Verdy had overheard a few of the younger mutants chatting about art class over breakfast, and it reminded her that she had been meaning to increase her skills with a pencil for some time. Occasionally, stick-figures just didn’t cut it in the doodling department, and she really needed to advance past the macarooni collage stage. So, once she had finished her pancakes (banana, delicious, the mansion cooks had really outdone themselves this morning) she decided to try and find the art teacher, to see if she could enrol in a class.

After some asking around, a little research and some wandering back and forth, she was fairly confident she had found his office, and had a vague idea of his name too. So, after checking her watch to make sure it was an appropriate amount of time before class, but not too early, she rat-a-tat-ed on the door. With any luck, he would be in and she could sign straight up, she wasn’t sure if taking the online classes meant she wasn’t eligible for the practical subjects like art or cooking. It couldn’t hurt to ask though, and if he said it wasn’t possible, there were bound to be classes that just anybody could enrol in that weren’t part of the mansion’s curriculum.

In the moments before the door opened she checked her clothes and shoes. Her shirt was sitting well enough, her jeans were a tad too tight (her own fault, for having too many banana pancakes) but they were clean, and her shoes were matching and far from the fluffy slippers she sometimes wore around the mansion. When asking a favour, or trying to enrol in something, it pays to be presentable.

It was a slow afternoon for Nate, who was taking advantage of the long weekend to prepare all the paperwork from his personal and professional lives. As a teacher, he was still working in end of the semester assignments and progress reports, as well as supply request forms to restock the class after a semester of use and mutant-related occurrences. Personally, he had paperwork for rent and bills. He still had plenty of money from some of his more expensive commissions, but it was still a relatively new stress living a legitimate life financially for once.

The rapping at his office door was a surprise with most of the staff and many of the students away for the long weekend. Considering it could be one of his students who remained at the Mansion, he arose from his desk and opened the door.

Instead of a recognizable teenage or child-like face, Nate found a young woman, possibly college age, looking back at him. He had a pretty good memory for the students in his classes, and the girl with the black and green hair was not a recognizable one. "Um, I'm sorry; can I help you?"

The door opened, and the man before her looked the way she imagined an art teacher should. Clean, but a little scruffy, not too old, nor too young, late twenties, maybe thirty. Then again, with the number of mutants with age-shifting powers, he could be anywhere from five to a thousand, she was fleetingly reminded of Hunter, who looked barely older than this man, yet had been around since, and was one of the causes of, the early vampire myths and legends. In the mansion as much as it pays to be presentable, it is equally dangerous to judge someone else on appearance.

He excused himself in the form of a question, she wasn’t quite sure why, it was she who had knocked on his office door, after all, but she understood what he was asking.

“Oh, hi, my name is Verdigris, I was wondering if you were the person to see about enrolling in art class?”

If he wasn’t she had guessed wrong, and there was a certain glue-making mutant she’d like to set straight about misleading people, but perhaps he could point her in the right direction. Would an art class at the mansion be any different to an art class anywhere else? Would the use of mutations be encouraged, not allowed, or somewhere in between? She vaguely wondered if her mutation could even be put to use artistically, perhaps if she held and shot paintballs against a canvas? Or maybe she could form some kind of hand-hose, and drizzle paint around. That, from what she remembered from the art gallery she had visited once, was considered rather artistic.

The girl's appearance made much more sense when she explained her reason for seeking Nate out. He had not forgotten a student's face because this Verdigris girl was a perspective student. "Well, I'm the Mansion's Art Instructor, so I would think so." He offered a hand in introduction and smiled. "Mister Holloway. Nice to meet you, Verdigris."

He stepped back into the office, gesturing or her to enter as well. She was certainly older than most of his students, which made him wonder if it was weird to only give her his last name? Was that protocol not as necessary for a possible adult? He was still figuring out how exactly to go about the etiquette of being a multi-grade teacher.

He took his seat and waited for her to sit across the desk from him. "Well, in terms of 'classes,' we are rather late in the semester, and we don't have a true art class for... college-age students? At the moment." He was still not sure where she would fall; some girls looked years older at the Mansion, and some were years younger, so it was always safe to ask.

"With that in mind, there are private lessons." Admittedly the lessons required more prep for him, but the students could learn more, and there was a small fee to compensate. "Is that something that might interest you?"

