On Top of It All PV John W. Closed

Gathering his painting supplies in the poorly lit dorm room this morning had taken some time but was well worth it. Since arriving at the Scottish Castle, John had been eager to take out his oils and brushes. Yet, it was not a part of him he wanted broadcast around Hogwarts. Something about the act of painting was held very near and dear to the boy, a private moment for him. He rarely let his family see anything he worked on but his mother often was the only one who viewed his work knowing full well that if his father laid eyes on it all of his paintings would be pitched into the nearest body of water or burned. John's mother had managed to send the boy the last of his canvas board from their home in Germany. He had never been so grateful in all his life as he was to see the family owl, Mina, clutching a rectangular package when she showed up last week during breakfast.

Climbing the stairs to the Astronomy tower had been a bit of a chore while balancing his tin of paints, small stack of canvas board and lap easel. Small beams of light had cut through the dark tower as he reached his destination and began meticulously setting up his space. The tower had seemed the best place to catch the sunrise. He would have enough time to do one possibly two small studies before his morning class. Welcoming the silence as the day started, sun creeping up over the edge of the mountains, John let his thoughts trial off as he stared out into the landscape. His eyes scanned every inch of what lay out before him, taking in all of the colors as his hands began to mix small amounts on the top of his tin serving as his makeshift pallet.

Painting was the one time John felt himself and free to be just that. It didn't require him to be correct all the time or constantly appearing put together. His strict upbringing had battered him into a very specific slot that he could escape from while working brush strokes around a clean canvas turning it into his version of the world. His truths. Running the stiffened sable bristles against his thumb, he glanced over the board resting against the frame of the easel. He would have to work quickly though.. capturing a sunrise was something of a task in itself. Plein-air it is.

Time seemed to flash by as John's hand flowed over each canvas board quickly set on task. The sky had already shifted in color and he was on to mixing new colors directly on the board itself. Two somewhat finished studies rested at his feet, placed neatly side by side ready to begin drying. Most of the paint he had thinned out and done more of a wash but the current one was becoming much more textural. The lion was completely engrossed in his work at this point, unaware of the footsteps behind him.

A voice from behind snapped the connection between him and his work, the brush tucked in his hand jolted to one side and smeared a bit of ochre too far to the right, setting John's teeth on edge. Being forcefully snatched from his trance had sent a small wave of anger over the boy. John glanced over his shoulder to see a boy roughly his age looking at him. John wasn't positive but the sharp features looked very familiar as he drew up a memory of the Valentine's Tea Party. He hadn't a chance to talk to him but recognized that the boy had been in the rowdier group that day.

Giving a nod in response to the boy's greeting, John turned to face him, resting his paintbrush on the ledge of the easel. "Sorry to disappoint." His green eyes set on the red-haired boy, his hair looking as if he had just rolled out of his bed and up the Astronomy tower stairs. "There will be no sparkling chests today." Unfortunately John was well versed in Muggle movies... an awful portrayal of glitter-ridden vampires alongside large dogs was one of them. His mother had mistaken it for something else and their trip to the theater had been an interesting one since she refused to leave and look silly. Instead they suffered through the entire flick.

"Were you... sleepwalking?" John decided it was the only explanation for his messy hair. Though he wasn't one to talk, compared to his standard clean cut look there were bits of paint splattered on his pants. In fact now that he realized it, that nasty facade started to trickle into the back of his mind making him self-conscious of the fact his own appearance was most likely not up to snuff. Whatever response he got, John waited before introducing himself properly.

"I'm John, pretty sure I saw you at that Tea Party extravaganza." The young lion smirked as he now was able to fully recall seeing the interaction between him and the blonde girl. He had really stood his ground, something John admired.

@John Wolfe

The smear of misplaced paint on canvas caused Jack to wince as he realized he had startled an actual, painting artist. His gaze drifted from the work-in-progress to the pair of drying works resting carefully near their creator's feet. They were really good, Jack noted with interest. Not that he was about to compliment them out loud just yet. He didn't want to seem like he was trying to flatter the other boy simply to keep him from getting upset for startling him.

Though he expected to be met with some angry comment, the Slytherin instead found the first sentence addressing him to be an apology and the second turning both it and the first into a clever joke. The deadpan delivery of such words made Jack uncertain for a moment before he realized that yes, the comment on sparkling chests had been a reference to a strangely popular muggle series on vampires. At that, the redhead had to laugh. Well, it was good to know the artist also had a sense of humor - and a pretty knowledgeable one at that. If Jack been drowsy before, his new interest in the stranger had very much woken him up.

"Sleepwalking?" Jack repeated with a grin, absently running a hand through his already-disheveled hair. "Nah, I just didn't realize I'd have company to present myself to, let alone make a first impression on." He shook his head in mock disdain. "And a painter at that. I don't suppose my sparkling personality would make up for a lack of sparkling...anything else...?" With a dismissive wave of his hand, he added, "Not that it's easy to capture personality in a painting, but if you use a blank canvas and just say I blinded you with my brilliance, I'm sure that'll suffice."

What a nice smile. Again, not something Jack expected from someone he had just spooked into messing up their painting. It was beginning to make him a bit nervous, but he was determined not to show it. "Jack," he answered, beaming, until the tea party was mentioned and he averted his eyes with a sheepish smile.

"Oh no...you saw me making a fool of myself, did you? Can't trick an artist's attention to detail," he commented with a self-depreciating laugh. "So much for hoping to give a good first impression. Yes, that was me. Not my finest moment; sorry you had to see that."

Rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, Jack walked over to the edge of the tower in order to look out on the horizon. He was careful to choose a place so as not to block John's view - or perhaps to specifically stay out of it. "I'm not normally like that, I swear." He hesitated. "Well...not when it's for someone else's sake, anyway." Time for a new subject.

Turning around, he leaned his back against the edge of the tower's crenelated parapet in order to face his conversation partner. "Considering we both have relatively common first names, care to share surnames as well...?"