which was causing the situation, and so there was the relation.
He shook his head. He was getting distracted. “Please leave it. I’ll clean up after myself. Just once I…” He trailed off as he disinfected the cut, wincing just a little when the alcohol met the wound. He placed some cotton directly over it to buffer any blood still flowing and wrapped the gauze around with dexterity that would have been useful moments ago.
“I’m sorry. I just pushed myself to the limit last night needlessly. It won’t happen again.” Daydreaming was something like it, he supposed. He inspected his handiwork. It was fine, no more mess. He threw out the blood-soaked paper towels and walked to the supply closet for a sponge. He cleaned up the mess that got onto the floor, until the only evidence was his newspaper and statue.
He glanced at Deidara as he got up off his knees glanced at his teacher. As was usual with him, the first thought that came to his mind just as quickly left his mouth. “I wonder if blood stains flaxen hair?” He approached, but merely walked past him to wash up the sponge. He did everything one handed, of course, given he didn’t want to ruin his makeshift bandage.
With everything more or less clean, there was just his work station to tidy up. He bowed. “I won’t take up your time any longer. I can take some of the clay home and work there.”
|
|
|
Post by → victoria on Oct 25, 2010 10:19:50 GMT -8
Yeah, Deidara wasn't too impressed with the situation. He hadn't taken Sai for a fumbling sculptor, even if he'd taken him for an idiot and a nuisance. Egotistical as he was, the TA was capable of recognizing skill in others even when it disagreed with his own style of thought and art. He hadn't predicted Sai might actually hurt himself over this. And now there was blood in his art room. Lovely. He simply continued wiping it off the table, not bothering with the floor yet. Much as he didn't enjoy cleaning up after a clumsy student, he didn't want to let the blood settle enough to stain anything. Though that'd make for an amusing story, wouldn't it? When kids looked down at the stain, they'd ask where it had come from. It could be answered, "One of Deidara-san's students... He made fun of his art once and... this happened." Much as that wouldn't do wonders for his reputation with the school board, it would have been useful for a satisfying laugh or two.
He didn't really pay attention to Sai's objections. He proceeded to wipe the table clean, expression vapid with indifference over the matter. He only spoke when he heard his vague explanation. "Needlessly indeed, un. Did you pull an all-nighter? Well... That's high school for you." Deidara smirked a little. He still didn't feel bad for loading more work on the pale teen. He felt his act had been perfectly justified and, even if it hadn't been, he rarely ever regretted much of anything he did. He was not a man who felt sympathy very often and this was no exception. In a way, he was just curious as to why Sai had pushed himself so hard. Had the other teachers been merciless with their assignments? Deidara didn't really pay attention to a lot of the other lesson plans. Maybe he'd ask around the lounge to find out if there'd been a big project or essay due. Tch. Why should he even care? It wasn't his problem nor his business. In his opinion, Sai deserved a little pain for how he'd behaved in class.
After throwing out the paper towels he'd used to clean away some of the blood, he'd leaned his back against the edge of the table and watched Sai finish with clearing up the floor. The boy's question certainly seemed like a random one and Deidara was quiet for a moment as he considered it. Sai definitely had a talent for speaking his mind, particularly when it was very blunt or seemingly off the top of his head. The artist's scowl returned and he flicked his long, overhanging bangs with his fingers. "Blood stains everything. I got some in my hair, didn't I? Fantastic." He tried to see for himself, glancing to some of the hair he raked through his fingers. Yeah, that was pointless. He'd need to check a mirror before he left. His pale hair was easy to stain and it wouldn't do to walk around amongst the crowds with blood flecked through it.
