fandomhigh | Functional French, Tuesday, Period 2

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Functional French, Tuesday, Period 2

French class met around a large, circular table in the Danger Shop today, which had been programmed to resemble a bustling French bistro. Henry had to shout a little bit to be heard over the background noise.

//Welcome to the Bistrot du Coin//, he said. He'd decided this was the week he'd speak French for the entire class. //This is modeled after a real restaurant in Washington. I hope you're a little hungry even though this is a weird time for a meal, because your assignment this week is to order something off the restaurant's menu. Here's a vocabulary sheet for the day; the ~~moddable~~ waiter will be by in a few minutes. I'm getting the Confit de Canard, for what it's worth.//

//Make polite conversation while you eat, please.//

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Hungrily!

Emma Frost

Peter Bishop

Rilla Blythe ~~who is looking for her sandwich~~

Jonothon Starsmore

Effy Stonem

Clark Kent

Eat! Drink! (Though Henry did have enough sense to program all the wine to be nonalcoholic.) Chat with each other OVER THE DIN!

Peter, being Peter, started off in English today. "I think there's a problem with this menu, I don't see Freedom Fries anywhere."

//Good. Those things belong at Mooby-whatever,// Emma said, making a face. //Why do you want fries this early in the morning?//

Yes, she was going to answer him in French, just to be contrary. It was Emma.

//Poor attempt at humor//, Peter replied. He knew better than to play the snark game with a pretty girl. //I'm more of a bacon and eggs kind of guy, any way.//

//For breakfast, I can see that. I'm more of a sausage and scrambled eggs in the mornings type of girl,// Emma replied, keeping a perfectly innocent expression on her face. //But I'm not going to pass up a chance at some very nice food that I don't have to pay for.//

//Is this even real? If it's fake, will it actually taste?// Peter said, his wording a little clunky as he wasn't exactly fluent. //Or will it just all taste like cardboard?//

//I think it does?// Emma shrugged. //Don't ask me how it works.//

//But is there nutrition?// Peter asked, thinking French was not the right language for this conversation. //Because this room could solve world hunger that way.//

Emma shrugged. //You'd have to ask whoever made it?// she suggested.

"It's so far beyond what is available at home, I try not to think about it too much, or I'll want to investigate where it came from, and if I can get a patent." Totally switching to English, because while Emma had a pretty good grasp on French, she didn't know the words for things like this.

//Good plan// Peter said, before switching to English himself. "I swear, for this thing to actually work there'd have to be a miniature nuclear reactor hooked up to it."

"Under the floor, maybe?" she speculated. "Or maybe giant hamster wheels, powered by gremlins."

"Well, if that's the case, we're going to find it hard to patent in our own universes. Gremlin power doesn't exactly translate well," Peter joked. //Care to tear the place up some day?//

//I am astonishingly adept with a crowbar,// Emma laughed, giving him a wink. //Just don't ask me to put it back together.//

Peter grinned. //Remind me to stay on your good side.//

He wanted that crowbar only used for good. //Though now I know who to get help from when I need to break and enter for prank.//

//Oh darling, I don't need the crowbar to get into places I don't belong,// she teased. //But staying on my good side is usually an excellent plan.//

//So what does it take to get into Emma Frost's good graces?// he asked, playing the smooth operator. //Hopefully there's no...// He paused, unsure of how to phrase it in French. Then he gave up. "Blood sacrifices involved. I've been burned on that kind of scheme before."

//Hardly. That would be tacky,// she replied dismissively.

"I simply require those around me to be intelligent, witty, and remarkably open-minded. Anything less, and a person simply isn't capable of keeping up with my whims."

"Good to know I have the resume," Peter said. "Assuming you don't dismiss open minds that come with a healthy dose of skepticism."

His smile was smug. Though this was usually the style of his smiles.

"Skepticism? For shame, Mr. Bishop," she scolded. "Next, you'll be telling me you don't believe in magic, aliens, or psionics!"

