Jean-Paul and Toby | Backdated to 8/10/15
Aug. 10th, 2015 05:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
om_changeling posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
om_mainJean-Paul and Toby discuss the importance of elective selection.
Toby's head was bent over her math assignment, but her eyes darted (not for the first time) towards the occupant of one of the library's other tables. Not, admittedly, because he was good looking, though he was. In fact, he looked a lot like the guy she'd caught a glimpse of on the cover of a swimsuit calendar, though she figured that was too improbable to be true, even around here. No, there was something else that had grabbed her attention, though she wasn't about to admit it, or to come straight out and ask.
What could she say? There was definitely a shortage of people with pointy ears in the world. And unlike hers, which were usually hidden (or mostly) by her hair, his were definitely obvious. Having satisfied herself that yes, she wasn't hallucinating, she smiled wryly and turned back to her Geometry. Apparently there were other elves in the world. Who knew?
"I know people say it's impolite to stare," came the lilting accent from behind her, "but I always thought that was crap. It means you are worth looking at, non?"
Toby startled, then smiled crookedly and turned towards the TA who'd somehow appeared right behind her. "Sorry? I was trying not to be obvious about it."
"Nothing to worry about." Jean-Paul gave her an easy smile paired with a relaxed shrug. "It is weird, non? I spend less time with the students now that I'm a teacher. And I haven't really introduced myself properly since you arrived. Jean-Paul Beaubier, nominally at your service."
"October Daye." Toby relaxed a little and smiled more genuinely. "Toby's fine, though. You're one of the teachers, then?" The name sounded vaguely familiar - possibly someone Summers had mentioned in passing, though she wasn't entirely sure. "What do you teach?"
"I assist with home ec." Jean-Paul's smile twitched a bit wider. "And I tell myself that no, really, a class of two students needs an assistant. It's all about keeping the Madame on her toes."
Toby smirked. "Sounds like a noble goal. I take it she needs that desperately? Or are you just trying to make sure she earns her paycheck?"
"I'm making sure that the students learning about basic self-reliance know that there's life beyond Julia Child." Jean-Paul wrinkled his nose. "Credit where it's due, but still...let's walk before we run, shall we?"
"Or crawl." Toby gave him a look of feigned sympathy for his plight. "If you're looking or basic self-reliance, maybe start with toast? Open a few cans of soup?" She grinned. "Maybe I should take the class; I haven't burned soup in at least a couple of years." Okay, there was that once. But she was still maintaining that wasn't her fault.
"Not the worst idea you could have," Jean-Paul pointed out with a game shrug. "Though I think the coming semester will be my last as a teacher, so do not join just for the scenery."
Toby's eyebrows rose. "High opinion of yourself?"
"If I don't have one, how can I expect it of others?" He grinned, utterly shameless.
"How's that working out for you?" Toby smirked. "Did all two of last year's students sign up for the view?"
"Alas. Jean-Paul heaved a sigh. "Apparently there's no force on Earth than can make the prospect of making Queen of Sheba cake with an exacting old prune a very enticing."
"Now, see, you're talking me out of taking your class," Toby pointed out. "And just when I was hoping to learn how not to burn soup. You really need to work on your sales pitch."
"Ah, but it will not be anything like my class for much longer, will it?" Jean-Paul laughed. "And it would be cruel of me indeed to tempt students into Madame's orbit without any advocate."
"True. But then, that's a whole semester away. I could actually work my way up to grilled cheese in a whole four months." Toby smirked. "Possibly without setting off any smoke detectors."
"I have managed to impart some basic life skills to some of my peers if you're looking for private lessons." Jean-Paul snorted softly as he considered the situation. "Believe it or not, a few of us living in this free-ride mansion know how to fend for ourselves."
"Hey, I know how to fend for myself." Toby gave him an indignant look. "It just never involved cooking."
"Sorry, sorry. But it never hurts to expand one's life skills, non?"
"Not arguing with that," Toby replied, somewhat mollified. "If you want to impart basic life skills, I won't turn it down. I may take the class anyway, though. At least it'd give me a break from homework."
"You think so?" Jean-Paul grinned.
"You're messing with me, right? What kind of homework can you get in Home Ec - go bake a cake?"
"Among other things," Jean-Paul said lightly. "Think of it as a class with a lot of lab hours as part of the requirements."
Toby shrugged and grinned. "At least you get to eat the homework."
