Of Mice and Roses

Posted on Sun Mar 30th, 2025 @ 21:04 by Rebecca McMillen & Alastair Temple

Chapter: Besieged
1762 words - 3.5 OF Standard Post Measure

Alastair burst into the Art classroom, right after hours, as the last students were just leaving. "Rebecca!" he called out, slowing down and composing himself, trying to appear in more control than he felt, though the look in his eyes and slightly ragged breathing told a different story. "I need your help!"

"Al! What is..." and then she stopped and quickly assessed the situation. Al was in trouble. Something was horribly wrong. "Oh my goodness, what is it!?" she began to join him in his anxiety, trying to keep it together long enough for the last student to be out of earshot before the contagious anxiety crossed over. Her thin tail started to wildly whip whip back and forth, everything about her almost coiled and ready to... well, ready to panic maybe. Or bolt. Bolting was nice.

"Uhm - " Al suddenly felt very silly, especially as it was easy to see that Rebecca had taken on some of the anxiety. He grinned a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck a bit as he explained. "I, uh - ... I have a date tonight, and uh - ... Figured I needed some roses. You know, to make it a bit more romantic. But they're out of season and I can't go get any, so I was hoping you might - like - draw or paint me some. Like on a carboard standee, something like that. Think you could help me out here?"

Rebecca almost twitched. "I.. you just.... wait, Flowers?! I thought someone got hurt!" She motioned wide as she practically squeaked. She closed her eyes and took a breath. Ten, nine, eight... and with an exhale she was better. Well, less bad. "You just need flowers." she repeated. She wasn't upset, just coming down off a racing heart and anxiety. "I could do something for you. That's.... that's no problem. Just gimme a minute. Gotta push my heart down my throat." she smiled, but her tail was still twitchy twitchy. After about a minute, she was less twitchy. "So, a date, eh? Nice, nice. Anyone I know?" she teased as she went through some cardstock to find something with the right sound. Giving each a wobble to make that glorious pseudo thunder rumble.

"I should hope so, she works here," Al replied readily, not quitecatching on that she was just teasing. Relaxing more as Rebecca did as well and watching her work, testing all the cardboard for the right wobble. "Err, sorry for scaring you. Was not my intention. I'm just - well, excited, you know?"

With satisfactory cardboard and cardstock paper selected, she moved to address the paints. The obvious choices: Reds, pinks, greens.... but also she picked a bright blue. Possibly for a background. "You're alright. Someone bursts into my classroom like they're being chased and... well, just the conclusion I draw. You're good." he wasn't responsible for her memories. "So, is she a secret? Who is she? I don't normally see you so animated." Her own dating life had been nonexistent, so she was genuinely happy that SOMEONE in this world got a piece of happiness.

"Well, with the current situation and everything that's been going one, someone runs in yelling your name, saying they need your help - it's an understandable reaction," he was glad she was taking it so well. Part of him still felt bad though. At her question he pondered for a moment. It was no secret - in fact, he knew that students had been whispering about them for some time already, and what with the press - albeit not the mainstream press - taking an interest now as well - no. It wasn't a secret. Not in the least. "It's Li. We've - ... she's - ... We've been getting close, and - well - moving forward a bit now. Trying to do this right, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." she didn't.

"But still I wanna wish you luck. I'm.... not the best person to come to for dating help. My last 'Boyfriend' was a Ken doll." she grumbled, bad memories. Nevertheless, she found the paints and paper she wanted, so she gently taped the cardstock to the cardboard with some painter's tape and started her work. The blue was, indeed, for the background of the piece. "Everyone deserves happiness, Al. I'm glad you're getting close to finding i- I AM NOT!" she turned towards a shelf of supplies, where a large rat had taken residence. It seemed pleased with itself, hardly flinching from Rebecca's sudden outburst. "Fourteen, what would ever make you say THAT?! I.... I'm sorry, Al. Someone's a chatterbox today." she implied the rat in question. Its work done, it scampered down off the shelf and into the ventilation system.

"So, one single rose, or a bouquet?" Smoooooooooth Rebecca. Al wouldn't suspect a thing.

