fandomhigh | Underwater Basketweaving as a Metaphor for Organising Your Life -- Class 3, Period 2 [Tuesday]

There was a wide variety of materials available for the students to peruse when they got to the pool. Swimwear was, again, expected -- the students had been ~~handwavily~~ informed of that -- even though, today, they weren't going to be getting into the water.

At least, not completely.

Rather than have them enter the ocean, there were low tubs filled with water and various reeds, rushes, and stems in neat piles by each tub. Neat wooden basket frames of all shapes, sizes, and colours were also nearby.

“Good morning,” Juli said, smiling slightly, swinging a small basket in one hand. “Last week we covered basic swimming and, as such, this week we’ll be covering the basic part of weaving. This,” she held up the basket, “is one such attempt at weaving. To create this, you must first pick a frame appropriate for what you’re trying to do, and then pick the rest of your materials.”

She waited patiently for the class to do just that. “Upon that,” Juli said. “It is customary for the materials to be soaked in water until soft—much of that has already been done as it would take longer than a class period to do so—before you take the frame and submerse it in the water as well.”

Lulu took up the lecture. “Start at one side of the frame and work your way around over and under," she said, demonstrating with her own basket, "making sure to keep the layers as you go up pressed close against one another while keeping the actual weaving rather loose—most materials will shrink upon drying and draw your basket tighter." She pulled up an example basket she'd prepared earlier -- the frame had cracked in three places, and the reeds with which it was constructed were tearing. "Pulling too tight now will only wind up with a broken basket once it dries. Any questions?”

“Then you may begin.”

[~~Wait for the~~ OCD is up!]

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Listen, chat, play with the materials…

Harry was listening. Harry was also thinking that he really hadn't expected literal basket weaving from this course. Foolish boy.

"I wasn't expecting to have to actually weave baskets," Chris muttered.

Harry gave the pile of stuff in front of him that wanted to grow up into a basket someday a dark look.

"Yeah, me neither."

"I wonder if it would be considered personal gain if I used magic," Chris mused.

Sokka paid attention and took notes. He'd never really woven baskets before, because that was girl work. Back when he cared about that sort of thing.

Bender was staring at the piles of material dubiously. They looked very organic.

Sokka walked up to Bender with a big grin on his face. "Hi, I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm a robot, and you're awesome! Uh. No, I mean, I'm... You're... I'll start over. Hi, I'm Sokka! What's your name, awesome robot?"

That was the proper attitude of awesomeness - even if Sokka seemed a bit incoherent.

"I'm Bender, a mark-22," Bender said proudly. "And you're not a robot." Just in case he needed to point that out.

"No, but you are," Sokka replied, recovering a bit. "I was just rendered speechless by your awesomeness, is all. I'm pretty awesome, myself."

"I am," Bender agreed. Both to the robot-ness and the awesome.

He looked at Sokka, "So, why are you awesome?"

Sokka grinned and preened a little. "Oh, I just am. Awesome, that is. Yep, I'm just full of all kinds of awesomeness."

"I don't know," Bender said doubtfully. "I only thought there were two kinds. Awesome and awesome-lite, and no-one likes the low calorie version."

"Well, then your world must be seriously awesome-deprived," Sokka replied with a raised eyebrow. "Thank the spirits you've made it to Fandom!"

Bender shrugged. "It is now." Lacking himself as it now was.

"Any particular spirits? Whisky, absinthe or just good old-fashioned four star?" asked Bender, drawling the last.

Sokka blinked at him. "No, not LIQUOR. Why would I swear by that? Spirits. Like, you know, supernatural beings that live in the Spirit World and exert their influence over everything? Or don't you have those where you come from? They're pretty cool."

Bender would swear by all kinds of spirits. Or just swear.

"Nah, we don't have those," Bender shook his head. "So they're like gods right? With the smiting and the rains of fish."

"Not so much with the smiting," Sokka told him. "Although they are pretty fond of abducting people. But yeah, same concept, I think." He shrugged. "My ex-girlfriend became the Moon Spirit when she died."

"Eh, potato, potahto," equivocated Bender. It was close enough.

"What, there wasn't one before she copped it?" asked Bender. "Or did the last guy to do the job get fired?

"No, an evil general killed the moon so that my tribe couldn't use their magic water powers," Sokka answered. "It's a thing."

Huh, Sokka didn't look particularly crazy. "He must have had a big rocket," said Bender, thinking it through, utterly sure of himseld that, "Humans don't have magical powers."

Sokka facepalmed. "I said it was a thing. You want the long version, I can do that. Because you're, like, wrong all over the place."

"Or..." Bender challenged, picking up a reed and flicking it at one of the tubs. "You could just show me. It's not like there isn't any water here."

Sokka facepalmed. "Not everyone in my tribe, just some of them. I can't waterbend, but my sister can." He sighed. "Look, some of the people in my world have the ability to extend their chi outside their bodies and use it to manipulate one of the four elements. Me, I can't -- I'm awesome in other ways."

Summer was paying attention and taking notes. She could do this. It might end up a total disaster, but she could do this.

Underwater Basketweaving as a Metaphor for Organising Your Life -- Class 3, Period 2 [Tuesday]

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