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Rise, my beautiful Beast!

The second day of class had started and Mitsu sat facing across from another student. She watched the scroll as it unraveled down the middle of the room looking over the landscape it made up. This time they would actually be using the ink they had made the previous day to make a creature.

Nodding to their assistant professor Mitsu grabbed her brush and silently got to work. Lifting the amount of ink needed wasn't difficult, Mitsu had a steady hand for that but it seemed to end when she pressed her brush to the paper making a bit of a blobby mess. Frowning the lycan tried to make the best of it making the blobs into legs with a simple shape to trace along the outer body.

The only thing left were the eyes and consider what her creature looked like so far Mitsu put two blobby dots for the eyes.



The picture seemed to move suddenly and before Mitsu knew it her panda was gone from her paper.

Blinking she looked around curiously before turning her attention to the scene and spotted the creature in the midst of the bamboo forest. It didn't look like it was moving now. Had that just been her imagination?

Rise, my beautiful Beast!

Roch was actually feeling a bit confident in this one, he thought as he entered the room and sat down. It was like, the first time on the island that he'd felt confident, and he hoped it wasn't going to betray him. He stared at the paper for a long moment before placing the paintbrush into the ink. He groaned as the ink started splattering everywhere as soon as he lifted it, and pressed it against the stone, trying to drain off the excess.

Even if he could draw, he thought, it was hard to do when he didn't know how to use the tools. Regardless he waited a few moments before pulling it away from the stone again and moving to the paper. He wanted to draw Clef, he decided as he took the first stroke. Unfortunately the paper soaked up the ink, bleeding into the paper. He tried another stroke, and the same thing happened again. With a dark expression he started working away, trying to keep the blob from--well, looking like a blob. It wasn't working.

It was only when he got to the head that the excess ink had stopped. He managed to get a decent shaped face, and then he went to work on the eyes. He knew Clef's eyes. He loved Clef's eyes. Jackdammit's eyes were different, there was this "I'm judging you and I find you lacking" look in the starving stray's eyes. Roch found himself ignoring Jackdammit more often than not because of those eyes. Riff's eyes were tiny and twinkly, and often turned towards something he'd rather not think about--

But Clef's eyes, he thought as he started to paint them--Clef's eyes were full of thoughts. They were tilted, and green--although it was impossible to do the green in black paint, he still worked, watching with a little grin as those droopy eyes started to take form on the sheet. He always looked like he was pouting--or sleepy, Roch thought. He'd once thought that that was exactly what Clef was. He'd realized differently. Behind droopy eyes like this was an ornery, funny little guy that did whatever seemed interesting to him...

This blob creature, with those eyes, started to look like something he would have liked to know, he thought as he tossed in more details on the eyes. He would be overlooked, but that wasn't always a bad thing--

He pulled his paintbrush away, staring in shock as the eyes on the beast blinked--clearly blinked--then the beast disappeared entirely. He stared at the paper for a moment longer before standing, and silently leaving the room.

Rise, my beautiful Beast!

When Yin returned he habitually took his shoes off and stored them before entering the room. Even those that did not know the mantodae well might have noticed that he was acting even more peculiar than usual, eyes darting, suspicious and almost frantic at times. He seemed antsy too, unable to keep still, twitching his long fingers to keep from tapping his foot. He sat, staring down at the materials in front of him, trying almost desperately to focus on the here and now.

Why did it all have to look the same?

The sound of the instructor startled him, and he jumped, nervous. Frightened almost. Draw a creature? How was he supposed to...He swallowed nervously reaching down to pick up his brush.

And promptly almost dropped it as memories began to flood his senses. Memories of a small boil picking up a brush too large for his hands, determinedly attacking the paper with the brush. Being scolded for how roughly he had treated the bristles.

No. This was not the time for this. This was with the clans and this was a class. He was at Amityville now. He was...he was....he was not paying attention. Ink splattered the table as he tried to move the brush to his paper and he could not hold back an annoyed hiss that escaped through his teeth, no matter how rude the clansmen may have found it. That was a fool's mistake.

He had somehow managed to tense up even farther as he began to paint, rough, rushed strokes staining the paper, flecks of ink splashing across the surface surrounding his drawing. He was focused intently though, simply not doing a good job with the work. He was not an artist, he was a fighter and back home they would not...he faltered. No. Not back home. That place was not home. It would never been home again. It never really had been. But you still thought it, a voice whispered in his head.

With now a grim determination he began trying to paint the eyes, only to realize that when he had painted the head on he had colored in so he had no choice but to make larger circles. They glinted faintly and then the mantis, if it could even be called that, was gone. Somehow he had managed to complete the task. He held up his hand, waiting impatiently to be acknowledged before standing and bowing as he would to a sparring partner or instructor, right fist closed and pressed to the open palm of his left hand.

Then he turned and all but fled, wishing more than anything in the world that he could just...just...he did not actually know. But it did not involve sleep. Perhaps he could see if students were allowed to spar.

Rise, my beautiful Beast!

Ciel sat before the desk with the ink she made the day before. She looked over at the long scroll painting dividing the room and thought for a few moments as to what to paint.

After a little thought, she carefully dipped the brush in ink, lifting it to the paper. With a few strokes she had the general body shape of a cat outlined. It was a simple cat shape in either a "playtime!" or "just finished pounce" position, depending on how you look at things.

With coloration, it became apparent that this was no house cat. It was a fire tiger, a spotted wildcat rumored to be able to drive tigers away. The black ink suited the image well and even allowed Ciel to add in the whiskers and little hairs along the inside of the ears. Awww, how cute!

