Log: Layla and Sam, Wednesday afternoon
Nov. 16th, 2011 03:22 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsSam runs into Layla in the hallway as she's carrying some tasty strudel. He now has a new favourite!
Having just finished prepping for some of his classes next week, Sam left his office and was headed back to the suite he shared with Kurt. It was important that he plan his lessons far ahead of time this year, what with his new assignment to English instead of the much more familiar field of History. It was refreshing though, and change was good, as long as he kept on top of things of course.
Walking through the halls, he spied a familiar face in one of his students. He waved to catch Layla's attention, slowing down to talk with her if she wanted to. "Hey there Layla. How's the Shakespeare coming along?" They were covering Macbeth in class and he'd assigned a portion of it to her and the other students to read over the weekend.
"Still old and dead," she chirped. Layla smiled, trying to look innocent or cute or whatever would distract him from how she had not read any Shakespeare on her own since he had assigned it. Maybe the library in town had a Cliff's notes on it. "You know Shakespeare totally doesn't write in English, right? He writes in like fall-down-drunk or something." Man, did she ever hate that guy and his forsoothing and shit. She shifted the plate she was holding from one hand to another. Technically some of what was under the tin foil was intended for Mr. Guthrie since he had a serious hard on for pumpkin like she did. The rest was for Herr Wuschelig. Which meant she could totally change the topic. "Hey, do you know where I can find Herr-uh, Sefton?" Mr. Guthrie would have no idea what a Wuschelig was, after all.
"To sleep, perchance to dream." he quipped back at her, grinning. Sam probably had a copy of the Cliff's notes himself somewhere, actually. "It's true, he does have his own style, but once you get used to it it's really quite beautiful and interesting." That's what he was trying to get across to them, at any rate. Layla was right to go light on the German, as Sam really would have had no idea. "I think he might be up in our suite, or he was earlier today at any rate." The tin foil covered plate totally did not go unnoticed by Sam. "Anything I can help you with, Layla?"
Completely side-stepping the entirety of Shakespeare and how he was probably more likely to throw her into a narcoleptic fit than inspire awe and wonder, Layla grinned. "Oh, well, he taught me to make strudel after my first week in his class. You know, because some of my teachers are not above negotiating mutually beneficial deals with me." Her hips swung from side to side, causing Layla to sway where she stood. "And I finally got it down on my own. So I thought I would improvise and adapt. Turns out there are already recipes for my first generation experimenting, but mine came out pretty awesome the second time around. And then there was more experimenting and adapting...and I thought he should get some spoils of war and stuff."
"Strudel huh?" That sounded like a very valuable lesson indeed. "Well, I'm glad you managed to get it down on your own. Improvising is a good thing, too, improving on things and putting your own touch on it." Sam looked back down at the plate which Layla was holding. "So, uh, what kind of experimenting, exactly?" She had piqued his curiosity and all other thoughts of Shakespeare and Macbeth were put on the backburner for the time being.
Grinning, Layla turned and headed off toward the stairs to make her way up to the teacher suites. "Oh, you know, I like fall. So I was like 'what screams "fall" but goes in your mouth? And is edible?' And, obviously, that's apple. And pumpkin. And you know how I feel about pumpkin. So pumpkin strudel was born. It's like pumpkin pie...but in a strudel. And amazing." She was intentionally keeping the plate in the hand furthest from her English teacher. "And then I thought, 'what if you put apple pie and pumpkin pie together? But in a strudel?' Apparently you get death by amazing. So I figured I would share with Herr Wuschelig since he taught me to make strudel in the first place. And it's like...German Americana or something this way." She grinned again, clearly very amused at her own cleverness.
Sam was headed back that way himself so he fell into step beside his student, listening as she explained. "Oh yeah, I do, and I share the sentiments, heh." Pumpkin was something they both had discussed in great length on the journals together, and he'd previously shared some of his pumpkin donuts with Layla. "Pumpkin strudel, that really is genius." Was that him or did his stomach rumble ever so slightly that time? Coughing to cover up the noise, Sam kept walking with Layla, nodding at her explanation. "I'm sure Kurt will appreciate that very much, Layla." He wasn't sure exactly what she'd just called him but his German was practically non-existent so that didn't really surprise him at all.
"I'm his favorite," she declared without really caring whether or not it was true. She was awesome, actually paid attention in class, did her homework and then went bouncing around on a net when she failed to do something right on a trapeze. Seriously, there was no way someone else was more awesome than her. At least that was her story publicly and she was sticking to it. "Did you ever get those pumpkin cookies I left you?"
