Throwing Troubles [Emmi Fala]

Sunlight beams through all the windows in the large ceramics and clay-work room of Fukui Academy. Some of the windows are cracked open, allowing a slight breeze to waft through the spacious room. Distant voices, the sounds of students going about their after-school activities, permeates the silence of the room. Dust motes drift drowsily through the stillness, winking in and out of the shadows created by the spacing of the windows. In a corner of the room sits a girl. Her back is to one of the windows, the daylight and motes covering her features in a soft haze.

Ellie leans forward over a pottery wheel, her brow furrowed and lips pulled into a small frown. Her eyes, a pale green, glint with intense concentration. Her long, butterscotch hair is tied in a loose ponytail and drapes over her left shoulder. Stray strands of her hair drifts about her face. They gleam a silken gold in the sunlight. She's dressed in the school uniform, her skirt rumpled by her scooting around earlier as she tried to get comfortable on the low stool she sits on. A dusty, well used school apron is tied over her uniform in a vain attempt to prevent the clay from getting on her clothes.

Her arms are flecked with dry bits of gray clay. The closer to her hands one gets, the wetter and darker the clay becomes. Reaching to her left, she grabs a small slice of fresh clay from a table. On her right is perched a small bowl of muddy water. Sprinkling some of the water on the pottery wheel, she balls the square of fresh clay up and thunks it down into the center of the wheel. Rubbing some more of the water on her hands, she takes in a deep breath, and then lets it out in a soft sigh.

"Okay, here goes," she mutters to herself. Raising her right foot, she places it down onto a pedal at the base of the pottery wheel. The wheel begins to spin rapidly, the chunk of clay slipping slightly off center.

"Oh no you don't!" Ellie growls out. Reaching forward, she cups both hands around the ball of clay, trying to steady it. It jerks and jumps in her hands, fighting the pressure she's placed on it. As much as she tries, though, it doesn't even out. In fact, it only gets worse! Eventually, she places too much pressure on it, and it slips completely off center and then crumples in her hands.

Groaning, she lifts her foot from the pedal, halting the wheel's spinning. The clay has transformed into a slimy distorted blob. Deep grooves where her fingers had dug into the too soft clay are clear and easy to see. It leans at an odd and drunken angle.

Ellie raises her clay covered hands up and cries out, the frustration in her voice loud and clear, "Why can't I get this? What am I doing wrong!?"

Off to her right, resting next to the foot pedal, is a small beige bucket. Inside of it is a small pile of discarded blobs. All of them very wet and with a distressingly similar appearance to the one still sitting on the pottery wheel.

Classes were quite strenous but as a third year of the esteemed Fukui Academy, she understood why it was to be this way. Emmi was currently making her way towards one of the general art rooms that was located within the main building of the Academy. There was a project that she was working on in which would be needed to be completed in the following few weeks, but she would rather start on it than leave it till the last moment.

Clad in her uniform with the ribbon swaying side to side and her hair was freely flowing behind her back as she walked towards the location, Emmi stayed silent as she passed by the other students that were heading to their other location. Her irises looking up above the sliding doors as she spoke the names of each room within her mind. 'Class 1a...Class 2b...library...and now art. Here it is.'

Sliding the door silently towards her left to gain access into the room, her golden orbs gazed at the other individual that was located on the other side of the room. She would stay silent as the other girl was grabbing a small slice of clay and closed the door behind her. It was not any of her business to interrupt and she believe that it would be better of if she didn't distract her from her concentration as planning her own project on practising would carvings.

Walking towards one side of the room that had a pile of all sorts of sizes and length that were arranged to be used, as soon as Emmi reached out to grab one, the sounds of frustration made the third year flinch with her eyes twitching before she looked towards where the other student is. She eyes the blobs of wet liquid coating them and Emmi deduced that it was definitely failed attempts.

Finding herself by the girl's side, she crouch with her knees close to her chest as she eyed the wheel that was coated with liquid. "... The wheel is wet. The clay must be dry as well as the wheel so the clay can stick to the base," And that was all she spoke. She would create the first move in a conversation if she deduced that her help is needed .

Ellie had been concentrating so hard on trying to get what she's doing right, that she hadn't noticed the other girl enter the room. Even when she'd raised her hands and vented her frustrations into the air, she'd thought she was still alone. Most of the other students aren't having nearly as much trouble as she is with this particular project. So none of them chose to stay after class. Also, since ceramics is their last class of the day, few people would feel the need or desire to stay late anyway. Even the teacher had left, just telling her to make sure she cleans up after herself. So, as far as she's aware, she's the last and only person left in the room.

At least, until a voice very close to her speaks out.

Giving a slight jump, Ellie's left hand rises to press against her chest in her surprise. Straightening on her stool, she quickly looks to her right where the voice had come from. Eyes dropping down, she finds herself gazing into the dark golden eyes of an unknown girl. Who's sitting crouched next to the discard bucket, head chin level to the pottery wheel.

