Art School Rivalry by anonymous & Mastermind

Ywn attend art school in an area with a high population of anthros
You chose this school specifically to explore the differences in art between the species and cultures
It's fascinating to see just how the differences in biology alone, let alone culture, affect the artistic tastes of the artists
Humans art generally evolved to have a preference for a rich color palate, fine detail, and meaning hidden behind simile and metaphor
Canine art, on the other hand, favors bold contrast of lighting, strength and motion, and clear meaning likely due to their comparative lack of color vision (hell, some of them can't even differentiate red and green!) and strength in visualizing motion and in low light
Each side has their fans and detractors, though it's somewhat rare for a strong appreciation to cross the species line
Naturally, your own personal style favors the human tradition, plenty of bold colors and double meanings in your works
Not to brag, but you're one of this year's best talents
There's one other who stands above the crowd, though, a canine (you're not sure what breed he is and you feel it might be offensive to ask)
And unfortunately, you've been at each other's throats since you both started here
Even if there were ten of you, you wouldn't have enough fingers (or toes) to count the number of arguments you've have over the "right" way to make a piece
Some of his more groanworthy comments include:
"The entire concept of the 'still life' is emblematic of the issue behind your species' approach. What 'life' can you find in a painting of nothing but stillness? That isn't life, it is STAGNATION, it is DEATH!"
"Your Battle of the Delaware River is simply a mess, Anon. There's such a thing as too much detail, it's so visually noisy it's like a cacophony, not a symphony."
"So this is REALLY just a painting of an apple? No other meaning? The stem doesn't represent a hidden Oedipus complex or a phallus, like usual?"
I mean CHRIST! What a dick! You’re pretty sure he’s never said a single positive thing about your work, which would be FINE since art is SUBJECTIVE, but damn he’s aggressive about it!
Eventually you complained to your teacher, who spoke with him privately
He reported back the next day that the canine critic actually did admire your work, “by quite a great deal, Anon! He’s only criticizing it because he wants to see you get even better!”
Seriously?! What a bold-faced lie!
So even though you feel this isn’t the right thing to do, your anger gets the better of you, and you return the favor
He’s quite skilled himself (though you’ll never admit it to him), with sculpting being his main focus as it lets him place emphasis on form, motion, and ignore color, playing to his species’ strengths
So you begin to comment, rather caustically, in much the same manner as he did to you:
”Wow! Your THIRTY THIRD statue of Caesanthro! Hmmm? It isn’t him? Dear me, I’m sorry, it’s just that I couldn’t tell at all since they’re all NAKED and with NOTHING IDENTIFIABLE to DIFFERENTIATE THEM.”
”So, the theme of this painting is ‘lemmings falling off a cliff’? What…? It’s ‘the pack chases a reindeer’?! Oh dear, but the wolves and the prey all look the same, no wonder it looks like a suicide pact rather than a chase!”
”Very interesting artistic decision to drape this one in ivy. It clashes so heavily with the statues’ native color, I presume it to be a reflection of the character of its creator, belligerent and constantly at odds with everything around it, am I correct?”