He nodded, it would be hard for her not to be his favourite when she was able to make such an excellent new kind of food as the pumpkin strudel sounded like it was. "Oh, yeah, I did. Thank you very much, Layla, they were delicious." Sam wasn't about to mention how fast he'd torn through the entire batch, though he had left them out at the suite and was more than willing to share them with Kurt. He just ate the vast majority of them within a 24 hour period was all. "I've got the container back up in the suite, I can return it to you now when we get there."
"Dude, it's not like it's my container. I stole it from the kitchen that's also not mine that I totally appropriated to make them. But you could totally sow how deep your appreciation is by washing it." Layla grinned. Finding ways to try to boss around teachers was really one of the small joys in life. They told her when to show up and where to show up and what she had to do for an hour most days of the week. The least they could do was humor her by washing a Tupperware container or something.
Sam had already washed it once he'd polished off all of the cookies. It's what his ma would've wanted him to have done, after all, to return the container in a clean condition. It's the least he could've done after enjoying the kick-ass treats they'd contained. "Roger, I'll drop it back to the kitchen sometime, then." When food was involved like that it was no trouble at all to make them bend to her will, to some degree, anyway.
"Someone totally trained you really well," Layla noted, a bit in awe. "So, hey, truth? Some of these are actually for you." She smiled. "I wanted to see if I could make you squirm over the pumpkin awesomeness and the prospect of having to convince Herr Wuschelig to share. Sadly," she sighed heavily, "you seem unsquirmable. Which is way less amusing for me but I guess I'll have to settle for making Mister Hamster Man squirm. Though I don't think he appreciates the humor nearly as much."
"She tried her best, God love her, heh." He grinned and then looked back down at the plate. "Oh, wow, that's very kind of you, thank you so much." Sam chuckled at the admission, shaking his head a little. "I'm definitely not squirm proof. Maybe a little squirm resistant, I reckon." More chuckling ensued at the mention of Mister Hamster Man, as he was pretty sure he knew who that might have been. "Well, I can't speak on behalf of that person, but I for one can certainly appreciate the humour in that nickname at least."
"And that would make two out of three. He twitches whenever I use it." Layla sighed and shrugged, then peeled back some of the foil and held the plate up to her teacher. "I will give you one early admission to the strudel, just for having a sense of humor unlike some people." She eyed him suspiciously, though hardly meant the look. "But if you tell Herr Wuschelig you abdicate all rights to sneak previews in the future."
Sam chuckled at that, then his face visibly lit up at getting early access to the strudel, 'cause dude. Whoa. He raised one of his hands in the good ol' boy scout salute again, something he'd been able to make use of a lot lately, and put on as serious a face as he could muster. "I solemnly swear that I will not breathe a word of this to anyone, as long as I live." His eyes fell to the plate, then back to Layla, waiting to see if she was ok with his solemn oath before digging in for a little bit of the goodness inside.
She eyed him skeptically for a few paces, then offered up the plate for his choosing. "These ones are just pumpkin," she informed him, pointing to strudel piled on one side of the plate. "The others are apple pumpkin. Choose your fate, Scout Guthrie!" She grinned at him again. These were the sort of teacher-student relationships worth fostering, ones that involved copious amounts of food to buy favor.
His eyes went straight to the pumpkin ones when Layla pointed them out and they did not waver for one second away from them. Apple was just fine but, well. Pumpkin. He licked his lips in anticipation and reached out, taking one of the pumpkin ones, grinning at the warmth of said pastry. Oh man. Quickly raising it to his mouth, he took a big ol' bite out of it, forgetting his manners for a second as he was lost in the pumpkiniciousness of the moment. "Mmmm, fanks!" It was difficult to talk around a mouthful of pastry, whoops. He was all for fostering this kind of teacher-student relationship.
Layla laughed and covered the plate back up. "Didn't your momma ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" She obviously didn't care, though, because she was grinning something fierce. "That's rude or some shit. Seriously, I'm an impressionable kid here. What kinda example are you setting?" Her scolding came with some finger wagging and narrowed eyes, but they hardly found effect given the smile she couldn't get off her face.
Sam was about to explain that she certainly did and he'd just forgotten about it in the heat of the moment, but he stopped himself because he was still chewing intensely. Instead he just nodded, trying to look remorseful, but it was hard to do so with a big ol' pumpkin eatin' grin plastered all over his face. Smacking his lips and licking his fingers once he finished, he finally spoke. "You're right, I sincerely apologize. It won't happen again, promise." He was grinning just as much as she was, though, because mmmmm, pumpkin. Layla just might have become his favourite student.
