Open RP: Rose and her exhibition

[rosecasson.livejournal.com]

Pinned up around the school, in the measured script of someone who is entirely not Rose and may be a house-elf:

There is an exhibition of art and sculpture and murals and other things on the third floor. You will be able to tell where it is because there will be no dust and the room will be full of art things and there will be sausages on sticks and a sign saying ‘This way --->’

And you do not have to come if you do not like art, but you do have to come if you like me.

There is also some painting stuff on the table if you want to have a go and put it in the guest gallery which is on the wall that says ‘Gallery For Guests’.

The art is by me, who is Rose Casson.



Rose waits in the classroom, looking around at her models and paintings and especially the pictures on the wall of people she knows. There’s Pippi, done in primary colours, in poster paint (she suits brightness)—Dean, looking askance at a booze bottle in murky oils—Jadzia done in black ink and a paintbrush. There’s a model of Hogwarts with a girl holding a kitten sitting on the steps. JD’s there, holding snow above his head, smile frozen in alabaster.

There are four paintings—two up, two down—all mounted on the same wall. They make up the face of Indigo, her brother, with his usual wry smile and with his pale skin jumping out at the viewer.

Look across from there and see a pop-art style painting of Dr. House, cane at the ready. The sculpture of Stephen smiles at it, as if he knows something House doesn't (Rose thinks this is probably true. Stephen thus gets a full-bodys sculpture. House gets his head and shoulders painted.)

On one wall is the ever-growing mural of people she likes and people she will feed to the sharks. The latter category is small, thankfully. If she ever gets pencils that make drawings come to life…watch out.

The rest of the available wall-spaces are taken up with a long buffet-table, full of finger food that people will LIKE. Rose knows Daddy has cannapays (and she’s only ever heard the word), but they have spinach in. Her own version—pineapple and cheese on sticks, sausages on sticks, biscuits, fairy cakes and so on—look much more appetizing.

Permanent Rose Casson looks around and finally sticks a pen to the wall with blutack. The sheets of paper stuck by it will act as a huge visitor’s book.

Wishing her mother could be here to see her first exhibition, she flings the doors open and returns to her mural—just in case anyone falls out of favour.

Comments

[daxtastic.livejournal.com]

To say Jadzia had been looking forward to this exhibit would be an understatement. Rose was a wonderful girl, and a wonderful artist. Dax didn't know if she had any right to be proud of the ten year old, but she was nonetheless.

"Hello, Rose!" She was carrying a small wrapped box. "Everything looks amazing."

[rosecasson.livejournal.com]

'Jadzia!' Rose says happily, leaping back from her mural and wiping her pastel-ly fingers on her jeans. 'Thank you. I did you, look! You're in ink because of the tattoos and you suited looking professional.'

She eyes the box curiously. 'Is that more things for the painting table?'

The one that's sharing with the food table. Well, a little non-toxic paint never hurt anyone.

[daxtastic.livejournal.com]

"That's very clever! I see you did Indigo too- I bet he'll love it."

"Oh, no. It's just something I picked up in town." She handed the box to Rose. "Happy Exhibit Opening!" Wine clearly wasn't an apropos gift for a child's exhibit opening, so she settled on a nice graphite pencil set, charmed to make the drawings one created move about on paper.

[rosecasson.livejournal.com]

Rose hadn't really adored the brandy-dipped cherries, so wine would have been boring. Indigo would have taken it away somewhere, anyway. He protects her in the ways she does not need.

'For me?' she asks breathlessly, trailing her fingers over the bow. 'Is it really? And--Indigo should like it. It looks like him. I know I would like a portrait of me that looked like me.'

[daxtastic.livejournal.com]

In ways the Rose didn't need, but which Dax heartedly approved of!

"Of course. You deserve it." She pointed to the sculpture of the girl with the kitten. "Is that anybody in particular?"

[estebanmd.livejournal.com]

Of course Dr Maturin had no intention of missing Rose's art exhibition. For one thing, he suspected he would dread the consequences of missing it, even if those consequences were only hurt feelings on the little girl's part. Rose would have a way of making her displeasure known, he was sure.

He did not expect to have been immortalised in ... sweet mother of God, was that marble? Astonished and touched, he looked about for Rose. He had brought her a little bouquet to congratulate her on the exhibition. It was not of roses, her name notwithstanding; he knew well that she was named for the shade and not the flower; it was, instead, of bright daffodils.

"Miss Casson? Upon my word, what a prodigious display of talent."

[rosecasson.livejournal.com]

The daffodils make her face light up with one of the biggest smiles you ever did see. She almost tells him that picking those flowers mean that you will wet the bed, but no, that's dandelions.

'Thank you for coming to see it,' she replies. 'Have you seen, look? All of the people I like are in here. Can you see anyone you know?'

She nudges him in the direction of his sculpture.

And then looks hopefully at the flowers.

[estebanmd.livejournal.com]

"I have," he replied, "and I own I am immensely honored, immensely and profoundly honored." With a bow, as measured and serious as he would have addressed to any accomplished artist regardless of age, he presented her with the daffodils. "Allow me to offer my congratulations on the occasion of this most impressive exhibition."

[rosecasson.livejournal.com]

Rose blinks in surprise. She never normally gets words like that thrown in her direction, much less people bowing to her. She takes the flowers and her nose twitches a little. Gently, she places them in the crook of statue!Stephen's arm.

