Creative Writing [Tuesday, 5th Period]

[cuff-me-once.livejournal.com]

Rick had sent an email informing his class to meet at the main campfire, where he sat, typing on his laptop.

"Hey there," he said, grinning, once the class had arrived. "My name's Richard Castle, and I'll be taking you for Creative Writing, and before anyone asks, yes, I am the same Richard Castle who wrote the Derek Storm novels. Basically what we'll be spending the next few weeks doing, is going over some of the process, and with any luck you will be taking an idea and taking all the way though to a finished story."

"And ideas are where it all starts. They can be character-based, they can plot-based, but without an idea, a seed to grow from, you can't even start writing a story. However, as we all know, sometimes it can be hard to find ideas and inspiration, which is why I bought this." Rick held up a large glass jar filled with slips of paper. "The Big Jar-O-Prompts."

Rick shook the jar as he continued "So, what's going to happen is that you're all going to give me your names, where you're from, why you choose this class, and something interesting about yourself, and I will give you an idea from the Big Jar-O-Prompts, which you will build your story around. Now, how you incorporate it in your story is up to you, but I do want to be able to see some form of it in the finished product."


"Also, I'm going to need a couple of teaching assistants, so anyone who's interested come up and see me after class."

[OOC: OCD up!]

[Class Roster]

Survival | Week 1 | Period 1 | Wed. 7/8

[satedan-soldier.livejournal.com]

When the class assembled in the gymnasium, they would find Ronon looking much like his normal self - massive man with dreads and leather - ready to begin in low, gruff tones. "This is Survival for students without powers. There's no magic to escaping from whatever bad guys are after you. If you're lucky, there's no one after you now. If you're not, this is where you need to be. Either way, we can work on getting you to the point where when something attacks here in Fandom you can manage to survive it." Look, he had to hope.

"If you've taken classes here before, you know today's the intro day. So, you're all gonna go get yourselves in uniforms from the locker room," he pointed to the doors, "and then sit down and get to know each other or something."

Which was kind of weird for a Ronon class, but he was working on this whole conforming thing.

"Oh, and," his gaze wandered over the group, searching for familiar faces, "Wexler, you're the TA. Make sure no one has problems finding a uniform that fits."

a guide to getting past life's little quirks | wednesday | period 2 | july 8

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

Loki decided to hold class outside, around the main campfire for maximum, well, maximum campfire experience. He really didn't know what the fuck that meant other than he wanted to be outside and not cooped up in a classroom. If the students didn't like roughing it, oh fucking well. That was why he had the authority.

"All right," he started once everyone seemed to have filed in, "I see some familiar faces and some faces I don't recognize. So, if you don't know me, I'm Loki, I'm your teacher and if you didn't sign up for this class, don't tell me that because I'll have to make fun of you."

And he would too.

"Anyway, if you're expecting to do battle with swords or learn to fly or shit like that, you're gonna be sadly bored in this class because that's not what it's about. This class is about dealing with all the little shit that you encounter in everyday life that can put a major fucking cramp in your day. It's stuff that no one thinks about until it fucking ruins their plans because they had no idea how to fucking get past it. This class will teach you how to get past certain things, how to deal with certain things and how to be fucking awesome while doing it."

He just threw that last part in, of course. He was always awesome.

"Today, though, we'll start off slow. We'll do introductions so I know who the hell you are and what the hell you're doing here. Name, age, and last time you bought fucking condoms." He thought of leaving it there but, well, he didn't need to get in trouble. "If you don't want to tell anyone that, just tell us the last time something embarrassing happened to you that you didn't know how to deal with. Sound good? Right." He paused and looked around the assembled mass before picking two people at random. "And you two," he said, pointing to George and Elena, "are the TA's. Congratulations. Don't you just love random fucking selection? Anyway, intros. Go."

With that, he leaned back and waited to hear the class intros.

[Class syllabus and roster]

Basic and Thaumaturgic Forensics - Wednesday, Period Four

[brandyforapples.livejournal.com]

It was a new term and a new term meant new students. Or, in Abby Irene's case, new students and old students. She was rather pleased with the fact that she saw repeat visitors to her class, though one had her just a touch boggled really.

As they entered, she leaned back against her desk and spread her hands. She'd been wise enough to put the copies of the syllabus so they could skip the 'passing out' trouble.

"Welcome to Basic and Thaumaturgical Forensics. My name, for those who don't know me, is Detective Crown Investigator Abigail Irene Garrett. For this class, you may refer to me as Doctor Garrett, DCI Garrett, or simply Professor Garrett as you prefer but kindly keep your 'missus' to yourself.

"In this class, we'll be covering the most simplistic of forensics that you can do with magick or with your own two hands and eyes. I realize that some of you might come from worlds with a great deal more technology than I am used to, but there are some things which thaumaturgy does well, and nothing that can't be served with a bit of common sense and a sharp eye.

"First class, of course, is introductions. Not to mention openings for teaching assistants, for anyone interested."

[ocd up!][Roster and Syllabus]

Library [07/08]

[likethegun]

Sam was glad to be back in the library after everything that had happened lately. Being in the library felt more normal and calming than anything else, and while he was here with a job to focus on, he was almost able to pretend that nothing was wrong. Most of the time, at least, if he tried very hard.

He'd made it to the library right on time this morning, and was keeping an eye out for any new students who might decide to come by.

Basic Sword Skills [Thursday, Period Three]

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

Max had reviewed the class roster and was oddly relieved that he didn't have any repeat students. It saved him the time it would take to break a bunch of bad habits. Because while Slacking had been a relatively relaxed class, even though he took the subject seriously, Max had a very different approach to teaching the blade. The relatively small class size was also likely to give him more time to spend one-on-one with his students, and he was hoping that turned out to be more of an advantage than not.

As the students arrived at the Danger Shop where they had handwavily been told to meet the first thing they were likely to notice was the ridiculously extensive collection of blades. Max apparently had everything from Swiss stilettos to Japanese naganaki to Javanese kris. The second thing they might notice was that their instructor was wearing Roman-style legionary armor. A steel breastplate, a studded leather armored skirt, and steel greaves and bracers. He also had a short sword strapped to his waist. Max didn't wait for any stragglers, as soon as class was scheduled to begin he started.

"All right, listen up!" he barked. "You are here because you wanted to learn about swords, someone else wanted you to learn about swords, or the universe itself conspired to make you learn about swords. I don't care what your reasons are because regardless you're going to learn about swords." He looked around to see if anyone had any problems with that. And if they did he planned to ignore them. "All sorts of people draw distinctions between swords and other weapons in all sorts of places, but for the purposes of this course we will consider a sword to be any hand weapon which is a blade for more than half its length." He nodded at the rack to illustrate.

"We've only got seven weeks and there's a lot for you to learn, so we're going to get straight into it. Each of you will step up to the front and select a weapon, or two if you prefer. You will then explain to the class why you selected the one you did. There is no wrong reason to select a blade. If it looks pretty, that's fine. If it feels good in your hand, that's fine. If you're familiar with it already, that's fine. Once you've made your selection we'll do a quick practice match in which you'll, hopefully, learn some of the strengths and weaknesses of your selected weapon."

His eyes narrowed suddenly. "The safety systems here will not allow any injuries today, but don't even think about using that as an excuse to be sloppy. Treat every potential hit as a real one, and don't take a strike just because it won't leave you bleeding."

"You!" Max snapped as he pointed to a random student. "You're first!"