Beautiful Bakas Academy IC

Faul giggled with delight as Louis faltered her shamelessly. She loved it to no end. His attention was favored over all others, and it angered to see him flatter girls so much closer to his age. 'Lou-Kun watch your eyes! They are only for me!' she screamed inside, but was pleasant and kind outside. One should not delve into the thoughts of that young girl, for what they would find are only that of one so self-absorbed. He would not care for her so if he knew that she wished a way that his eyes were only for her, or risk losing them. Or would any look at her the same if they knew how she thought to remove the faces of others so pretty and young. Faul would claim to love him, love Louis, but would one in love wish harm on them or their associates. Faul tried to claim to know love, and she did, but it was only self-love. For in her world, she was the center. There was no compassion in this girl, only lies. Beautiful lies, that was all she was. She had driven her mother away because her attention did not focus on Faul. She was the embodiment of jealousy and vanity.

But they didn't know that side of her, so she would keep up her act. "Lou-Kun! Let's go! I am so hungry." She pulled the boy away, giving the girl who spoke to only a glace. She quickly got her meal and rushed back out to reinsert herself in the middle of attention. She sat and began to eat, attempting to make it cute. Honestly, eating is rarely cute, but Faul would find away. "So what do we all have for first class?" Faul asked as she struggled to find something to talk about that would bring attention to herself. "I have dance class first! Today we will be delving into ballet!"
 
Ambros shrugged at the thought that Dance was heading into ballet. It was elegant and classy, and required a good body, but it was too feminine for Ambros. Another reason he played Cello is because it was the most masculine of elegant strings. He was a grand soloist, and specialized in certain cinematic pieces, like The Godfather Waltz, and the oft used in historical epics, Ride of the Valkyries. The quick notes were a forte of his. He played quick and clean, or slow and low. One extreme or the other, and he could solo. Otherwise, he was just the first seat Cellist, as he could play many scales, he was just better at the extremes.

We're blazing off track. Let's realign. "Well, first, I have my Sketch class. I find I pencil down my visions more oft then not. I have Dance, advantageously, after the lunch break. I don't participate much in the ballet unit." He gave a shrug and kicked the ground, glad to have his mental subject changed.
 
Louis felt like a dandelion seed in the breeze, to put his emotions into a poetic sense like Ambros often did. The wind wills of those around controlled where he flew. For example, Faul's pull towards food was a lot stronger than Kathedra's question. While Louis adored being with Faul, it seemed rude to so abruptly leave Kathedra. This created a small dilemma for Louis: he had to gentlemanly towards all girls, yet in this situation it proved to very difficult. Now he was back at the table, and Faul was eating, he tried to regain a little control to please everybody. "Right now we are eating here, Kathedra. And don't worry, even on an off day you still look charming" Louis complimented lately, taking a close seat beside Faul, "I have photography class next, Fau-chan, but I doubt I shall do as well in it as you shall in ballet. You have the grace of the most elegant swan, Fau-chan! Oh, and Tamsin, if you desire I could show you some pictures of birds of prey from one of my previous photography lessons. I know your stunning self truly likes birds of prey." Finally, after his little speech, Louis had a chance to breath. He'd left out Ambros, but as the dignified man he was, Louis was sure he'd be fine. Maybe Ambros would artistically appreciate Louis' words...or not.

((OOC: Googling synonymous for beautiful. I need more adjectives!))
 
As the others all stated their next classes with clear joy, or at least some level of enthusiasm, Tamsin wondered if perhaps it was not normal to have such distaste for the frivolity of this life. Of course she enjoyed playing as part of an orchestra, as well as the ocassional sketch of something that caught her eye, but none of it really mattered, did it? There was also the matter of her secret love affair with folk music. It was probably blasphemy for a violinist to wish to play the fiddle, but there we have it. There was little the girl could do to change herself. It was unlikely she would do so anyway, given the choice.