Deidara groaned and glared at Sai for a moment. Maybe he was still mocking him somehow. That monotone voice and those fake expressions... Ugh, he could never quite tell what was genuine and what wasn't. Cutting one's self was a drastic measure to annoy someone, but the blond wouldn't have put it past him. Despite his constant suspicions, however, he had noticed that Sai did seem legitimately exhausted. Vaguely mulling this over, he walked over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room; usually used for students of a separate art class to study body language and expression. He made an unimpressed "hmph [/color]" when he spotted the spots of blood strewn throughout some of the flaxen strands of hair, though didn't seem as enraged as could have been figured of him. In a way, he too was tired. The idea of sending Sai home was more appealing than chewing him out for making a mess. " That's one of the best ideas I've heard from you." He turned to face him, arms crossed. " It's not like you can be very productive with your hand like that, anyway. That's why an artist should be careful. His hands are his most important tools." He walked over to him, reaching for his wrist so he could eye his bandage. Shoddy work. He could have helped him, he supposed, but that was stupid. Deidara was not a sensitive man who coddled or cared for his students. This should have been made obvious by now. He angled his hand towards his visible eye a bit better, as though to get a better look at it, but merely grunted and released it so he could move back to where his own sculpture remained on the table, running his palm slowly along its back as one might with a pet cat for comfort. " You'll have to come back tomorrow, you know. I managed to kick out some stupid freshman art club for the time slot, so you better be there." Because Deidara didn't like going out of his way for anyone besides himself. It would not do to have it go to waste.[/size][/blockquote]
|
|
Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
|
Post by Elena on Oct 26, 2010 18:55:39 GMT -8
The contact was not unwelcome. Sai knew what he was going to do, and just stared blankly on as the teacher examined his shoddy job. As a fellow artist, Deidara was right, his hands were very important. It’s why his were smoother, softer than most males’ were, and if you could label them such, they’d be androgynous. He was particular about not getting his hands dirty. Part of his usual attire outside of school and even sometimes in it when he managed to sneak them on, were a pair of thin, black gloves with only the tip if his index and thumb exposed, to be able to keep a grip on his tool be it pencil, pen, or brush. The rest were almost always hidden away, to keep from smudging or dirtying his paper whenever he touched his piece or angled his hand. The long, gangly fingers were just a combination of genetics and constant movement and stretching throughout the years.
He mulled over Deidara’s words as he packed up, wrapping his project delicately between fresh rolls of newspaper and some old dry-but-bloodied ones, letting the thing rest between his chest and his binders angled out and toward him. As he left, he stopped at the door, his face turned back.
“If an artist’s tool is his hands, and a man’s tool is his dick, does that make us partial to handjobs?”
Apparently it was rhetorical, as he left without waiting for an answer, leaving one blushing freshman to peer into the classroom from her stance in the hallway, before quickly scurrying away.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
So, Sai would spend the last two days of the first week and the rest of the next after school in the artroom. Once the weekend hit he was a lot more awake and more willing to conform to convention and social activities; all he needed was to spend three days with non-stop work and suddenly he was not only well ahead everyone else in his classes, but also had an incredible amount of spare time inside and outside class. He got to finish homework assigned the day of, sometimes even the period of, and outside study was hardly necessary. Whatever Sai lost in common sense and social skills he seemed to gain in work efficiency.
He still wasn’t doing so well in literature class though. Still, he completed everything to the guidelines so it was all fine. What he was starting to get, though, was Deidara’s stiff approval. He was starting to understand some of what he was saying. Workmanship, as per example of their teacher’s sculpting and paintings, were hardly a factor, but it was the apparent feelings and creativity of the piece that he regarded. So long as Sai did not completely follow guidelines, did not use references (or, not directly) and could explain how his current mood was reflective in his piece—
“Actually, I think the rigidness of these shapes are because I’m feeling tense. I’ve never had a man brush against my back like you do when you stand behind me.
--he could do well, but he still managed to see-saw between the man’s approval and outrage. Funny, but Sai was actually starting to like this arrangement. He got to learn to push himself, grasp concepts a week ago he was shaky with, and take his first real steps with the challenge of letting his feelings completely dominate his art. He didn’t hold respect for the super-flat style of Deidara (and he dared imply that he,
Sai, was the better artist) but he did regard Deidara with increasing familiarity and in a few scattered moments, respect. He also got to be amused (and sometimes confused) about reactions. At times he was genuinely innocent in what he said, but Sai’s lack of proper emotes paved the way for overactive imaginations to go down a perverse road.
Sometimes, he was fully aware of what he did, and the increasing audience in their art class did not deter him in the slightest.
The infamous “confession” was innocent, or was it?
“I like you, Deidara.”
People were now wondering if Naruto was jealous that another ‘blond’ (and a teacher at that) was taking his place, but Sai remained rather ignorant of the rumours surrounding him. He came into class the next day, not at all suspecting of the trouble he may have caused his teacher.
He managed to arrive earlier, for once, and was getting started on finishing up his second statue. This one was a man, with the bottom half of an eel, torso of a man, front legs of a tiger, and the head of peacock. It was Wednesday and with all the details set in, it was a matter of painting them in. Though it didn’t show on his face, he was in a rather pleasant mood. Only one more statue to go, and he’d have completed this punishment, which had started to turn into a past-time.
|
|
|
Post by → victoria on Oct 27, 2010 12:04:27 GMT -8
Sai's departing statement had been blunt and inappropriate as always. The blond had watched him leave with something of a vapid, unimpressed expression. Leave it to that kid to turn his wise, artistic philosophies into perverted observations. But, the truth was, Deidara was actually amused. Though Sai had left the room, the TA's scowling mouth curved into a sly little smirk and he kneaded a bit at his sculpture's own clay for a few moments as he muttered coolly to himself. "Well... We artists are very good with our hands. Very." Strict as the man was over his art classes, he was not as stuffy as some of the students had begun to suspect. He was no saint, after all, and his hands were very dexterous with whatever task they were put to. Sai's crude statement may have distorted the point he had been trying to get across, but it was true nonetheless...
