Help, there's an ocean in my fruit! [Arnold] on Magical Arts Room and Sports

Arnold Manger

July 01, 2015 4:11 PM

NEW Art Club! by Arnold Manger

Arnold Manger wanted to be Head Boy for a variety of reasons. It would look good for college applications. It would prove that the school recognized his leadership and problem-solving abilities. It would please his family, both in terms of his generation (Marcus had not been Head Boy, nor Martin at his school, and Sally had made the ballot but fallen short) and for the legacy, as his mother had served as Head Girl at her school. He wanted to make them proud, to get into a good college, and to feel appreciated, but beyond the physical, describable reasons, Arnold simply wanted it.

Not being Prefect, he had realized immediately, did not help his chances. But he thought long and hard and was coming up with ways to compensate. The ballots usually featured smart, activity-inclined individuals whom the professors found suitable, and then the students elected their best options (or their friends). Arnold’s problems were his relative lack of friends and his lack of involvement. His solution, he hoped, would fix both of those shortcomings: he would join some clubs.

But beyond joining, he felt a good leadership position would do well to show his full capabilities. So he thought about the array of clubs Sonora offered currently, and in comparison to the past, something important to him was missing. Beneath layers of intellect and logic, Arnold was at heart an artist. There used to be an Art Club, but it had dissipated with the graduation of its leader and founder, Evan Brockert, he was pretty sure, had graduated, and no one had taken it over thereafter. Arnold hadn’t joined back then because he was, in his younger days, a bit of an art snob and preferred to do things as he felt and in solitude (excluding Ji-Eun, his frequent inspiration, muse, and model).

But now at sixteen years old, Arnold had either become less of a snob or simply given up on his pride in order to advance his chances at being Head Boy. Either way, he had decorated fliers for his new club, advertising not only the date and time but a bit of his qualifications; he spent pained hours leaning over his first, second, twelfth drafts, every contraction of his hand muscles a perfectly guided arc. Perhaps a bit too optimistically, he was hoping his skills might bring in not only a crowd of experienced artists but newbies who would be inspired and want to learn his craft. A boy could hope, at least.

The date had finally rolled around, and though the flier said ten o’clock, Saturday morning found him up and in the MARS room making preparations by 8:30. Everything had to be perfect. He decided their first day of group art, beyond introductions, would be a day of painting. People tended to like painting; it was fun for the experienced and inexperienced artists alike. He set up about twenty canvases (again, probably rather optimistically) in a circle around a stand holding a bowl of various fruits. Very classic, he thought, and a good beginning.

When people began arriving, Arnold became acutely aware that this was actually happening and quickly began to doubt all of his intentions and ideas. However, he took a deep breath and pushed away the nerves and doubts and started to talk. “Welcome to Sonora’s brand new Art Club, everyone!” he greeted with a big and only somewhat false smile. “Today we’re going to be painting, but before we start, let’s go ahead with some introductions. I’m Arnold Manger. I’m a sixth-year Aladren, and I’ve been making art for basically my whole life.” He nodded to the person nearest him and allowed the introductions to flow around the group organically.

After the last person had spoken, Arnold regained the group’s attention. “Great. Nice to see some of you again, and to the others, nice to meet you. Now that we all know each other, let’s get painting. Everybody come take a pallet and then pick a canvas you want.” The pallets were currently empty as it seemed smarter and less messy to forego handing them out already situated with blobs of paint. Instead, the paint was still safely in individual tubes, which everyone would find sitting on the edge of their canvas.

Once everybody else had found one, Arnold picked the remaining canvas he felt had the best angle on the fruit. “Cool, now pick out the paints you like the best--you don’t have to actually match up to the fruit if you don’t want. Do it your way. If you want or need help, though, just call for me, and I can come over there. Now, let’s get started!”

OOC: Welcome to Art Club! Feel free to tag Arnold if you need him for a lot of help, and if you only need him to come by for a single tip, you have permission to write him swinging by and telling you what you need. Remember too that while this club is all about fun, there are still site rules to consider. Particularly, make sure to hit your post length and realism rules. Happy posting!

