Announcements, Monday Morning

[bigdamnprincipal]

Shortly after the radio broadcast, the PA system screeched to life.

"Good morning. In what I'm sure is an astonishing turn of events, the following people have been elected to the Student Council:

Rilla Blythe
Annie Edison
Quinn Fabray
Caroline Forbes
Toby Logan
Dave Nelson
Petra West
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce

I look forward to seeing you all at our first meeting on Friday."

[Whee! Feel free to react in the comments. :D]

Creative Arts, Monday Period 2, Week 4

[screwyoumarvel]

The students would find, upon arrival in the classroom today, that they each had their own easel set up and waiting for them. "I'd like to begin today by congratulating two of the members of our class on their election to the Student Council," Steve announced once it was time for the class to start. "Annie, Quinn," he continued, smiling at them each in turn if they were present, "congratulations, ladies. I'm sure you'll serve well and with honor in your new posts." Yeah. He just talked like that.

"But that's not art, and art is, after all, what we're here for. This week we'll be working with watercolors." Steve proceeded to give a brief explanation of what watercolors were and how to work with them before saying, "Your subject for the week, if you choose to do so, is to paint something found in nature, though if you'd like to paint something else you're certainly free to do so. You can begin now, and if you have any questions, please ask."

Library, Monday

[faithandscience.livejournal.com]

William was going about his business, reshelving books as usual, when his hand encountered something that could only be described as, well, squishy.

Pulling his hand back from the stacks, he stared in dismay at his fingers, which were coated in peanut butter of all things.

"Oh, that cannot be sanitary," he muttered to himself.

The library was open. And sticky.

Cultural Understanding, Monday.

[ofthe-wilds.livejournal.com]

"So music is an important part of cultural expression," Alistair began. "Every culture has its own songs and bards and forms of dance... well, except for the Chantry, because the Chant is a bit hard to dance to, but who knows? Perhaps some mad innovator will try it. You know, you do a bit of a hop every three words or something."

Digressing, Alistair.

"I would pay to see that," Morrigan added dryly. "I think I heard a tavern drunkard sing the Chant, but Andraste's 'graces' were quite, shall we say, 'enhanced.'"

Totally dirty.

"Now there's a brand of music I've only recently become party to," Alistair said, wistfully. "Tavern drunks singing. Never in tune, but oh-- so good to dance to. Well, if by 'dance' you mean 'vomiting', and by 'good' you mean 'cats screeching'..." Still digressing, Alistair.

"Can the Wardens not hold their liquor? Pity," Morrigan drawled. "The most beautiful sound I have ever heard is the Dalish elves singing during their travels, the sails of their aravels fluttering above the trees." Also, the sound of panicked humans fleeing before them, convinced the elves were going to eat their children, but Morrigan had an odd sense of humor.

"And in the Orlesian Empire, bards and minstrels have a celebrated place in society. Of course, bards are often spies and assassins, but Orlesians do like their games," she continued. "Is music celebrated in your homelands, or banned? Bards can be seditious creatures, and song can be a powerful method of sowing dissent."

"We can hold our liquor, it's just that we've got this one warrior who keeps outdrinking everyone, with predictably comic results," Alistair retorted, somewhat relieved that this momentary bit of 'being civil' around Morrigan had come to an end once again. "But--"

A brief pause.

"...What she said."

An expert on music, Alistair was not. Unless you counted the Chant, which he didn't, really.