Going once... going twice...

Posted on Thu May 2nd, 2024 @ 10:14 by Claire Cavendish & Rebecca McMillen

Chapter: Winter's Crest Festival
Location: Auditorium, Avalon Institute
Timeline: 21:00 hours, Friday 18th of December, 1992
1871 words - 3.7 OF Standard Post Measure

The auditorium was still abuzz with activity after several different musical performances, which all built to the climactic rendition of 'Do you hear the people sing' by the assembled school musical performers. It had been quite a big production but there was no rest for the wicked. Quickly everyone behind the scenes made room on the main stage for the next portion of the evening and the already packed auditorium managed to squeeze in a few more people for the next event.

Throughout the day several different artworks had been on prominent display in the art classroom, having been restyled as an art gallery. Some of the students very proudly presenting their art to the people that had come in and had a look. Mostly their parents or guardians, but there was also ample interest from the local community. Some of the art was very well done.

Claire had strongly considered throwing some money at it to buy an art piece or two, but quickly concluded that she could either buy all of the art or buy none at all. She decided that it would be better to buy none at all. She stood at the back of the stage, looking at the resident art teacher, "ready?"

Rebecca took a few deep breaths. She wasn't really afraid of crowds. She was more concerned about standing in front of them. It helped that among the crowd might have been some of her fellow faculty members, folks that had confidence in her. Believed in her. It helped a little more that maybe somewhere in the crowd was a little girl with rubber gloves. If she could focus on being brave, even if just for one person, then that would make it all worth it.

"If I said no, think you could stall for a few months?" Rebecca joked, a smile on her face. The timid little mousey woman she met in the cellar was ... well still here, just a little more confident. A little more backbone to the figure. She had better success at keeping her tail from wildly twitching to show off her nervousness, but it was still there. "No no I ... I'm ready."

With that, Rebecca took the first few steps forward, towards a position of promenence. Towards a position of focus. "Good afternoon, if I could have your attention. My name is Rebecca McMillen, I'm the art teacher here at Avalon. First I wanted to take the time to thank you all for coming. I appreciate it, and I'm certain all the students and faculty here do as well."

A pause, a breath, "Today's auction will be for pieces of art made by students here. The subject matter was to illustrate the grounds in a manner to your style and capacity. As you look at the pieces here, I want to ask you to consider more than just the proficiency but to consider the perspective. Look past the surface to the soul. I invite you to consider that while there may be a difference in style between each piece, consider that I bet even Leonardo di Vincii fingerpainted during his formative years." she offered for humor's sake. She wanted to give each piece an honest chance, nevermind that not each student in her class had the same style or level of proficiency. She also tried to avoid using provocative terms. Mutant. Power. Ability. Gift. Oh how she hated that word.

"With that, let's start with the first piece..."

Claire stepped up to the easel that had been set up and took a rather large canvas to set up. There was clearly a lot of effort that went into the piece, but at best it could be classed as an abstract or impressionist work. She set it up and stepped aside. There was even a little flourish where she held her hands out like one of those game show assistants like on Countdown. She turned to Rebecca and waited for her to kick off the auction.

With Claire's help the presentation would be that much smoother. Rebecca described the subject matter, the period of art history that it emulated, and the notion that a student here at Avalon made it entirely on their own. No help. No mutant advantage. She avoided the term 'gifts' or 'talents', since she hated those terms applied to what it was they could do. What she could do. What Claire could do. There were no gifts here. Only useful curses.

Such dour thoughts didn't show on her presentation. She was smiles and cheer, proud of the work her class had achieved. She didn't even hide her tail as she moved out from the podium's cover so as to better motion and detail each piece. She had staggered their order, so that those that were 'better' would be well spaced with those that were 'more impressionist'. She'd never use the term bad. There was no bad art, just more impressionist pieces.

She never named the student, allowing them their anonymity from stardom. She simply detailed each piece, each period of art, and touched a bit on Avalon's impact on the students before moving to the bidding, moving to the next piece. Many of the people here seemed eager to own the more well defined pieces, but Rebecca made certain to praise the more inexperienced hands just as much. To her, they were all special. They weren't all Picassos, but they were all special.

