Anxious

"And so when I was in France, Louis Napoleon was in power. He was a bit crazy, and as an English girl I has to be on my toes, but I was still able to blend in and learn the language."
Lotte sat in one of the cluttered art studios on one end of an easel. Paintbrush in hand, she steadily stroked the tip across the canvas, an image of Ethel forming along the rough leathery material. It was turning out pretty nice, despite the girl's more prominent role in photography. It was late in the afternoon and the sky had adopted a pink color, a shade resembling the clay rocks the girls knew well from living in Arizona. Lotte more than Ethel, of course. It wasn't long after they met that Lotte was shipped out to Beata. The girl was being told a story by her friend, a common occurrence amongst the two, but this time she wasn't listening. Her eyes were focused on the brush and her mind was focused on the future. In a way, both her outer self and he inner self were waiting for a picture to form, an image to show what was to come in the near moments of her life. Were these images going to turn out well? Lotte glances at a can of red paint beside the easel, and her heart fluttered with anxiety. When Ethel noticed her friend's unusual mien, she give her a disappointed look.
"What's the matter? Is it the mission?"
Lotte gave a small nod, not moving nor saying anything. Her mouth was a small downward curve.
"You get like this before every mission. It'll be fine."
Still no answer. Lotte focused on the painting, not looking at her friend. "I guess you're right." she said, giggling and feigning a smile. It must have been believable, for Ethel resumes her neutral visage as Lotte continued to paint.

For the record, just because you're in Autumn does not mean you're a naturally, well-rounded and talented artist. In this case, he was damn fine on the violin - if he said so himself - but don't expect him to be a Picasso of any sort. He'd taken a painting course himself that semester, expecting it to be an easy grade, but he found out it took way more time and effort than he would've liked. So here he was, having to use his free time to finish a piece of art he had procrastinated on for far too long.
With a small sigh, Jason pulled open the door to the studio, half-expecting it to be alone. He knew better than to be surprised at this point when he saw someone by the window, focused on their paintbrush and canvas. What he was mildly thrown off about was who it was, of all people, a familiar young woman with short hair - quietly giggling and seemingly talking to herself.
Jace smiled a bit, wondering if he should just ignore her and go fetch his own artwork, but what fun would that be? The blond shrugged off his blazer, tossing it onto the nearest chair and walking up behind her. "I can't tell what it is. Some sort of abstract work?" He mused, looking at the few red lines on the blank canvas, his voice light and teasing.

Lotte was a tad easy to scare. The girl was energetic, on her feet a lot and excitable. The downfall to this, however, was that she would be startled by any sudden noise. In this case, it was Jace. Lotte jumped a little, causing an error on her canvas. She frowned at it, edited it by bolding the line with more black paint, and feigned a pout. "You startled me." she said to the boy, a teasing solemnity in her tone. She continued with her painting, ignoring the peculiar line that she had to work around. "What are you doing here?"

Jason couldn't hold back a small laughter, rubbing the back of his head with his hand a bit loosely as she moved quickly to fix the error on her painting. "Did I?" He near sang back with a ring that near gave the sound of an apology, if the mischievous look on his face didn't completely ruin it. The young man took a few steps back, grabbing a small stool and pulling it up, he took a seat by her to watch her work. "Well, good 'ol Ms. Breton slapped a deadline on my artwork before the weekend." He huffed, recalling her stern words that she wanted his piece done before the big mission to Raleigh. He shrugged, "What about you? I thought you were a photographer."

"Ethel told me I couldn't paint her." said Lotte, not turning to him and focusing on her artwork. "I said, "Yeah I can." Then she said, "No you can't." Then I said, "Yeah I can." And now we are here." stated Lotte, tone rather serious for what she had been saying, as if the conversation did not offer any humor within its structure. Lotte ran the paintbrush through the valleys of Ethel's pale eyes, offering extra color to the colorless skin. Beside this area were two green orbs, which she had positioned so that they were watching her. There were two Ethels watching her.

Jason tilted his head at the painting, giving it a curious stare. "Huh. I always wondered what she looked like," He said, thinking aloud more than anything. The young man leaned forward, hovering with a determined look over the other Autumn's shoulder. "I always imagined her all white and whispy and - I 'dunno - victorian?" She looked more like an alter-ego of Lotte herself. It was in that moment that he suddenly become self-aware that Ethel was probably nearby, or he had stolen her seat again - like he had a bad habit of doing. Jace suddenly jumped up onto his feet, glancing around awkwardly as if maybe he could see her if he looked heard enough.

Lotte nodded. "You're practically correct." said she, painting over another barely noticeable error. This ended up making it a little more noticeable, causing Lotte to grimace and shut one eye, as to erase it from her mind. It worked, in a way, as she moved on to Ethel's dress, a vivid green.

