So I just spent the past two hours playing the piano in the lobby.
It's been forever since I've even touched a piano. Hmm.
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@anakinmcfly
So I just spent the past two hours playing the piano in the lobby.
It's been forever since I've even touched a piano. Hmm.
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Quantum dot samples seen in ultraviolet light.
These samples consist of solutions of cadmium selenide (CdSe), which is responding to the ultraviolet light by emitting visible light. The solutions can be engineered to specific wavelengths, and are used for applications such as tracers, the quantum dot samples seen above. The colors correspond to the following wavelengths in nanometers: red (610nm), orange (590nm), green (560nm), blue (480nm), and violet (380nm).
Oh, okay then. Best of luck to you!
That’s wonderful, sir. It’s always good to see confidence in that field. Hard work really does pay off too.
Hard work is basically the only reason I'm not lying in an alleyway right now.
You got something to work for, then? If that's not too personal a question, I mean.
The option to not work is always an option, your dudeliness.
Guess it's a matter of perspective, then.
My hypothesis is that you've been not working a great majority of the week, in this case.
If not, I’m sure you can get some from the shop where you hire gear.
It’s always like that, isn’t it. Do you think you’ll get a good mark?
Ah, no--I'm too cheap to rent gloves just for the sake of getting warm. I'll survive.
I do think I'll get a good mark. I'm luckily very sure about academics.
It’s always a bad idea but sometimes it’s necessary, which is horrible.
Put a pair of gloves on and grab a hot chocolate — I’m sure that will help. May I ask why you’re typing a paper while on a vacation?
I'll see if I have gloves, first.
I've a thesis due the week I get back, so time isn't really a luxury.
Stop working, then.
Wise words as usual.
But not really applicable right now, sorry to say.
Typing a paper at unholy o'clock was a bad idea.
I don't think my fingers've ever felt this frozen before.
hot chocolate addictions | phillip & anakin
“I feel like any form of hot chocolate that is at a higher quality rate than the average store-bought brand is water-hating hot chocolate, but that one in particular,” Phillip said with a small smile before he looked at the man, watching the way that he made his way over to the the mini-fridge that was a nice little staple to any cabin room. He rather enjoyed the ability to know that he could go buy a small carton of milk from the little store down in the lobby if he wanted to make some quality hot chocolate, but it brought an even bigger smile to his face to find that his companion already came prepared to prepare the anti-water hot chocolate that he had brought along. “I know that I appreciate your like of dairy, and I’m sure the hot chocolate does as well. It will probably taste a lot better if it’s prepared the way that it’s supposed to be prepared.” He didn’t comment at the fact regarding Anakin’s sweet tooth, mainly because he was certain it existed due to the fact that he was here with hot chocolate in the first place, unless that was secretly just an excuse to spend time with Phillip which the man wouldn’t have been opposed to if that was the case. After all, he could always use a friend or two who wanted to experience his company, and he usually turned people off based on the fact that he preferred to have deep, intellectual conversations rather than just spend time going out and doing things, even if that was alright too. How he still had the two friends he did, Phillip would never understand, especially since they were both too busy to spend time listening to his intellectual conversations.
“I’m sure once your future future husband’s existential crisis is over he will definitely treat you as well as my friends do,” Phillip said with a soft chuckle before he nodded. “Yeah, it was part of a birthday gift last month from my two best friends. I attended university in Paris and met them while I was there, and while I really have no idea why they still bother with me because their lives are so busy, but it’s nice to know that I can end up looking forward to a present or two over the course of the year, even if they’re ridiculously outlandish most of the time.” He paused, a hint of a smile on his face as he thought of the trip that Charisse had put together for a last minute plan to spend Christmas with them in France and he shook his head a little bit. “Am I going to regret coming to your room now?” he asked as he looked at Anakin before he settled down on the edge of the bed, pressing his hand into the mattress so he could lean back against it and find a comfortable position. “I’m not going to be stuck here until two in the morning draining your phone battery, am I?”
