a canvas with stab wounds [bronte/tiara]

its all quiet on the snowy eastern front as you try to focus on anything else then what the others might be. school had never been your favorite, even though it was a strong suit that you did not want to admit to yourself. just because she knew all the answers did not mean that she wanted anything to do with it. they already had a hard time fitting in, the last thing that she needed to do was come for dolly.

dolly didnt even pay her too much mind, just like the rest of the kids did. they wre okay with that though, because that meant that she could be left to all their own devices and privacy. it wasnt like she wanted anyone to understand her to begin with. she was just find being known as the overzealous weirdo with a pension for making any situation awkward with just a utterance of a word.

the art room had been a little chillier then usual, and she had an inkling to believe that erras had something to do with it. when she walked in, she noticed that the other half of the room had been a complete mess, and bronte had always been able to tell when it was someone else versus when it was erras. they would keep their comments to themselves long enough to avoid any conflict. she would not be the one to clean it up though.

it did give her a chance to wear a thick blue knitted scarf that she had received as a gift ages ago. the paint thought had been stiffening up quicker then she had anticipated. they requested to have a kettle near by just so she could warm up the water they used to clean their brushes. the heat would be enough for them to get some pigment off the frozen solidified paints. shed just have to be careful that she didnt knock the water all over the place. the last thing she needed was the groundskeeper to go back on their generosity.

the first stroke of black hadnt been opaque enough, and bronte sighed, realizing that she probably wouldnt be able to knock out a painting today like she had wanted too. when they were in the right mood, like they were today, they trusted that their mind would be able to carry through until the piece was finished. the colors were just not speaking to her at this point. or working with her to be quiet clear.

bronte looked up for a moment to notice that someone was at the door, a foreigner to the art room, but not someone that couldnt come in. bronte though was trying to focus on keeping warm and warming up her paints, but a little distraction could never hurt. "what do i owe the pleasure?" she looked away from their painting and noticed that it was tiara that had been standing at the door way. "hiding out from something?" bronte said with a small smile before rubbing her hot wet brush into the paint below it.

she would create something beautiful, distracted or not.