The rest of the Teaching Assistant's week had consisted of managing lesson plans for his seniors, scolding his own classes all the more, and dodging the gossip that had woven itself through the school. He was very much aware that the classes he'd been assigned had actually doubled in size as the week progressed. At first, he'd been smug and delighted. Had this meant that the word of his awe-inspiring methods had actually spread and excited these dull teenagers? Oh, he would have liked to think so... but it didn't take long for him to realize that this wasn't the case. In fact, these new students didn't provide any talent whatsoever! They produced lazy, lackluster work that had him seething all the more, especially since it seemed they didn't even care about what he was trying to teach them. It was when he'd sneered at Sai for pointing out how close he pressed against his back that he noticed how intent the other students were on the matter. So... So they were here to watch them squabble? The realization had certainly displeased Deidara, much as it hadn't necessarily surprised him too much.
Because of his frustration over the matter, he'd tried to address it with the principal and other "higher-ups" on the staff. He'd wanted to propose a test that students could take to prove that they were actually interested in the subject. Of course, though, he was not a full-fledged teacher and, as such, his requests were denied. Even when he'd spoken with the head of department, it had been to fruitless results. Some of the teachers even said they might drop in to see what all the fuss was about. He'd become quite the celebrity of Konoha High, and not in the ways he might have enjoyed in different circumstances. So he was forced to begrudgingly accommodate the tactless teens who had joined his class merely for the soap opera dramatics. It made his work tedious and frustrating but, to be honest, it hadn't changed too much of what he was already used to. Sai's little "confession," however, only added more fuel to the fire.
It was funny, really. Whenever the artist caught himself actually approving of Sai's work or observations, he usually found more reason to loathe him again within five minutes. Admittedly, the pale boy had shown improvement over his workload. Deidara had even caught himself grinning a little when he'd been supervising the creation of his sculptures, pleased with something creative he'd actually said. But whenever he felt there was hope for him, he'd hear Sai mention something that would jostle his nerves and toss him into one of his hot-tempered mood swings again. The temptation to strangle him was always hanging over his mind like a sneaky, sultry voice in the back of his head. Hide his body in the cafeteria freezer. No one would notice a thing.
Throughout the length of the day, Deidara had been subject to much interrogation. A few faculty members had caught him when he'd been trying to sneak some coffee to his office, skeptical over his student's expression of affections. Most of them, though, were aware of Sai's... unique mannerisms and didn't think much of it. They just teased the artist for his reactions, chuckling and advising him to keep his little "affair" much more quiet. The teacher's lounge had become just as much a place to avoid as the student-crammed hallways. By the time the day ended, Deidara was in a very foul mood. Nothing new as of late, but annoying nonetheless. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop of the desk in his small office, waiting until he'd he have to head to the art room again. Sai had some explaining to do, not that Deidara expected much sense to come of it. When had Sai ever made sense to him? He may have thrived in what was creative and abstract, but the disgruntled blond did not rejoice in this where his frustrating student was concerned.
The bell rang and he navigated through hallways at a brisk pace. He was eager to avoid more talk and the amused glances of the gossiping crowds. He actually slammed the door behind him when he entered the art room and pulled the blinds down over the window in the hopes of discouraging curious eyes. But then he heard, "He must want privacy... Do you think he'll push him against one of the tables and--?" and wanted to punch something. He'd stopped listening as soon as he'd heard what the whispers suggested to one another, just rolling his eyes and running a hand over his face. Fucking kids. If he didn't need the money so badly, he would have gladly beaten the shit out of them. The last thing he wanted were more of his "colleagues" prodding into his business over all this nonsense.
It took a moment for him to realize that Sai was actually in the room already. He turned to face him, fists clenching as he scowled at him and walked over to actually step fairly close and glare him in the eye. "I've had to deal with a lot of bullshit today, thanks to you. Are you happy? Hm?" He was tempted to give him a shove in the chest, but didn't want to give Sai any reason to notify anyone of "unnecessary contact." He was still very much aware of the boy's cunning, though it only seemed to emerge on rare occasions. Deidara huffed in discontent and moved to the opposite side of the table. Already, he was sick of sharing this space with him. Even looking at him had the nasty habit of causing his gut to squirm with suppressed rage. "Just finish your sculpture. I don't want to hear a word out of you. Not a single one."
|
|
Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
|
Post by Elena on Oct 28, 2010 17:21:36 GMT -8
Their moods could not have been more polar. Here, Sai was actually looking forward to see the TA, but the moment Deidara stepped in he made a show of stomping around and pulling down the blinds. Sai just watched in silence, his brush still against his statue, as the frustrated man did what he did. Sai was not surprised when the teacher rounded on him, stepping in close that any other person would have been intimidated and uncomfortable, and nearly spat at him in anger. Oh dear, he had caused some trouble. Perhaps his amusement had gone into the realms of cruelty. “I’m sorry.”
