Players:
Summary: Hosea and Elizabeth meet for the first time in the Art Room.
Date: June 3, 2010.
Log Title Land of the Free and Home of the Brave
Rating: G
Xavier Mansion - Art Room
The Art Room has pictures of classic artists and small sculptures of famous pieces of art around the room. Any art supply you need may be found in this room, a large variety of paints, charcoals, markers, pencils, clays, canvases, easels, paper, and much more are accessible for the students. A large kelm is in one of the far corners of the room as well. On one side of the art room are a few sewing machines with a large variety of fabrics and sewing supplies for the students as well.
Tucked away in the corner of the art room, a large canvas between her and the door, Elizabeth stares out of the window intensely. Every now and again she turns and adds a few minute dabs of paint to the canvas or sip at a cup of tea that probably went cold hours ago, before turning her focus back out to whatever has captured her attention in the world outside.
He ducks his head as he enters the room, Hosea Ikbuku. His wild dark hair and toothy grin already present, and he's not even talking to anyone yet. He looks around the art room, not having yet seen Elizabeth, since the painting is between the two. He walks up to a wall where some of the work is displayed, and he places his dark hands on his hips, studying a skill that he doesn't possess himself. He casually strolls along the works, until he comes across a sculpture half-finished on the table.
The sculpture isn't complete enough yet for him to get a good feel of what it is supposed to represent, and without thinking it through, he picks it up, turning the creation in his hand. He knits his brow, trying to determine what it is. This modern art isn't something he's very familiar with.
Oddly, even for Xaviers, the first to notice Hosea entering the room isn't actually Elizabeth. After a few moments a polite coughing sound comes from the painting, causing her to reach for her tea and peek around the edge of the canvas. "Don't worry. I can't tell what it's going to be either and I was in here when it got started…" she informs shly.
Hosea jumps slightly, not having realized he wasn't alone. He places the sculpture gently back on the table. "I am sorry," he says. His voice is powerful and deep. "I did not mean to disturb you." Hosea smiles warmly, despite the volume at which he speaks. His voice has a thick African accent of some sort. He starts to walk toward Elizabeth, smile still fixed on his face.
Elizabeth blinks a few times, then takes another sip of her cold tea. "You didn't disturb me at all. Although you… I'm not sure I can explain without sounding mad… you distracted my painting," she practically winces at her own words. "But only the rider thankfully."
Hosea gives Elizabetha puzzled look. "I distracted?" he echoes, as if perhaps he has the wrong definition of the word. "You say that I made your painting have trouble paying attention?" he asks. He moves closer, around to the side of the painting that has the art so that he can see it.
Elizabeth pouts. "I would really rather you didn't…" she starts and then Hosea has moved round so she tails off with a sigh. Quietly she adds "It's rude to peek at an artists work while they're working." Of course by then the imagine on the canvas, a knight wearing elegant platemail and a creature that seems to be modelled on a sleek bodied Gryphon, has turned to look back at Hosea. The creature also flexing talons larger than the riders head in a lazy threat. "Darn, I was hoping I could finish the clouds before it woke up. Although the sky is all wrong to work from, so I suppose I won't delay me too much>"
Hosea would apologize if he wasn't completely astonished. "Your painting!" He points. "It moves! That is amazing! I have nevah seen anything like that!" He is thoroughly impressed. "It is like it is alive, yes?" Her artwork has quickly become the most interesting thing in the room to him.
Elizabeth blushes. "Something like that, yes. Would you like some tea? I'm afraid it's gone a little cold, but it's Da Hong Pao. Although not the /authentic/ stuff. Daddy wouldn't splash out twenty thousand dollars or more on tea."
Hosea smiles back at Hosea. "Yes, that is vedy kind of you," he says. "And I am glad your fahter would not spend that much on tea, it would be unwise, yes?" His own attire suggests that he comes from a less than wealthy background. It's an old non-descript red T-shirt that has enough wear and tear that the collar is frayed, as are the edges of the sleeves.
"An argument which would hold more weight if he hadn't spent twice as much on a bottle of whiskey to celebrate his birthday with," Elizabeth informs solemnly, moving to pour two cups of just barely lukewarm tea. "I would offer to show you the other half of my 'power' but it wouldn't be a good idea indoors. Besides the painting isn't done yet and I'm not sure it would even work…." Her own attire implies enough money that the wearer doesn't care about it. Designer clothes and matching accessories, most of which have been ruined with little splatters of paint.
Hosea shakes his head, and takes the cup of tea. "Your powah is vedy special," he tells her. "You must be vedy happy to be blessed like dis." He drinks a sip of the tea. "All people have many problems, I am sure your fahter cares vedy much about you." He doesn't really know her or her father, but he speaks on faith of the fact.
