403 || The Art Room: Before/After School Hours

[Vergil von Wulf]

The Art Room is where one will find all your needs to express yourself may it be through:
-the art of painting in acrylic, oil, egg tempera, watercolor, et cetera
-graphite pencils (organized from 6H to 9B in neat tin boxes)
-charcoal (both willow and vine in stick and in pencil)
-colored pencils (also in prismacolor stix, verithin, softcore, scholar, et cetera)
-pastels (both oil and chalk- soft and nupastel)
-markers (prismacolor double-ended, illustration markers, and copic for the advanced students)
-spray paints (don't forget to do this near an open window and wear a mask as well as warn others present)
-collage work (there are boxes of old magazines, newspapers, and the like neatly stacked in a far corner near the shelves where labeled student portfolios are kept)
-And so on.

The entire area is large and the far wall is line with large double windows that open outward to allow good light for dramatic shadows should the students or teacher set up a still life, someone needs to air out their piece, or any other positive thing that came with such an advantage.

You are asked to please:
-Thoroughly clean all of the brushes under warm water (and with soap if necessary) after every usage; clean them after every dip with acrylics for once it dries, the rubbery paint is hard to get out and the brush is sufficiently ruined.
-Respect all artwork hung or set out to dry and be mindful of the canvas area. An accidental kick could sent the easel toppling along with someone's work.
-Like anywhere, anything you use should be put back the way you found it. Everyone that uses this room comes here for the same reason you did, thus they deserve to find the materials you used in the same, pristine condition.
-If you desire to leave someone critique, make it constructive and preferably don't make it anonymous. If the artist were to have an inquiry about your honest, and hopefully helpful, words and ideas they'd need to find you.
-There is a Kone Hand Vacuum at the teacher's desk in the front for those who use chalk pastel, charcoal, or any other material that leaves a powdery residue to use to clean up afterward. If it's left, it gets tracked around the room and finds its way onto other people's work, ruining it.
-Sealing sprays for preventing smudging and for finished work can be found inside the third cabinet where all spraying materials are aligned by color in an analogous color scheme followed by the neutrals.
-Please do not take clay outside of the room and use it immaturely, i.e. smothering it against school property. Keep it in the room and use it wisely. You are all young adults and should behave as such.
-Any sculptures (freestanding or relief) made, should you not trust them to be safe here, can be moved to a small storage room connected to this room via the dark blue door.
-All in all: Welcome to the Art Room! Enjoy your stay and come back often: art can be very therapeutic you know. [data]"To become truly immortal, a work of art must escape all human limits: logic and common sense will only interfere. But once these barriers are broken, it will enter the realms of childhood visions and dreams." - Giorgio de Chirico

[Vergil von Wulf]

Vergil was working in the art room late into the afternoon, stifling a cough into the crook of his arm thankful the sweater muffled most of it. He had been fairly adept at hiding the fact he was ill but it was becoming increasingly more and more difficult with how progressively worse it was getting. Damn it.
He coughed again into his sleeve and leaned against the wall to ride it out. They were getting a lot worse and he swore if the coughing kept up at this intensity, he'd not only have a six pack but he's be bleeding from the throat with how raw it was getting. A whimper escaped him as he pushed himself off the wall to continue his charcoal piece with a wince and trying his best to ignore the writhing of his stomach as nausea set in. All that force was going to make him expel the little he had in him.
Poor Vergil cursed the winter under his breath and now hunched over a desk with fatigue and the room flickered in and out of existence as a bead of sweat ran down the left side of his face. It wasn't that bad. He was just out of- of sorts, yeah. The head shake he gave himself to snap out of it made him tilt unsteadily on his feet and that's how he ended up crumpled over on his side on the floor of the art classroom, breath heavy with congestion.

[Penelope Greene]

Penelope walked into the art room, a few rolls of film that needed to be rolled for developing in hand. She whistled 'Do You Hear What I Hear' softly to herself, still in the Christmas spirit. She continued on her way, getting out a reel from the cupboard when she heard a heavy breathing off to her side. Creepy... she thought to herself. She turned, expecting some lame Freshman mouth-breather, but instead saw Vergil VonWulf on the floor. "Vergil!" she exclaimed, setting her things down and rushing over to him. "What happened? Are you okay?" She wasn't like this for everyone, Vergil just seemed to grab hold of her softer side- it was probably because of that 'innocent foreign kid' air about him.