"How long you're going to be here, I make no promises about," Anakin says, all wise and ethereal Jedi master, a glint in his eye as he attempts to look the slightest bit wise. "To play Space Impact is to dedicate yourself to an art, Mr. Leigh." He leans against the shelf that houses the mini-fridge, his arms crossing over his chest and his Metallica t-shirt. "And art, no matter how talented you are, takes practice." He laughs. "Or maybe just a lot of soul-searching."
He pauses, and then clears his throat. "Which you seem to have done pretty well. What's it like in France?" He's not sure if he's allowed to ask questions, but Phillip doesn't sound too defensive of it; not too paranoid, not like how Anakin gets when he's asked too much about his college years. He twists the Claddagh ring on his finger, almost like a nervous afterthought, at the idea of his developmental years, but the feeling subsides and he smiles instead. "I've never been out of America--well, if you don't count dreamspace." He lifts a hand, rubbing the back of his neck, and his other hand pulls his blanket a little tighter around him. Anakin likes the idea of an afterlife, of the ability to travel the world even despite expiration. He likes to think that he's going to be ethereal and free; that he won't be held down by the laws of physics, and that he would be able to travel from galaxy to galaxy, Skywalker-style. But now that he's found friends he's a little afraid he'll be doing that alone for eternity. His fingers clutch a little tighter. "And it's really sweet that they still care for you. I've never had friends like that."
It's a bit of a personal topic on Anakin's end, so he doesn't say much more after. Luckily for him, the light on the electronic kettle switches, and it's given him an opening to forget he'd ever breached the topic. He reaches for a mug and puts some of the hot chocolate into it, before pouring in some milk. He certainly doesn't understand the instructions on the tin, but he may as well approximate. "Do you want some, by the way? I can't promise it'll be the perfect cup, but if your friends were right, it'll probably be above decent." He brings the mug to his lips, taking a sip and blinking profusely at the taste. Wow. "It, uh... definitely tastes sweeter than the hot chocolate I'm used to."
Well partially my fault.
Haha substantially. Because…substance. Anyway, no I didn’t have fun. Doubt I’ll have any fun all week.
I thought drugs were supposed to be fun if they weren't medicinal, but I guess everyone's got different standards.
Having fun is all in the mindset.
If they’re over eighteen and not a fucking senior, they’re not your problem, fucktard. Don’t make your puny brain work any harder than it’s gotta seeing as you’re pretty fucking useless.
I'm sorry. Any tips for how to turn off brains without having to result to sex, drugs, and/or using the word 'fuck' every two words?
That dude’s more of an alcoholic and druggie than any student here. Open your fucking eyes, dude. He’s probably wasted half the time and fucking someone.
Responsible for the students, dipshit. How fucking hard is that to understand.
Pretty fucking hard, actually.
hot chocolate addictions | phillip & anakin
Phillip watched with slight amusement as Anakin closed the laptop and it made him wonder if that was something that he did often. He didn’t often consider closing a laptop with his foot, but if you had your hands full, then Phillip imagined that it was a convenient way to make sure that your laptop got shut and tucked away. “I’m glad you’re not sick yet,” he said as he stepped into the room, chuckling quietly. “And I’m hoping that you don’t get sick at all, but if you do, please don’t get me sick too.” His tone was teasing as he pushed the door shut behind him, watching in an impressed manner as to the way that Anakin managed to get the soup cup that he had been eating from into the garbage can without missing. “You must be pretty impressive with the Force, based on how you managed to get that cup in the trash bin without having to get up.” He grinned a little as he nudged the door shut behind him, resisting the urge to chuckle a little bit about Anakin’s statement about how much of himself he wanted to bring into the room. “I appreciate your complete lack of judgement, but I think we’ll both be more comfortable if I don’t leave my body in the hallway. Plus, that’d make it a little awkward for anyone who’s wandering their way down the halls.”