That last one REALLY struck a nerve and the two of you then began to hurl half used cans of oil paint and chisels at each other, prompting your teacher to angrily break the fight up and literally drag the two of you to his office
After an hour long dressing down of how “this isn’t how true artists learn and grow” and (not incorrectly) stating this is the sort of thing he’d expect from feuding exes, he gave the two of you an ultimatum
Make nice or get expelled
And he had a brilliant idea on how to do it
Since the two of you were so insistent on ‘critiquing’ each other’s works, the two of you were to create pieces mimicking the style of the other so that you could try to see the good in both sides, and if either of you just used it as another excuse to make a potshot, you’d be finished
And with that, he gave you a deadline, one week, and left the two of you to your devices
And you hate to admit, but you were having hardcore artist’s block
Canine art was so alien to you, where to even start? And you couldn’t hold a candle to his ability to sculpt, limiting your options even further
You wondered, was he having this much trouble…? You hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since your mutual dressing down…
So you decided to do something a little stupid
You picked the lock to his studio when you knew he wouldn’t be there, to see what he was working on
As the studio lights slowly turned on, you found a pair of statues on the large stage
A canine and a human at first glance, with the human facing away from the canine. They seemed vaguely familiar
The human was incredibly finely detailed in a manner you never would have expected from him, but what surprised you even more was the canine
He was never good at conveying emotion, but this time it was loud and on full display. The human’s expression was solemn and aloof, and the canine appeared wracked with sorrow or yearning, his ears flat and the detail on the stone fur indicating distress, one paw extended towards the human’s back like he was reaching in vain for something dear, the other clutching his heart like he was in pain
You inspected the human closer, noting that the canine was in white alabaster whereas the human was intricately shaded with pigment
He had paid an exacting amount of detail to the anatomy
The subtle musculature and curves of the thigh almost seemed suggestive, and the way the human’s hand snaked towards his femoral crease drew attention to the ivy, which you parted to reveal…
… that he had committed to complete anatomic accuracy by actually modelling the genitalia. You distinctly noted the subtle mark of pawpads in the pigment on the human’s genitalia, as well, indicating he was either recently working on them in particular, or…
It was as you were gawking at this discovery that you looked up, only to find it was YOUR face staring back at you coolly, causing you to step back in shock into his workbench on the stage
On it he had placed pictures of apparent references. It appeared the pose was inspired by a pair of late Roman statues called “the feuding lovers”
Additionally, he had printed out a picture of your furbook profile, as a reference for your face most likely
And finally, causing your heart to beat a little faster and your face to turn beet red, it appeared he had printed out almost innumerable pictures of well-endowed human men, and more than just a few of them with said well-endowed human men engaging in hard gay sex
With canines
From COLLARED.com
And just as you read the name of the website, you heard the door to the studio open, causing you to almost have a small heart attack
You quickly hid yourself behind one of the curtains as none other than the artist himself rounded the corner, looking pensive

fine, I'll try and continue it

he walks up to his most recent work and circles it, like he's not absolutely sure if it's exactly what he had in mind
then he stops short as he notices the ivy you left aside. his gaze wanders over to his workbench where his printed pages are all over the place, instead of being neatly stacked. he turns around, sniffing the air once, twice, his expresion shifting from confusion to anger
oh fuck, can he smell-
"ANON!!!" he shouts "I KNOW YOU'RE HERE! STOP HIDING!!"
well, there's no way of hiding from a canine. you slowly move from behind the curtain, unsure of what to do. confront him? apologize? ignore him and just walk out?
he approaches you furiously "Anon what the hell are you doing here! going through my stuff, what was your plan?? just copying my art? or destroying my work so your own would look better?? how dare you!!" he hits you against the chest in some blind rage, no claws, just a clenched fist
you've still not come to terms with everything you saw in the past couple of minutes, but you feel you needed to add something to that - one-sided, so far - conversation
"you're the one to talk! all these months you've been excoriating me and my art in an almost degrading way, mocking me, pulling me to pieces, like I was your arch enemy. but now-" you gesture vaguely in the direction of the freshly crafted statue "you create this! I mean, why is that shaped after me?? don't tell me you just made it for that challenge! and why the hell did you need to print out so much porn? I mean, sure, inspiration for your work is fine, but this is on a completely different level."
he stops dead in his tracks and his eyes go wide. he looks as if you just slapped him right across the face, his ears turn crimson red, then fold flat against his head. "wha- you saw..? i-it's not what you think-"
"It's not what I think?! What exactly SHOULD I think about you printing photos of me out and making... THIS?! You're always ripping into me and demanding explanations on MY works, so let's hear something from you this time!"
The confidence and righteous anger he had carried when calling you out on trespassing is now completely vanished. His snout was now subtly trembling, the fur of his tail bristled and tucked between his legs, his hackles just barely raised past the collar of his sweater vest
After an audible gulp, he finally found enough resolve to reply, but only in a timorous whisper:
"L-look, Anon, I... I was only harsh on your work b-because I r-really like it. I can't help it! When I see something I like, I want to make it even better, it's just how I am. I didn't mean to get under your skin or hurt your feelings...!"
"Yeah right! If that were case we wouldn't even have to do this stupid get-along-project, but you couldn't take what you dish out! And you STILL haven't answered my question, either! What's the deal with you printing out my photo?! And all of this... 'COLLARED' stuff?!"
