Sexual Education [08/24] - Thursday Afternoon

[lesssexthanmiho.livejournal.com]

When the students were all in the Danger Shop which they had totally handwavily been told was the location for the day, okay?, Becky smiled.

"Hi. Last workshop, finally. What we're doing here today is putting everything you've learned to good use."

She pressed a button on the remote, and the Danger Shop transformed into a poorly-lit, crowded bar. Onstage, a pretty blonde girl no older than eighteen was dancing and swinging a lasso.

And yes - it was all in black and white, as were the students themselves, save for a few splashes of color here and there.

"Your assignment, boys and girls, is to pick someone up. Find a seat at the bar or a table, and within minutes, someone'll come along. You're to make small talk with them, and then get the person in question to want to have sex with you. Make sure to specify what you're into, and that you use protection. People in Kadie's usually like to know these things. You have until the end of class today to accomplish this goal. People who make it into compromising positions get cookies."

She held up three fingers. "Juuuust a handful of rules before I turn you loose. One - if you get far enough to where the fake person wants to have sex with you, your portion of the Shop will dim immediately, and your person will vanish, like magic or something. No getting me in trouble. Two - order what you want from Shellie, but if you act drunk, you're getting detention. And three - things in Kadie's can get kinda rough. Be nice to the other patrons, and they'll be nice to you. And if they aren't, I'll take care of it. Oh, and if you have a significant other to worry about, don't sweat it, guys."

She glanced at Bridge, frowning. "They're virtual people, and you don't even have to touch most of 'em to let 'em know what you want. It's all about the talking, baby."

She smiled. "Make me proud, kids."

[Please see OOC thread for notes. Also, second link may not be completely work safe.]

Monologuing, etc. Workshop #7, Thursday morning

[suzotchka.livejournal.com]

Ivanova stood before her small, motley crew with parade-ground precision, her back straight and her hands clasped behind her back. It might have been far more impressive – or perhaps was more impressive – given that she had returned to the short shorts and tank top look. She was enjoying her freedom while she had it.

"This is our last workshop," she announced. "And I have to say that I've greatly enjoyed my time with you. Your natural talent is impressive and I can only hope that I helped you focus your skills a little better. I know that I was taking notes for myself and if I ever need a vacation, I know who I'm calling in as my back-up." She smiled. "I don't know what more to tell you. Know only that your words will soon be ringing in the ears of uppity captains from Earth to Centauri Prime. I hope you keep in touch."

She relaxed her stance slightly and grinned. "So. For our last class, I'm going to kill you. Dying soliloquys. Iambic pentameter encouraged but not required. You can die dramatically while you're at it, if you like." She waved a box of tissues around for a moment. "In case of sniffles. Go to, go to. It is not so wide as a church door . . ."

[[Srsly, guys, I love you. This class really brightened up a hellish time for me and I just wish I had been around more to play with all of you. Ivanova's sticking around for another week-ish so you can say your last goodbyes, and I hope you'll call. Or write. Or ping me on AIM and we'll twalk. *sniffle* Group hug!]]

Library, Thursday, 8/24

[chasingangela]

For old time's sake, Angela has found one of the signs from last year that tells students to turn in their books before the semester ends or get malleted and hung it on the door. She hasn't thought of what to do if someone really wants to be malleted; hunt down Zero, she supposes.

It also occurs to her that the new librarian, whoever it is, will probably want to use their office as more than a holding cell for junk mail and dust bunnies, so she's slowly, slowly cleaning up in there when she can't find anything better to do, like staring into space or trying to plan out her weekend. It's a little amazing how much fur there still is back there.

[OOC: Open for the last time this summer, sniff.]

(no subject)

[http://users.livejournal.com/swedish_chef_/]

Guud effternuun stoodents! Yuoo knoo sume-a peuple-a sey thet breekffest is zee must impurtunt meel ooff zee dey. Vell, zeey're-a vrung. It's loonch.

Tudey's Menoo:

-Cheeckee Ceeser Seled

-Reveeuli

-Peas und Cerruts

-Ceke-a

Constant Vigilance #7: Friday the 25th, Morning. A Classroom.

[nine-and-ears.livejournal.com]

The Doctor rubbed his hands together happily from the chair of his desk. The classroom was a circle of chairs, as always, and there was something special next to the projector today.

A very large chocolate frosted chocolate cake with chocolate chips, fresh from Jeff, God of Biscuits. There was a stack of paper plates next to the cake, along with napkins and plastic forks.

"Thank you all for making this first class of mine absolutely fantastic," he said. "Help yourself to some cake, and once we all get situated, we'll have something special for the day."

Once everyone has helped themselves to the cake and gotten seated, the Doctor stood and switched on the projecter. The imaged projected was of a fellow in a tan uniform with a beret and a stylish moustache.

"That is my dear friend Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart. Or, at least, how he looked approxamitely thirty years ago. He's the head of an organization you may or may not have heard of. The United Nations Intelligence Taskforce, or UNIT for short. I have no idea what their public relations team pretends that UNIT actually does, but I'll state it in plain English. Whenever the world encounters something extraordinary, UNIT is there. Silurians discovered underneath a nuclear power station, Yeti in the London underground, Morgaine attempting to hijack a nuclear missile with the help of a demonic being called the Destroyer, they're always there. Just this past week, Terileptils were attempting to steal artifacts from the Smithsonian, and UNIT was there again, as well as my dear friend, and eventually myself as well. Now, I could go on about UNIT for a good long while, as I was once their scientific advisor while I was exiled to Earth. But I won't bore you with a lot of old stories at this time. Instead, I have something very special indeed. Even more special than the cake."

The Doctor fiddled with a knob on the projecter, and the image of the Brigadier faded away. "Today's activity is merely wrapping up what we've already covered. I want everyone to say one thing they've learned, one thing they'd like to learn more about, and one fact about another member of the class that they discovered thanks to this class. Sounds easy, right? Well, after that, I'd like everyone to come up with an answer to the following question: What is my purpose?"

He didn't even skip a beat. "Simple question, really. What is it that drives you? You're all very smart young adults. I'm sure you know exactly what your ambitions stem from. If not, make something plausible up, please. And as always, feel free to ask me any questions you like, especially given my absence last week. Everything clear? Fantastic."

[ooc: Wait for the OCD, please. ETA: Ready to go!]

Wilderness Survival Redux - Week 7 | Thursday Morning, A Clearing in the Woods

[psycho-barbie.livejournal.com]

"Today," Callisto addressed the class. "As a new and novel experience, I'm actually giving you clothing to wear."

She pointed to a pile of masks, gloves, elbow and knee pads, and body armour "There should be something in your sizes there. Get changed."

After everyone had gotten changed, she pulled out a slingshot and a pouch full of paintballs, and continued. "Today's class is simple. You run, I hunt, you make it to the end of the class without being caught or me shooting you, I don't make you go back to the dorms naked. You have until I reach two hundred to get out of here."

With that Callisto closed her eyes and started counting.

[ooc: OCD threads coming are up!]
[Workshop Info]