Subthreads:

Pity I can't fake a French accent. by Ginger Pierce with Abigail De La Garza

Help, there's an ocean in my fruit! [Arnold] by Ava Fletcher with Arnold, Ava

Finding my comfort zone by Clark Dill

Paint what you see, not what you think you see by Jemima Wolseithcrafte

Testing the waters! by Gia Donovan

12 Arnold Manger NEW Art Club! 261 Arnold Manger 1 5

Ginger Pierce

July 02, 2015 5:07 PM

Pity I can't fake a French accent. by Ginger Pierce

Of all the clubs and activities she was joining this year, Ginger was most excited about the Art Club. Mostly this was because she really liked making things a lot, but the fact that she was joining when it was brand new (or at least reborn after a few years of downtime and brand new to her) made her feel like she was getting into an exciting adventure of discovery.

So she bounced into the MARS room at the appointed time (she was rarely early for anything and just as unlikely to be late; she didn't exactly consider herself punctual either, but she was well trained to hit her cues, especially when it came to being where she was supposed to be) and took in the circle of easels. "Ooh! Painting!" she exclaimed, not bothering to keep the observation to herself.

Most of her painting experience was on set pieces rather than canvas, and she was sure she'd never painted a bowl of fruit before - it seemed like such a cliché thing to paint, not that she'd say so to the older student who had clearly put in a lot of effort for today's club meeting - but she was excited about it anyway. She'd wanted a new adventure, right?

"Hi, I'm Ginger Pierce," she introduced herself when it came to her turn to do so. "Second year Teppenpaw. I like crafting things, and my roommates and I decorate our room every year. And I'm looking forward to trying out other artsy things, too!"

When they fished going around the circle, Ginger grabbed one of the pallets, already feeling like an artist just by holding the empty board. Props always helped her get into character, but she kind of felt like she needed a beret to really complete the picture. Randomly picking one of the canvases, as she saw no significant difference between any of them, she addressed her nearest neighbor with an exited grin, "Shouldn't we be wearing paint splotched white smocks and black berets for this?"

Turning her attention to the paint tubes as Arnold mentioned them, she began to sort through them to see what her options were. Picking up a red, she squirted a bit of it onto her pallet and then added a smudge of black next to it. She used her bush to begin mixing them together, more because she felt like mixing paint was a critical part of playing artist than because she felt the red needed to be any darker. Addressing her neighbor again, she asked curiously, "Are you going to try realistic or stylized?"

1 Ginger Pierce Pity I can't fake a French accent. 302 Ginger Pierce 0 5

Ava Fletcher

July 02, 2015 11:41 PM

Help, there's an ocean in my fruit! [Arnold] by Ava Fletcher

That particular morning, Ava had been lounging around, thumbing through one of the books her grandfather had given her for her birthday, dog earing the pages that held sentences she particularly liked, circling the words that made her feel especially good. It just felt like a lazy sort of day, so she hadn’t really been keeping track of time. Before she knew it, though, it was nearly ten o’ clock, and Ava scrambled off her bed, the different books and sketch pads that she had fallen asleep next to shifting, one that she was particularly fond of falling of her bed and landing dangerously close to a jar full of dirty water color water. Ava winced and picked up the sketchbook, kissing the cover and putting it back on her bed. She vanished the dirty water and put the jar on her desk just in case while she was gone wind from the open window decided to tip it over the papers she really needed to clean up one day.

