Forums » General Roleplay » The Sketchbook (1X1)

For a Sunday night the bar was still a bit crowded. Such is to be expected for a college town on the west coast. In a sea of blurred faces, Donnie sat motionless. The man seemed to stick out of the usual crowd. A white oxford shirt topped dark, dark jeans. The table he sat at was strewn with empty beer glasses, most of them not from him but by those who were too lazy to find the bar again. It was perfectly in the far corner of the outside porch, far enough away from the music that he can hear a wave or two crash onto the beach. For the life of him he didn't know why he did this every weekend. He wasn't exactly the bar-type. Perhaps it was just the feeling of being around people. Not exactly interacting with them. But hearing the conversations, watching... It almost made him feel like a real human being. Ahh, Donnie... You have such big dreams.

Siena however, was there for a completely different reason all together. After moving away from her small hometown in Texas, she had decided she wanted to get away from everything. Family, heat, responsibilities: in which she found herself on the West Coast. No reason she wouldn't go here, she always loved the ocean, however, she dreaded it missing her family. To still honor the feeling of a so called 'family get together', Siena had found herself watching football as they would every night. It probably didn't fit in well with the locals she was rooting against the home team, but her dad's favorite team was playing, how could she not hope they won? She sighed ordering a quick drink, maybe after she would go walk by the water. She glanced at the tv; home team was winning. Skipping the drink, she grabbed her shoulder bag, and made her way down to the water.

Donnie took a sip of his beer, glancing at the water for a moment. Every once in awhile masculine yells could be heard coming from the bar area. Apparently tonight is not their night for football. A small smile came to his features. He went to a game once with his father. It was a faint memory but he remembered how his father taught him how to read a Quarterback and know when he was about to switch a play. Donnie blinked. That was a long time ago. He took another sip before gliding his pencil over the paper before him. He was new here as well. Though his hometown was the East Coast. Virginia. Coming here for his senior year didn't seem to make sense to most, but for him it made all the difference.

Siena took off her tennis shoes, and rolled her jeans up slightly, as so they wouldn't get wet. She held the socks and shoes in her hands as she walked. She remembered why she moved out here. Art program. Full scholarship...It's crazy to think, a small town girl like her going to a pretty prestigious school. Her mother was not as accepting as her father. She never was, claiming art would never get her anywhere. She should be a doctor or a lawyer. But she didn't want those things, let alone do them. she was shy, and hated speaking in public. the thought made her stomach turn. All she was good at was art. She groaned and kicked at the water with an angry growl. She thought she could make it here. But her she was, two weeks out of the college and being evicted from her apartment. No job, and spending her nights at a bar. What did she expect to do? Drink her problems away? Her mom was right. She couldn't do it.

Donnie tipped the glass back until the last bit of the only drink he had disappeared. He wasn't a huge drinker. Though every now and then he wanted to pretend to be normal. He set the glass down just as a rather large, what most likely was a linebacker for the team, slammed down his own gigantic stein. He merely winked at Donnie and laughed. Caveman. Donnie stood then, gathering his sketchbook and tucking it into his back pocket. He needed air. And this crowd was getting thicker. Body would rise just as a couple of heavily intoxicated girls slammed into him. "Oh wow... You..." One would say with a giggle. "I think she likes your eyes..." Her equally drunk friend would say. He merely nodded and smiled. "Take care of her..." Was all he said before disappearing into the crowd. "But you didn't get us a drink!"

The beach. Finally. Thankfully the music was just a faint sound as the waves seemed to mask the noise of the football fans and drunk cheerleaders. Donnie just stood at the shore, his hands in his pockets. Slowly closing his eyes, he just let the warm salty air blow through his shirt and hair. Though it was a full moon, he hadn't noticed that he was sharing the beach with somebody else.

She simply continued her small temper tantrum. Most of it resulted in her kicking the water. However, half way through, she took out a book from her bag. More like a portfolio. One by one, each page was ripped violently from the book, crumpled, and tossed into the water. She was close to tears as she just muttered hateful words under her breath. She felt useless. Too consumed in this anger, she couldn't feel the presence of the other on the sands.

Donnie opened his eyes suddenly at the abrupt sound of paper ripping. He looked over to see her tearing up what appeared to be art and tossing it into the sea. "Hey..." He would say, at first walking towards her. But as he noticed that she most likely didn't hear him he jogged over. "Hey, wait!" Donnie ran now, gently putting his hands on top of the portfolio. It was then that their eyes met. He knew her. She was in one of his art classes. Donnie saw the look in her eye. She was on the edge of something. "I'm pretty sure there are laws prohibiting the littering of the Pacific.." He would say lightly, offering a kind smile as his had slowly lowered the portfolio in her hands. "And throwing away your own art is definitely a crime by any standards.."

She looked up at him still seething. "oh? Well sue me." she snapped ripping away another. "you'll get all thirty bucks till my name." she said crumbling another piece and tossing that one away again. "stupid ocean. Stupid art. Stupid school!" she shouted throwing the entire portfolio into the washed waves. She panted, coming down from her tantrum, her breathing evening out, and the red from her cheeks giving way back to her pale complexion. "stupid everything..."