There were few things that could get Phillip to stop overthinking around this time of year and luckily for him, spending time with a colleague that he quite enjoyed the company of was one of them. “Ah, here,” he said after a moment as he remembered the tin of hot chocolate in his hoodie pocket. He pulled the metal container out of his pocket and offered it over to Anakin with a small smile. “I haven’t tried it yet, but it’s apparently supposed to be some divine hot chocolate made from the finest Belgian chocolate or something like that. I’m not really sure, to be honest. Skimmed that part of the letter.” He offered the man a smile, wondering if he would have to explain about his eccentric pair of friends who liked to buy him lavish gifts now, but Phillip realised that he really wouldn’t mind doing that. He hadn’t really had a chance to tell anyone about Charisse and Étienne, excluding Lux, but that had been because he wanted to encourage the girl to succeed with her life goals, and Phillip realised that he really wanted to make friends at this school, not just be associates with the fellow teachers, and he wanted to be able to talk to them about his time in France and the friends that he had made there. “It’s probably a crime to make this with water or something like that, but it’s possible, or at least that’s what the directions say. Either way, it’s something sweet which will clearly do absolutely nothing to help keep a cold from coming on.” Phillip paused. “I really do hope that you don’t get sick again, but if you do, I’d love to hear what crazy wedding schemes come of it.”
Anakin likes Phillip.
He enjoys the fact that he isn't told to be quiet when his thoughts go on tangents, and that he doesn't have to sugarcoat the things he says for fear of offense. All his life he's told himself constantly to shut up, McFly or stop it, nobody's going to listen or stick to two decimal places because five would make everyone stop paying attention you rambling idiot. The freedom that comes with being to express himself is nice. For all his fluttery, corny feelings, he still apologizes profusely around Liam for just about everything he says--Phillip, on the other hand, is comfortable. And that's probably because he doesn't have to worry Phillip's going to leave him for someone better all the time.
"Water-hating Belgian chocolate?" Anakin questions, the ghost of a laugh somewhere in there, but he doesn't go any further than that, because all in all it's still hot chocolate: incredibly fancyhot chocolate (which Anakin has no doubt he can't afford with all his funds going into his research), but chocolate nevertheless. He takes the tin in his hands and looks it over with a sort of awed silence, reading over the text despite his inability to understand the language. Italian and English can only get you so far, and he doubts a knowledge of Klingon would've made a difference, too. He treats the tin like it's made of glass, like he's afraid he'll stain it, somehow. It's not his, after all. "Did you receive this as a gift, then?" He finds his head tilting, a tiny curve of his lips. "Because you have some really generous pen pals. They're more generous than my husband-to-be, too, considering he's kind of going through an existential crisis right about now... but you don't really expect much from Cameron Frye."
Anakin smiles, a crooked thing that reaches his eyes, and he walks over to the fridge in the room to take out a carton of milk. "It's a good thing I really like my dairy," he mentions, off-handedly, as he pours it into an electronic kettle for heating, "but one thing I learned in life is that milk is good for poor people. Fills you up--not as good as food, but it's affordable." He ties the ends of the blanket around his neck like a cape, for fear of it slipping off his shoulders. He's already beginning to feel a little warmer.
"Thanks, by the way," he continues, turning towards Phillip and shoving his hands into his pockets. "For the hot chocolate. I neither confirm nor deny the suspicion that I have a sweet tooth." And, like an afterthought, he blinks suddenly and clears his throat, making a sort of rickety hand gesture.
"And, uh, make yourself comfortable, too! Really. I'm going to force Space Impact into your hands, so a good seated position is recommended."
No, really couldn’t fucking care less, dude. Just here to tell you to chill the fuck out.
You’re not fucking responsible for what other homeboys and bitches do in their free time when they’re not your student, dude. Whatcha gonna do, report them to the principal? He’s probably fucking stoned with them.
That's a cynical way of looking at things--although for what it's worth, I do hope Mr. Delaney isn't smoking cannabis.
If I'm not meant to be responsible, though, then what's the point of forcing the staff to go on this trip in the first place?