Without even really thinking about it, you had stepped forward, threateningly, with your finger pointing with an accusatory lean towards his works
His eyes widened, his hackles raised even further, and this time he couldn't find the courage to reply, so you filled the silence with your own angry tirade
"What, didn't have enough fun dressing me down in person so you figured you'd do the same but in sculpting clay?!"
You were too busy fuming angrily in his general direction to notice the profound shift in his body language. He was full on trembling now, shrinking into himself with every step forward you took. His lupine pupils pinpoint, shaking with the rest of his body, and his breathing shallow and rapid like he was having a panic attack
"Well?! Have your criticisms and snarky remarks finally run out this time?! Answer me!"
"I... I...!"
"You WHAT?! God, spit it out already!"
Finally, something in the canine snapped. Tears welled up in his eyes, and instead of a reply in his usual holier-than-thou tone, you were greeted with anguished sobbing
"B-because I like you...! And I couldn't find a way to say it, so I tried to do it the only way I knew how...!"
He... w-what...?
Just as it starts to dawn on you that you've made a grave error and take a step back, his sobbing worsens, tears stream down his snout and stain his pelt, and he yells out in a pained howl:
"D-damn you...! It wasn't enough to insult my art, now you have to trample on my heart, too?! Go to hell, Anon!"
You want to yell out to him, to tell him to stop or that you're sorry, but all words fail you as he turns tail and runs out of his studio, his tears leaving dark splotches between the layers of pigment and clay dust matting the floor
And just like that, you were left alone in the silence of his dimly lit studio
Your heart was racing and you felt an almost indescribably complex mix of emotions
Confusion, anger, regret, and something else you hadn't ever felt before that made your heart beat faster, the hair on your neck and forearms raise, and made you say things you never would have otherwise
Shit. You REALLY fucked things up this time
Not only did you break into his property, but you had just inadvertently outed him and then broken his heart, too
If you weren't absolutely guaranteed to be getting expelled before, you DEFINITELY were now
God... why did things end up like this?!
You let out a long, deep and anguished sigh as you collapsed onto his artist's stool, locking yourself into your best organic impression of Auguste Rodin's 'The Thinker'
For as frustrating of an individual to interact with as he is, you didn't want to break his heart...
He was overly critical, perfectionist, eccentric, idiosyncratic and unpredictable, sure, but you couldn't deny he was incredibly talented
Hell not just talented. In truth, his work was incredible
And his statues, the ones you had just had a row over, were masterworks
It was hard to believe a first year student had made them. They were museum quality, and nothing you had ever puked out onto the easel came close, that was certain
Maybe that's why it hurt so much when he would rip into your own works...?
But it didn't justify you acting that way back to him, especially after he...
... c-confessed to you...
...
For that matter, you had no idea how to make sense of what you felt towards him
Not now
He had been occupying your thoughts for so long, but you had never taken a step back to take a look at the whole frame, to find the meaning behind it all
There's some irony, you calling yourself an artist and not even being able to manage that...
And then you remembered. He had said something about not being able to find a way to say how he felt, didn't he. Was this how he felt too?
Well... if that's the case...
Then you knew what you had to do!
Given that he rarely painted, he had plenty of spare brushes gathering dust by his sink
You grabbed one, raided his pigment drawer, grabbed his stool, stole one his berets for good measure too, and then slammed everything down on his stage with a view of his statues as your reference
You let your heart do most of the thinking as you started mixing your colors
You needed a dark, high contrast piece to emulate how their senses worked. No greens, only reds. Rough texture, broad brush strokes in black giving way into a softer, more vibrant, heavily shaded ochre, like flesh...
The image of his hackles raised, his ears twisted in discomfort, the vulnerable crimson of the flesh hiding beneath the velvetine fur covering it...
You needed clear, well defined movement in both figures to match the kinetic, visual style of your study...
Hours flew by with time losing all meaning in the face of your focus
Naught mattered but the brush
Your fingers moved faster than your thoughts as you translated the complex melange of emotions in your heart into each stroke
Your senses screamed at you, trying to tell you that you needed sleep, food, water, but you could not listen!
Nothing else mattered but this! And on you painted, painstakingly adding detail after detail until each section was perfect! No, it had to be MORE than perfect! You kept painting and painting, until...
...
"Anon."
The voice rang out, but you were a million miles away. None could wake you from your slumber
"Anon!"
