Saun 25, 716
Was this even Saun? Caius had been in Viden for two seasons now and yet the landscape of snow and ice and dark rock hardly shifted, hardly changed. The temperatures hardly fluctuated outside of the comfortable zone of freezing, even when the light of the suns lasted longer and longer, there seemed to be nothing in all of Idalos that could bring warmth to the far North. Even the Gawyne had to admit, the chill got sarding old, no matter how cold his homeland could be, nothing had prepared him for feeling this half-frozen for an entire arc.
Strangely enough, however, the Videnese felt the subtle hints of the hot cycle in ways beyond Caius' Rynmere born-human biology, and when his Life Drawing professor had decided the weather was somehow fair enough to go outside and draw, the entire class went outside to draw without questions asked.
Bogs, it was almost tolerable, the temperatures reminiscent of a Gawyne mid-winter, and the northern noble found himself miraculously able to stand in the hard-packed layer of snow of the courtyard next to The Azure Wing with his classmates without gloves and coat, though he was still dressed in two layers of wool and cotton shirts and a scarf for good measure, his toes cold despite his wool socks worn under his knee-high boots and thick leather breeches. Each student had carried their own easel and canvas, assigned oil pastels and charcoal for sketching, and told to set up on the frozen landscape to find something worth capturing with their own particular, individual creative vision.
Thank the Seven the Videnese appreciated the arts, cultivating a rich culture of allowing an artist to discover their own voice. Perhaps with the landscape so bleak, encouraging a rich inner life was really the best practice anyway, Caius blossoming in his two seasons as a student to feel comfortable with his own creative expression. While he didn't consider himself at all very strong at drawing, he'd set a goal to work at realism, to improve his technique.
This class in particular had been an uncomfortable challenge, but he also didn't feel as though the professor appreciated the northern noble's crass sense of humor one bit.
Standing in the sparkling, bright Saun cold near two of his other classmates, the young Gawyne sketched with questionable confidence with the dark charcoal, sharp blue eyes studying the icy spires of Viden proper as they reflected the hot cycle suns back into the sky. His perspective felt off, and while he worked carefully with light, gentle lines, he chewed his bottom lip in displeasure. Stepping back with a sigh, he watched the cloud of his breath dissipate while he rubbed his coal-darkened hands together and squinted critically at the sketch, comparing the actual spires with his renditions.
Better, perhaps.
He'd just begun to add shadows with his oil pastels, filling in the darkest areas before he planned to build in color and light, when his professor cleared her throat, the older Eídisi raising her hand to get her class' attention,
"Well, students, that's all we have time for today. You're free to remain as you are for as long as you like so long as you're not missing another class and you return your easels to their proper places." Internally, Caius groaned. He didn't quite feel ready to wrap up what he was doing at all, no matter how sarding cold it was. Maybe another half a break or so would leave him satisfied, and so he hovered even as most of the class, a mix of humans and Eídisi and a lone Sev'ryn packed up their things and began to file back to the Azure Wing, following after their professor.
Four of them remained, scattered over the frozen landscape of the courtyard, Caius included.
"Are you staying?" Came a quiet question over his shoulder, Rylan's delicate voice interrupting the young Gawyne without apology. The Eídisi male was a decade his elder and a full head taller than himself, and while he was very opinionated on whether or not the Rynmere human could actually exceed his own artistic talents, the two had become friends over the past two seasons, sharing most of their classes.
"For a little while longer, yes. Yourself?"
"While the sun is as it is, I am." Rylan confirmed, stepping back to his easel. His tone was always hushed and matter-of-fact, the blue-skinned young male and his dark almost sea-blue hair a much more thoughtful, abstract artist than the young Gawyne, "And after?"
"I don't know. I can wait for you. though. I've got reading to do, but when don't I have something to sarding read?" Caius smirked, not looking at the Eídisi as he selected another blue to begin adding more color to the spires, overlapping the lighter color with some of his shadows to blend them in where he saw a gradient and yet leaving the harsh icy lines that the spires were built from.
"Mateo and Esine are going out drinking tonight—"
"No."
"—Come on, I don't want to be the third wheel again, Caius. We're friends and all, but I could use a wingman, too, sometimes."
The northern noble laughed, coarse and loud, "You can't use my pretty, well-bred face to get you attention all the time, Rylan. There's other humans to play your idiot for talking up other blue-skinned ladies."
"I can. And I will. You're my favorite human idiot, Lord Gawyne. Or else I'll stop sharing my notes from Professor Unolar's Art History. I know you nap in there half the time."