"Oh!", she exclaims, her expression shifting from one of surprise to one of relief. "You startled me there! I didn't hear you come in." Blinking, she breaks her eye contact and looks back at her botched attempt. Grimacing, she glances back a the other girl, an embarrassed smile tilting her lips up.

"You, ah, you didn't hear me just a while ago, did you?"

Almost right after the words leave her lips, she shakes her head and hurriedly adds, "Scratch that, you said something, right?" Her embarrassment increasing, she continues, "Sorry, I didn't quite catch what you said. Would you mind repeating it?"

Absently, she raises her left hand towards some loose hair near her face, only to freeze in place once she remembers it's covered in clay. Sudden realization striking her, she glances down at her chest, only to see a clear and obvious hand print partially on the apron she's wearing. The tops of her fingers had missed the apron and had pressed quite firmly into her school uniform, soiling it.

"Drat," she sighs out in exasperation.

"This is not my day," she mutters under her breath, even as she returns her pale greens to the stranger before her, awaiting her reply.

Even though the other girl jumped due to her presence being somewhat of a surprise, Emmi's golden orbs kept eyeing the wet wheel of the pottery wheel until she was spoken to. Her head shifted to her left to make eye contact with her before the other girl broke out of it. Emmi could tell that the girl with the rich-blond hair was quite new with using this kind of equipment and even then, she didn't blame her for making such mistakes.

"Hmm. I was here when you started to use the newest clay, so that includes the frustrated sounds as well," Emmi replied as she averted her gaze from the wheel back towards the girl that was sitting on the stool. The tone of her voice was soft with a hint of teasing before hearing the word 'drat' come from the girl's lips at eyeing the results of a wet, clay-coated hand pressing against her chest.

"People make mistakes and some accidents can occur. Maybe tomorrow will be much better for you," Emmi replied back before gazing at the pottery wheel once more. That was when she answered the other question of repeating what she had said before. "The pottery wheel's base had to be dry before placing the dry base of the clay onto it so it doesn't stick."

Standing on her feet to her full height, Emmi reached into her right school-shoulder bag and pulled out a sky-blue handkerchief. Holding it within her hands, she handed it over to the blond girl with a small smile despite her answers being somewhat short, blunt and to the point. "My name is Emmi. Emmi Fala and I study sculpturing as a major. So I did work with clay, myself."

A slight pink rises in Ellie's cheeks at hearing how much this other girl had seen and heard. Dang it all, she saw almost everythin'! It had been bad enough that the other students in her class had seen how much she's struggling. But now this perfect stranger had been witness to her failing as well!

Her shoulders slump slightly in her defeat as she stares down at the terribly messy wheel. I ain't goin' nowhere with this. Nowhere fast! She can feel the clay on her hands and arms drying out. It sticks to the hair and skin on her arms. The dryer it gets, the itchier it gets too.

Absently, she scratches at a particularly itchy patch, as the other girl begins to speak. Raising her head, she gazes at the other student. She finds herself nodding at the other's words.

"There is always another day," she murmurs softly in agreement to the comment about tomorrow maybe being better.

Once again her eyes are drawn back to the admittedly rather wet pottery wheel.

"Ah, so that's why the clay kept slipping?" she asks quietly, almost to herself. It makes sense, now that she's stopped to think about it, instead of being swallowed up by her frustration. She once again raises her hand to twirl her hair, before stopping just before doing so. She drops it back down, resting it in the part of her lap covered by the apron. Okay, so wipin' off the potter wheel seems to be the first order of business... she starts thinking ahead about the new steps she's going to take.

Suddenly her thoughts are broken into when the other girl abruptly rises from her crouch. Look up at her, Ellie watches as she digs around in her book-bag. Then she takes out a sky blue handkerchief and offers it to her. Blinking in surprise, Ellie hastily rises from her seat. Raising her clay encrusted hands, she shakes her head, her light blush from earlier darkening a bit.

"Oh no, I couldn't accept that! I'm much too dirty for such a pretty handkerchief!" Her right hand rises to scratch at her right cheek, only for her freeze after she feels herself rubbing some of the clay there. Sighing, she drops her hand to her side, annoyed that she keeps doing things that only seems to spread the clay everywhere.

Luckily, the other girl introduces herself to her, distracting Ellie from her irritation. Smiling, she returns the greeting with one of her one.

"Well, hello there Emmi. The name's Eleanor Harper. But if you'd call me Ellie, I'd much rather that."

Glancing down at her hands, she gives a sheepish grin.

"I'd offer to shake your hand, but well..." her words peter off, even as she gazes into those golden eyes, her own pale greens twinkling in good humor.

Emmi nodded in response to the quiet murmur of realization that the other girl was having right at that moment. She opened her mouth to warn the other girl in protest against touching her own hair but sighed in relief after eyeing the hand dropping down to the apron covered lap. The third year only puffed out her cheeks after seeing the younger female deny the offer for using the handkerchief, yet it was almost a bit comedic after seeing her rub her cheek which plastered clay onto her skin.