Ava picked up a hair tie and quickly threw her hair up into a messy bun, bits of hair that she had missed falling down on the over-sized peach colored shirt she was wearing, sticking a dull pencil through the bun just in case she needed it later. She grinned as she swapped out the boxers she liked to lounge around her room in for some more public-appropriate jean shorts. The idea that an art club was starting utterly excited Ava. Since school had really picked up, she hadn’t had a lot of time to spend art-ing. In fact, the last time she could remember partaking in art was when she and Chloe had created this really great splatter mural. She wondered if she ought to bring her own brushes before deciding she’d just see what it was Arnold wanted to do for the day and dashed out the door. She was especially excited that the person who was starting the art club was Arnold, someone who she had seen around the common room, classes and the dining tables on occasion but had never really talked to. Which was odd, considering they both spent a large portion of their time doing art and Ava had been looking for someone to fill her art void ever since Dimitri left.

She greeted Arnold pleasantly when she arrived in the art room and smiled politely at everyone until it was her turn to introduce herself. “I’m Ava Fletcher,” she said. “Also a sixth year, also an Aladren. I suppose I just like anything to do with art?” She gave a grin and a shrug, the large t-shirt slightly slipping off her shoulder. “Painting wise I probably like water color the best though I am trying to get better at oil painting, yet I’m also still very fond of working with charcoals and other black and white mediums.”

One of her favorite subjects was her grandfather. She had found that sketching the many different wrinkles that lined his face though tedious was a good way to pass the time. By now she felt as though she could sketch his wrinkles by heart, sometimes it was almost as if her hand was moving of it’s own accord. Now, however, the task at hand was to paint fruit. Funny, Ava thought, she didn’t think she had ever considered a typical still life before. Her grandfather and her cat were frequent muses as was the shore that she had grown-up by, but she had never sat down to sketch out an apple or a banana before. It was a weird thought. She picked out a palette, a good selection of brushes and set to work mixing different blues, greens, and whites.

The canvas which she had chosen had a very good view of an apple, and Ava could already see the painting she wanted to create before her, she could visualize every curve, every wave of color, every stroke and she couldn’t wait to get started. She took out her pencil and carefully moved her arm in a quick swooping motion, laying down the outline of the apple she was going to create. Her mind’s eye was at work already, manipulating the rich pinky-gold colors of the apple and turning it into something it was not, something more. “Don’t you think it’s funny we’ve never really talked before?” she asked Arnold as she dipped into the creamy base she had put onto her palette.

OOC: Understandable if Arnold has to leave their conversation every once in awhile, Ava just wants a relaxed chat.

10 Ava Fletcher Help, there's an ocean in my fruit! [Arnold] 258 Ava Fletcher 0 5

Abigail De La Garza

July 05, 2015 12:50 PM

Pity I can't paint very well. by Abigail De La Garza

Abigail was excited about joining a number of clubs at Sonora mainly because at clubs there would be a range people and therefore probably plenty of socializing opportunities and also because it would be fun to try new activities. Art wasn’t a new activity for Abigail and at home she often went through phases where she was particularly keen on getting her painting things out of the cupboard and playing around with the colours. Although she thoroughly enjoyed this and would class it as a hobby of hers, she was aware that she wasn’t particularly good at it. So she was slightly nervous about joining the Art Club in case the other students would all be serious artists. But she reminded herself that the leader of the club would be offering assistance to help people improve so not everyone could possibly be expert at art.

Abigail felt shy when it was her turn to introduce herself. She wasn’t particularly confident amongst the unfamiliar older students and wasn’t sure what to say considering she wasn’t actually much of an artist. “I’m Abigail De La Garza,” she smiled, trying to appear as confident as she was when talking to other Beginner students. “I’m a first year in Teppenpaw. I like painting best but am keen to try other forms of art.” She hoped she didn’t sound too clueless.

The first year selected a pallet and a canvas when instructed before getting straight into things and squeezing out some paint colours. She soon realized that she was probably going a little too fast if she was going to try produce something vaguely decent that wouldn’t completely embarrass her if Arnold Manger came round to take a look. Abby stared at the bowl of fruit for a moment, wondering how hard such a simple thing could really be to paint.

