fandomhigh | Escape Artistry: Week 1, Period 3 (Thurs. 07/10)

When students assembled in the Danger Shop, they'd find a long table with screw drivers, hammers, awls, and crowbars near a long wall lined with a variety of doors. Some were obviously thin, wooden, interior doors with privacy doorknobs and some were much thicker, metal, exterior doors with deadbolts and sturdier doorknobs. All were locked and once students came into the Danger Shop they'd discover the entrance had disappeared.

Standing in front of the doors with his arms crossed was a huge man with wild dreadlocks, facial hair, and intricate tattoos on his forearm and neck. He wore a leather tank-style vest, worn leather pants, heavy boots, and a wicked smile.

"This is Escape Artistry," Ronon grunted the words at those assembled on-time. "Stupid name for a class, but I didn't pick it. They said day one is about keeping it easy and getting to know you. Meet the doors." Ronon gestured his thumb toward the wall of doors. "You break one down, we'll do introductions on the other side."

Ronon approached a sturdy, steel, dead-bolted door and delivered a well-placed kick to the point where the lock was mounted, tearing the deadbolt out of the metal door frame and causing the door to cave in on itself and smash loudly to the floor. Ronon snorted his disappointment with the door's structure before glancing back at the students. "If you need 'em, there's tools 'n stuff on the table. I don't care how you do it, just get through. I'll be waiting on the other side."

After he stepped through the rubble into the room on the other side, the door he'd destroyed repaired itself through the magic of the Danger Shop. Students would have to work either together or alone to beak down a door and escape the sealed room.

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"You glare in one direction, I'll glare in the other, and nobody will dare come close," Warren agreed, smirking slightly. "If that fails, we kick someone. In the shin. That usually works."

He didn't usually kick people. Usually, he punched them. But kicking seemed to sound, at the moment, like it would get the point across more effectively.

She smiled at him. "Kicking sounds good. I don't believe I've ever tried that. I do have a ... rather unique way of getting people to leave me alone if I'm aggravated enough."

"Is that so?" Warren's curiosity was going to eat a hole though his brain if he didn't ask. So, of course, he asked. "Mind letting me in on the secret?"

She grinned slyly. "I have a certain... affinity for spiders and other bugs. And snakes. And rats. They come when I call."

Warren had to smirk at that.

"Useful," he conceded. "I just light things on fire."

"Really?" she said curiously. "You carry around matches or a lighter of some sort? I had not considered that."

Warren shook his head and shrugged a shoulder.

"No need for matches. It's a little more complicated than that." He held up one finger and raised an eyebrow as his fingertip lit, like the flame on a candle. "Or a little more simple, I guess."

[Woo, I totally fail at picking the proper icon, back there. Ah well!]

A smile slowly slid across her face. "Oh, that is very useful," she said cheerfully.

"More or less," Warren agreed, letting the flame on his fingertip extinguish. "Almost as much as spiders." He smirked. "Gets the point across, at least."

"I'm sure it does," she said cheerfully. "Just be careful never to hurt my animal and insect friends."

"I'll make a point not to," Warren promised with a nod. "Technically, I'm not even supposed to do anything with it until I'm older."

A grunt and an eyeroll probably showed just what he thought of that.

"Why?" she asked curiously. "It seems ridiculous to have such a talent and not be allowed to use it."

Warren gave a shake of his head.

"One of the rules from my last school," he replied. And then quirked an eyebrow. "Which... I am no... longer... enrolled at."

... Huh.

"Supposedly, it was to keep me from burning down all of Maxville."

She grinned at him. "Well, then."

"And... were you likely to burn down all of Maxville?"

"No," Warren replied, almost sharply. He went silent for a moment, frowned, and then shook his head, relaxing again. "No. I wasn't."

"Good," she said quietly. "Despising half the people one runs across is one thing. Burning a city down is another. I did not think the latter was something you would be likely to do and I am pleased to know I am right."

"So am I," Warren replied, his gaze turning back toward the lecture. "I have better things to do with my life than murder and abuse my talents to make people miserable."

And he had his reasons for that.

She nodded. "I completely agree. But I have seen many who would. I would have been... very sad if you had unexpectedly turned out to be like them."

"Too many people are like that." Warren stared at the doors ahead of them. "Too, too many."

She reached out and carefully put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you well?" she asked with quiet concern.

Warren's eyes glanced at the hand on his shoulder, which he gave a little shrug of before shaking his head dismissively.

"I'm fine," he replied. "Here's not the place to talk about it."

She nodded, removing her hand and dropping it to her lap. "If you ever wish to, to talk... I would be glad to listen."

"I appreciate that," Warren said, smiling faintly before turning his attention back to the lecture.

Oh yeah. Class. They had that.

... He was going to have to look her up sometime soon, maybe.

Escape Artistry: Week 1, Period 3 (Thurs. 07/10)

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