"Uh - I, err ... hadn't gotten that far yet," Al admitted. He sat down on the edge of a desk, relaxing, watching Critter work. "I'm thinking maybe a vase with three or four roses? Nothing very fancy, just - you know, for atmosphere," he said, hoping he wasn't imposing too much. "So what's Fourteen on about?"

She picked up another tube, white paint this time, and set about some work on the vase. "Fourteen.... thought that I, was jealous. Which I am not." she pointed out. "Your a good friend, and I value what few friendships I actually have." she continued. "Like I said before, my dating life was abysmal, and I'm not actively in the market, as they say. So I hope a certain someone is fine with processed cheese because she.. is on the list." Rebecca was certainly skilled in her trade, working the greens to form the stems of the roses, then switching to the white to form the reflection of a glass vase. Dragging the green a bit to distort the visual, much like how actual glass would.

"I wasn't on the market either. At least, not actively. These things just - happen. At least, it did for me," Al replied quietly. He was content to watch the master at work. The mistress at work? No, that sounded wrong. The crafts - ... woman ply her trade. That worked. It had always been fascinating to him, watching someone do what they were good at. He could spend hours just doing that. And had, in the past. Bonuspoints for creatives, like McMillen. "I owe you one, for doing this for me."

"I, and my rat empire, will lord it over you forever." casual delivery, smooth but clinically sarcastic. She smirked, leaning in close for the finer details. Normally, she'd shrink down and just handle the up-close work personally but that might seem a bit much for just a simple favor. Portrait work, sure, but this was casual. Something, though, that demanded her full attention. She switched brushes, and switched to the reds. "You'll let me know how it turns out? At least before the gossip train." Was it true, that love could just... bloom? The heavy presence outside, the barricade, the registration outpost, the flashing lights. This felt more and more like a battlefield than a school. Than a home. She hoped Al was right. That these things could just... happen.

"Well, I owe you a favor as long as it's not too embarassing," Beat. "Or gross. Ew," he shuddered, though with a cheeky smirk, showing he was just kidding. For now though, he simply watched her work, enjoying the process. Things she did where he thought 'there's no way that's gonna look good', and then through the magic of blending, it did. What she was painting was not a vase with roses, but a representation of a vase of roses. Too close and you'd see fields and brush strokes of colors, but from a short distance they melded into a coherent whole - but more than that, the painting seemed to come alive.

"I'll make sure it's nothing you'll regret." she commented before she focused in on the task. Blending, layering, colors and shades, tints and hues. Her brush slid across the cardstock. Dabs, flicks, different brushes and techniques. Where Al's kingdom was music, this was her kingdom. Color. Brushstrokes.

It took a bit of work, though a good project demands taking time. No true project would be complete until the paint you use was also on your hands, and Rebecca had spots of color on her palm and her fingertips. "There. Give it a bit to dry, and then it's good to go. How's that?" she inquired as she stepped aside to formally present the painting.

It had taken some time, but Al was still impressed by the speed at which Rebecca got this done. True, it was no dramatic, narrative, museum worthy masterpiece and it was a rather small painting at that, but it still looked great. "I'm - the wrong person to ask about art, but it looks very good to me," he replied, before motioning at her arm. "You've got red on you."

"Nonsense, you don't need to know about something to admire it." she mentioned, already looking for the dabble of color on her. "Artists wear their art. Though, seeing red on someone tends to get people thinking the wrong thing. Good eye." she went over to grab a scrap rag and started to take care of the escaping blob of color. "Give it another minute to set and then she's all yours. Or her's really." a smile. Another scrub, "I'm a bloody murder scene, I am. I'll wash it up later, no rush. Just should handle it before tomorrow. Last thing I need is the kids to worry."

"Yeah, legit. Though I probably started some rumors just now barging in and saying I needed some help while students were still filing out," he considered feeling bad about that but thought better of it, seeing the humor in the situation as well. "For now though, thank you so much," as he carefully reached for the finished product, taking care to take it by the edge where there was no paint. He's let it dry for a few hours, then cut it out along the edges and make a standee. "Now to make a playlist. I'm sure I've got some classical CDs and tapes to pick and choose from," he added with a smile, standing up from the desk.

She just gave a smirk, amused, "I'll cover, you run off and have a good date." she teased. "And, you're welcome. Now, go out there and good luck."