Katya swept into the large, currently empty class room on the third floor of Shokushu's small Fine Arts building even earlier than usual one Tuesday morning. The scowl on her face made her normally stoic expression look practically cheery by comparison. Her life drawing teacher, in a fit on "creative inspiration," had decided that the girls needed a change of pace. Rather than the usual charcoal, graphite and newsprint, for the next few classes they would be sculpting their model out of clay.

Katya hated clay.

It was cold and wet and messy. Inelegant, according to her own aesthetic tastes. It's worst sin of all, however, was that Katya had never been able to master it. She'd always been something of a prodigy when it came to art. The Russian girl had seemed to possess an innate skill from the first moment she put her hands on pencil pen or brush. Even weaving and metallurgy had seemed to come naturally to her, her skills improving leaps and bounds ahead of her peers with each class session. She'd expected the same nearly effortless mastery when she enrolled in her first ceramics class the semester before, but it hadn't come. Oh she'd done very well in the class; her 4.0 GPA was in no danger, but she had struggled, something the headstrong girl was no accustomed to. She'd spent hours in the studio outside of class, and though her work still greatly outclassed her peers by the end of the semester and she'd earned plenty of praise for her work, she wasn't satisfied. She would have been quite content to never touch raw clay again for the rest of her life, but it seemed the powers that be were bound and determined to sour her mood.

Katya marched purposely over to her usual spot near the window, setting her black tote bag on the window sill to keep it free of the dust and grim that coated nearly every inch of the art building's cold, polished concrete floors. She removed a white ribbon from one pouch and carefully tied back her long auburn hair, huffing with frustration as a few locks, too short to reach the pony tail, fell back to partially obscure her face. She had removed a clean canvas apron next and was donning it as the rest of the twenty or so girls in the advanced life drawing class began to fine in, chattering as usual. Katya payed little attention to them as she checked to be sure the protective garment covered the whole of her immaculately clean uniform.

Katya watched as the two factions of students milled about the studio, careful not to mix or mingle. Several of the...less pleasant girls from the invading Life Drawing force began to discuss the untidy state of the room, and the implied character of it's usual occupants, in voices just loud enough for the sculptors to hear. The sculptors, in turn, began to go about their usual pre-class routine of getting out their clay and staking claim to their usual seats, all while holding an impromptu critique of the latest batch of student drawings hanging in the campus gallery.

Despite her sour mood, the fiery haired Russian girl felt a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She'd always been fascinated by power struggles, no matter how pointless and minor they were, and her peers were putting on a rather amusing show, though it lacked subtlety.

Eventually the instructor corralled the students, and set them to their tasks after a short demonstration. Katya took her handful of soft, earthy material from the large bin and carried it, holding it away from her body as if it were some sort of unpleasant garbage she was on her way to dispose of, over to one of the wheels at the very end of a row, occupied almost entirely by her usual peers. She carefully brushed off the dusty seat with her free hand before gingerly taking her place and plopping the clay down firmly on the dirty wheel. Her foot pressed down the petal, sending the disk spinning, and Katya's delicate looking hands quickly went to work. A firm touch quickly got the whirling mass centered and the stoic young woman began to form her bowl as the rest of her displaced classmates struggled and fought with their materials.

After ten minutes or so she sat back, using a hand towel to clean the muddy residue from her tanned skin. the little gray bowl that sat in front of her was simple; low and wide, but with smooth curves and a delicate flare around the rim. She inwardly cursed when she heard Ms. Hazel's bright, enthusiastic voice directly behind her. She'd known this would happen, but her fierce pride wouldn't have allowed her to purposefully throw the assignment.

The sulking redhead trailed a few feet behind the instructor, her normally sharp eyes dull and practically projecting her distaste for everyone and everything around her. They quickly glanced over the young woman Katya had been led to but found nothing particularly interesting. She was gorgeous, but most of Shokushu's student body was unusually attractive. The pieces drying on the shelves behind her were quite skillfully done, but the head girl's mood rendered her incapable of appreciating their beauty.

Katya grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it over to Charlotte's work station, again carefully cleaning it before gracefully taking her seat.

Then Charlotte looked up.

Katya's ice blue eyes widened just slightly as the blond's violet ones locked her gaze in place. She felt...something. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was a bit unsettling, and the young woman's dominate nature triggered a small spike of resentment. Resisting the urge to shake her head to try and remove the odd feeling, Katya listened politely as her temporary mentor spoke, and forced herself to return a quite genuine looking smile.

"It's alright," she replied, carefully enunciating the English. Her suppressed frustration intensified her accent, the one thing that always gave away her mood, the one thing which she'd never been able to control. "To be honest though, I would prefer to be in my regular class."