Movement caught Rebecca's eye mid-auction. Normally people milling about didn't mean anything, wouldn't spark any interest but this movement was different. This was suspect. From the perspective of someone who knew how to go about not getting caught, these people were moving with the intent on not being caught. She had to tell Claire. But how do you send a message on a stage?

The next piece! That's it! The mousey teacher moved across the stage to 'help' Claire put it up on display and..

"Back of the crowd, four kids. Fishy." she whispered.

Then moved the piece into position for the next auction call, which brought Rebecca back to the podium to tell the story of that piece.

As Claire retreated back to the shadowy parts of the stage she observed the boys Rebecca had pointed out. They were keeping together and definitely seemed to be up to something. She couldn't spot any weapons on anything really in their hands from her current angle. So with a shimmer she cloaked herself in the shadows and then a moment later a fizzle and pop indicated she had left the stage entirely.

There was a bit of a nook she could fit herself in in the back of the room. With the spotlight on the stage and the room lights turned down low there was plenty of opportunities for her to step in and out. The room was packed though so getting through it while remaining both invisible and undetected was going to be a bit more difficult. She was close enough now to see that they definitely weren't actually carrying any weapons, which would've surprised her anyway with the security at the gates.

She simply stood there, out of sight, waiting for them to make a move.

"Two hundred!" came a voice, a new voice. Rebecca motioned, caught up in the moment. "Two hundred!" she echoed, and looked about "Do I hear Two Twenty Five?" she started with an incremental notch up. Someone matched the 225. Before she could even say the next notch, the previous voice called "Two Fifty". Claire saw it all from her vantage off to the side. The four of them had moved through the crowd and were calling out bids. Bids that they had little to no intention of honoring.

"Three hundred going once? Twice Sold!" and Rebecca cheered. Then one of the kids sneered up at the stage, "Pffft, get lost freak, no one wants your dumb kids dumb art. Rattie rattie rat rat!" the four of them started to chant.

"Hey c'mon now, knock it off." Rebecca started with diplomacy. The chant from the four continued, and Rebecca started to get upset. Started to get angry. That tail of hers whipped twitchy twitch. "I said knock it off, you're ruining this for everyone!"

"Nuuh, we're just ruining it for you freak!" one of the punks called back, and the rattie rattie chant started up again. The crowd at this point was a bit confused, a bit concerned, and starting to get angry. Angry at the kids for ruining the moment, and slowly starting to get concerned about their safety here if all it took was four hooligans to ruin the security of the event.

"What are you gonna do rattie? Call your rattie friends?" one of the punks jeered.

The rest of the crowd was getting restless. Claire had heard some people talk about small acts of vandalism around the caste grounds. Nothing too severe, and they'd been able to handle most of it without it getting the attention these youngsters so clearly craved. She moved close to what she identified as the ringleader for this particular group. She allowed herself to become visible when she had manoeuvred herself right behind him. "We invite you into our home, to enjoy our food, music, and art. Yet you insist on sowing discord." She grabbed firmly on to his shoulder, "How did you imagine this was going to play out for you?"

The lead punk stiffened at the presence. They were good at starting trouble, they weren't so good once it came back to them. "H... hey! Hey we... we didn't mean no-" he started, but then started to feel something building up. Like a pit in his stomach.

It had been some time since the Halloween surge and Claire had practiced bringing more people along with her as she transported. She had finally be able to hone her abilities enough that if she was in physical touch with someone she was able to take someone with her. It was harder with Cameron than it had been with someone more her own size. But this kid was not much taller than she was. The air sizzled around them and shadows enveloped the area they were in, a split second later a pop as both of them disappeared.

"-thing by it!" he continued, then when he returned to the here and now, he doubled over and nearly threw up. An effective technique to take out solo troublemakers, perhaps. But in the end, the guards there listened as Claire explained the situation, and they gave a nod. "Leave this one to us then, enjoy the night." and they moved to remove him from the premises.

Without their 'leader' the others were far less inclined to continue their heckling. Also, their 'leader' had just been swallowed up in darkness and whisked away. They were not too keen on following in his footsteps. By the time Claire got back, the crowd was starting to calm with Rebecca's insistence. "Nothing to worry about, just a good friend of mine removing troublemakers. Now, where were we?" the mousey blonde inquired rhetorically, ready to begin back again.

She'd have to thank Claire later.