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So noisy... so damned noisy... why is everyone being so noisy! Rowan thought as he made a beeline for the library. The library was the only quiet place he could think of, the only sanctuary away from all the noise. Stepping through the doors there were people... lots of people everywhere. Granted it was still a lot quieter than outside, but now the problem was it was crowded. Though, he knew one spot that wouldn't be. The back. People always avoided the back section for some reason, which is why the boy loved it so much, and there was a free table!
He grabbed a few art books along the way and sat down at the desk. It was also far quieter at the back. He was glad he didn't have a group project. Not that he'd be too good in one anyway with his stutter. He pulled out a sketchbook and begun sketching some things. He used the various art reference books he found to help him gain ideas. No one noticed him, and no one bothered him, it was quiet and secluded, and a spot of his own, he liked it. He didn't have to battle getting out a sentence, not even a word. Peace, pure peace. Things had been quite full on since he was told about his powers, but he wasn't one to complain, so no one knew he had been feeling way too overwhelmed.
was rare for Moonie to have to go to the library for a book. These days nearly everything is available digitally. Thankfully. However, this wasn't one of those situations. Moonie bit his lip, pushing his way through the crowded halls towards the Bellefonte library. While it was nice having such an extensive library at his fingertips, it also came with situations where he'd be assigned to read extremely old books that could only be found in this library. Well. Unless you were an important book nerd with lots of access to obscure books that you probably wouldn't want to read in the first place.
As the door to the library closed behind Moonie, he realized what he had just gotten himself into. The library was packed, full of groups of younger students bustling and whispering amongst themselves. Must be group project time for the highschool students. This is what happens when you procrastinate. You go on the last day and it's the worst time. Nodding to the woman behind the desk, Moonie made his way to the oldest section of the business category. Probably didn't help that the professor for the class was several centuries old.
Sliding the book off the shelf, Moonie looked around for a place to sit. It was an opportunity to push himself to be more social, but it didn't help his anxiety too much. Of course he could check the book out and just do everything at home, but it was likely that he'd probably get distracted in his apartment and miss his due date. Moving towards the back, head on a swivel, Moonie finally found a nearly empty table. Seated at the very back was a younger student, probably a good idea to occupy the back area, since it was much quieter.
Moonie sat himself down into a chair at the table. "Hope you don't mind too much, everywhere else is full up and super loud," he told the boy sitting at the table, before digging into his assigned reading. Realizing that he had forgotten to grab his notes, Moonie's arm stretched out abnormally, flicking through folders in his bag before producing a newer looking composition notebook and shrinking back down to normal length.
The book was boring. Holy hell was it boring. It was probably the most dated, uninteresting thing he'd ever been assigned to read. After a while of taking notes and trying to transcribe the seemingly 12th century language, Moonie's gaze sought after the books on the table. Nearly all of them seemed to have one thing in common: art. Doing his best not to be rude or intrusive, Moonie stretched his neck a little bit to get a good look at what his table-mate was up to.
"Oh that looks cool," Moonie said to the boy quietly, hoping that he'd hear despite the low roar that permeated the front of the room.
Rowan looked up when another student came towards the back with a book in his hand. There wasn't any other tables in sight, so, he figured it made sense that someone wanted to sit here. He shrugged when the other commented on the noise of the library. He went back to his sketchbook. pencil gliding smoothly with each stroke, each line. He loved his art. He glanced up every now and again though, to see what the other was doing. The book he had looked like it belonged in a museum or something. Not that it mattered to him, he wasn't the one reading it. Back to his art Rowan went. Before the other spoke again.
He had complimented Rowan's work. Miss Arazi liked his art too. So... people actually did care about art? And he just had a bad stroke of luck at his old school where he was bullied for it? Either way he offered a small smile in return. "Th-th-thanks." Rowan looked up at the other. "D-Do you like art?" Rowan added after a moments thought.
the boy hadn't been too alarmed at Moonie's comment. "Yeah, dude, art is rad," he told the boy, happy to receive relief from reading the business bible he'd been assigned. "The arts are what keep us human, I think. Without them we'd probably be one jerk of a species and end up killing ourselves off." Maybe he shouldn't have gone so dark so quickly with someone he'd just met. It'll be fine, he told himself. (No it won't) Moonie took a deep breath. Yes it will. (Are you sure?)
"Of course, I don't really do art myself. I stick to music, cause it's what I'm good at. But I definitely can appreciate the work that others do, ya know?" Moonie told him, pushing his thoughts out of his mind the best he could. He knew that he probably shouldn't be talking in the library, but hell, there were several groups making quite a bit of noise throughout the place so it couldn't matter too much.
Moonie leaned back in his chair a little, reaching into his bag, grabbing a couple of his CBD gummies from a small container and popped them into his mouth. He couldn't smoke everywhere. One of the small problems with his medication could easily be solved with edibles, and in situations like these, Moonie was thankful. "So how long have you been drawing?" he asked. (He hates you) Shut up.
Rowan offered a small smile then furrowed his eyes a bit at his comment about humans. "W-W-Well... we're kind of d-d-d-doomed anyway... Humans are... o-obsessed with p-power and control..." Rowan shrugged. "But... a-a-as long as th-there are those p-people that fight on the o-o-opposing wing, we s-stand a chance at p-preservation." Rowan added looking back up at the male across from him. "A-a-art is... sp-special. It's a w-w-window to many other w-w-worlds... it c-c-can give off an air of s-safety and comfort, an outlet to rage, it gives an honest outlook of the mind from which it came. There's no lies in art, only feeling. Be it music, drawing, photography, writing... there's always a certain honesty about the subject it portrays." His stutter seemed to drop halfway through his rant about art, but he didn't seem to notice it stopped. "I've been drawing since I was little. I've been pursuing the arts my whole life." He frowned again biting his lip. "Though... I used to get bullied for it, but it never stopped me. I like it too much to give it up. As I said, there's no lying in art, so I like putting my time into it." Rowan smiled.