"Correct. I originally hail from Saint Petersburg." Katya replied, settling back into her seat and crossing her legs in a fluid motion. She placed her carefully manicured hands on her knee, resisting the urge to scowl as she saw a bit of clay marring her carefully manicured nails.

She kept up her pleasant smile though, and her body language read as casual and confidant. Nothing outward gave away how intensely uncomfortable she felt. A good part of her confidence sprang from her skills and authority; the rare situation where she couldn't deny that the person she was interacting with was better than her made the usually unshakable student quite uneasy. She was fully aware that Charlotte was judging her, in a sense, and wondered what conclusions the pretty blond had come to. Katya wouldn't be caught dead admitting that she cared what others thought of her, but on a deep, internal level she did.

"Yes, I'm a painter. You are very astute." The red tressed girl said with a smile, idly wondering if Charlotte had really deduced that, or if her reputation had preceded her. "Have you seen the painting of Zeus and Leda outside the administration offices downstairs? That's one of him." She added, the words coming before she could stop them. Pride was always a weakness of hers, and the painting she referred to was one of her best. She hadn't intended to boast but, well...beautiful, intelligent girls were another weakness.

She breathed a small sigh of relief and quickly composed herself as Charlotte flitted over to wash up. She was more off balance than she'd been in quite a while, and resentment was beginning to build up. It was very difficult to entertain any negative thoughts about the pretty blond though; Katya knew all of her troubles were stemming from her own faults - but then, she saw the flash of pink. The Head Girl had carefully kept her icy eyes off of the sculptor, but with the sudden revelation of this rules infraction, minor though it may have been, she felt herself steady, and allowed herself a more intense, though carefully inconspicuous look at her mentor's undeniably pleasing form.

Katya found herself mentally undressing Charlotte as the girl's movements gave her several more enticing views of the prohibited panties. She came to the conclusion that the girl's bra most likely matched, or was at least something equally interesting. Katya gently bit the side of her tongue to stop herself from grinning too much.

When she began to start talking about her painting, however, Katya's attention snapped away from her lecherous imagination and focused intently on Charlotte's words. When she began to dissect her technique the painter bristled, ready to pounce on the first misconception and correct the girl's mistake. She never got the chance though - Charlotte interpreted the painting, and Katya's intentions, perfectly. She even giggled at the 'fantasy life' comment. Katya never giggled.

"Very, very perceptive..."

She smiled without thinking, and despite her best efforts felt herself quickly warming to the blond. Even her disregard for the rules when dressing this morning were forgiven in Katya's mind (at least until she saw an opportunity to use it to her favor.) The panties did, after all, look quite nice against her fair skin.

When Charlotte returned to her seat the red-haired young woman shifted slightly in her own, altering her pose so that it was a bit more open. Her hips and slender shoulders angled to give her body a subtly seductive quality as Charlotte eyed it. Katya's blue eyes flicked up to the shelf holding the blond's creations and she gracefully rose to her feet, crossing over to it. In the light of her newfound revelations about her peer the statuettes were far more intriguing. She wondered if Miss Hazel had considered their...similar tastes in subject matter when pairing the two up, or if it was just chance.

Her back was to Charlotte as she examined the work, her hips swaying from side to side every so slightly, seemingly lost in though. "I quite like this one." She said finally, indicating the poor nymph and her attackers. The contrast between the brutality of the knights' actions and the innocence of their expressions is quite interesting. But this one," her sender fingers now shifted to point towards the elaborate harem scene, "is my favorite I think. The subtlety of the poses and the intricacy of expression and implied connections, it's all very..." she trailed off, looking just slightly over her shoulder to give Charlotte a bit of a grin.

"Katya Ivanova." she said, abruptly changing the topic as she gracefully turned and held out a hand.

Katya was beginning to like Charlotte. Quite a bit more than she'd like to admit to her self, in fact. Affection was a luxury the young woman couldn't really afford. Her status, her control, her stability all hinged on power, and it becomes increasingly difficult to maintain the proper balance of power when you're fond of your subject. She could have just conceded a small defeat of sorts, and accepted Charlotte as an equal, but the fact that the Russian girl was now dead set on seducing the lovely blonde complicated things. She might have been willing to give up a little power in a normal relationship, but with sex was involved she wanted to hold all the cards.

For a moment, when Charlotte embraced her, the usually unflappable head girl blinked in surprise. She couldn't recall a single instance, in the three years she'd attended Shokushu, when someone had hugged her. She was shocked enough that before she really realized what had happened she'd been released. Only a vague sensory memory lingered, but the deeper implications of the action weren't lost on her.

"Oh I don't know if I can accept such a nice gift..." she said, an obviously faked scandalized tone to her voice. A slightly crooked smile spread across her dark painted lips as her eyes flitted from Charlotte to the collection on the shelves. "Perhaps a trade though...? I have a few paintings up in my studio you might be interested in, if you'd like to come up with me after class."

