DADA for Muggles [Wednesday, September 30, 5th period]

[lycanthromoony.livejournal.com]

The students had been handwavily invited to the Danger Shop today, where an hour prior Remus and Sirius had struggled with the programming and a fair number of expletives had been irritably shouted.

At the moment, though, it appeared as a dank, dark room that had clearly once been the toast of someone's rather ostentatious home. The furniture and trappings had clearly been unattended for several decades, however.

"Hello, everyone!" Remus said cheerfully, because this was the sort of day where excess cheer would come in handy. "Defending oneself against dark creatures and evil people isn't always going to be enough. Occasionally, you'll run across cursed objects themselves, which will look perfectly harmless. In Muggle films, these are often depicted as a relic, or a book, the opening or touching of which will invoke some sort of thousand year-old curse. These aren't just stories, at least in our world. At home, we have an entire section of our government devoted to bewitched and misused objects."

"And sometimes they're beloved family heirlooms," Sirius added sourly, glancing around the room. "In this room, there are several cursed objects. What you are looking for are found on the sheets of parchment that Merlin and Griff assuming they are here are passing out to you now. Please search for and identify as many as you can before the class is over without enchanting or poisoning yourself or your classmates."

He pointed to a basket of dragonhide gloves. "The gloves aren't optional today."

"As always, we're both available to help and answer questions," Remus added helpfully. "Don't touch anything with your bare hands, please, and if you run into trouble, do let us know."

Classical Genre [Tuesday, 1st Period]

[cuff-me-once.livejournal.com]

Along with the usual coffee and pastries, a very disgruntled looking Rick with a whiteboard and a television was there to greet the class. Once the class had settled in, he started writing.

( Cut for images )

[OOC: OCD up.]

[Class Roster|Syllabus|Class Rules|Previous Classes]

Infantry Tactics [Wednesday Second Period]

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

This week the run began without any ridiculously heavy equipment to put on first. "This week we're starting things off easy," Max explained. "You've learned how to move, and stay in formation, and carry a shield, and you've done well enough that today you're going to get to do something dangerous. Today I'm going to give you swords." Well, blunt training swords, but you could still hurt someone pretty badly with one if only by smacking them in the head.

"Various people have argued for various weapons to be issued to their troops for all sorts of reasons, but you will each be issued a training gladius because it is an extremely flexible weapon. It has been argued that the short length of the blade robs the gladius of the sort of elegance a longer weapon has, and that's true. But war isn't elegant. A longer blade is harder to control and more likely to get away from you. And since you should be standing in formation with your squad mates, that's a serious concern. Better a weapon you can control when loss of control can take out a friend."

"And lack of elegance is actually a good thing here. Remember that you're part of a unit. You work together and you keep each other alive by paying attention to your squad mates at all times. If you had some nobleman's dueling sword you'd be temped to try something fancy, and you'd step out of formation to do it, and then you'd get someone you were supposed to be watching out for killed."

He turned to glare back over his shoulder to drive home the importance of his next words. "I will be teaching you nine specific strikes. You will then practice these nine strikes until you know them by heart. And you will not use any other moves with a sword in this class unless I give you leave to do so." The nine legionary strikes had been developed over centuries to be efficient, easy to learn, hard to screw up, and, above all, effective.

Since they weren't carrying any extra weight Max pushed the run a little faster and a little farther than usual, but he figured no one should have a problem with that. Eventually he drew to a stop at a cleared practice area and picked up a training blade from the waiting pile.

"There are four diagonal strikes," he began. "Up and from the left," he intoned as he demonstrated the strike. "Up and from the right, down and from the left, and down and from the right." He exhibited each move in turn. "Notice that these are not sweeping gestures. They are short and controlled, involving minimal effort." Max began demonstrating the next set. "There are, as you've probably figured out, two horizontal strikes, one from each side, and two vertical ones, upward and downward. And finally there is the straight thrust."

Max's eyes narrowed suddenly. "The straight thrust should almost never be used. You are fighting in a formation, and that means that winning just means outlasting your opponent. Your strike just has to be enough to draw blood. Do that over and over and eventually your enemies fall down and you win. Nothing fancy. None of those whirling flourishes that are in the movies. A short, quick slash is all you need."

Stepping back, he waved at the pile of swords. "Grab your gear and find some space. Practice the strikes I've shown you, and I'll come around and correct your form." Because, yeah, he expected them to screw up.

Library, Wednesday [0/30]

[ancientbschamp.livejournal.com]

Gabrielle still had a couple of those energy shots left on her by the time Wednesday morning rolled around. This could, of course, be potentially disastrous. At least she hadn't actually drunk any of them yet -- she was kind of hoarding the little things.

Whatever she was scribbling down frenetically on the scroll spread out in front of her might make an editor cry.

[OOC: OCD-free, open except third period, warning of SP for "sick and possibly falling asleep."]

Punching People for Fun and Profit, Period 1 [Class Five | 9/30/2009]

[nofatjokes.livejournal.com]

Fred stood in front of the class, wearing what looked to be a large karate gi. They met in the danger shop again, and the surroundings were a replication of a Japanese dojo.

"Now, we're gonna give a crash course in a couple of Asian fighting styles. You can't possibly learn anything real in one damn class, so we're just going to show off some styles. You get to just watch today, for the most part. If I let most of you try, you'll probably break your idiot selves. So. Here we go."

Fred hit a button, which generated a holographic martial artist.

"First, we're gonna show off Fujian White Crane," Fred said. The martial artist started going through some moves. "This is from South China. And, well..."