Her thoughts on the best way to tackle the task in hand were interrupted by Ginger Pierce, who Abby recognised since she was in her house and classes. Abby laughed at the thought of them wearing smocks and berets. “You’ll have to remember that for next time,” she grinned. “If looking the part actually improves your artistic talents then I will definitely be doing that.”

As she looked back at her empty canvas, it occurred to her that perhaps she should draw the fruit first and then add the paint. She picked up a pencil and began drawing. After a while, Ginger spoke again. “I’m aiming for realistic,” Abby replied. “But by the look of things, it will end up very oddly stylized. What about you?” For some reason she just could not get the proportions right at all.

8 Abigail De La Garza Pity I can't paint very well. 315 Abigail De La Garza 0 5

Ginger Pierce

July 07, 2015 8:53 AM

Bah, you don't need to be good at it to have fun by Ginger Pierce

Ginger’s easel neighbor was one of the new Teppenpaw first years. Abby de-Something. They hadn’t had a chance to meet personally yet, and Ginger was glad that was about to change, especially when she laughed at the smock and beret idea and even seemed willing to try it. Well, she’d said if it helped improve art quality, she’d try it, but Ginger couldn’t see how it wouldn’t. If she felt more like an artist, didn’t it just make sense she’d paint more like an artist?

She watched as Abby began to draw out the shapes with pencil, and wondered if she should do the same or just wing it. She nodded in understanding as Abby admitted she was going for realistic but it may not turn out that way. “I may just start with stylized, then when I mess up nobody will be able to tell,” she replied to the return question. “I haven’t done much canvas painting before. Mostly, I do backdrops.”

Deciding pencil outlines were overrated for abstract painting, she started with a circle using her mixed dab of red and black paint on her pallet. It was supposed to be the apple. She considered it thoughtfully. “Geometric would probably be easy, but I don’t really like that style much.” She used her brush to give the circle a bit more of a recognizable apple-shape. “So I might start there and add some realism to it. We’ll see how this goes.”

1 Ginger Pierce Bah, you don't need to be good at it to have fun 302 Ginger Pierce 0 5

Arnold

July 08, 2015 1:58 AM

So is it... a <em>water</em>melon? by Arnold

Arnold had to admit, he was grateful for the casualness with which Ava addressed him. He wasn’t actually very fond of answering questions about art, mostly because of his long-held stance that art is one’s own and no one else can really teach it, but also because, as she pointed out, they had managed to mostly avoid each other over the last fix years of school. “Yeah, it is funny,” he agreed. It hadn’t been deliberate; it was just that for the first few years, he had kept to himself,
not out of shyness (as his yearmates often assumed and indicated with the yearbook) but out of a general disinterest in other people. And then he had met Ji-Eun, and everything had become about her and only her as he fell so completely and utterly for her. Of course, he was fairly decent friends with his roommates, but that had come out of essentially forced interaction. One could not avoid one’s roommates forever.

In some ways, Arnold had always envied Ava; she had grown so quickly to be good friends with both Emrys and Emery, and he was pretty sure the trio often won Best Friends in the school-wide section of the yearbook. Sometimes he wished it was him with them (as Jake often imagined it was and confided that he had written on his ballot), and other times, he just wished… Well, he wasn’t sure. He had a very sticky relationship with people as a whole; he was an introvert who rather hated feeling alone. Despite having no roommate, it seemed like Ava was just never alone.

“You’re an artist too, aren’t you?” It wasn’t much of a question, more of a statement, really. He was pretty sure he had either heard her or one of his roommates mention it sometime. Arnold wasn’t an eavesdropper per se, but the Common Room was only so big, and, when not completely bustling with students, it was difficult not to hear. Also, her introduction earlier was a bit of a giveaway as her I like art bit had been fairly specific.“That makes it especially funny, I’d say. We ought to share tips sometime or maybe do something together,” he suggested.

