The scene within the art room would be one that some people might describe as a bit of a pickle. Thing was, Ariana Moretti knew that there was no one to blame but herself for her current predicament. Ariana knew that no matter what happened within the next thirty seconds, she would be on the hook for every single second of it. There was no other way to describe it - quite simply: she was boned.
Ariana balanced precariously on the paint shelf of the art room, one leg trying to hold the shelf up, the other trying to keep flat against the wall, herself basically suspended in mid-air being the only thing keeping all of the paints and the shelf from tumbling onto the floor.
This was what you got when you cheapened out on your shelving units - or left them unsecured, at least.
((Ariana Moretti continued from Disc Rot))
It had started out as innocently as any typical post-school day might have. Ross was off, practicing for some school project that he was - in his true nature, freaking out about, and that left Ariana devoid of any after-school plans for that particular Friday. Naturally, she'd hemmed and hawed about what to do, when she was suddenly hit by creative inspiration. Fuck it - she'd got to the art rooms and fling paint at an easel for a few hours.
Painting was a bit of an about-face for her, but it had been an awfully long time since she'd taken any kind of art class, and she was still feeling particularly prickly after she'd had that run-in the week before with Max, Misty, and the debauchery in the public library that still stuck in her craw a little. So perhaps, she'd surmised, a little creative outlet wouldn't hurt.
But of course, the paints she'd been looking for had been on the top shelf, and true to form, instead of going for the easy solution of grabbing a chair and standing on top, she'd nimbly jumped up onto the shelf, assuming - wrongly, that it would be anchored in to the wall. So here she hung, having not even made it to the top before the flimsy metal shelf started to tilt over.
"Okay... if I lean back the other way, then maybe..."
Ariana tried to lean the shelf back to a standing position, but quickly realized the error of her ways. Her right foot, that was balancing her on the wall, started to slip down the wall. This ship was about to go under, and it was going to take her down with it. Feebly, she tried to readjust.
It was no use.
"No, nononono, SHIT!"
Ariana was able to land off the shelf on her feet, and since she could see what was about to happen, she raised her hands up, grasped the metal shelf part, and shut her eyes, lowering her head to avoid any splashing paint.
The shelf came tumbling down, and all of the paints with it, some of them only loosely fitted, covering the floor of the art room, the walls of the art room, and Ariana herself with a myriad of differently coloured paints, the buckets rolling around the corner of the art room, leaving a mess all over.
Eyes still shut, Ariana slowly lowered the shelf to the ground, herself small enough to pass through one of the shelves unmolested. As the floor took the weight of the metal shelf, she sighed, and allowed it to crash the rest of the way to the floor with a thud. Now that the immediate danger was over, she took stock. Slowly opening her eyes, she was thankful not to feel the sting of paint in them. That was a good first step.
Unfortunately, that was about all of the good news coming her way.
Her formerly black t-shirt was now stained with a combination of grey, light blue, and a sickly green colour that she could see was coming from a now-empty paint-can labelled 'chartreuse'. Chartreuse. What an offensive colour. It stained her hands, her shirt, and was even in her hair. Her leggings were different colours of orange, and as she sat in a puddle of orange paint, her shoulders sagged.
Whoever the fuck said art came naturally to anyone never beheld this sight.
Defeated, Ariana simply sat there, knowing that the crash would undoubtedly bring someone running. Hopefully, it was someone friendly, and they would be armed with paper towels.
Or a fifth of vodka.