Fred droned on for a bit, sharing info from the wiki link about the style.

"Next, we're gonna go for Judo," Fred said. Now there were two holographic martial artists, and they started going through a series of throws and chokes. "This is from Japan. Some good stuff, too. Lots of grappling and stuff." He then went into some more detail from the wiki link.

"Finally, we got Muay Thai," Fred explained. The holographic martial artists began to demonstrate various muay thai strikes against each other. "This one's from Indochina, you got that? And, well, as you can see..." Fred then went into some more detail.

"Okay, for the rest of the day?" Fred chuckled, and a movie screen appeared on the wall behind him. "We're gonna watch some Bruce Lee. Enjoy the easy day, kids. Next week it gets interesting."

[ooc: OCD first, por favor Open!]

Art 101 - Wednesday, Period Four - 9/30

[notsobadatall.livejournal.com]

Today, the classroom was pretty basic and there was a television up front as opposed to the usual projector.

"I'm sorry about this," he admitted with a shrug, "but I hope you enjoy the film at least. There's.... snacks and things. I'm not that good with coffee or food, but I hope I've provided fully moddable appropriate snacks."

He dimmed the lights and started the movie.

"If there are any elements to the art in the film that you'd like to discuss, please feel free to ask at the end of class or during office hours."

[ocd up][sorry for movie day, but I think I'm coming down with something]

Adventures in Literature, Wednesday, Period Three [Class Five]

[carpe_demon]

Drake was dressed very piratical today in a long brown leather coat, high boots, and, of course, a hat with a feather. He was also armed with sword and pistol. Close examination would prove, however, that the sword was plastic and the pistol fired foam bullets.

"Captain Blood¹," Drake said, "was written in 1922 by Rafael Sabatini, a man who buckled a whole lot of swashes. It was later made into an awesome movie starring Errol Flynn. The lead character is Dr. Peter Blood, which is a pretty ominous name for a doctor, but there you go. At the start of the novel, he lives in Bridgwater², England, practicing medicine while a rebellion against King James II begins. Blood has been a soldier in the past and wants no part of these new battles, but he get dragged in when he treats a rebel who was wounded in battle. For this, he is arrested for treason, tossed in jail, and sentenced to death, but the King later decides to sell the rebels into slavery in the Caribbean.

"In Barbados, Blood is purchased by Colonel Bishop to work in the fields, but when his skills as a doctor become known, he is granted more freedom. When the Spanish attack the island, Blood is able to escape with some of his fellow slaves. They seize one of the Spanish ships and begin a glorious career of piracy. Along the way he teams up with the French pirate Levasseur for a time, but later duels and kills him after Levasseur tries to make off with Arabella Bishop³, niece of the man who bought Blood. While returning Arabella and her companion, Lord Willoughby, to Port Royal, Blood and his crew find it under attack by the French. Lord Willoughby begs the pirates to save the colony, and unsurprisingly they tell him to take a hike -- why would they fight for James II, the man who imprisoned and enslaved them? So Lord Willoughby lets them know that James II has been deposed, and the new rulers of England, William and Mary, have offered pardons and emancipation to those unjustly imprisoned. So the men are then thrilled to fight for their country, sneak into the harbor flying French colors, and save the colony. As a reward, Peter Blood is made governor of the colony. He also, of course, gets the girl." There was a shifty look in Karla's direction. "Or she gets him, as the case may be, because it's clear she's got the hots for him early on, but he's understandably all hung on on being owned by her uncle.

"So for today's discussion, put yourself in Dr. Peter Blood's place. Would you knowingly treat a man who was injured fighting against the ruler of your land despite wishing to remain neutral? This wasn't just a flesh wound -- the man was dying, and Blood was his only chance to survive. Would it matter if you knew the person or not? If you were unjustly imprisoned and sold into slavery, would you turn pirate as revenge, or just change your name and try to live your life quietly and unnoticed? Or would you try to clear your name, no matter how futile it seemed? Keep in mind, James II was a believer in absolute monarchy -- it was his way, or the highway."


[Syllabus | Class Roster]


¹ Text of the book online - If you've read and liked The Three Musketeers, you should enjoy this as well.
² This made me giggle. If you know where I live, you'll understand why.
³ Random trivia: in the book, it's actually Madamoiselle d'Onefoys that Blood and Levasseur fight over. In the movie, they combined her character with Arabella Bishop.
⁴ Yes, I'm fully aware I'm a dork.

Ethics [Thursday, October 1, 1st period]

[sith_happened]

When the Ethics class arrived in the Danger Shop, they stepped into an entirely different world.

An incredibly dry, hot one. That smelled really bad.

Anakin waved his hand around the room. "Welcome to the embodiment of gluttony," he said, "the palace of a Hutt."

He concentrated on the controls on the far side of the room, and the simulation sprung to life: dozens of beings drinking, eating, and dancing, with all activity centered around a vile slug of a beast laying on the raised dais at the front of the room.

In a place of honor on the wall was a man, face twisted in a silent scream but his features obscured beyond recognition, encased in silver. Anakin ignored it as he walked past to point at the creature on the dais. "That," he said, nose wrinkling in disgust, "is a Hutt. This particular version was named Jabba, one of the most powerful crime lords in the galaxy." A grim smile turned the corners of his mouth up. "At least until he met my children."

He shook his head. "That is neither here nor there. Today is an interactive experience for you, class. Take a good hard look around. See the effects that gluttony can have."

His eyes went flat. "Touch any of the dancing girls and you'll regret it. That's a promise."