Pulling herself out of these potentially darkening thoughts, Tamsin spoke up, "I've been asked to join the painting class this morning. I haven't been participating enough." A statement of fact. Tamsin disliked that she had seemingly offended one of the art teachers by not enrolling in his class, particularly when she did so enjoy sketching on ocassion, and so when approached, the girl had hastily offered to join the painting fraternity. Perhaps something good would come of it. Who knew what the future would hold.

"If it wouldn't be any trouble, that would be lovely." The girl spoke to Louis, smiling slightly. She did enjoy those birds very much. They had a grace about them that no other group of animals could ever match.
 
"Louis, your attempt at being poetic has not gone unnoticed. Poetic cliches, such as elegance of a swan, should be avoided. And try to let your words flow quickly. 'Stunning self' has a bit of a blocky feel to it, don't you think?" He gave a smile at his friend. Was he trying to imitate? That was flattering to Ambros. "Might I ask why you're being so poetic? Just to sate my curiosity." His smile turned into a bit of a smirk, giving away his ulterior motivation behind the question. Not that he was very self-absorbed, but that doesn't mean he couldn't feel good when people tried to be like him.

He sighed and his smile returned to his usual one when he remembered that Tamsin was so eager to spend time with Louis. Ah, the price of friendship. "I have Literary Aesthetics after Sketch. Louis, if you want to learn to speak as a bard, I suggest taking that class. It bores me to tears, but that's because I haven't heard anything I don't already know yet." He looked up dreamily and started muttering something about how bored he was in that class. "Anyway," he said, regaining his attention to the group, "After that, I have Philosophy. We're reading The Prince by Machiavelli, and I see where the man's coming from. This school is a grand example of what he means. Money is power and the rich are greedy. Most of the people here are glutted monsters for this reason."
 
"But Ambros, being a gentleman is full of cliches. Though your advice wouldn't go unappreciated, since literature certainly isn't my forte. And my slightly poetic speech was so you didn't feel as if I'd forgotten you, or left you out," Louis explained, returning the smile, "I shall find the pictures for you then, dear Tasmin."It made Louis deeply happy he shared the same interest with a friend. But as far as birds went, Faul still had the greatest wings to soar upon.((OOC: Its as if its illegal to say a girls name without an adjectives.))
 
Ambros shook his head, finally letting up his smile. "Louis, a cliche is defined as an expression overused to the point of losing its meaning. In this day and age, being a gentleman is rare, and thus, far from being considered a cliche." He looked up and noted that the light fixtures had recently been replaced.

"Let me shed light on this for you
Because whatever it is you do
You must always make sure
That even if you become poor

To achieve singularity
And create disparity
Because if everyone's the same
Then everyone's to blame"

A single thought turned into a poem.
 
Faul began to feel that the conversation was steering too far from herself. Though the conversation was interesting and the compliments flattering, as intended, Faul found it her duty to redirect it towards herself. She finished her meal quickly and put her dishes away. "A great poem Ambros," she praised on return. "But 'sure' and 'poor' don't rhyme," Faul nit-picked. "Oh, that reminds me! For theater we are doing Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream! And I play the role of Titania, the queen of fairies!" Faul said with much pride and joy in her voice. "At first they were going to let one of the older girls play Titania, but after seeing my acting skills, decided to make me Titania!" she was giggling with glee. That mater of role change had been recent, and confused things, but Faul refused to play the role of a mere servant, and she was more fitting for the role.

"I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again:
Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note;
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;
And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me
On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee."

Faul recited her part near flawlessly, though there was doubt if she truly knew what she was saying, or even if she knew that her love was to be an ass. She had not cared to delve far into her characters story, only bothered to learn her parts. Faul could have been a great actress, but failed to seek understanding. Without knowing her character, she could not convey the feelings as they were. She could pretend, but not feel, so it was empty. If she cared to discover the past and personality of her role, she would become great, but Faul thought that all she needed was the lines and the right inflection.

But besides all that, if she had troubled herself to actually care about the story, she might not have been as excited to play Titania. Then again, that was another separation from herself, the character, and a true actress; she could not become Titania, and submerge herself into the world, she only played and pretended.