He resumed what he was doing, conflicted between the request for silence and what to do to make up for what Deidara was put through. The brush moved against the hard surface, but he couldn’t bring himself to concentrate when there was a problem right across from him, and his brain started to throw random book facts at him, telling him to solve it. He wished people, and especially he, could only feel singular feelings at a time. It was a lot easier to make expressions and find them when that was the case. He felt amused, and he wanted to egg Deidara even further, perhaps to the point of a confrontation that was worthy of gossip. Then again, he felt like he wanted to be approved and liked by this man. It made it difficult to concentrate.
The brush was placed into a glass filled with murky water, practically disappearing into it, and he sighed, taking off his black gloves and put them beside the half-painted statue. He leaned into the table, his elbows resting against an area without newspaper or mess, and stared at the blond man across from him. After a moment’s pause, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
|
|
|
Post by → victoria on Oct 28, 2010 20:48:00 GMT -8
"I'm sorry" was what Sai had to say for himself. Deidara snorted. He didn't take the apology very seriously. He figured Sai had only said it in the hopes to please, since he seemed just as keen on appealing to his teachers as he was on confusing the hell out of them. Well, the TA wasn't going to sit here and listen to more bullshit. It was during days like these that he wished he could completely disregard his employment and stuff explosives in lockers, backpacks, desks, toilets... the works. Whenever extremely annoyed, his thoughts would usually turn to his artwork and the bitterness that still festered inside him. Though his clay sculptures were beautiful, they hadn't reached their potential; the status of flawless masterpiece. Why? Because explosives were ""dangerous." How silly. No one in this world seemed to share his vision and, because of this, he was forced to earn his keep by working with brats like Sai, whom he very much wanted to strangle right now.
Deep down, the artist didn't know why he was getting so stupidly worked up. He didn't have much of a conscience and, in the rare moments it would pry at his psyche, he tended to ignore it. But, sometimes, he'd actually realize that he was losing his cool over ridiculous little things. Unfortunately, this didn't happen very often and, when it did, it usually didn't make much of a difference. Like right now, where he just shrugged it aside. As far as he was concerned, his anger was perfectly justified. He was now being teased by students and staff alike which was not acceptable. The immature side of him wanted to get back at Sai tenfold... but how to do so? The boy was nearly impossible to phase. Oh well. For now, Deidara would just let his mind draw images that included rigging Sai with explosives. Maybe - just maybe - he could cope with having him in the same room.
It was as he was imagining these colorful fantasies that he heard that voice interrupt them. For a very brief sliver of a second, he'd almost forgotten Sai was in the room. Tch. Even Deidara wasn't that delusional. His visible eye narrowed again and glanced back to his student, lips still forming their unimpressed scowl. Already, he felt himself bristling and his shoulders tensing as he kept his impulses at bay. This brat made it seem as though they were friends who had merely stumbled into a disagreement! "No, Sai. I do not want to talk about it." He sneered at him before moving away from the table to gather his own supplies. Since he was forced to withstand Sai's presence, he was going to vent his stress through his artwork yet again. He was going to forget about the rumors, the frustration, and the boy across from him. Fuck, that was wishful thinking.
For a few minutes, Deidara prepared the clay a little more violently than was probably necessary. He slammed his fists down into the slab and kneaded at it with rough fingers. He didn't care if Sai spoke up to correct or criticize him. At the moment, he was decidedly deaf to everything besides his own thoughts. It wasn't until the clay was properly "tenderized" that the blond finally spoke again, and in a low, unimpressed tone of voice. "You can't just declare to the whole class that you like me. Now the whole school is talking about it and I can't even get a cup of coffee without having to explain myself. " He looked up from the clay he had begun to shape into a dragon-like creature with his blue, slanted eyes and curled his lip a little in frustration. "It pisses me off, un."
|
|
Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
|
Post by Elena on Oct 29, 2010 18:13:47 GMT -8
Sai watched him as he worked, knowing well what he was doing. Pulverising the clay, digging his fingers into it and forcing it to become the shape he wanted it to be; this was venting. The student body was getting to him, then? They took what he said about liking Deidara-san in a very different direction than he intended, but he was not angry over the insinuations. Sai was never angry about his role in rumours. It was always the other person involved that got outraged, and in this case there was no exception. Sai was the one calmly assessing the situation and Deidara was the one pissed off about the whole thing. It was his reaction that was amusing, and it was not just for him but for everyone. Sai decided it was high time he imparted some of his wisdom to the teacher.