"I… I'm not. Happy that is and please don't ask why. It's not something I'm comfortable talking about yet," Elizabeth replies distantly, pouring her own cup of tea. "But yes. Daddy does care. He just has terrible taste when it comes to drinks. Now if he'd spent the money on a good bottle of wine I might have approved… But I… You know I don't believe we've been introduced? My name is Elizabeth White, it's a pleasure to meet you Mr…?"
Hosea respects Elizabeth's desire to remain silent on the happiness subject. "My name is Hosea Ikbuku," he says, his smile broadening. He holds out a large hand to shake, not realizing that some count it proper to allow the lady to offer her hand first. "It is my first time in America heah," he adds, as if it were pertinent information.
Elizabeth puts down the teapot, then checks her hands for wet paint before finally shaking Hosea's hand. "Which country are you from originally?" she wonders. "If it's not rude of me to ask that is. I assume you're here as a student too? Although you could probably pass for a student teacher. You're certainly bigger than most of the teaching staff after all!"
Hosea's handshake is firm, but not crushing. "I am from Nigeria," he tells her. "I am a student, though yes, I am vedy tall." He laughs, "It is strange to be in school though, I have not been in school since I was twelve, and nevah in such a place like this, with a building where people just learn all da time! It is vedy impressive I think." He indicates around at the room, though obviously to the institute itself. "America is vedy big, are you from this state?" he asks before taking a drink of his tea. His form is hardly ceremoniously, as he takes a large drink right at the start from the cup. "This is good tea, thank you."
"Oh no, I come from Texas. Although I had visited New York before," Elizabeth replies, sipping at her own tea. "One of my relatives owned an art gallery here. I think he might have sold it since then though, if it wasn't fashionable in his circle of friends anymore."
Hosea looks a little confused, "Fashionable?" he asks. "I did not think that working was something for style," he says. Of course, he's not one to talk about style, really. "Do many people in America choose dere jobs because of fashion?" His smile droops slightly, but he's still got a grin.
Elizabeth blinks. "Job?" she repeats, laughing softly. "Oh no he didn't /work/ in one. He owned it and would throw parties there. I'm honestly not sure he ever made a profit, but that was hardly important. It was more of an image thing, like horse racing is for Daddy. It's not about the winning races, it's just about owning a racehorse."
The concept seems rather foreign to Hosea. "But, you must work, or you will starve," he says. "Many people die of hunger because their crops fail. So they must have a job to buy food if they have none. How does he make money to feed his family?" The wealth that is common in America is enough of a stretch for his mind, he doesn't even grasp the kind of wealth that Elizabeth comes from.
"He was born with more money than he could ever spend?" Elizabeth ventures, shrugging lightly. "And he doesn't actually have a family of his own. At least not that anyone else in the family has heard about anyway. But it's unlikely he'll have kids because he's never 'liked' women that way."
Hosea shakes his head. "That is vedy strange," he says. "In America, all people are rich, yes?" he states. "Vedy different from Africa. Did you know you can go to a store where there is medicine here? It is amazing! I take the money from what dah school gives me. They give me $50 each week! That is so much! So I buy medicine and send it to Africa. God has blessed me to be able to do this. It is nice to be rich now, I help many people."
"I suppose it depends on how you define rich? My family own a lot of shares in oil companies," Elizabeth explains, glancing out of the window. Up towards the clouds. "I suppose we might even have some interests in Nigeria. I think Daddy might have been there on business once or twice. It's not something I've ever really had to concern myself with." She frowns, then picks up her brush and adds a few more dabs of paint. "Not everyone is rich though. We still have homeless people and there are people who live in houses which aren't as nice as the schools stables."
Hosea laughs, "With so many rich people, the people who are homeless must not need to worry," he says. "Dey can be housed by dah rich people," he points out, as if it were an obvious solution. "America is a good place." He takes another long drink of his tea. "Your painting is good. I am happy for your special powah," he says again. "But I think dah post office will close soon, and so I have to mail some medicine today."
"I don't think it works that way," Elizabeth notes, her attention already mostly back on the painting. "It was a pleasure to meet you Mr Ikbuku. Good luck reaching the post office in time! Although I'm sure the school could arrange for some kind of special delivery post if they knew you were sending medicine for people. Perhaps you should ask one of the teachers about it?"
"Do you think they can?" Hosea asks. "I must talk to the teachahs, thank you vedy much!" He gets another broad grin. "I will be happy to see you again! You will make many more good paintings!" He heads out the door, off to the post office he goes.