((One of my favorite plays! We did a shorter, abridged version at school, and I played Titania!))
 
What?

That ignorant little something-or-other! What does she know of Poetry? What does she know of Literary Aesthetics? Sure and Poor rhyme, or at least the way Ambros said them, and he would not accept that she was being such an illiterate little girl! And even in the way most others said them, they were still near rhymes, and were acceptable for poetic compliance with each other.

He had managed to fume while Faul was explaining her Theatre situation, completely ignoring her words. If he had noticed, he might've complimented her. "Sure and poor don't rhyme? Are you certain? Listen to the words coming from my mouth. Sure. Poor. Sure. Poor. You see? There are various ways to pronounce certain words, and when used in rhyming poetry, you should use the form that makes a rhyme. Pronounce 'sure'," he pronounced it the way it "Shurr" this time, to emphasize, "As 'sure'," he finished, pronouncing at as "Shoor". One could tell by his tone and the rapidity of his speaking that he was irritated. Never insult a proud English-speaker's literacy at the slightest.
 
As Faul so enthusiastically talked about herself, Tamsin listened, enjoying the girls vivacity for a time, though it did at times seem too much to bear. Had she been in the company of the girl throughout the day, it was likely that it would have grown tiring. However, for now it was just pleasant to see a level of self assurance and confidence that she would never achieve, and few others would either.

Unfortunately, it was shortly after this thatTamsin wished the ground would swallow her up. If Louis didn't step in soon, it appeared that the slightly petulant young girl and the young man so full of pride would come to an outright argument. At least the two had manners enough not to come to blows, that was the only blessing of the situation. Still, it made the fiery haired girl feel somewhat worried, as well as pressured. She wanted to defuse the situation before too much transpired, and so took it upon herself to speak.

"Even if the words don't rhyme, does it really matter? Some of the best poetry is comprised of half rhymes and words that hardly seem to relate at all." She spoke quickly, and made sure to phrase her opinion in such a way as to not take sides. Both could be right, although it had to be said that in this case Ambros was absolutely correct. Still, Tamsin did not voice this, not wishing to make enemies.
 
Kathedra listened in, but she was silent. Her violin was a 1st thing on the list for her mom of her three talents and acting was her mom's last. It made her very sad, though she loved it she never preformed before, just practiced. She would audition but then her mom would scold her with harsh words. She wanted to do a school play but how could she? Kath (as she is sometimes called -kay-th) was jealous of Faul and anyone else who could act without being scolded.
 
Faul was still absorbed in her own world, "We will be performing the play at the up-town theater, and all the school is invited! I do hope you all come!" She then was abruptly pulled from it when Ambros decided to take her criticism to another level. She turned to him with a hidden glare, 'I am right...' Her hands were postured on her hips, and she waited for Ambros to finish. Then, before she could say anything else, Tamsin had to jump in, with her small, frightened voice. Faul could see and hear how carefully she picked her words, as not to incur anyone's wrath, but by doing so, she had gotten Faul's. 'Oh yeas, play neutral. We all know you are behind Ambros, you silly girl.'

But no matter how sour Faul felt, she tried to keep civil, for appearances sake. "Ambros, I was only trying to give 'constructive criticism.' Isn't that what artists look for, so they may be come better?" she said as sweetly as she could, giving him sad puppy eyes.
 
Ambros kept a straight face and looked down forebodingly at the girl. "I don't need criticism from some obnoxious twit who knows nothing of how to write the play she acts. You're in no place to give me any sort of criticism, regardless of your credentials." Harsh words from such a gentleman. But he would not let it come to blows, at least. Even if she started to hit him, he would just restrain her.

As he looked at her, he recalled his vision, and saw that her skin was getting darker, and her halo had fallen off entirely. Dark tendrils weaved from her hair and fingers. When she opened her mouth, a blade drew from her throat. "And you say she sides with me, then so be it, but it's not unjust. The evidence is obvious, and you're so stuck-up, you refuse to see it. Look me in the eyes and tell me you're wrong, and we can forget this whole ordeal."
 
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