"I've met cases of all three," Peter said, gesturing with a finger. "Even skepticism will believe first-hand experience. Skepticism means you wait for proof, not that you outright disbelieve everything."

"All three, and we still haven't broken you yet? I must be slipping; I need to be more proactive in frightening the new and impressionable," Emma sighed. "Or did you encounter all this before you landed on our shores?"

"I can safely say that I encountered none of them before," Peter said. "But between Jool, Sookie, and Karla I've had plenty of new things to deal with. But you can only break what isn't flexible enough to bend with new situations."

Emma snickered, recalling what Sookie had said about Peter. "Sookie couldn't break a teacup without apologizing a million times, but if you've survived a bout with Karla's magic without your brain leaking out your ears, then you'll live."

"I'm glad to hear you're so flexible."

"It's something I pride myself in," Peter said, more than willing to keep up with this part of the conversation. "But I wouldn't say I completely understand Karla's talents. I do understand that they exist, though."

"Just keep that in mind if she ever starts trying to explain Kaeleer," Emma replied, eyes dancing. "I love my Sister dearly, but she's got a power to induce migraines in the male gender."

WHAT? SHE DID.

Peter nodded at that. "I'll keep it in mind. I tend to try and avoid any and all migraines. I get enough of one from Walter most wees."

"What is his thing with papaya, anyway?" she asked. "Everyone knows that mango is the superior fruit."

"I wish I knew," Peter said. "If I didn't like Sookie, I'd ask her to try and look into that mind of his. But I'm worried it might scar her for life."

"Why? Just because he's a little..." Emma waved one hand expressively. "It might be like a tilt-a-whirl ride, but he doesn't seem that scary."

"You missed the part where he started suggesting we start microwaving rodents instead of papayas so that we'd learn it wasn't just a wavelength that worked on fruit," Peter said, sticking with the example from what happened her on the island. The lab accident, that was still something he was reticent to share.

"Considering the high water content in most fruits, I would think it a safe assumption that anything that worked on the papaya would have similar results in most organisms with a similar tissue ratio," Emma put in dryly. "It's not rocket science."

She gave him a slightly crooked grin. "My best friend outside of Fandom is a bit of a mad scientist. Unless Walter starts vivisecting people, it takes a lot to weird me out."

Peter smiled. That demonstration of her knowledge was actually pretty impressive.

"I don't think we're in danger of that, yet. I hope."

Rilla glanced through the menu and was devastated to realize poutine wasn't on the menu.

Her appealing eyes and terrible nervousness got the waiter to cut her a break when she mispronounced her order of Clafoutis aux poires et son coulis and a heavily sweetened cup of tea three times.

She sipped from her cup and watched how her classmates were faring.

When the waiter came around, Emma beamed at him. "J'aimerais salade de legumes frais en vinaigrette," she said, handing over her menu. "Merci."

She wasn't terribly hungry yet, but it sounded fantastic.

Jonothon found himself idly wondering if anybody would take issue to him just ordering water.

//Je ne peux pas manger. Puis-je avoir une carafe d'eau s'il-vous-plaît?//

Not to drink, of course. Just to muck his fingers around in idly while he watched everybody else eat. It smelled good, at least. He'd certainly give it all that.

Henry winced. //Sorry I keep doing this to you//, he said. //Make it up to you next week?//

Jono needed to take a moment to parse that before simply lifting a shoulder and answering, in English.

//It's something I'm getting used to, I think.// He flicked the water from his fingertips onto the table, and then glanced up Henry's way. //People eat. There's no point bothering to make special exceptions just because I'm here, Mr. DeTamble.//

Everyone kept speaking French. This was making life difficult for Clark. Someday he'd figure things out without repeatedly asking where the bathroom was.

He is chowing down on his duck from his place at the table.

Writing this class made me hungry.

...I shouldn't suggest that one of these classes just be segments of Pierre Escargot from All That, should I?

I would never do that in this Very Serious Academic Class.

I'd mix it up with Kenan's Jean K. Jean segments from SNL.

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Functional French, Tuesday, Period 2

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