There it is again. That familiar voice. But your head hurts, and your fingers hurt, and your heart hurts. You wished it would just let you slee-
"ANON, WAKE UP THIS INSTANT YOU IMBECILIC FUCKING APE!!!"
Just as you jolted back into waking consciousness on realizing who the voice belonged to, you were hit face first with a half of a bucket full of chalk dust for good measure
Memories of the night before came surging back as your lungs fought back valiantly at your nemesis' attempt to give you mesothelioma
That's right... you had broken into his place, found his statues and all of that risque reference material, screamed at each other, and then...
You must have eventually fallen asleep after slaving away at your own response piece
But... wait, does that mean he saw it...!?
"Yeah, idiot, of course I did. Kind of hard not to when you come back to your own room only to find that the intruder from earlier not only hasn't left, but has helped himself to your supplies and then falls asleep on the floor right in front of it."
Uh... then...
"Well, let's get right to it, then, shall we? Time for the criticism."
So this is how he was going to be? Fine...
After all, with how you had treated him earlier, you deserved this, didn't you?
"First, the medium. I see you tried to get out of your comfort zone by painting pottery instead of a canvas. That's commendable, I suppose, though your lack of experience in it is fairly evident."
You had finally wiped away enough of the chalk dust from your eyes to open them
He looked horrible, like he had been up crying all night, with his fur sticking out at odd angles and his sclerae bloodshot and red, but his composure and tone were still proud and cock-sure as he paced around your work, a painted kylix vase (you took one of his as the base) in the ancient Greek style made as a complement to his antiquated alabasters
"Next, the subject. I see it's heavily based off of 'Achilles Binding Patroclus' Wounds', but with the two figures being us, instead."
Of course he would instantly know what piece what you referencing...
"The canine sits with a wound not to his spear arm, like the original, but to his heart. He looks away from his companion, avoiding his gaze. But the human persists, trying to wrap and bind the wound with an uneven, uncertain but gentle touch. His gaze is not on the wound, but on his partner's eyes, conciliatory. Regretful, even. But determined."
As he walked, his tail swished in evenly timed strokes, almost looking like a brush the way it picked up clay dust and flecks of paint at its tip
"The overall composition is two-toned, but darker and with higher contrast than even the human-made original. There is clear intention made to place emphasis on motion, particularly the human's hand going towards the canine's heart, a concession made for a non-human audience. The technique is rough and imprecise, but I suppose laudable, if only for a first attempt."
Finally, he stopped after having paced a full 360 degrees around it, and turned to face you. His expression was unreadable but his composure unshaken
"And finally, the meaning. I believe I know what it is, but i'd like to confirm it with the piece's author. Shall I?"
"I think it's meant... as an apology."
You sheepishly nodded your head, but still couldn't meet his gaze
"But I think there's even more than that, too."
He slowly began to walk towards you, squatting right in front of you and letting his tail flop down into the pile of chalk from earlier
"And... I think you're also trying to tell me... that you feel the same way, aren't you? Anon?"
He was so close to you that you could hear and feel his breaths
And just as you went to finally meet his gaze, you instead felt a paw on your chin as he lifted it up and made contact with your lips with a kiss
Despite his confidence, his tongue was surprisingly sheepish in entering your mouth, pressing against your lips a few times as if to say "let me in, please?" before finally having enough and forcefully breaking through
He tasted like cheap beer, starving artist and chalk dust, but to you it was delicious all the same
The two of you lay there for a while on the floor, locked in that same kiss, until you finally had to break it to gasp for air
The dust he had kicked up made you start coughing, too, but he didn't seem to mind, laughing as his tail proceeded to kick up even more
"Well, it was a very unorthodox way of saying it, but apology accepted, Anon. It's a beautiful piece."
After catching your breath and building up the balls to actually speak again, you finally replied:
"Thanks, but your statues are even better. They're incredible. I'm not even sure if you'll need to submit a final piece for graduation now that you have those."
"Thanks, Anon, but never say anything like that ever again. An artist can never let themselves stop improving on their works! And besides, I already have an excellent idea on what i'll do next!"
"Oh yeah? And what would that be?"
A coy, wolfish smile erupted onto his snout as he gazed hungrily at you, like you were prey
"How do you feel about posing nude?"

-Fin-