[Vergil von Wulf]

Everything sounded like it was underwater to him. The birds the chirped outside with the setting sun despite how cold it was getting with nightfall and the footsteps of someone passing by or coming in - he couldn't for the life of him distinguish the difference between one or the other at the moment. He had tried to get up but every limb of his body felt numb and heavy, much too heavy for him to lift up almost as if he was underwater himself and maybe he was and he just didn't realize it. How sad, he thought to himself, if I am drowning now, at least I will have gone without pain. It was the only thought that came to him and he was thankful it was painless if it was true. All signs pointed to yes until he heard someone yell something and then he heard them much more clearly as they got closer.
Vergil slowly opened his eyes though only managed a half-lidded, glazed over gaze, "Was..?" The beads on his arm tightened just the slightest as if telling him not to move and a whisper in his mind told him it was the nice blond, Penelope, at his side. He shut his eyes, "Ah - Fräulein Pehnelohpe... Können Sie mir helfen?" In his haze, he remembered he wasn't exactly at home and the poor girl didn't understand German to his knowledge so he cleared his throat and ended up coughing pathetically into his trembling hands.
"Sohrry Fräulein, ah, vhat -- vhat I mehnt tu say ess kahn yu help me? Geht tu my room aht leest. I du noht meen," he paused to cough harshly again, his entire form trembling under the intensity of the last bout, "tu tr-trouble yu."

[Penelope Greene]

"Vergil..." Penny whispered, "What happened to you?" She listened to his german plea. As the only word she knew in German was wunderbar, which was not someone would normall say while in the state that Vergil was in, she did not understand what he said. After he translated it into English for her, she said, "Of course I'll help you, Verg. But maybe I should take you to the infirmary- I don't think you're fit to be by yourself in your room."
Penny contemplated how she would get Vergil to the infirmary. If he was able to wallk- or at least hobble- she could help him over. Or she could call the infirmary- thankful that the Headmistresses had insisted on all students adding the number to their cell phones. But what if Vergil was not able to make it that long? She could teleport herself with him to the infirmary, but that might be too hard on the sick boy. Penelope was not good at this saving business- the destruction bit was so much easier.

[Vergil von Wulf]

"Nein Fräulein -" he was stopped again by the need to cough into his hands but wasn't aware of the line of crimson that remained when he pulled away, the strand of blood mixed saliva clinging to his palm until it broke. Vergil had never coughed this much, this hard, or felt so out of sorts. The inflammation of the blood vessels in the lung mixed with the irritation of his throat had ultimately forced him to expel blood and it was likely the common infliction he had begun with had grown to become bronchitis or pneumonia - or perhaps he had Cystic fibrosis. As far as he knew however, it was simply little cold, nothing he could get over by himself. Another fit cut him off from finishing his words and more blood ended up covering his hands. He could taste it of course. Like copper, the tang wasn't exactly something that forced revulsion but it wasn't natural to have it in one's mouth either. Vergil slowly registered there was something on his hands that was slick and warm but with his head falling to the side again and his eyes flickering shut, it wasn't exactly the first thing on his mind. He felt tired. Really tired. He could just nap right now. Penny wasn't obligated to do anything and he wouldn't mind if she left him as long as he could...just..sleep...

[Penelope Greene]

"Ja, Vergil," Penny said. She cringed back when Vergil began coughing up blood, and thought of Moulin Rouge. It was possible that Vergil could have Tuberculosis, as Satine did in the movie, but Penny had no knowledge of the disease other than what Nicole Kidman had taught her. She was sure that there were at least a dozen other things that Vergil could be showing symptoms of, and maybe it was just a terrible cold. She remembered how she had gotten terribly sick one winter a few years ago with a cold, and had coughed so hard that she had gotten hairline fractures along two of her ribs.
"Vergil, you're coughing up blood," she told him, unsure of how conscious he was. "You need help." Throwing caution to the wind, she took the hand that he had not coughed into and held it tightly as she teleported herself, and him with her, to the infirmary.

(continued here.)