When it came time to add the eyes, Ciel carefully shaped the tip of the brush with her fingertips and a little water for the finest stroke she could manage. You could say she went a little crazy with the eyes: they were fully shaded with dark slitted pupils and even tiny eyelids at the top.

When she had finally removed the brush from the paper, the cat blinked before vanishing from the page. Ceil began to scan the large painting in the center of the room, wondering where her kitty had gone.

Rise, my beautiful Beast!

Moure hadn't had any expectations for their ink, and as such had no idea what to prepare himself for on the second day of class. This time, it seemed they were going to paint creatures that were enchanted to move to the main painting that their instructor had laid out.

Moure started at his blank paper, his mind trying to think of what he should paint for this activity. He hadn't had much experience with painting before, but it seemed interesting and he was open to learning.

The first thing seemed to be actually getting the right amount of ink on the brush without spilling it everywhere. Calmly and carefully, he lifted the brush and managed to keep all the ink balanced properly among the brush. Now came the challenge. What to paint, what to paint...

After a moment, he simply began sketching, letting his mind direct the brush. His hand was steady (a trait he'd improved from his experience with bending wires last week, no doubt), and the ink flowed off the brush beautifully. A slight smile found it's way across his face, and he brushed some of his hair from his face with his free hand, all the while watching the creature unfold onto the paper.

What surprised him is what the creature turned out to be. His brush filled in the details, leaving a sleek and intricate image in it's wake. The result was something altogether very familiar to Moure. Although there were some differences, several traits were similar, and Moure found himself smiling at the paper. The creature, what seemed to be a large reptilian monster with a sleek wolfish pelt down it's back and limbs, was poised, with animalistic grace in it's stance. A long horn protruded from the forehead, sharp pointed claws overlaying it's true paws. It was bigger than one of it's species normally would be (if it had actually existed, Moure had the impression that it probably would've been the size of a horse, if not larger), more fit to the canine's anatomy and pelt than the reptilian skin it truly wore beneath. The differences couldn't fool Moure though.

The creature before him was an oversized, more beastly version of a boogeymon. Specifically of a boogeymon named Gibralter.

He hadn't seen his pet in more than a week, and in varying amounts of time before that due to Trials and classes, and felt a deep pang of guilt suddenly. Gibs was probably worried sick after everything that had happened recently, and the patchwork never being around probably didn't help the situation.

Moure looked to his picture, and realized he hadn't done the eyes yet. Gently, he began to work, the brush slipping around and forming the base for the eyes. They began to take form, reflecting the deep animalistic instinct of the painting's namesake. The wolf-proportioned boogeymon stared out as the patchwork put some more details into the eyes, and Moure almost felt the impression that the real Gibralter would've forgiven him, if only since he was trying so hard to do the minipet justice in the painting. As he was just finishing up the eyes, which were impressive, but not nearly as good as those of the real boogeymon (nothing Moure could paint could replicate the deep twinkling love and loyalty that belonged in the true boogeymon's eyes), they seemed to wink at him. Then, the beast was gone, off to the main painting in the center of the room.

Rise, my beautiful Beast!

Rafael had to admit that it was a cool effect, the ink-transferrance, but he couldn't figure out what the point of it was. Still, the class was calm and cathartic, and that counted for something. It was definitely much more low-key here than on the last island.



He didn't really mean to draw a rat, but it was the first thing that came to mind and he was doodling it before his fingers really realized what they were doing. He smiled. It reminded him of home. He couldn't wait to get out of here so he could go home and get back into his natural form and relax a little.

He finished by adding the eyes, and they seemed to gleam as though alive. Before he could get a clear look, though, the rat had vanished, and it was definitely nothing more than a painting when he saw it again. How bizarre....

Rise, my beautiful Beast!

Ulmuka was diligent as he observed the instructor. He wanted to do his best but knew that sometimes his taloned hands could be awkward for delicate tasks. he took extra care when using his ink and was proud of himself when he didn't make a massive mess.

Of course when it came to drawing his creature, he'd basically failed. His talons made the brush slip and the body of the bird he was drawing became a blobby indistinguishable mess. It clearly had wings but other than that it was just a sloppy outline. He focused somehow, halfway through, and tried to put in details. The eyes of the bird were almost perfect, keen and unblinking. The blobby mess had amazing eyes and right when he thought he was finished, it blinked at him before disappearing.

The strix made a noise of surprise, but was delighted by the trick.

Rise, my beautiful Beast!

Adiyan was excited for the second day of class as he knew his ink wasn’t the best but it had been interesting to make none the less. Sitting down at one of the table that had been set up and listening carefully to the instruction that Assistant-Professor Shanzhu was telling them as he carefully poked the paper and thought that he would have to be careful since he didn’t know if his claws would tear the paper if he snagged it. So he was careful with the paper as he carefully put his brush into his ink, but as he brought up his brush from the stone slab and right before putting it to paper, Adiyan saw that it was too much ink and let it drip off some before putting the brush to paper.

It didn’t take him too long to figure out what type of beast that he wanted to a deer that he had seen in a picture when he had been younger. Taking extreme caution as he painted the Fu Dog got the outline of his deer done and then when to do some of the details of the deer.

Done with the body of his deer he them painted eyes for the beast and just before he lifted his brush from the second eye the deer looks almost alive, to which startles Adiyan a little. Then he removes the brush from the paper and the deer vanishes from the paper all together. He was intrigue that it had disappeared from his paper then remembered that there was a spell on the paper and that was just very neat as it had been something that he had never seen before.