Jean-Paul laughed. "You may not always want to. But you are welcome aboard either way."
Toby's head was bent over her math assignment, but her eyes darted (not for the first time) towards the occupant of one of the library's other tables. Not, admittedly, because he was good looking, though he was. In fact, he looked a lot like the guy she'd caught a glimpse of on the cover of a swimsuit calendar, though she figured that was too improbable to be true, even around here. No, there was something else that had grabbed her attention, though she wasn't about to admit it, or to come straight out and ask.
What could she say? There was definitely a shortage of people with pointy ears in the world. And unlike hers, which were usually hidden (or mostly) by her hair, his were definitely obvious. Having satisfied herself that yes, she wasn't hallucinating, she smiled wryly and turned back to her Geometry. Apparently there were other elves in the world. Who knew?
"I know people say it's impolite to stare," came the lilting accent from behind her, "but I always thought that was crap. It means you are worth looking at, non?"
Toby startled, then smiled crookedly and turned towards the TA who'd somehow appeared right behind her. "Sorry? I was trying not to be obvious about it."
"Nothing to worry about." Jean-Paul gave her an easy smile paired with a relaxed shrug. "It is weird, non? I spend less time with the students now that I'm a teacher. And I haven't really introduced myself properly since you arrived. Jean-Paul Beaubier, nominally at your service."
"October Daye." Toby relaxed a little and smiled more genuinely. "Toby's fine, though. You're one of the teachers, then?" The name sounded vaguely familiar - possibly someone Summers had mentioned in passing, though she wasn't entirely sure. "What do you teach?"
"I assist with home ec." Jean-Paul's smile twitched a bit wider. "And I tell myself that no, really, a class of two students needs an assistant. It's all about keeping the Madame on her toes."
Toby smirked. "Sounds like a noble goal. I take it she needs that desperately? Or are you just trying to make sure she earns her paycheck?"
"I'm making sure that the students learning about basic self-reliance know that there's life beyond Julia Child." Jean-Paul wrinkled his nose. "Credit where it's due, but still...let's walk before we run, shall we?"
"Or crawl." Toby gave him a look of feigned sympathy for his plight. "If you're looking or basic self-reliance, maybe start with toast? Open a few cans of soup?" She grinned. "Maybe I should take the class; I haven't burned soup in at least a couple of years." Okay, there was that once. But she was still maintaining that wasn't her fault.
"Not the worst idea you could have," Jean-Paul pointed out with a game shrug. "Though I think the coming semester will be my last as a teacher, so do not join just for the scenery."
Toby's eyebrows rose. "High opinion of yourself?"
"If I don't have one, how can I expect it of others?" He grinned, utterly shameless.
"How's that working out for you?" Toby smirked. "Did all two of last year's students sign up for the view?"
"Alas. Jean-Paul heaved a sigh. "Apparently there's no force on Earth than can make the prospect of making Queen of Sheba cake with an exacting old prune a very enticing."
"Now, see, you're talking me out of taking your class," Toby pointed out. "And just when I was hoping to learn how not to burn soup. You really need to work on your sales pitch."
"Ah, but it will not be anything like my class for much longer, will it?" Jean-Paul laughed. "And it would be cruel of me indeed to tempt students into Madame's orbit without any advocate."
"True. But then, that's a whole semester away. I could actually work my way up to grilled cheese in a whole four months." Toby smirked. "Possibly without setting off any smoke detectors."
"I have managed to impart some basic life skills to some of my peers if you're looking for private lessons." Jean-Paul snorted softly as he considered the situation. "Believe it or not, a few of us living in this free-ride mansion know how to fend for ourselves."
"Hey, I know how to fend for myself." Toby gave him an indignant look. "It just never involved cooking."
"Sorry, sorry. But it never hurts to expand one's life skills, non?"
"Not arguing with that," Toby replied, somewhat mollified. "If you want to impart basic life skills, I won't turn it down. I may take the class anyway, though. At least it'd give me a break from homework."
"You think so?" Jean-Paul grinned.
"You're messing with me, right? What kind of homework can you get in Home Ec - go bake a cake?"
"Among other things," Jean-Paul said lightly. "Think of it as a class with a lot of lab hours as part of the requirements."
Toby shrugged and grinned. "At least you get to eat the homework."
Jean-Paul laughed. "You may not always want to. But you are welcome aboard either way."