He chuckled, a sound he didn’t make often but every now and again he did find something that his warped sense of humour latched onto. “Is that what they are occupying themselves with? Relationship between men seems to be a theme lately.” He drawled, recalling Naruto’s horror at the latest scandal surrounding him. He smiled at the memory.
“I can see why they choose to bother you about it, though.” He looked over the artist’s profile, as if the answer was written all over him. “You make it so much fun. Your reactions and temper are amusing, but I cannot understand why you are so defensive. It’s fascinating.” If there was anything Sai learned, that with certain people flattery was everything, but Sai didn’t feel inclined to lie. No, these were mere observations with a little bit of ‘sugar-coating’ on top.
“You’ve got a very domineering personality; you’re obviously not a follower. You have a vision and have infallible confidence in it and yourself. Those traits are rather enviable.” For Sai, it was the envy of having such assurance in everything he did. Sai did not have that; he had to be led by instruction a majority of the time unless his loyalty led him otherwise. “I’ve heard that those who are up high always want to be knocked down by those below. Even I take joy in seeing you lose your composure.”
He pushed himself away from the desk, walking around to stand by his side, facing him and leaning against the table casually. “You don’t have to explain anything. If you don’t act bothered; if such assumptions really are beneath you, then why indulge their pleasure?” He watched him for a moment. He should do something nice for his sensei. He was in a friendly mood, and he wanted to be of use.
The pale boy moved behind him. The blinds were low so no one would be around to ‘analyze’ this in their own ways. “You’re tense.” His hands moved to his shoulders, massaging them. He smiled his usual smile, feeling perfectly fine with what he was doing. “This should help you relax.”
|
|
|
Post by → victoria on Nov 1, 2010 14:39:26 GMT -8
Sai's amused chuckle did not help Deidara's mood. As soon as the sound was uttered from the boy's mouth, he fixed him with a warning glare. If the kid thought he could be a smartass about all this then he had another thing coming. At this point, he didn't care if he gained a reputation for being a hot-tempered firecracker. He'd already been called out on it a few times in the teacher's lounge and he didn't find himself fretting over evading it with the students, either... particularly the most frustrating of them all. The tone of Sai's voice did not appeal to Deidara (he would have preferred something much more pathetic and imploring), but he simply busied his hands with shaping his clay. All of this felt so condescending. It almost seemed as though Sai was looking down at him; the student actually taking the role of "master" to secure comprehension over the matter. The blond simply sneered. "I don't care about those rumors," he hissed, outlined eyes still fixed on him. Being called gay was the least of his worries (it was the truth, after all). "It's the fact that relationships between teachers and students usually result in the teacher being kicked rudely to the curb. I don't want anyone breathing down my neck over all this bullshit." Suspected child molesters were usually frowned upon, even in the art community.
He didn't much care about what other rumors were being circulated through the school's whisper system. All the drama that transpired between these brats were of no concern to him and they never would be. In fact, he usually found himself laughing at all the spats that occurred in the hallways. Catfights were particularly amusing. It was when Sai was analyzing him that the TA looked up from his clay again, having focused a pointless glare onto it when his thoughts had flickered briefly off-course. He grunted, deciding not to give him the satisfaction of any further reaction, "humorous" as they were said to be. His fingers were a bit rough again as they kneaded and molded the clay while he did what he could to keep all his angry impulses at bay. He was no longer interested in explaining himself or his frustrations. He just had to withstand this final extra session with him and then he'd be able to go about pretending Sai had never managed to get under his skin in the first place. But, then, he actually heard different words slip from his student's mouth. Was that... Was that flattery?
It was safe to say that Deidara was successfully surprised. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at him, clearly a bit suspicious. Strangely enough, though, Sai's observations sounded genuine. The blond was the type of man that enjoyed having his ego stroked a little, so this certainly wasn't... unwelcome. It just seemed random of him. As an artist, Deidara loved being the subject of praise and good conversation; thriving off the satisfaction of fascinating people with his creative way of thought. He managed to stand a little straighter, loosening some of the tight, coiling muscles that had bunched up between his shoulder blades. It almost seemed as though Sai was legitimately trying to cheer him up. Again, he was skeptical and wary, but not enough to reject most of what he was saying. His eyes were still narrowed somewhat, however. "Tch. I'm not about to let brats get off the hook if they insult me. They have to be put in their place. You should know that by now." He'd directed enough rage at Sai to get that point across, he'd imagined. If not, he was sure there would be plenty more opportunities in the future. How riveting. "I don't get angry that often, anyway. I'm all about keeping things cool..." He'd never been any good at picking out his own flaws.
