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life's little quirks

a guide to getting past life's little quirks | wednesday | period 2 | august 5

Unlike last week, Loki was back in the classroom, grinning smugly at each student as they entered. Once they'd all settled, he stood up and started talking.

"Welcome back," he greeted. "I hope you all enjoyed you free day last week. Seems I had other things to do and couldn't be here but I am glad to see that some of you stayed and some you...didn't."

He'd be getting to that later.

"Today, we're going to be talking about alcohol." His stomach panged just thinking about alcohol. It was just fucking unfair. "Now, I'm sure most of you have been exposed to alcohol in one form or another. Whether you're a connoisseur, a social drinker, or the one who gets to drag your drunk friends home, there's pretty much now way that you'd miss exposure to alcohol around here."

Or you were him and you had to watch people drink and yearn.

"And, for some of you, this class might be old hat," he said, looking around. "But, if you're going to be out on your own, exposed to all the things life can throw at you, you're gonna need to know how to control your alcohol intake so you can still function. That doesn't mean you can't go out and get rip roaring drunk when it's needed but if you're drink every single fucking day of your life, your gonna kill your liver amongst other things. You need to find your tolerance and stick with it on days you have to function. Don't fucking mix beer and liquor unless you wanna be praying to the porcelain god all fucking night. And for fuck's sake, be careful when a stranger pushes a drink in your hand and you don't know where it fucking came from."

That was just begging for trouble.

"Find a drink you like and fucking stick with it," he advised. "Change it up when you can but if you find something you like, you'll know how many you can drink without taking off your pants, putting a lampshade on your head and singing off tune fucking karaoke. For today, we're going to try and demonstrate the effects of what too much drinking can do to you in everyday situations. Those of you that stayed last week--" Big giant nerds. "--you get to wear beer goggles. Put them on and keep them on for the entire fucking class period. Talk to at least one other fucking person in the class with the beer goggles on. This can be easily solved during the class activity portion. Doesn't have to be a meaningful conversation, just has to be a conversation. For those of you that left class last week, you get to wear this.

Oh, that shirt was just so fugly, Loki couldn't even stand it.

"I wish I could actually give you guys alcohol but that'd probably get my ass fired," he said. "So, after you've got your beer goggles and t-shirts on, pair up and talk about your experiences with alcohol. I don't care if you have no experience, a lot of experience or something in between. Chat about it with a partner while you're wearing your awesome fucking accessories. Get to it."

There was one amused angel at the front of the room, oh yes.

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"Sadly enough?" she said honestly, "I've actually worn clothes more horrific than that. Regularly. Every day, in fact."

"Really?" Of course, he remembered how the second time he'd ever seen her she'd taken away his ability to speak.

"Our clothes were made by my great-grandmother Cee," she explained, "until we turned fifteen. She couldn't really see very well. Or cut straight. Or tailor anything. And I'm pretty sure that most of the fabric she used was stolen from furniture made in the 70s."

He grinned, "That paints a very nice picture. You must not be a fan of large print, then."

She shook her head.

"Or of brown and orange, really," she said as she adjusted the glasses again.

"I love Cee, she really really tried, but it was kind of terrible."

He was not going to laugh at the silly glasses on her face that made him desperately want...no. "Brown and orange are always terrible."

"Unfortunately, one of Eliot's favorite sweaters was brown, orange, and lime green," she said with the beginnings of a smirk on her face.

"It was hideous but one of the most comfortable pieces he had. I just had a lot of flannel."

"There are benefits to flannel," he pointed out with an amused smile. "Warm and cozy come to mind easily."

That made her laugh a little.

"I did mention I was from California, right?"

"You did, I assumed wine country was chilly like the bay." If not he would laugh.

"It could be sometimes, but it wasn't always," and she grinned.

"The flannel was some of my favorite clothes. I wore the most comfortable one when we went to deal with Souhk."

"Do I get to hear about that now, or is it a better story with the whiskey?" Griff wondered.

She looked around for a moment before sitting down.

"I can tell you now if you want."

He pulled a chair close and leaned against the table in his bright tee. "Then I'm all ears, and that's beyond the literal interpretation."

She reached up to try and tap one of them.

"Dork."

It was said, however, with the utmost affection. Even more than when she called Eliot the same.

"They told us that we had to go into the sewers and vanquish the beast within. We didn't know what we were going to do, so we ransacked the basement for supplies. Flashlights, a shotgun-- I mean, I didn't know how to use it, but I was glad I had it. Eliot brought his violin and it's a good thing too, because we almost got attacked by this huge swarm of rats."

He was a dork.

"But he beat them to death with his instrument?" Griff checked, only a little cheekily.

Eyeroll. SO Much eyeroll.

"I think he'd glare at you if you suggested it. That violin is totally his baby."

She leaned back a little farther.

"We'd also found this book that'd talked about a violin player being able to use his music to make the rats come out and do what he wanted. He remembered the music notes that'd been in the book and, since we didn't really have any other choice, he started to play the song. The rats, like one big animal, all stopped and listened like they were hypnotized."

"Right, the pied piper," he nodded, knowing the story but recalling an extra bit about the children following as well.

She was smiling just a little, considering mentioning that she was pretty sure that was her dad, but she left that off. She knew the various versions, but the Mythica Improbiba had had a few different endings for that story listed and she knew better than anyone that things weren't always black and white.

"It totally worked. He managed to get the rats to leave us alone. He also helped us figure out where the 'beast' was waiting.

"The beast being Souhk, a crocodile that, uh... you know the size of our dorm rooms?"

"He was as big as a dorm room?" Wow.

"Uh, no," she said with a shake of her head, "he was bigger. His teeth were like the length of my arm."

She held up her arm for consideration.

"And he was pinned to this little island in the water with this massive spear at his shoulder."

"Ow, wait, do I remember back with the alligator thing, you were friends with him, yeah?"

"Well, not at first. He was a big giant crocodile that we were supposed to 'vanquish' and we had to do it by a certain time or we were dead. But we had a violin and a shotgun."

"And what did you do," he prodded her arm lightly, wanting the story.

She nudged him right back.

"Well, we were going to try and figure out a good place to shoot him, but I couldn't-- it was a living being, you know? I couldn't want to shoot him. Then he started talking."

And then she really hadn't wanted to shoot him.

"Apparently, the spear in his shoulder was from my uncle Aaron."

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