fandomhigh | Fandom High Welcome Picnic, Front Lawn of the School, All Day: Part III

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!event: welcome picnic

Fandom High Welcome Picnic, Front Lawn of the School, All Day: Part III

And over here was another section of tables and chairs, still close to the food so no one accidentally starved while trying to avoid the masses.

[OCD is up! This is the SECOND post for general mingling. Use this post if your browser can't handle the comment load of the first mingling post. Roommates, fake siblings and teachers are here.]

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"Pies," he said happily. "Just about any kind. Big, little, sweet, not so sweet. Pies. Yeah."

Lola couldn't help but grin at his enthusiasm. "I would like to try one of your pies, some time."

"I'll make you one," Ned said, always happy to talk shop. And spread the pies around. "I'm supposed to be making an insane amount for someone for a party too so you might get one there. Not a cook?"

"Nein. I can microwave dinners."

"Which is sometimes even better than cooking," he joked. "Harder to ruin a microwave dinner than a dinner you make yourself. No chance of using flour instead of sugar or something."

"And harder to burn it." Though she had skills in that area, too. "Maybe I can learn to cook here, too. Do they have classes?"

"I think they might," he said thoughtfully. "I'm taking one on surviving my own cooking. I'm...hopeful that we're not making anything deadly."

Lola blinked. "I hope so, too. I am taking Art and History. Maybe not so exciting."

"I'm taking an art class too," he said. "Are you taking the hands on one?"

Lola nodded. "Yes. That is it. You are in it, too?"

"Yep," he said and nodded. "Figured maybe I could learn how to draw anything but stick figures. Finger painting would be a step up."

"You paint fingers?"

"Well, no." He paused. "Well, you can! But, finger painting means, instead of a brush, you use your fingers. It's messy but it's fun."

Lola laughed. "I could guess that, ja. But I thought it was best to be sure."

"See why I stick to cooking," he said and laughed. "Let me loose on paints and the laundry bill would be enormous."

"Or your laundry would be avant-garde."

"Yeah." He winced. "I'd have to borrow clothes or something. Or wear a sheet. Which I don't ever want to do."

"But it might suit you."

"A sheet?" he asked, fighting off a blush at that.

"Like the Greeks, yes?"

"I am not built like that," he said and laughed. "Far, far from it."

Lola grinned back. "Then we will get you an apron, so your clothes do not become avant-garde."

"I have an apron!" He nodded. "I never thought of using it for art though. I use it when I cook so I don't splatter myself with flour or batter."

"Maybe an art apron, then. So you do not get your cooking apron art-dirty."

"Maybe." He thought about it. "Of course, I'm not very coordinated so you might end up seeing me with paint in my hair and on my face."

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