Despite the slight sense of relaxation that had only just attempted to find its way back to him, the TA tensed up again when he noticed Sai's approach. This was only momentary, though. He wasn't scared of Sai, nor was he intimidated or unnerved. He figured it had become a habit of his body's to tense whenever the student loomed close. Perhaps it was in the hopes of deterring further groping. Whatever the case, he just leered at him for a moment before he realized what he seemed to be up to. Huh. A massage? At first, Deidara scowled and turned to swat his hands away. "Did I say you could touch me?" The livid gleam in his eyes didn't last long, however. He was quiet as he glared at Sai's pale face, trying to decide if he was going to continue antagonizing him or not. Then, after what seemed to be two minutes or so, Deidara turned around again with his back facing him, head bowed a little as he grumbled. "A little to the left, un."
|
|
Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
|
Post by Elena on Nov 3, 2010 13:24:58 GMT -8
Sai hadn't even considered that--how thoughtless of him. Actually that was a lie, he had, but it was all in good fun really. He wasn't so sure how it would extend to the teacher's aid but it appeared any professional staff in the school with relations to students were subject to punishment. Threatening Deidara-san with this little ace could prove useful sometime in the future if he ever really pushed Sai's buttons, but now that Sai liked him he wouldn't use it against him and get him fired. Still, one could never have too much advantage over another, now could they? He hadn't meant any harm by saying he liked him, and really he didn't seem to think that the school took him seriously in this regard.
Sai waited, his hands knocked away and hostility making him pause. He stared back blankly, unperturbed, knowing he had crossed a boundary and waited for the verdict. Instead of being turned away, the art teacher seemed contemplative, and then issued an order. Oh yes, Sai forgot his place. He should wait for a command from the person of authority, in this case Deidara, before moving forward. Though it seemed like the man had always tried to teach him the opposite with artwork, the same rules seemed to apply in everyday relations. He muttered a small apology and stepped forward again, kneading the muscles again and moving over toward the left as was requested.
"Is this to your liking?" He asked. His experiences with massages were from Danzou, who would request some for his aching joints. In comparison, this was a lot easier and much more preferred. There was a definite difference between the body of someone young and fit verses someone old and crooked. The coils in his muscles were coming undone a lot easier. As his hands worked his mind wandered to some of the issues brought up. Whereas a week ago he may not have minded Deidara being kicked to the curb, now it would have been a shame.
"Did you tell them it was me?" Every once and awhile when a teacher would complain about him, he'd hear them mutter, 'It's Sai.' and like a secret code, they would all sigh and nod their heads. He never really quite caught on what it meant, but this code seemed to work. "Just say it with varying degrees of emphasis and all will be well." It seemed as simple as that to the young man.
As an after thought, he added with a smile, "I could always lie and tell people that you repulse me, or something unattractive like that. Or that I secretly want to kill you and this is all just a cover-up. Oh--we could be sworn enemies in the art community, and belong to opposite sides of an art mafia, and therefore this would be a hoplessly tragic romance were it to transpire."
|
|
|
Post by → victoria on Nov 8, 2010 12:20:28 GMT -8
The fact that Deidara was an aid did not help in this tangle of questionable morals. In fact, he'd been told in emphasis upon being hired that they had higher expectations of him to behave. His security in the outside world still hung in the balance and a black mark on his record so early in his career? No, it would not do wonders for any future he might have been considering. The art community might have been very open-minded and welcoming of the strange, but child molesters were not well-received by any group of creative thinking. Or logical thinking, for that matter. Really, pedophiles and sexual deviants didn't have much of a loyal fanbase supporting their work (except for obsessive, psychotic fanbases that Deidara would prefer to steer clear of). Any solid suspicion of ilicit activity with a student would have his resume tainted forevermore... and he really didn't want that. He pursed his lips even considering the thought. If Sai ever got him trouble... Oh, there would be hell to pay. Loud, explosive, angry hell.