She didn't wait for an answer, flitting quickly on to the topic at hand as if her offer hadn't contained anything more than the most innocent implications. "Glazing sounds wonderful." she said, a genuinely grateful smile replacing her conspiratorial one. "Are you sure you trust a novice like me with your work though?"

Blue eyes stared intently at the tempting peaks Charlotte was giving her - and Katya was now fully convinced that her new mentor knew perfectly well that her short plaid skirt bounced and flipped with her energetic movements. She was curious as to whether this was her usual behavior, or if she was teasing Katya in particular. It didn't really matter to her either way, though. She rose quickly to her feet when Charlotte took her hand, noticeably perkier than she'd been just a short time ago, and allowed herself to be led.

She felt the angry, accusing stares of her classmates and Charlotte's as they passed through the center of the war zone. The bickering and the snide, petty comments quieted slightly as the pair split the troops, then rose back to their original intensity as soon as they passed. The red-haired girl could feel the students' resentment shift towards their new alliance, bitterness taking root as the two factions saw that she had crossed enemy lines.

A few well placed glares from the authoritative Russian did much to quiet the life drawing students, and the sculptors who recognized who she was, but the resentment was still there, now just silent. She'd have a lot of damage control to do, but for now she was eager to get to the relative seclusion of the back room.

A smirk crossed her lips when Charlotte finally realized who she was. "Oh no, you've discovered my terrible secret!" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm in addition to her usual accent. "Goodness, if my fellow art students don't recognize me I'm going to have to step things up...Maybe I should be handing out more detentions?"

Katya sighed theatrically as she continued on, stepping past Charlotte without releasing her hand, pulling the blond gently along behind her. "Whatever could I punish someone for though...?" she murmured, the question clearly meant for her companion, even though she seemed to be speaking to herself.

Katya wandered slowly through the isles of shelving, critically eyeing the various sculptures and vessels crowding the shelves. The skill levels varied widely, but although a few might have been better than Charlotte's work on a technical level none could match her subtlety or attention to detail.

"Oh sure there's more, but the punishments are the fun part." Katya teased, smirking slightly. Her grin widened and she lightly bit her lower lip as Charlotte mocked a self-administered punishment, stopping herself just before she said something a bit too explicit. She was enjoying their back and forth too much to jump to the conclusion just yet.

"Mmmmmm, choices, choices..." the sanguine-haired girl purred, her accent noticably heavier than it had been at the start of class. She quirked one carefully sculpted eyebrow as she noticed Charlotte's second wardrobe violation. It was difficult to resist the urge to reach out and snap the top of her thigh-high stockings against her creamy skin. Katya liked stockings. She especially liked them when they were all a girl was wearing.

"I think I'll go with all of the above. Just collect a little harem for myself, keep all of you up in my studio. No reason the sultans should have all the fun, right?" She giggled. On impulse, she reached over and gently stroked the tip of one slender finger up the side of Charlotte's stocking-clad thigh, tracing the pink ribbon when she reached the top of it. "I'm sure I could come up with plenty of things you deserve a nice hard spanking for."

She turned away without waiting to see the blonde's reaction, grinning to herself as she began to look through the multitude of plastic jars. She felt almost giddy. It had been quite a while since she'd met another student who amused her so much. Forcing herself to concentrate, the painter picked out an armful of jars with swatches of blues, greens and violets on their lids, though the liquid inside didn't even vaguely resemble the colors they claimed to contain. She gathered up the containers Charlotte had set out with her free arm and swept back towards the main room, sparing a glance over her shoulder as she headed back into the social minefield.

"Ooooooh, terribly evil." Katya said, her voice a low, conspiratorial whisper. Pale blue eyes darted from side to side, checking to be sure no one else was within ear shot, despite the fact that she knew full well they were alone "I hear Shai kicks puppies."

The red-haired girl swept back out into the classroom proper once the blonde had retrieved the last of the supplies they needed, casually glancing at the girls bent over various tables and wheels, still absorbed in their little private war. Charlotte was right, she decided. None of them were quite good enough for her harem. Maids maybe? A Queen always needed more servants...

"Come now, how do you know you won't like it until you try it?" Katya's lovely face tilted towards Charlotte's just slightly as she deposited her armfuls of glaze on their work table, her increasingly familiar smirk spreading across her dark-painted lips again. "Or have you already?"

The painter took her seat opposite the sculptor when their supplies were all in order, pulling a few of her older, cheaper paintbrushes from a pocket in her apron as she settled down again. "I'll be good now, cross my heart." She said, her tone seemingly sincere.

"And I suppose I could let the stockings slip just this once...You owe me now, of course." she said, accent thickening again, just for a few words. "After all, if I made you take off the stockings you'd have to lose those nice pink panties too."