Hey, Mervin.

[jamesmcginty]

To BestPilot [@] Free.net
From JMcGinty [@] Free.net

How was the flight?

I am taking a course in first aid. Or a refresher one? I had one for Victorian style emergency triage for ships, but that's hardly modern. So I'm taking another one. The uh - painting class is mostly for the fun of it. I keep feeling like I should apologize for signing up for it, but the teacher's been - all right. He finds my accent quaint.

I have not grumbled about that.

The college is up and going again. The students have started three competing papers. A charming spotty youth that looked about twelve offered a subscription to one to me, and I took him down for coffee and lunch and talked politics. He was of the young and clueless sort, but he looked like he was due a lunch in the world.

He asked if I was good at setting type.

Well, I could toss the name by folks and see if it's dangerous, right? He seemed all right, and it'd be type for all the papers.

Love,

James

Comments

[mervinmcginty]

Well - it's definitely more like visiting Lorena out here. I got frowned at a great deal by some tiny very blond man with the port, but some of the other officials were pretty pleasant. There's a very company town feel to some of the areas. We're kind of planning on being migratory for a while.

Apparently the tiny blond man's son heard me talk in Perth, and wanted to discuss my ideas about engine efficiency in damp weather.

Suddenly, my ship became a lot less suspect. Tedious.

Either way, not troubling you with things like that. Damian got very ill from - I'm not sure what. Stress? Some med. interaction? It started when we loaded up, and got worse on takeoff. Waverly had some anti-nausea meds, and that ended up with Damian being very - chatty and kind of dizzily cheerful, but at least not ill.

Painting sounds amazing. Please send me the lumpiest pear painting, if possible.

As always,
M.

[grand_error]

James has painting today, and Grantaire has, well, R doesn't have much going on here right now. He has a campus studio space, according to the independent study capstone he's slowly dragging himself through, which he mostly uses as extra storage and naptime space, and sometimes a place to hide snacks that he doesn't particularly want his friends to uncover and devour. Joly's an eating machine, he swears, and honestly, Combeferre can be one too. He's got theories about that, but as it is, he's spent the day hanging around up there, splashing some watercolors around half assedly, and bothering the hall-mates who are doing all sorts of other interesting projects.

He might take a pottery class next semester, since he's never really explored it beyond tossing a vase with a hole in the bottom as a teenager at camp, and Pierre's looked fairly cool. And Magdalene has a fantastic looking welding project that he might actually paint at some point in future. The others, he's mostly left alone today, since he's fairly sure that Louis, who gets a lot of mocking for his name, was close to strangling him if he touched his darkroom, so, really.

At any rate, given everything that's just happened, Grantaire's pretty relieved to be getting out of there when he realizes James is almost out of class, and he's hanging around in one of the lobbies, waiting to go and pick him up after, for now. Or maybe he'll sneak over as the class is just about to end, stick his head in the window and make faces. He knows the instructor and they get along well enough he'll probably get a laugh, maybe make him end class a few minutes early. And then he'd get more time with his boyfriend.

That'd be acceptable, wouldn't it?