He thought he was being rather kind, however, to allow Sai such close contact. The boy should have been grateful for his cooperation. Truth be told, Sai actually gave decent back rubs. Maybe even more than decent. His hands were those of an artist and the blond could easily appreciate that; such dexterous, able fingers kneading and rubbing at the tight knots in his muscles and earning a slight, soft hum of approval. Deidara shifted his weight a little from one leg to the other as he felt his body actually begin to relax beneath the simple administrations of the youth's firm touch. His breathing leveled and his eyes even closed momentarily while a sigh escaped the small part in his lips. Hey, a guy could get used to this. He had to remind himself every minute or so that Sai was a frustrating little bitch that had caused his muscles to tense like this, but he supposed he could pretend he wasn't so obnoxious for a few moments. Maybe.
"S'good. Un," he grunted, feeling no need to stroke Sai's ego with elaborating on his approval. It'd been a while since he'd been touched, actually. Deidara may have been no stranger to close contact (particularly intimate contact), but he was also a man who immersed himself in his one, true passion before anyone else. Art was his love. It deserved his focus first and foremost. Though, yes, it was Sai who was tending to his back and not someone more... appropriate... he uttered no complaints. He rolled his shoulders after a moment, unable to help the mutter of, "A little lower," as he opened his eyes again and stared down at his clay. He was pleased with himself that he'd drawn the blinds, at least. The TA didn't want any fuel added to the fire.
The young teacher couldn't help but snort a little with Sai's suggestions. Okay, so maybe he could be bearable when he was rubbing his back and talking about things that didn't include petty insults aimed toward his masculinity and art. There was even a bit of a bemused smirk curving one end of the artist's mouth as he answered. "Trust me, I told them. I think that's the only reason an investigation hasn't been put underway." He flicked some of his long bangs out of his face, though they just fell back over his eye, as usual. The next array of the pale teen's thoughts actually made Deidara chuckle. If rumors weren't so dangerous to his job, he would have found entertainment in encouraging a few. The tragic romance was even reminiscent of Romeo and Juliet, which made him shake his head with a laugh. "Sounds so Shakespearean when you put it that way," he remarked, curving his back a little to encourage his hands while lightly flexing the loosened coils.
"How about you just don't say anything, hm? You already do enough damage when you talk about anything to do with... us." Putting it like "us" made it actually seem like they were lovers caught in a forbidden affair. Deidara made a note to refrain from using that pronoun from now on. He cleared his throat and turned his head a little to look at him with one of his blue, outlined eyes, as though considering something. "You should get back to work. I'm still holding you to your deadline." Because he was in danger of actually growing fond of Sai's presence if he kept massaging his back so well. It just didn't seem like a healthy habit.
|
|
Elena
Patrician
Sai is purple. What else do you want me to say?
Posts: 71
|
Post by Elena on Nov 13, 2010 14:59:57 GMT -8
His teacher was relaxing, and for the first time Sai received praise when he didn't have to ask for his opinion, or under any obligation really. His mission was a success; the hostility he was met with when the man stepped through the door had dissipated under his skillful hands. He followed the spoken request and moved his hands lower down the slope, straining his fingers against the muscles there and once again reflecting on the differences of a younger body. By now his fingers would be sore, and thankfully Danzo didn't ask for a massage often (the man could be quite guarded), but when he did he'd end up having to massage his own hands back to life. The lean figure in front of him suggested that Deidara probably did engage in some activity; he just wasn't sure what. Actually Sai couldn't picture him doing anything except artwork. Sai himself didn't do much outside of gym, though he did run a lot of errands so perhaps that was physical enough? It certainly was no sport.
It seemed, as Sai listened in silence, that Deidara-san knew the secret code too. Really, he was going to get in trouble if just after one year he had built up that sort of reputation. His thoughts were distracted by the mention of Shakespeare. “Romeo and Juliet.” He added without a pause. That was the particular work he was thinking of. “Yes, I'm afraid I can't be too original with my drama.” He recalled one teacher jokingly mentioning that whoever made anything along the lines of Romeo and Juliet could not be very original. Sai found that with the number of works inspired or similar to it, that was quite true.
The 'us', though laced with an awkward tone, went unnoticed. Did he have a cough? Sai hoped he wouldn't catch whatever he had... Though he could have gone on until his hands protested, the unspoken request to stop did not go unnoticed, and his hands, moving back to the shoulders for one last knead, stilled.
He did not, however, remove them.
Sai stared, rather intently, at the back of his head, but he was not looking at him exactly. Something rather tempting was before him. It was what he was taught. In a way, it was who he was. The benefits were great; the variables pointed in his favour. There was only one thing that really kept him in check.
He leaned forward, his mouth by Iwakura's ear.
“You know, you're lucky that I do like you.” He spoke lowly. “Normally I'd take this little... misunderstanding and use it as blackmail. I hope you come to appreciate that, Iwakura-sensei.”