'It wasn't really that hard. I did it all myself,' she remarks, inwardly beaming.

[estebanmd.livejournal.com]

"Well, and perhaps it was not hard, for you; that makes it no more negligible," Stephen countered. "Shall you be wanting more paint, now? since you must have used a great deal of it."

[canes-can-kill.livejournal.com]

While House would normally just scoff at an art exhibit hosted by a child - finger painting and sponge use seemed to be the norm, these days - he couldn't resist taking a peek at Rose's display. She had, after all, already proved her talent in the painting she'd given to him depicting a certain Dr. Wilson with no eyebrows and a burning teddy bear.

He didn't expect to see himself, though. Much less in pop art, looking like he was going to pop someone in the nads with his cane at any given second. (And who the hell was that statue, looking at his painting like it knew the clues to the universe and his psychology? Weird.) Still, it was fairly awesome.

[rosecasson.livejournal.com]

'Hello, Doctor House,' says a voice at probably ribcage-level. 'Would you like some pineapple and cheese? Or paint? It's non-toxic.'

[canes-can-kill.livejournal.com]

Good lord, damn all young people and their sudden ability to appear out of nowhere. House raised his eyebrows incredulously, first glancing over to the table that held all the food, and then back at Rose. "You're serving paint?"

He then glanced around furtively, as if to check that there's nobody else around that would be able to hear him giving a compliment. "Nice exhibit," House commented gruffly, "Once again you display that you have far too much artistic talent than you should at your age." Yes, that was a compliment. Somehow.

[rosecasson.livejournal.com]

'I had a tube of paint when I was little,' offers Rose, 'And it hasn't done me any harm. It got me better. I had a hole in my heart, and after that was sewed up, I got pneumonia.'

The plate is offered again. 'Chinese white?'

She doesn't comment on the compliment, but she smiles to herself. A nice smile, like when she'd taken Caddy's ring for safekeeping. Until she'd lost it, of course...

'Do you like your portrait?'

[canes-can-kill.livejournal.com]

While the instinct to ask questions and figure out exactly what Rose had medically was strong, House resisted the urge. Because really, paint healing a hole in her heart, followed by pneumonia? Either she was talking some fairly extreme metaphors, or it was unlike any medicine House knew about.

"No, thanks," he smirked at the plate, "My diet says I have to cut back on paint these days. It's a whole nutrition content thing. And yes, the portrait is great. It's very," House paused, trying to come up with a suitable adjective, "...striking."

[mageofanima.livejournal.com]

*Erk ambles through the door. If there's one thing he loves, it's reading, but if there's another thing he loves almost if not as much, it's art. And there's plenty of art here. Very good art. Catching sight of Rose, he walks over. He smiles.* Would you by any chance be Rose Casson?

[rosecasson.livejournal.com]

She smiles back, quickly. 'Yes. There's only one of me. Would you like a fairy cake?'

[mageofanima.livejournal.com]

Ah... yes, please. *Erk is going to have to start getting used to non sequiturs again.* Nice to meet you, Rose. I'm Erk.

*He looks around at the gallery again.* You're a very good artist.

[rosecasson.livejournal.com]

Everyone has to get used to a lot of things, when Rose is around.

She waits until after he compliments to decide he is a nice person. 'It's nice to meet you too. And I have practiced a lot. See?'

She points to the mural, started on her first day here.

'I got some sculpting things from Santa, so I practiced that here too.'

[mageofanima.livejournal.com]

Ah, yes, that always helps.

*He blinks at the mural.* Although I'm rather curious as to what those sharks are doing there.

[meatheadknight.livejournal.com]

Having narrowly avoided a sharky fate in his first interaction with Rose, Neal decided that it would be best to do what he could to stay in her good graces. Anyway, he was curious. When they'd met at his sorting, he'd made the mistake of assuming she was, well, avarage. He'd been quickly set strait, and was interested to see what her art was like.

He was very plesantly surprised, to tell the truth. Looking around, he saw Rose talking to someone else, and decided to have a look around. Neal didn't recognise any of the subjects of the art, but then, he didn't really know many people here, yet. He quickly jotted down his name on the sheet of paper, and then walked over to have a closer look at the mural.

[rosecasson.livejournal.com]

A little later, Rose spots a new name on the wall. Hmmm. Grabbing a tube of paint, she walks over to the person examining her mural.

'You're there,' she says coldly, pointing at a teetering man, half-off the top of castle, the sharks looking up hungrily below.

'Do you want some paint to eat?'

[meatheadknight.livejournal.com]

"Well, at least I'm not actually in the water," he observed. "Thank you for that. I do hope the sharks aren't good jumpers, though."

Neal glanced doubtfully at the tube of paint. "If I say yes, am I going to regret it? I don't think I've ever eaten paint before."

[rosecasson.livejournal.com]

'I have,' she says. 'And I have not got anything wrong with me anymore.'

But she relents, and gives him a sausage on a stick.

'The sharks,' she observes, 'Are Olympic-level jumpers, but only the British team sort.'

So Neal has nothing to worry about.

[meatheadknight.livejournal.com]

Neal gratefully took the sausage. He hoped she was joking about eating paint - it really didn't sound like a good idea to him.

"Olympic?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "That sounds impressive, even if I'm not sure what it means."