“Actually,” the redhead continued a moment later, “If you’ve got any ideas for this club, feel free to suggest them, because I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Although his tone hinted at a joke, he leaned in secretively nonetheless. “I’ve got no idea what I’m doing. Not used to being in charge of things.” Arnold laughed at himself somewhat awkwardly and hoped she’d join him in his humor. Of course, having the (occasional) misfortune of being a huge dork, it might not have been as funny to her as he intended.

12 Arnold So is it... a <em>water</em>melon? 261 Arnold 0 5

Clark Dill

July 08, 2015 1:56 PM

Finding my comfort zone by Clark Dill

Clark wasn't quite sure what he was doing here. He had spoken to Arnold Manger on more than one previous occassion, but not so often that he felt close enough to incur the duty as a friend to come to his club. Neither was he particularly interested in art, so he couldn't really attribute his presence to the club's actual purpose.

He supposed he could blame the niggling thought that had risen in response to the club's announcement which pointed out that being involved in things would look good to the people choosing Prefects for next year, but he liked to think he wasn't that far gone to badge covetousness. What he was going to go with, he thought, if anybody asked, was simple curiosity. That was how he'd ended up in the archery club last year, and it was as good an explanation as any for joining the art club.

And ask Arnold did, or at least strongly implied by example that he should share the depth of his interest in art as part of his introduction. Clark waited his turn, not quite nervous enough to call it it with dread, but not exactly eager to tell everybody present his interest was pretty shallow. Soon enough, it was his turn, so he offered, "I'm Clark Dill, fourth year Aladren, and I took art in elementary school but haven't done much of it since then." It was the plain unvarnished truth, and people could take whatever implications they liked from it.

Art as a class in public elementary school did not generally involve actual pallets and canvas and easels, though, and he was a bit tentative in claiming his. He felt like he had accidentally stumbled into a college course for which he was missing several prerequisites, and he just took one of the leftovers after people who really belonged here had chosen theirs.

He saw there was a pencil in with the paint tubes at his easel and he pulled. that out, feeling much more comfortable with an implement that could be erased than the paint brushes. Then he saw the protractor and compass, buried and almost invisible at the bottom of the paint tray.

Clark pulled those out as if he'd just unexpectedly found the Holy Grail. Painting was entirely out of his comfort zone. Geometric drafting, on the other hand, was entirely familiar to him.

With true enthusiasm, he gridded out his canvas and began sketching in precise arcs and lines to perfectly replicate the outlines of the fruit bowl in front of him. Once he had that, maybe he'd use the paint to color it in.

1 Clark Dill Finding my comfort zone 277 Clark Dill 0 5

Jemima Wolseithcrafte

July 12, 2015 12:06 AM

Paint what you see, not what you think you see by Jemima Wolseithcrafte

Jemima had had nothing but a great time at Sonora, and sadness was something that tended to wash off her fairly quickly. The one thing though, that she had mourned for, was the art club her sister had talked about. The one that had been here but had all collapsed and gone before she’d started. She was, therefore, truly excited and ecstatic when she heard it was to be revived. For her, the main downside of her hobby was that it was often solitary whilst she was a naturally sociable person, and so a chance to mix with other like-minded people, and maybe learn from some wiser older students, sounded like the perfect remedy to that.

She arrived at the MARS room just a little early, ready in her artist's smock. The garment had been one of Mother's robes when she was in her twenties, and had ended up in the girls' dressing up box. It was covered with a bold, stylised print of orange and white flowers, with brown silk ribbons hemming the edges. Whilst other people probably thought it terribly dated – or, if they were being kind and such things were en vogue, retro or kitsch – Jemima simply loved it. Sometimes, it was hard to find fun clothes. You almost always could but it took more effort – wading through racks and racks of plain and boring things first. She wished she lived in an era where everything was bold and vibrant. She imagined the robe's previous life, whirling around parties, clashing with every other person in the room, who was equally bright – funny foods, like she'd seen in her mother's old recipe books being served... For all that it was ill-fitting, unfashionable and now thoroughly paint-stained, she always felt like a special person when she put it on.