He removed himself, and glanced over at his work. A painting job wasn't difficult, in fact he was practically done. No need to hang around here. “I will continue at home later. I do have things to do.” His job, for one thing. He'd like to have some time to rest before needing to do some 'dress up'. “I think that tomorrow I will be finished this little project. Won't you be glad?” He smiled. It meant another night of late-working, but if he finished some of the rough sculpting tonight he could very well finish the detail work and painting tomorrow.
|
|
|
Post by → victoria on Nov 18, 2010 16:03:19 GMT -8
Did Sai give massages regularly? It appeared that way, since his fingers seemed to know their way around the body and its various coils of muscle. The blond's curiosity wondered wordlessly, briefly, about this wandering train of thought. But then, when he found himself actually tempted to ask him, he distinctly remembered that he didn't give a fuck. Sai was still a nuisance and a thorn in his side; the pestering gnat that he was waiting to swat. His kneading fingers may have tried to mislead him into a false sense of security and content, but Deidara was still displeased with his fake-smiling charge. He felt his jaw clench somewhat as slivers of tension returned to his demeanor. Had Sai actually meant to lull him into compliance? Was this just more of the kid's sneaky schemes to humiliate him? Whatever the case, the artist began to feel wary again. Sure, he could have just been paranoid... but Deidara would rather be paranoid than deemed a laughing stock.
Despite the edge that was trying to rebuild itself back into his mindset, he offered a wry chuckle when Sai remarked on Romeo and Juliet. Deidara had never been all that fond of Shakespeare, or any playwright for that matter. Though fascinated with the pyrotechnics that were occasionally applied to theatrical productions, he didn't really dabble in that sort of thing. Drama seemed foolish and gaudy. Acting usually found a way to annoy him and always seemed far too over-the-top. Such was a dandy's art, not that of this haughty, insensitive clay-shaper. He tended to roll his eyes and scoff at such things, really. Shakespeare offered all the more nonsense for him to deem ridiculous, so it seemed oddly fitting that Sai would compare their... relationship to that of something so stupid. All the more to laugh at, of course. "Mmhm. Terribly cliché."
As the pale teen stilled his hands, Deidara fidgeted a little with figuring that he'd remove his hands. But he didn't. The Aid was puzzled, turning his head a little with the consideration to stare at him expectantly. What was wrong with him? He wasn't moving or talking, so the gears must have been turning in that hollow head, an assumption that added to the uncertainty that had begun to form again. Clearly, the concept of enjoying himself in Sai's presence was just wishful thinking. The man had been about to turn around to face him when he felt him lean closer, lips hovering near his ear. What he said was not well-received.
There was a strange, squirming sensation in the pit of his gut. An angry heat sparked and lingered within the walls of his insides, licking and flaring against them as his fists clenched and his relaxed muscles began to knot again. This... This brat was actually threatening him? How... How dare he...? [/color][/i] Deidara turned his head slowly, eye focusing itself on Sai as though in something akin to confusion. But the back of his neck was prickling in anticipation for the adrenaline that was waiting to surge into his system as his temper prepared to strike. He didn't even listen to the boy's last few words when he moved forward, an arm reaching to take Sai by the shoulder and urge him down into one of the seats at the work table. " Sit. Sit down." His voice was an authoritative growl and his expression was that of utmost disagreement. There might have even been a flicker of fire in his pale eyes. He loomed close, bent at the waist to get a close look of Sai's stupid face. " Do not threaten me, got it? I am not one of your idiot friends. I am your teacher, your sensei." Deidara's tone was of forced calm, but the rage was evident as it burned the edges of each word that hissed past his lips. " You've got nothing to blackmail me with. I'm doing my job and you should do yours. Do you know what that is? Listening to your teacher. Focusing on your studies and my directions." His eyes narrowed with the intensity of his dislike. So much for feeling relaxed, hm? " If you think you can manipulate me, you're sorely mistaken. There is no misunderstanding. There is no blackmail. So shut up, gather your things, and get out." That said, Deidara turned sharply away and went to clean up his own workspace. Much as he usually felt he could quell his rage with his artwork, he decided that fresh air and distance was what he needed right now. Distance from that infuriating bitch. As he went about storing his own half-finished sculpture, he tuned his eye back on the bane of his still-young teaching career. This one boy had proven to flex his moods throughout the entire spectrum. Deidara may have been aware of his own fickle temperament, but he'd never felt so used. Just thinking this urged his insides to squirm unpleasantly again. " Just don't find a way to earn more extra work. I really don't want to repeat this little mishap." He moved back to the desk he shared with the other art teachers, running a hand though his long hair with a hard sigh. Needed to calm down... Needed to stop imagining Sai's body strapped to a detonating explosive... " Out. Get out."[/size][/blockquote]
|
|