fandomhigh | Dollar Store Arts and Crafts, Thursday, Period 1

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arts & crafts

Dollar Store Arts and Crafts, Thursday, Period 1

Class met at the Causeway that morning, as per a ~~handwavy~~ message sent the afternoon before. Hardison was standing next to a van with a Lyft sign in the window "Hey all," he said, giving them a nod. "Why don't we hop into the van and I'llexplain what we're doin'."

Once everyone was in and buckled up, the van started heading into Baltimore proper. "This is Dollar Store Arts 'n Crafts," Hardison said, "a class devoted to provin' you can still have fun an' make cool stuff without breakin' the bank on fancy supplies. I teach art sometimes an' while messin' around with oil paints an' stained glass is cool, that ain't somethin' that everyone is able to afford on their downtime. So this class is kickin' it old school. No portals, no high-end art shoppes, no supplies with multiple zeroes on 'em. We're only usin' supplies you could find at your local dollar store. Creativity don't have a price tag, y'all."

Ten minutes later, the van pulled up in front of a Dollar General and Hardison led the class out of the vehicle and into the store. "A'ight," he said. "Y'all got ten minutes to look around, grab some art supplies, an' get cashed out. Call me over when your cashier is done ringin' you up an' then get back to the van, a'ight? There's plenty of ~~moddable~~ stuff in here, so use your imaginations. Grab paint, pool rocks, shaving cream, discount Christmas ornaments, whatever you think you'll need to make somethin' cool today. Your time starts..." He made a show of checking his phone. "Now."

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Like an artiste!

Paris Geller

Sabine Wren

Astrid Magnussen

Bobby Drake

You know. In a van. Perfectly normal class!

Paris raised her hand immediately. "I've been raised not to get into vans with strange men. No offense."

"Did you get on the shuttle to come here?" Hardison retorted.

[Did I specify a van specifically for this response? YES. YES I DID.]

"Yes, but it didn't have a Lyft sign in it," Paris said. "How do I know I'm not about to be trafficked?"

"You'd rather I used an anonymous van, rather than one registered and trackable?" Hardison asked. "That seems backwards."

"I'd rather you use anything that doesn't scream 'hey kids, free candy and drugs,'" Paris replied.

"Next time we go on a field trip, I'll let you convince Dean Skywalker to let us use the shuttle," Hardison drawled. "That sounds like fun. Honestly though. If you're objectin' to a van but just walk through portals on no more than someone's say-so, that's a whole hell of a lotta classism you might wanna examine."

"I'd be happy to talk with the dean," Paris said immediately, mostly to avoid having to dwell on her classism.

Of the -isms he could have mentioned, that seemed the kindest.

"Cool," he said. "Until then, into the van."

He was basically channeling Eliot right now. But not with that thing Eliot did with his eyes. Because no one intelligent got into a van with a man that was making those eyes at him.

Not unless they were going to a cabin in the woods and then ending up on a milk carton!

"Fine," Paris huffed.

After Paris' whole thing, Sabine had no problem getting in the can. She could take this guy, it was fine.

Well. The last time Astrid was packed into a van with her peers like this was a little more than a week ago, on a trip to visit her mother in prison. So there was some awkward familiarity with this scenario, although this van was much nicer.

Still, it was on their way to get art stuff, so she couldn't be too bothered by it. She just sort of listened with one ear while watching the outside world passing them by, hoping this trip would be at least shorter.

It's like Supermarket Sweep but for art supplies! Run and grab stuff! Or maybe you wanna meander but shop with precision!

No matter your shopping style, you've only got ten minutes!

...But don't make a mess. These are minimum wage workers, they don't deserve that.

[Items moddable]

Their time in the store might be limited, but Astrid didn't seem to be in much of a rush as she idly considered a few options. She wasn't worried about finding something to use or how to use it; she pretty much grew up doing dollar store arts and crafts, and was feeling a weird bit of nostalgia in the store, remembering how she'd pick up a few things at the convenience store, along with some food, when she slipped a few bills from Ingrid's purse because she was hungry and bored. If anything, she was almost getting too many ideas, recalling all those little projects she did to fill the time.

"A'ight, you got about twenty minutes to create somethin' outta whatever you bought at the store," Hardison said. "Paint, sculpt, build, repurpose...whatever you can think of."

Astrid had a stack of children's books, a pair of scissors, some glue sticks, and not a lot of time, so she was bent over her work with a focus and intensity that nearly made her forget she was even in class.

It wasn't going to be the most creative thing in the world, and that was fine. Imagination was never her strongest point, but execution...that was where even she'd admit she had talent.

And with only a few minutes left of class, time to show off what you made. Name, why you're in the class, and then describe what it was you made: what it is, why you made it, what it's made out of, whatever other details you want to include.

"Right," Pair said, holding up the pillowcase she'd made. "I'm Paris Geller and I've been told by my therapist that I need to learn to craft to relax a bit. This is two different placemats sewed together and stuffed with...that stuffing stuff. I will use it to scream into if my Harvard acceptance letter doesn't show up soon."

So much about their earlier interaction made sense. So much.

"Hi Paris," Hardison said. "So, you got any backup schools? Yale or Stanford or Cornell?"

If Hardison were spiteful, he would have thrown in a reference to UConn just to see the explosion.

"Yale," Paris said, making a face, "but Kavanaugh went there and he's clearly an asshole."

By the face Hardison made, it was clear he agreed. "Whereas Obama went to Harvard, so you got a point," he admitted.

"And his wife went to Princeton for her bachelors, but...Jersey," Paris said.

"I'm Astrid," she offered, holding up her work. It was a collage, bright and colorful, where she'd taken all these little images and tokens and illustrations from the flimsy children's book, the mass-produced money-grabs cashing in on popular media and all their cheap knock-offs too (especially the cheap knock-offs), but more than that. All the little pictures easily made a big picture, all the colors layered and placed so that, at a distance, it was just a California beach sunrise, all yellows and reds and purples.

"I like art." And understatement. She shrugged a little. "And I like collages, and those books had a lot of rich colors that reminded me of home, so I just took them apart, put them together, and came out with this."

Bobby's... creation... was a diorama of sorts, a couple of hastily assembled sculpts made of off-brand plasticine holding little plastic swords, the neon kind one usually used to hold sandwiches together. Directly behind them was a ramekin filled with shiny plastic beads.

"Bobby Drake," he introduced himself. "I'm here mostly 'cause it sounded like it wouldn't be boring, and these are umm... a couple of pirates fighting over some treasure."

"Sabine," she said. "I mostly use paint, but this seemed like a good challenge. So I made class."

Well, sort of. She'd taken flower pots, broken them, colored them with chalk, and made a mosaic of the van against a more colorful background.

She created art through true life here.

He's crafting, too!

Okay but y'all can keep The Price Is Right or even Family Feud, Supermarket Sweep is the best game show ever.

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Dollar Store Arts and Crafts, Thursday, Period 1

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