As Jace shot up, Lotte laughed her childlike giggle, ceasing her painting for a brief moment to cover her mouth and keep the giggle to a small, close-mouthed chuckle. "How could I be painting her if I am not looking at her? She is over there on the stool, dumbass." said Lotte in a rather low voice, lowering her hand and once again painting. She began to feel a tad self conscious about being watched, and began to notice her errors again. Dammit, why wasn't paint erasable?

Jason suddenly stopped, looking back at the painter with a slightly worn expression. "Of course she is. The one time I'm mindful not to steal her seat." The Autumn let out an exhasperated sigh, running a few fingers through his hair. He thought about sitting back in the stool, but quickly changed his mind.

"I hope you're almost done with that," Jason called suddenly, moving through to the much-more messy back of the room. He climbed over a few things, accidently knocking a few brushes and cups unto the floor, before suddenly reappearing with a large canvas in his arms. He had a bit tougher time menuvering again out of there with his work. "You, dear Lotte, are going to help me finish this." After a min, he reappeared at her side with a huff.

OOC: i am assuming the side painted on is to his chest hue

It had caught both she and Ethel's attention. Her British friend had begun to strain her neck to catch a glimpse of what it might be. "Oooh. What is it? Let me see." urged the girl, looking away from her painting for the first time since Jace had gotten there. She placed a hand on the side of the canvas, as if she was about to turn it over, but didn't grant the hand much of her strength until she was sure Jace would resist. Lotte's trademark curiosity had shown in her eyes, and it failed to falter as she blinked.

Jace let out a small grin, a bit smug in the fact that - at least for the moment - he had this bit of stupid, pointless power over her. The young man held it close to him, his arms tight on both sides, just to be sure that both Lotte and Ethel couldn't try and sneak a peak. "No, no~." Jason sang, laughing a little, taking a step back so her hand had little choice but to let go and fall. "We had to find a picture to use for reference, so take a guess." His golden gaze caught her own, watching for any ideas or signs of frustration. He knew it would've been practically impossible for her to figure out, but that was the point of the fun.

"I hate guessing." was Lotte's impatient reply. Impatient yet curious, for Lotte's eyes were round as she wondered what it was. Was this referential picture famous, or was it something underground? Perhaps he was trying to steal her's! "If you are thinking of copying my picture of Ethel, you have another thing coming..." she murmured, her interest replaced with a look of annoyance. This visage appeared as if Lotte had already figured out the answer to her wonder. She crossed her arms irkedly.

He couldn't help but chuckle under his breath as he watched that oh-so familiar look of annoyance cross her face. "Don't worry about it, I wouldn't dare try and draw someone I couldn't even see. And it's a little too late to try and copy now." Jace shrugged, unable to wipe the smile off of his face. "I figured it'd be easier to pain if I could blend the colors like a blur - so..." He gave in and finally turned the canvas around for her to see. It was only half done, with the base colors laid down in a bunch of smears. Pinned in the top corner though was a strange picture. It was of a few horses, but the camera was at a weird angle, as if the photographer was falling back. Tan blurs took up a good portion of the shot, which he assumed was hay. Stealing was a bit of a harsh word, don't you think? It was more of - slipping a copy of a picture that was a mistake and putting good use to it (Since he doubted she would've done anything with it anyways). That sounded much more formal and nicer.

Lotte was surprised, but not filled with any anger or unpleasant feelings. The girl smiled a touched smile, a smile of sincere flattery and sincere happiness. Seeing a picture of hers being used for something beyond the camera gave her a new sense of self confidence. It had been a while since she picked up that camera...
"T-thanks, erm..." said the girl. "You could have stolen a better picture, though..."
She felt her hand go to her shoulder, her fingers trace down the blouse of her uniform.

That was far from the reaction that he'd been expecting, but then again Lotte always seemed to surprise him, no matter the situation. He tried to remember the last time she'd looked so cute. Jason's smug smile softened out of amusement, "Maybe, but this one was my favorite." The young man shrugged, "So, mind helping me?"

Lotte hesitated a moment before answering his request. "Well, I'm not very good at painting." she began, lowering her arm. "But if you are that bad that you need my help, then I must help the less fortunate."
Lotte went back to painting Ethel, finishing up her dress and adding features. It was a little rushed, for she was a little eager to paint her own work, but it still came out as decent as one would expect from the girl. When she finished, Lotte made the sound of a drumroll with her mouth, having both hands clutching the painting and a pathetic percussionist ability. She spun the painting around to Ethel after the suspense, who smiled. The smile resembled that of a teacher who was presented art by her second grade student. "It's lovely, madam!" was what she said.
Lotte grinned. "I know."