fandomhigh | Communication, period 5 ( Week 5)

When the Communication students arrived for class, they'd find a new teacher sitting up the front of the class. Asleep, with his feet on the desk. When everyone had arrived and taken their seats, he opened one eye. "Let's do this thing!" He jumped to his feet and paced around the classroom, waving his hands as he spoke.

"All right, lets look alive, people. I'm Dewey Finn, we're talking communication, and that means we're talking music.

What's that you say? What does music have to do with communication? Why only everything! Music is life, guys and gals. Now what you're going to do today is have a little conversation, a little talking, indulge in a little communication, but you're going to do it all in lyrics. Ask directions, complain about something, declare your true love, or just jive about whatever you want.

Nothing but lyrics, though, or there's going to have to be some detention handed out. And you don't want to make me into the man. Not cool, kids." He flopped back down in his chair. "I'm gonna be chilling here," he leaned back and put his feet back on the desk, "while you all entertain me with your mastery of the lyrics. Go on." He waved his hands at them. "Give it a try."

[ooc: ~~Plz to be waiting for OCD, yo~~ Rock on! Just in case it's not clear, quote lyrics at each other and shape it into a conversation of some kind. Oh yeah. Dewey? Isn't going to give anyone detention.]

[Dewey is just a substitute -- we're looking for a permanent teacher for this class. Interested? Check out this post for details!]

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Pair up, triple up, get together and talk to each other in lyrics.

Chris was really still thinking about his conversation with Andrew last night, but he was willing to give the exercise a shot. He wondered if spells counted. They were kind of lyrical.

Then again, that might not be the best idea ever.

Cassandra was frowning. She didn't actually know any song lyrics. "Sheltered" childhood and all.

Jack gave Cassandra a headnod.

She returned the nod, slightly hesitant, their less-than-successful conversation the other day running through her mind.

He quirked his eyebrow, wondering if she was okay. Or if she was mad at him. For something.

She shrugged back. She wasn't really sure what she felt at the moment. She wasn't even sure if anything had changed between them.

He tilted his head. She knew how to find him if she wanted to.

A slow nod. So she did.

He guy-nodded at the teacher. Any lyrics?

Re: Lyricise, people!

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Naminé noticed Cassandra's hesitation, and tilted her head at the other girl curiously. "Are you feelin' all right?" she asked. "I'm not feelin' too good myself."

"I don't know any songs," Cassandra said quietly.

"Oh," Naminé whispered, chewing her lip. "Any? 'Row, row, row your boat'? 'Happy birthday to you'?"

"Um... no? There... wasn't a lot of singing growing up." Any, really.

Naminé bit her lip. "You should start speaking in scoo-be-doo-bop's," she decided. "Tell our instructor you're doing improv jazz."

"I don't even know what that is," Cassandra admitted ruefully.

Jack was humming old Beatles tunes.

Andrew was a bit sleepy today. That light snore was not coming from him. Honest.

Naminé looked around, amused by the assignment already.

"Hello, is it me you're looking for?" John grinned.

Naminé beamed. "I was alone, thinking I was just fine," she admitted. "I wasn't looking for anyone to be mine."

"Oh the things that you say. Is it life or just a play?" he asked.

"Walk away to save your face," she countered. "You never were an actor."

"Baby can't you see?" he replied. "I wanna be famous, a star of the screen!"

"I'll stand by you," Naminé promised. "And I'll never desert you."

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