((Sorry I was gone for a while. Work issues, I swear...))<br/><br/>Michael looked up at Noah, and sighed. "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna have to do it right. Tina, come back, it's a class project. New kid, come hither. You've got artistic skills, so would you mind handling the painting? If not, we can have someone else do it. Trystan, I know what you're carrying, I'm going to have to ask you to lend one to me, we need that to shape the stryofoam. Noah, if you'd be so kind, could you handle the clay? We'll need that to make the organelles of the cells. Now, let's get to work." Michael didn't usually talk that much. In fact, he didn't talk that much at all. But that was a group project for seventy five percent of their grade. Fuck anonymity, he wanted to pass.