"Sod off."
"Come on, say you'll go."
Caius scowled, pausing again in his drawing, in the pastel work that was finally pleasing his sensibilities. It wasn't half bad, but Rylan was persistent and the northern noble shrugged,
"You're buying—"
Strangely enough, however, the Videnese felt the subtle hints of the hot cycle in ways beyond Caius' Rynmere born-human biology, and when his Life Drawing professor had decided the weather was somehow fair enough to go outside and draw, the entire class went outside to draw without questions asked.
Bogs, it was almost tolerable, the temperatures reminiscent of a Gawyne mid-winter, and the northern noble found himself miraculously able to stand in the hard-packed layer of snow of the courtyard next to The Azure Wing with his classmates without gloves and coat, though he was still dressed in two layers of wool and cotton shirts and a scarf for good measure, his toes cold despite his wool socks worn under his knee-high boots and thick leather breeches. Each student had carried their own easel and canvas, assigned oil pastels and charcoal for sketching, and told to set up on the frozen landscape to find something worth capturing with their own particular, individual creative vision.
Thank the Seven the Videnese appreciated the arts, cultivating a rich culture of allowing an artist to discover their own voice. Perhaps with the landscape so bleak, encouraging a rich inner life was really the best practice anyway, Caius blossoming in his two seasons as a student to feel comfortable with his own creative expression. While he didn't consider himself at all very strong at drawing, he'd set a goal to work at realism, to improve his technique.
This class in particular had been an uncomfortable challenge, but he also didn't feel as though the professor appreciated the northern noble's crass sense of humor one bit.
Standing in the sparkling, bright Saun cold near two of his other classmates, the young Gawyne sketched with questionable confidence with the dark charcoal, sharp blue eyes studying the icy spires of Viden proper as they reflected the hot cycle suns back into the sky. His perspective felt off, and while he worked carefully with light, gentle lines, he chewed his bottom lip in displeasure. Stepping back with a sigh, he watched the cloud of his breath dissipate while he rubbed his coal-darkened hands together and squinted critically at the sketch, comparing the actual spires with his renditions.
Better, perhaps.
He'd just begun to add shadows with his oil pastels, filling in the darkest areas before he planned to build in color and light, when his professor cleared her throat, the older Eídisi raising her hand to get her class' attention,
"Well, students, that's all we have time for today. You're free to remain as you are for as long as you like so long as you're not missing another class and you return your easels to their proper places." Internally, Caius groaned. He didn't quite feel ready to wrap up what he was doing at all, no matter how sarding cold it was. Maybe another half a break or so would leave him satisfied, and so he hovered even as most of the class, a mix of humans and Eídisi and a lone Sev'ryn packed up their things and began to file back to the Azure Wing, following after their professor.
Four of them remained, scattered over the frozen landscape of the courtyard, Caius included.
"Are you staying?" Came a quiet question over his shoulder, Rylan's delicate voice interrupting the young Gawyne without apology. The Eídisi male was a decade his elder and a full head taller than himself, and while he was very opinionated on whether or not the Rynmere human could actually exceed his own artistic talents, the two had become friends over the past two seasons, sharing most of their classes.
"For a little while longer, yes. Yourself?"
"While the sun is as it is, I am." Rylan confirmed, stepping back to his easel. His tone was always hushed and matter-of-fact, the blue-skinned young male and his dark almost sea-blue hair a much more thoughtful, abstract artist than the young Gawyne, "And after?"
"I don't know. I can wait for you. though. I've got reading to do, but when don't I have something to sarding read?" Caius smirked, not looking at the Eídisi as he selected another blue to begin adding more color to the spires, overlapping the lighter color with some of his shadows to blend them in where he saw a gradient and yet leaving the harsh icy lines that the spires were built from.
"Mateo and Esine are going out drinking tonight—"
"No."
"—Come on, I don't want to be the third wheel again, Caius. We're friends and all, but I could use a wingman, too, sometimes."
The northern noble laughed, coarse and loud, "You can't use my pretty, well-bred face to get you attention all the time, Rylan. There's other humans to play your idiot for talking up other blue-skinned ladies."
"I can. And I will. You're my favorite human idiot, Lord Gawyne. Or else I'll stop sharing my notes from Professor Unolar's Art History. I know you nap in there half the time."
"Sod off."
"Come on, say you'll go."
Caius scowled, pausing again in his drawing, in the pastel work that was finally pleasing his sensibilities. It wasn't half bad, but Rylan was persistent and the northern noble shrugged,
"You're buying—"
❦