Sex Thru The Ages, 9/01

[shiroi_tiger]

Class held two hot teachers when everyone arrived. One was perfectly at ease with the subject matter, the other...

Not so much.

"Welcome to Sex Through The Ages, class," Jim said, far too happy with it all. Maybe to make up for his co-teacher's attitude.

( Algren's attitude was just fine. )

[OCD is up! Have at thee!]

World Wars and the Media, Tuesday

[chosehumanity]

"Good morning, everyone." Mitchell's cheer seemed a little heavy on the sheepish side that morning. "I'm Mitchell. Not Professor Mitchell - I hear you have to go to school to earn that. Welcome to World Wars and the Media. Which is a fairly impressive title and sounds properly academic, which I'm not." Unless you counted that stint in Oxford in the thirties, and Mitchell had made very sure at the time no one was around to remember that. At least it was a little more optimistic than his original idea of starting the class, which had involved saying I have absolutely no idea how to teach a class like this and possibly George having a massive fit, if things went the way they tended to.

"But let's not linger on that. The 20th century is famous for its global wars and equal consequences," he segued. "It's equally famous for being a time at which the media exploded all over the place, giving us film, radio, television, the internet..." He looked momentarily wistful. "Obviously, these two cross-pollinated. Through propaganda, but also through the reverse. Rebellions were started and extinguished with the help of rising technology. Unlike previous centuries, there was suddenly this mass of... possibility," he made an enthusiastic gesture with his hands, "Where in the middle of an armed conflict, one single image could travel around the world and change everything. The way the people saw it, the way the people thought about it... It's a powerful tool."

He paused, leaning forward against his desk. "I'm not going to bore you with more general babbling," he said, "But we'll be here to look at and discuss a lot of these things. Of course, to do so, we have to know what we're starting with. So starting with you," he pointed out a random student, "I want your name, I want when and where you're from, and I want to know what you think about war. In a very general sense. What images spring to mind what you think about it? What stories have formed the way you look at the First World War, or the Second, if you even know what those are? Or if you don't, what stories have formed the way you look at the wars of your own place and time?"

Beat.

"Also, have some tea."

[[ wait for the ocd up! ]]

Anyone Can Cook, 9/1/09, Period 4

[thetoughestcook]

"Bonjour, class," Colette said, once it seemed like everyone who was coming was in the Home Ec classroom with a syllabus and set of rules before them. She was dressed in her chef whites, and the classroom was kitted out like a well-equipped restaurant kitchen.

"Welcome to Anyone Can Cook. I am your instructor, Colette Tatou. You may call me Chef Colette, Chef Tatou, or Mademoiselle Tatou." It wasn't that she didn't know the English honorifics; it was that Ms. sounded like buzzing to her and she certainly wasn't a professor. "I hope you will enjoy our time together."

"In this class, I will instruct you all in basic and advanced cookery, using Auguste Gusteau's classic cookbook, Anyone Can Cook. If you tell me that is not true and you simply cannot cook, I will laugh and tell you the best chef I have ever known -- after Monsieur Gusteau -- is a rat. You all seem to be human shaped, so the advantage is yours, is it not?" Her raised eyebrow was very elegant.

"Today, we will start with an assignment I saw on a television program. I would like each of you to make what you would call a signature dish, then present and explain it to the class. Do not be ashamed if it is basic; if you can only make toast, make the best toast you can make. You have 40 minutes to cook, and then we'll spend 20 minutes on introductions. I am here if you have questions or you may refer to the cookbooks on this shelf for ideas. Begin."

There, she finally smiled. "I also need two assistants. It would be very nice if they already knew how to cook. If anyone is interested, talk to me after class, s'il vous plait."

Library [9.1]

[death-of-hope.livejournal.com]

It was her first library shift of the fall semester, and Anemone was now, officially, a senior.

Too weird. But in a good way.

Since it was the start of the school year, there wasn't much work to do, and Anemone happily settled in behind the desk, tinkering with the compac drive she'd brought back to school with her.

She turned it over in her hands to watch the play of light across the complex circuitry inside. And if it looked like it flared to life once or twice, well, it was just a trick of the sun. There wasn't any Trappar here.

Still, it was shiny, and Anemone was humming absently as she started dismantling it, picking it apart and putting it back together. She was never going to be an engineering genius like Woz or Jobs, but knowing how the drives worked in relation to her refboard, well, that was just being curious, and Anemone had never been able to resist shiny things.

Maybe some of these wires would make awesome jewelry...

The Fandom High Library was open, but beware the library aide with the screwdriver. She waves it about when she gets excited.

Library, Wednesday (September 2)

[ancientbschamp.livejournal.com]

From the way Gabrielle all but bounced into the library humming this morning, you'd think she'd actually gotten sleep last night. That, due to a combination of residual play glee, new job excitement, sugar, and chocolate-covered espresso beans (thanks, K-Mart), was not the case. Gabrielle wasn't a morning person, but that rule seemed to not apply when waking up hadn't been a factor.

The new package of chocolate-covered espresso beans was a factor, though, for all of the half hour before she'd finished them off.

After wandering around for a while and familiarizing herself with the library, Gabrielle returned to the desk and settled down with a volume she'd found in her trip through the stacks: What To Do When The Love Of Your Life Is Cursed to Spend Half the Year in the Underworld.

"Wow. This would have done Persephone so much good."

The foil bag the espresso beans had come in had been fastidiously folded up, and was now stuck between the back pages of the book; that was the annoying thing about books, Gabrielle was beginning to find -- if you lost your place, finding the right page again was a challenge. But at least now she had a shiny improvised bookmark!

Defense Against the Dark Arts for Muggles [Wednesday, Sept 2, 5th period]

[siriuslyscarred.livejournal.com]

When students entered the room on Wednesday, they'd find it looking exactly like a normal, ordinary classroom -- rows of desks facing the front, and two men standing at the front. Both were in their mid-thirties (though perhaps a bit weathered), and wearing shabby-looking long robes. However, if students looked up, they'd notice that the room's ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky outside. It was a touch of Hogwarts for their own comfort as well as students' amusement (though Remus had had to talk Sirius out of making the sky cloudy.)

( and lo, there was a class, and many words were used )

[co-written with lycanthromoony!]

Punching People for Fun and Profit, Period 1 [Class One | 9/2/2009]

[nofatjokes.livejournal.com]

Today's class met in the gym, for no particularly good reason. Mainly because Fred didn't want to try to sit at a desk in front of a class.

"So y'all are in 'Punching People for Fun and Profit'. If you think you'll cry like a baby and won't be able to handle getting punched in the face at some point during the course, go leave now. This ain't a class for sissies. I won't be breakin' you all in quite yet, today's the easy day. After this, things get harder. We'll learn some fightin' basics the first few weeks, and then we'll be goin' into the Danger Shop to explore some various career options for the violence inclined."

He laughed, a deep, belly shaking laugh.

"I'm Frederick J. Dukes, and I'll be your teacher for this class. I've worked Special Ops for the US Military, and some freelance mercenary work. I've done some pro boxing as well. Long story short, don't give me lip. You'll get detention. Or worse. Now I want you all to introduce yourselves. Name, Class, Fighting Experience, and the biggest thing you've beaten. Me? I took down a tank."

He pointed to a random member of the class. "You start."

After the introductions were done, Fred pointed the TVs set up with Wiis.

"For the rest of the easy day, you get to play Wii Boxing. Next week, we learn how to throw real punches."

[ooc: OCD first, please. ETA: OOOOPEN!]