"Ellie...It is nice to meet you, Ellie-san. You shouldn't strain yourself mentally doing this task, sculpturing often requires patience and control of your movements. I am guessing you are a year or two younger since I am a third year, so listen to your senpai, okay?" Emmi responded back with her teeth biting the inside of her right cheek to hold back the laughter of her own words. Shaking her head which caused her brown locks to sway side to side due to the motion, Emmi extended her right hand with the handkerchief in her grasp towards Ellie's cheek.

Pressing the fabric against her flesh, the third year started to gently stroke the area to rid off the clay that was clinging to her whilst also speaking in a gentle tone. "So what are you planning to do now? Are you wanting to try again or do you rather take a small break?"

She did not ignore the humor that was made, in fact it create small laughs that Emmi had to hide behind her left palm in the process. Finally rubbing off all the clay, she gently moved her hand forward to gently dab the fabric of the handkerchief onto the soiled clothing of the junior in front of her.

It's very much to Ellie's surprise when Emmi leans forward and wipes off the clay she'd accidentally smeared onto her face. Frozen in her surprise, a faint flush brushes her cheeks pink. She can't help the wide-eyed stare she directs the other girl's way. It doesn't slip her notice Emmi is a bit taller than her. She has to tilt her head just slighty up in order to look directly into those golden eyes.

The other's soft chuckles, hidden politely behind a left hand, is also not missed. Emmi asks her a question, which breaks her temporary paralysis. Opening her mouth to answer, Emmi withdraws her hand and drops it down to her chest! Blush deepening, Ellie's right hand snaps up and grabs the other girl by her right wrist. Lifting it slightly away, Ellie turns her gaze and burning cheeks away from Emmi.

"Ah, um, I can do that myself!" she blurts out. Her grip is unexpectedly strong and firm. Then she feels the slick grit of the clay rubbing between her hand and the other girl's wrist, and her eyes widen in horror. Just as quickly, she releases Emmi's wrist and takes a step back. Once again, she directs her wide eyes at the other girl. Though this time, it's filled more with dismay than anything else.

"I'm so sorry!" she hurriedly exhales, her hands gesturing in the direction of the now dirtied wrist.

"I wasn't thinking! I swear I didn't mean to get clay on you too!"

This was definitely NOT her day.

Emmi would blink as soon as the other girl had a firm grasp on her wrist. This was followed by a slightly wet yet rough sensation from the clay on Ellie's hand caused her to blink in confusion as to why she was stopped. However that's when the pieces connected to her. Her hand was hovering above the girl's chest, the blush on her junior's cheeks and the quick outburst had also resulted in Emmi's face to flush in embarrassment.

Shaking her head immediately and pulling her hand away, she started to stutter while raising her arms to shake them side to side in a rapid motion. "N-no I should be the one sorry. I did my actions without thinking and while basing them on the reasoning that I wanted to help. Don't need to be sorry, I am the one at fault."

Giving the younger female a small smile of comfort, she still held out the handkerchief and waited for Ellie to accept it. "Accidents to happen after all, we can't be perfect even though we want to be. It is nice to see girls like you working hard."

Looking down at her very dirty hands, then glancing over to the even more clay covered work area, Ellie frowns. Face still a warm, Ellie shakes her head when the handkerchief is still offered her way. She directs a grateful smile at Emmi.

"It's okay. I know you were just trying to help. Don't worry about it." She can't help the small sight that escapes her. "Ah... I think I'm done for the day. Thank you for the offer, but let me wash my hands and arms off first. I don't want to make your handkerchief super dirty." Grinning in embarrassment, she adds, "And you can wash your wrist too."

Stepping away from her work area, Ellie heads over to the cleaning stations of the room. There are several large and deep steel sinks located there. Stacked on several shelves behind the sink are various empty bowls and buckets, along with several different types of soaps. Reaching forward, Ellie fiddles with the hot and cold handles until the water is at a comfortable heat. Plunging her hands into the water, she scrubs off as much of the clay she can without soap. Then she grabs one of the soap bottles and squirts the blue liquid all over her hands and arms. All the way up to her elbows.

Determinedly, she washes the more persistent spots, elbows to hands covered in a lather. Bubbles, knocked loose by her vigorous motions, float dozily through the air. Ellie's leaned forward, loose strands of hair drifting about her face. Her pony tail has fallen over her left shoulder. It shakes and bobs at her movement, the golden strands winking in the low light of the sink area.

Rinsing the soap off, she steps to the side, shaking her very wet hands. "Oh man, that feels much better!"

She's left the water running. Turning towards Emmi, she gives the other girl a quiet smile.

"You can wash your wrist off here."

Pausing, she glances at the dirty sink handles. Her smile turning apologetic, she adds, "Ah, I should have let you go first."