Library, Monday

[faithandscience.livejournal.com]

When William came in to the library this morning, it was to find a stack of books at the circulation desk.

Not in and of itself all that odd an occurance, considering where they were. The content of those books, however... they all seemed to be about anteaters. And made particular mention of how the creatures often roved about with scissors, cutting unsuspecting peoples' hair.

As far as William could tell, the books weren't part of some humour series. They were entirely serious. Just... what. What.

Cultural Understanding, Monday.

[ofthe-wilds.livejournal.com]

"Hello, everyone," Alistair greeted, sounding fairly chipper. He was a big fan - a conoisseur, if you may - of the subject matter coming up. You know, the reason why they were in the Danger Shop, with a shut door behind Alistair and Morrigan leading to places unknown. "Today, we'll step off the philosophy and the theology for once, and talk about something a bit more practical. Food! Everybody loves food."

"Theoretically, everyone eats food," Morrigan added. "Unless you are a spirit of some sort, in which case, we look forward to hearing from you today about your alternate means of subsistence."

"Or not," Alistair replied. "If you're some stray Fade spirit looking to cause trouble, let's... go with not."

"Each culture has different culinary tastes," Morrigan said, trying to bring Alistair back on track - even if it was her fault he went off in the first place. "I hope you brought your favorite recipes as you were handwavily told to do. Today, everyone is cooking something representative of their home."

Hey, Alistair was totally on track. He lived on track! He-- ...

Was easily distractible, shut up. "Because food isn't something you can talk about," he said. "You have to taste it." He waved his arm vaguely at the door behind him. "We should have that stocked with whatever food items the Danger Shop knows about, so sorry if we're missing tentacled purple potatoes or some other delicacy from your home world."

"Everyone has to try and taste at least one dish not from their own world," Morrigan continued. "And yes, Alistair and I have to prepare food as well."

A beat.

Alistair narrowed his eyes at her. Expressively. "Are you," he said, suspiciously, "just doing this to poison us all? I knew it!"

Morrigan just stared at him. "Do you even listen to yourself when you speak?"

"Oh, come on," Alistair retorted. "You expect me to believe you can cook?"

"Aye, and well," she retorted. "Do you think I leap from roof to roof, stealing pies from the windows of villagers to feed myself?"

"Morrigan, 'Witch of the Wilds'," he didn't actually make the airquotes, but he did give that title a funny inflection, "Standing in the kitchen, making pies? Yeah, right."

"I didn't say I make pies, but I can cook," she replied mildly. "'Tis not that different from brewing potions, I assure you."

"Hey, I've learned how to cook." Or skewer animals and leave them over an open fire until they were tasty, but po-tay-to, po-tah-to. "So what do you do?"

"You'll find out, now won't you?" Morrigan answered, giving him a slight smirk. "May the best chef prevail."
"If you poison me," Alistair said, his chin high for his closing statement, "I'll know."

Yeah, she'll be really impressed by that, boyo.

Creative Arts, Monday Period 2, Week 5

[screwyoumarvel]

"Oil painting," Steve began, "is probably a form you're somewhat familiar with, as it's been used to create many of your more familiar works of art, including the Mona Lisa." He gave a brief history of the form, then a rundown on how to work with the medium, before telling the students, "Your assignment today is portraiture. It can be a self-portrait, a portrait of someone else in the class, or a portrait from memory. It can be a portrait of someone you made up. It's not like I would know. Have fun with it, and, as always, I'm here if you get stuck or need some help."