He didn't scramble to pick up her art. If that is where she wanted it, then that is where he will leave it. Instead he put his hands back into his pockets and stared at the various pieces dancing in the waves. "You're right. Stupid everything..." He would say nonchalantly. "In fact the salt water might even improve those..." Donnie would say, "Of course I can't say the same thing about the sand, that would take away from the composition of the oil-based paintings." A small smirk came to his face then as he didn't move to look at her. Instead he let the waves crash through the silence that they found themselves in.

"Don't be dense. The water would drain the color from the shading making it-" She rambled on, before stopping herself and giving him a stern look. "Oh, you think you're so freaking clever don't cha?" She said standing up and jabbing him in the chest with her index finger. "Well let me tell you something, pretty boy, If I wanted those I would've kept them. But unfortunately, me and every other person on this cursed earth, wants nothing to do with me and my trash." She growled at him. It was quite funny. A petite girl such as her self, standing up to him. One might find it comedic if they were watching it.

It didn't take long to hear her response which he knew she couldn't resist. But soon he found himself being poked. Donnie gave his chest a good rub and let her finish her rant. "You know that actually hurt?" He would say, chuckling a bit. "I wouldn't call that trash. I'm not even saying that to be nice." Donnie would pause for a minute, glancing at her. "Siena, right?" He didn't give her a chance to respond. He knew it was her. "You were in one of my art classes. Art of the Avant-Gardes, I believe.." Donnie paused for a moment. "Listen, I meant what I said. I'm not trying to be nice. I remember you- Your work. There were so many trying to prove themselves. You were the only one not afraid to just... Be you." Donnie's eyes went to her art floating in the sea foam. "All I'm saying is that it was refreshing. And it really is a shame if you think your art is trash."

She looked out at the water and puffed out air. "It's not like I'll make it...No one wants anything original...they want pieces that resemble something else or someone else. It's not about being original or different. No one likes different. People are afraid of change. And that's why everything is the same...Every person, everything, just another clone in this place where we're taught being different is acceptable, only to put down things that are." She said kicking the sand gently. She ha an easy way of losing her temper, but it seemed when she finished her freak out, she made a small bit of sense.

He listened to her. He knew what it was like to not have anyone to hear what you really want to say. And what she said made perfect sense to him. "Then screw them." He would say simply, giving a shrug. "Being an art major they teach you how others paint, draw... See the world. I mean it's great to know which colors go with what or know about spacial design. But they had to have learned it from somebody who did it first. They were the different ones once. And now their methods are being taught to you so you can branch off and have your own way of doing things." He turned to her and smiled a bit. "Do you really think I'm clever?"

She turned and was with him up until his last comment. Her face turned a little embarrassed as she turned away. "Heat of the moment okay? And I never said I think you're clever, I said you think you're clever. You know, how you view yourself." She said glaring up at him, a slight blush dusting her cheeks. "I think you're slightly crazy really." she said bluntly. "Talking to an almost stranger on the beach. I could be a murderer. Or a kidnapper." She said turning her back to him. "or both."

A look of amusement flickered across his face as she continued. Donnie looked down to her, stepping a bit closer. The height difference was slightly amusing with her head just reaching his chest. He let her finish and nodded a bit. "You're right, you could very well be a serial killer." He would smile again. "Though the only casualties I see, love... Are now in the ocean." Donnie glances down at the sand for a moment. "Personally I don't think you would do it."

She looked out at the floating papers. And her eyes fell. She stepped into the water and picked one up, shaking the sea foam from its form. It was a small country side farm house and Little girl reaching up for a branch of a large oak tree beside it. She had pigtails dangling from either side of her head. It was a cute little picture. One she was quite fond of. She blew on it to dry it slightly.

Donnie's eyes followed her as she picked up the piece. He watched her pick it up and cradle it gingerly like it was her own child. He let the moment pass, hoping that she would see that there was talent there. "Looks like a younger version of you..." He would say, offering a warm smile. Truth be told she intrigued him. He remembered her from class. She was the only one he saw himself getting along with. He wasn't exactly the outgoing type and there was something about her. He remembered her voice, that light hint of a western accent. Judging by the picture he could only assume that this was her picture of home.

She gave a slight nod and held it close to her Cheshire. She let out a small breath before wading through the water and picking up the papers one by one. "don't just stand there..." she muttered looking back at him. "you're the one saying they're good. Come help." she ordered picking then up and blowing on them slightly.

Couldn't help but laugh a bit at her command. He moved immediately to take off his socks and shoes to help her. One by one they were carefully picked up and he did his best to remove what sea foam was on it. Finally he picked up the last piece. "There we go." Donnie walked over to her and handed her the stack. "I feel better now."

She smiled slightly before it fades again. "yeah... Glad you do.. " she said gently. "I still have about four days to get out of my place." she said gently rubbing her face furiously. "Geez I'm so dead..." she muttered shaking the papers as they dried in the sea air. She pouted slightly seeing the edges curl in from the water.