Oh good, he was the right person. While she was not unfamiliar with awkward situations, where she fumbled over someone’s name, or confused someone’s boyfriend for her ex-boss, it was always a relief when the person she expected, was the person she expected. Mr Holloway, she noted, not a difficult name, she would try not to forget it. She shook his hand, not too tight or long, but not floppily enough to be rude, a good handshake meant a lot when meeting someone, even more so when in the mansion, and they could be reading your soul with the slightest touch.

She entered his office, which was nice and relatively tidy, and took a seat opposite the teacher while he explained the classes. He seemed to fumble over her age for a second, and she was reminded of her own hesitance when it came to face-to-age matching. Would being in a lower grade than her age put her at a disadvantage in the class?

“I’m college age, but I only did school until sophomore year, I’ve been doing classes online and I’m almost finished senior year, but I don’t really know if that changes anything? Private lessons sound good, actually, I’m usually at work during school hours, but maybe if you were available in the afternoon or evening?”

Early morning would work too, but she was rather a night owl, and getting up any time before she had to to be at work on time made for a grouchy (and she doubted artistic) Verdy. Regardless of when they held the lessons, there was bound to be some sort of supplies she needed, perhaps he had a list or something, to give to prospective students?

“Is there anything specific I would need to bring?”

Nate was right with his age estimation, but the girl apparently had a story behind her that kept her from completing her schooling. It was a secret to everyone else for obvious reasons, but Nate was in a similar boat, self-educating for most of his life.

Verdigris opted for the private lessons. Since she was technically a high school-level student, she could have fit into a class, but she could most likely get a better, less awkward artistic education without the less mature students around. "Nights work just fine for me. Just email your availability to me and I'd gladly set some time aside for you," he promised with a smile, handing her a card with his professional number and email address.

It was nice to see Verdigris doing her best to enter the lessons prepared. "No no, we've got supplies enough for classes and lessons here, so you'll be fine. There's just a small fee for the lessons, if that's fine." The fee was also on the business card, and it was a rather manageable price, and even negotiable for some of the students who were not as financially independent.

"Before the lessons start, I'll need to know what you're interested in, and what level we're starting at. Are you thinking of sketching, painting, or anything else?" Normally students looked into private lessons when they wanted to obtain a more specific skill, so there was no point in planning general lessons. "And what would you say is your skill level?"

He gave her a card with all the information she would need on it, and offered her his evenings. She would have to check up on her calendar, and make sure that she was free one evening a week for at least the next few weeks, but she was pretty confident. Aside from work and online study (both of which were mainly done in the day) and walking Jack, she was pretty much free, hence why she was taking classes to improve herself and use up some of her free time.

“That seems reasonable, do you prefer cash up front? Or does it go through the mansion?”

She wasn’t certain how the teacher’s salaries were organised at the mansion, or if private lessons were a different source of income, but she was happy to pay lesson by lesson, all out up front, cash or direct bank deposit. All in all, she was pretty good with however the pay needed to happen.

“Ah, mostly sketching, and I’m pretty bad, I mean, I can draw a mean stick-man, but that’s about it. I’ve been doing some leatherwork recently, so my hand-eye co-ordination isn’t bad, its just translating that into recognisable shapes on paper that needs work.”

And there is only so much you can learn from you-tube videos, which mainly focussed on improving skills, rather than starting right out from the beginning.

She was glad the mansion would provide (as usual), but she was also planning to get some bits and pieces to practice out of class hours too, so a sketchbook and pencils were the most she would need she guessed.

When someone casually tossed around the words "stick-man" in a description of their drawing ability, it was a good sign that lessons were going to start at square one and move on from there. It would not be a problem, considering his recent experience teaching across several levels of experience, but it was a surprise to see someone so new to art taking a chance on lessons.

Her rationale for applying leatherworking skills to art was unique, but he was a an of her enthusiasm regardless. "Well, it may not be easy, but I'll do my best to help you draw things with a bit more depth than stick-people," he promised.

"As for payment, just bring cash or a check to the first class. You can pay as you go or all at once, whatever works best for you." Nate liked to believe his payment plan methodology was a fair and forgiving one. He just wanted to get some compensation for his time; the more important goal was teaching something.

With a satisfied grin, his hand reached over the table for a handshake to seal the deal. "So get back to me with dates and I'll see you then?"

Continued in Atsy-Fartsy