How Green Becomes Wood

Dark made a mug with a handle he could comfortably fit his hand in, and he had carved a death's head moth into it in relief. He wasn't sure how great the mug would end up being in the end, but he liked how it looked. After gradually regaining her confidence with the pottery, Daizi finished with a flower vase. She had attempted to carve in stars and the zodiac constellations, but because she was so unfamiliar with anything like this, it definitely looked the least clear and most confusing out of any of their three. It felt right to her hands, though, for the most part, which was more than enough.
 
As they picked up the last of the pieces, the instructor reminded them, "When you come to reclaim your piece, you are welcome to make use of the studio to paint your piece. That is included in the price of your lesson. You are also welcome to take it home and do it there, there is nothing saying you must paint your piece, but after the clay has been fired, you have the option to paint and glaze or just glaze. The glaze makes it waterproof and extends the lofe of the piece."

"I totally want to paint and glaze!" Alec whispered to Dark. "What about you?
 
"I guess we could ask, but my guess is, since glaze makes it waterproof, it also keeps the clay from absorbing other things," Alec said.

There were three sinks, so everyone lined up to make use of the sinks and towels available to them. Thier aprons they hung up next to the sink. Alec now had the chance to realize how many people were sneaking looks at Dark and Daizi. Daizi received mostly the kind of looks from people trying to understand what they were seeing, not intending to be rude. Dark received a different type of look altogether.
 
Dark, who had spent the afternoon in his tight t-shirt that hugged his tattooed biceps and didn't do much else to obscure the way his muscles flexed and moved while he worked the clay, was not... particularly surprised by the different looks he received, nor was he (in his tight t-shirt that showed off how heavily tattooed his arms were, with his blind, witchy wife who had accidentally stabbed the instructor) particularly surprised by the confused, curious stares they both received.

But he was so accustomed to being stared at, he didn't look back at any of them, and easily ignored them, and just bent a very long way to the sink to wash all of the clay off of his hands. Daizi did not even know, and instead expressed, "I think when we do come back to either glaze or paint them, you both will really need to help me with that part. I don't know how I'd even go about picking the colours."
 
Alec shook himself and replied, "I think anything you do will look amazing, but I will happily find you any colors you like! In a couple of days. I didn't realize this would be a two-part date."
 
"I didn't either, but it'll be lovely," Daizi said cheerfully, bending to wash her hands, "We'll just have to tell Xander to plan a second thing, too."

Dark dried his hands, "Where would you like to go eat?"
 
Alec waited to take his turn and said, "There's that one place with the gyros. I can't remember what it's called. We got take out from there once, and it was really good. Do you remember?"
 
"Oh, I love that place," Daizi said happily, removing her sweatshirt now that it was no longer necessary. Her dress underneath was short sleeved and printed with mushrooms, beetles, graveyards, ouija boards, and bones, among other iconoclast, cinched at the waist with a thick belt. "We know exactly where that is."

"Xander brought us to a very American place," Dark mused, "He kept commenting about 'good grease'."
 
"I do like some good grease, but I like gyros better. And other lighter food," Alec agreed with a grin. "Mama, your dress is very pretty. It looks a lot like one that, um, Gwen would wear. Minus the graveyards." He turned to go. "Did you enjoy your good grease?"
 
"Gwen actually bought it for me," Daizi commented, "I really like it, it's comfortable too. And it has pockets!"

"It tasted nice enough," Dark said, walking too the door, "but I do not prefer my food so... oleaginous."
 
"Some of our food can be greasy, but it really comes down to what we're having." Daizi commented, taking her husband's hand as they walked to the door, "It's not uncommon for our food to be fried, but the method of frying it is a bit different from what how it's done in the US."

"Most of our foods are not extremely greasy, though," Dark pointed out, getting into the driver's side.

"He's got a sensitive tummy."
 
"I've noticed," Alec said, climbing into the back. "The fried food bit, not the sensitive tummy bit. That does answer a few questions. Anyway! What do you want to get to eat when we get there?"
 
"He's a tummy ache survivor," Daizi said sweetly, squeezing Dark's shoulder as they sat down, "I'm not sure, really. I'll see how I'm feeling when we get there---What are you thinking about getting?"
 
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