Having just finished prepping for some of his classes next week, Sam left his office and was headed back to the suite he shared with Kurt. It was important that he plan his lessons far ahead of time this year, what with his new assignment to English instead of the much more familiar field of History. It was refreshing though, and change was good, as long as he kept on top of things of course.
Walking through the halls, he spied a familiar face in one of his students. He waved to catch Layla's attention, slowing down to talk with her if she wanted to. "Hey there Layla. How's the Shakespeare coming along?" They were covering Macbeth in class and he'd assigned a portion of it to her and the other students to read over the weekend.
"Still old and dead," she chirped. Layla smiled, trying to look innocent or cute or whatever would distract him from how she had not read any Shakespeare on her own since he had assigned it. Maybe the library in town had a Cliff's notes on it. "You know Shakespeare totally doesn't write in English, right? He writes in like fall-down-drunk or something." Man, did she ever hate that guy and his forsoothing and shit. She shifted the plate she was holding from one hand to another. Technically some of what was under the tin foil was intended for Mr. Guthrie since he had a serious hard on for pumpkin like she did. The rest was for Herr Wuschelig. Which meant she could totally change the topic. "Hey, do you know where I can find Herr-uh, Sefton?" Mr. Guthrie would have no idea what a Wuschelig was, after all.
"To sleep, perchance to dream." he quipped back at her, grinning. Sam probably had a copy of the Cliff's notes himself somewhere, actually. "It's true, he does have his own style, but once you get used to it it's really quite beautiful and interesting." That's what he was trying to get across to them, at any rate. Layla was right to go light on the German, as Sam really would have had no idea. "I think he might be up in our suite, or he was earlier today at any rate." The tin foil covered plate totally did not go unnoticed by Sam. "Anything I can help you with, Layla?"
Completely side-stepping the entirety of Shakespeare and how he was probably more likely to throw her into a narcoleptic fit than inspire awe and wonder, Layla grinned. "Oh, well, he taught me to make strudel after my first week in his class. You know, because some of my teachers are not above negotiating mutually beneficial deals with me." Her hips swung from side to side, causing Layla to sway where she stood. "And I finally got it down on my own. So I thought I would improvise and adapt. Turns out there are already recipes for my first generation experimenting, but mine came out pretty awesome the second time around. And then there was more experimenting and adapting...and I thought he should get some spoils of war and stuff."
"Strudel huh?" That sounded like a very valuable lesson indeed. "Well, I'm glad you managed to get it down on your own. Improvising is a good thing, too, improving on things and putting your own touch on it." Sam looked back down at the plate which Layla was holding. "So, uh, what kind of experimenting, exactly?" She had piqued his curiosity and all other thoughts of Shakespeare and Macbeth were put on the backburner for the time being.
Grinning, Layla turned and headed off toward the stairs to make her way up to the teacher suites. "Oh, you know, I like fall. So I was like 'what screams "fall" but goes in your mouth? And is edible?' And, obviously, that's apple. And pumpkin. And you know how I feel about pumpkin. So pumpkin strudel was born. It's like pumpkin pie...but in a strudel. And amazing." She was intentionally keeping the plate in the hand furthest from her English teacher. "And then I thought, 'what if you put apple pie and pumpkin pie together? But in a strudel?' Apparently you get death by amazing. So I figured I would share with Herr Wuschelig since he taught me to make strudel in the first place. And it's like...German Americana or something this way." She grinned again, clearly very amused at her own cleverness.
Sam was headed back that way himself so he fell into step beside his student, listening as she explained. "Oh yeah, I do, and I share the sentiments, heh." Pumpkin was something they both had discussed in great length on the journals together, and he'd previously shared some of his pumpkin donuts with Layla. "Pumpkin strudel, that really is genius." Was that him or did his stomach rumble ever so slightly that time? Coughing to cover up the noise, Sam kept walking with Layla, nodding at her explanation. "I'm sure Kurt will appreciate that very much, Layla." He wasn't sure exactly what she'd just called him but his German was practically non-existent so that didn't really surprise him at all.
"I'm his favorite," she declared without really caring whether or not it was true. She was awesome, actually paid attention in class, did her homework and then went bouncing around on a net when she failed to do something right on a trapeze. Seriously, there was no way someone else was more awesome than her. At least that was her story publicly and she was sticking to it. "Did you ever get those pumpkin cookies I left you?"