The room gradually filled up, and Arnold Manger opened up the first official meeting of the newly re-founded Sonora Art Club.

“Hi, I'm Jemima Wolsiethcrafte,” she smiled brightly, when it came to her turn to introduce herself, “I'm a second year Teppenpaw. Like my room-mate, Ginger, said, we like crafting. I also like doing all kinds of art and have for as long as I can remember. I don't really have a favourite yet but I think I'd like to be an illustrator when I grow up,” this was a recent ambition, born of the pictures she'd done to accompany Owen's stories over the summer, but that had been really fun, and it would mean that she got to be friends with Owen forever and they could both do what they loved – he could write, and she could draw.

When they were set to work, she took some time wandering around the available easels, picking an angle she liked, and then she began to consider the fruit bowl. She wanted to make her painting interesting and different. Two Christmases ago, she had received a book from Theodore (who always gave books, whether the person really wanted them or not, although he did usually succeed in tailoring his choices well). This one had been especially good. It was called '101 Art Exercises.' She had been diligently working through it. The book gave exercises in working in different mediums, different light conditions and different styles. The first two were set for today really, but she could work on something from the latter section. She wasn't sure she wanted to bury her nose in a book though. It might seem snobby or anti-social, and the whole point of joining the art club had been to be able to paint with friends. She could do her exercises on her own. She looked around the room, trying to think, watching the others start to set about their paintings. Her eye was drawn to Ginger more than once, wondering what her picture would be like.... And then something connected... Some combination of the thoughts that art club was different to normal painting, because there were other people, and Arnold’'s words Do it your way.... And art teachers who always told you to really look and to paint what you see, not what you think you see. And she decided that she would. She would do exactly that. She blocked out a small space in the middle of her canvas for the pillar with the bowl of fruit, and then began sketching around it, aiming to fill in the different angles of the canvases around it – some hiding their painters completely, some showing just a little glimpse of a face. It would be hard to get all the people just right as they weren't going to stay still and model nicely, but it would be ok to take some artistic license with that.

“How are you doing?” she asked her neighbour, before she got too absorbed, remembering that she wanted this experience to be about making friends too.

13 Jemima Wolseithcrafte Paint what you see, not what you think you see 304 Jemima Wolseithcrafte 0 5

Ava

July 16, 2015 10:46 PM

Um, sure? by Ava

Chatting with Arnold was proving to be the exact mindless, relaxed conversation that Ava had needed. Conversations with her usual friends as of late had been a little weird because she had been, well she didn’t know if it really counted as hiding, avoiding several details of her summer from them. She had talked about her kiss with Demetre with Emery and she had gone over some of the details of her mother with Chloe while hinting at them with Emery, but other than that she had tried to avoid all topics. It was necessary to talk, she thought, but she also didn’t want to burden them with problems that weren’t theirs and so since her break down in the MARS room she had kept most of her very personal details private, throwing herself into her schoolwork, becoming the biggest study bug she possibly could and she was sure her friends had noticed.

However, talking to Arnold now who she’d never really had a full conversation with before, was nice because he didn’t know what she was really like Before. “Yeah,” she replied to his question about being an artist. “I’d really like to find more time in my day to paint—I know I’ve got to work on my watercolors. Even though they’re my favorite I can never get my blending technique the way I like it. But since Advanced studies started I really haven’t had much time and my room is a total disaster zone because I’ve been trying to paint in there as study breaks and…” she shook her head. She had put up a sign for the house elves telling them they shouldn’t clean her room because she felt so guilty about the mess that she just couldn’t abide having the poor creatures subjected to her dried paint-water and her crumpled up papers.

“Having a friend who is interested in art would be really nice,” she smiled. None of her immediate friends were artists as far as she knew, and she had rather enjoyed the painting experience with Chloe so she figured setting up something with Arnold would be especially nice as it would provide her an opportunity not only to get to know her classmate better but it would also allow her to actually take time off. “It’ll give me an excuse to get out of my dorm and the library,” she embellished to make it clear that she wanted to hang out with him. “Not only did I keep all the classes I also added a Herbology independent study and am working on SAT prep for my grandfather. It’s a lot to take on and frankly I’m drowning in work. I need some time off to let off some steam!”

