History of Poisons, Thursday Per 2

[glacial_queen]

Once more into the Danger Shop, dear friends.

This time, the class would enter into a dim forest, filled with tall trees, minimal groundcover, and many fallen trees. The air was damp and cool and the ground slightly soggy. In short, perfect conditions for the various kinds of mushrooms poking up from the soil and clinging to decaying plants.

"Hello, and welcome to our last real class," Karla said, waving to them. She was wearing a t-shirt appropriate to the lesson. "There will be an exam next week, so I suggest you all study your notes--or, at least, make sure you have notes because those will be available for you to use. But that's for next week, today, we're studying mushrooms! Or, more specifically, toadstools!" Your teacher got excited over weird things, it was true. "Technically, there's no specific, scientific definition for what counts as a toadstool, but it's generally taken to mean any of the various toxic fungi that you can happen upon."

( Bless whoever first tried portobello mushrooms paving the way for me. )

Bon appétit!

Self Defense, Thursday

[suitably_heroic]

"All right, so it's exam week next week," Atton said. "I'm going to make you guys run a gauntlet, so today's practice hour."

He pointed to the holographic dummies in the corner. "Getting out of holds," he said, then he pointed towards the range with the moving targets, "Shooting," then he pointed towards the guard standing in front of a door, "Getting away," and then at the stationary dummies, "Hitting things."

He eyed the class.

"Or you can grab a partner and practice fighting again. Keep your shirts on, though. Go."

So he could get back to the important business of 1) looking like he didn't want to be here, and 2) trying not to look like he'd barely gotten any sleep last night.

Library, Thursday (4/16)

[wildandbrave]

Her mother had appeared in her dreams again last night, even though Cosette hadn't been able to approach her with any more success than in her dream the night before that, and it put her in a rather pensive frame of mind. How did she even know that was her mother, when she'd never seen so much as a rough sketch of what the woman looked like? What did her father mean about martyrdom? And why did she have the odd, reassuring feeling that if she kept dreaming about this, she might get some answers to her questions?

Possibly, the number of stories about families that kept popping up for reshelving today weren't helping to take her mind off the subject, but it wasn't a painful subject by any means, just one that prompted a lot of curiosity, so even if she was thoughtful and a bit distracted today she was in perfectly good spirits. *rimshot* She might even have admitted to feeling a little bit eager, inexplicably.

The Art of BS, Thursday, April 16, 2015

[professor-lyman.livejournal.com]

"Right, so somehow next week is time for exams already," Josh said. "So today you have to provide me with your three best arguments about why we couldn't possibly have a test in this class."

He smirked. "I'm not sayin' it'll work, but I want to see you try. You there," he said, pointing to a student, "Skippy. You go first."