stykera: (soda pressed)
[personal profile] stykera
It was a different day of the week than usual this session, but Stark was in his office. He wasn't sure why. The class was over now. He ought to have done this on an earlier day this week if he had wanted it to be in any way useful. But he was here nonetheless.

He'd packed up the cupcake books or returned them to the library. All that remained on the desk were the plants and the usual plate of cupcakes. This time they were cupcakes left from yesterday's class, which he was reviewing. There may even have been some note-taking happening about them in the hopes he might be able to recreate some in the future, or have someone else do so. Maybe he could make some suggestions to Gunther at the hotel. Or to someone at J,GoB. And, of course, there were plenty of cupcakes to share with anyone that might stop by.

[Sure, it's a bit silly to have office hours after the class is over but I forgot Wednesday and I didn't want to miss my last chance. I am clinging desperately to my glowyface alien, as per usual. Door and post are, of course, open.]
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Stark

March 2012

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