He nodded, it would be hard for her not to be his favourite when she was able to make such an excellent new kind of food as the pumpkin strudel sounded like it was. "Oh, yeah, I did. Thank you very much, Layla, they were delicious." Sam wasn't about to mention how fast he'd torn through the entire batch, though he had left them out at the suite and was more than willing to share them with Kurt. He just ate the vast majority of them within a 24 hour period was all. "I've got the container back up in the suite, I can return it to you now when we get there."
"Dude, it's not like it's my container. I stole it from the kitchen that's also not mine that I totally appropriated to make them. But you could totally sow how deep your appreciation is by washing it." Layla grinned. Finding ways to try to boss around teachers was really one of the small joys in life. They told her when to show up and where to show up and what she had to do for an hour most days of the week. The least they could do was humor her by washing a Tupperware container or something.
Sam had already washed it once he'd polished off all of the cookies. It's what his ma would've wanted him to have done, after all, to return the container in a clean condition. It's the least he could've done after enjoying the kick-ass treats they'd contained. "Roger, I'll drop it back to the kitchen sometime, then." When food was involved like that it was no trouble at all to make them bend to her will, to some degree, anyway.
"Someone totally trained you really well," Layla noted, a bit in awe. "So, hey, truth? Some of these are actually for you." She smiled. "I wanted to see if I could make you squirm over the pumpkin awesomeness and the prospect of having to convince Herr Wuschelig to share. Sadly," she sighed heavily, "you seem unsquirmable. Which is way less amusing for me but I guess I'll have to settle for making Mister Hamster Man squirm. Though I don't think he appreciates the humor nearly as much."
"She tried her best, God love her, heh." He grinned and then looked back down at the plate. "Oh, wow, that's very kind of you, thank you so much." Sam chuckled at the admission, shaking his head a little. "I'm definitely not squirm proof. Maybe a little squirm resistant, I reckon." More chuckling ensued at the mention of Mister Hamster Man, as he was pretty sure he knew who that might have been. "Well, I can't speak on behalf of that person, but I for one can certainly appreciate the humour in that nickname at least."
"And that would make two out of three. He twitches whenever I use it." Layla sighed and shrugged, then peeled back some of the foil and held the plate up to her teacher. "I will give you one early admission to the strudel, just for having a sense of humor unlike some people." She eyed him suspiciously, though hardly meant the look. "But if you tell Herr Wuschelig you abdicate all rights to sneak previews in the future."
Sam chuckled at that, then his face visibly lit up at getting early access to the strudel, 'cause dude. Whoa. He raised one of his hands in the good ol' boy scout salute again, something he'd been able to make use of a lot lately, and put on as serious a face as he could muster. "I solemnly swear that I will not breathe a word of this to anyone, as long as I live." His eyes fell to the plate, then back to Layla, waiting to see if she was ok with his solemn oath before digging in for a little bit of the goodness inside.
She eyed him skeptically for a few paces, then offered up the plate for his choosing. "These ones are just pumpkin," she informed him, pointing to strudel piled on one side of the plate. "The others are apple pumpkin. Choose your fate, Scout Guthrie!" She grinned at him again. These were the sort of teacher-student relationships worth fostering, ones that involved copious amounts of food to buy favor.
His eyes went straight to the pumpkin ones when Layla pointed them out and they did not waver for one second away from them. Apple was just fine but, well. Pumpkin. He licked his lips in anticipation and reached out, taking one of the pumpkin ones, grinning at the warmth of said pastry. Oh man. Quickly raising it to his mouth, he took a big ol' bite out of it, forgetting his manners for a second as he was lost in the pumpkiniciousness of the moment. "Mmmm, fanks!" It was difficult to talk around a mouthful of pastry, whoops. He was all for fostering this kind of teacher-student relationship.
Layla laughed and covered the plate back up. "Didn't your momma ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" She obviously didn't care, though, because she was grinning something fierce. "That's rude or some shit. Seriously, I'm an impressionable kid here. What kinda example are you setting?" Her scolding came with some finger wagging and narrowed eyes, but they hardly found effect given the smile she couldn't get off her face.
Sam was about to explain that she certainly did and he'd just forgotten about it in the heat of the moment, but he stopped himself because he was still chewing intensely. Instead he just nodded, trying to look remorseful, but it was hard to do so with a big ol' pumpkin eatin' grin plastered all over his face. Smacking his lips and licking his fingers once he finished, he finally spoke. "You're right, I sincerely apologize. It won't happen again, promise." He was grinning just as much as she was, though, because mmmmm, pumpkin. Layla just might have become his favourite student.
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