Arnold seemed to return the friendly sentiment as he made a lame joke, the kind one friend might make to another, and Ava grinned. Before Sonora she never would have thought that she would have this many friends, but now that she was a sixth year she was basking in the glory of actually having quite a few people in her classes that she enjoyed the company of, people whose choices in books, music, art even though they didn’t always align with hers didn’t bother her. And she had finally, it seemed, figured out what it meant to be a friend. She slightly lamented over the fact that Dimitri was no longer around for her to share this joy with but the sorrow didn’t last long as her grin opened up to reply to Arnold. “I don’t know how much of a help I can be—in case you hadn’t noticed, there is an extreme lack of badges over here… I am definitely not the most together person if you know what I mean… However, I would be happy to get together every now and then to have like an art fest if you like,”

10 Ava Um, sure? 0 Ava 0 5

Gia Donovan

July 30, 2015 2:02 PM

Testing the waters! by Gia Donovan

Gia was not very good at many things. She could sew and crotchet with the best of them. Growing up, being able to put together their clothes had always been important and Gia’s mother had taught her how to use a needle and thread. But Gia didn’t really put much use to that while at Sonora. On occasion, Jax might come to her asking her to fix something that he might have torn accidentally and he was too embarrassed to ask someone else to do it, but other than that, it was a wasteful talent at this point in her life.

Gia could also make a few dishes that her mother had taught her over the last few years due to the fact that their mother worked long hours and couldn’t always be there to cook them something decent to eat. Gia had volunteered to learn these recipes because Jax felt like he had better things to do. Gia didn’t mind though. Learning it was a fun pastime for her and cooking relaxed her. Plus, it meant time with her mother and learning parts of her Greek heritage. Her mother had mainly taught her soups because those could last a few days. Kotosoupa and Fassolatha were the first two that she learned and mastered. Heartier soups were harder to come by just because meats were more expensive. Hortosoupa was another good one that she had learned. Eventually, her mother would teach her some more things as she grew older.

Aside from those talents, Gia didn’t really have much else to offer. She was a great hard worker when it came to her school work and Gia had a weird knowledge of magical creatures, but mostly she was an expert in Dark Creatures simply because she became so obsessive with needing to know all that she could about them after the incident with her father and brother. But those were things people probably wouldn’t care much about or really talked about in general. It wasn’t like she could sit there and explain why she became so obsessive regarding it.

There were other things that she did, like sing and dance, but those weren’t really talents so much as she just enjoyed doing them. But that meant that she wanted to learn new things and experience other stuff. Gia was so happy that Sonora offered various clubs so that she could try out different avenues to figure out what she might be good at. She had already joined the dance club and if there was a Choir club of some sort, she would have joined that too (but sadly, there wasn’t). But instead she had Archery, Book Club, and Art. Archery she joined and convinced Jax to join too and the same for book club. Art was only her choice but she went happily along to the first meeting. Gia had no idea whether or not she had any talent towards art, but she figured if she could sew and stitch rather well, she had to have some knack for it, right?

She found herself surrounded by easels and the guy, Arnold, telling them that their first job was to create a still life (whatever that meant) of the bowl of fruit. Gia dutifully found herself a spot and hesitantly picked up some charcoal. Did she draw it or did she paint it or did it not matter? She looked around to see what everyone else was doing. She didn’t want to get her first assignment wrong, but she thought if she just painted it the picture would end up looking like a bunch of colorful bubbles. “Excuse me, how do we start?” She whispered to the person nearest to her. Gia didn’t want to disturb them, but she also wanted to try her best at this and make Arnold proud that she had joined in his club.

6 Gia Donovan Testing the waters! 308 Gia Donovan 0 5