So You're In the Middle of a War, Monday, Period 4

[cataclysmicluck.livejournal.com]

"Good afternoon, everyone. Welcome to a class about war. Taught by a pacifist. Who is now an officer in the Republic Navy back in my home galaxy after only being drafted two months ago," Zayne greeted. "My name is Lieutenant Zayne Carrick of the Republic Hammerhead frigate Reciprocity, and for the past couple years I've been increasingly involved in a war between the Republic and a nomadic group called the Mandalorians."

( War. What is it good for? Class material. Uh, sing it again. )

Practical Philosophy, Monday

[endsthegame]

Class gathered in a well-airconditioned classroom this time - considering the weather, Ender didn't think it prudent to go outside this time. All the chairs had been shoved aside to the walls, however, and a blanket spread on the floor. He sat down there before anyone else had entered, and waited.

( I'll tell you what I told my previous class. )

Library, Monday

[faithandscience.livejournal.com]

Apparently the library had decided William's birthday was worth celebrating, as he came in to find a cupcake on the circulation desk.

And in with the science periodicals.

And the history books.

And the fantasy novels.

Eventually William had amassed quite the collection of cupcakes. There was no way he'd actually be able to eat all of those.

[ooc: no OCD because I'mma be in a car all day, but open for some super-SP.]

Monday: Study Hall

[multi-madrox.livejournal.com]

Anyone coming into Study Hall today would find Jamie Madrox sitting behind the desk, his feet up and a cup of coffee right at hand.

Of course the first thing they would probably notice is that the room was filled with bananas. And that there were also a bunch of Jamie-duplicates eating said bananas.

"Watch where you sit," Jamie called out as he kicked another clump of bananas off the desk. "The bananas are everywhere and keep showing up. I'm trying to keep the duplicates ahead of the bananas. Make sure to eat some so you can get your daily dose of potassium."

Yep. It probably goes without saying that study hall with Jamie Madrox would no doubt be bananas.

Poetry 101, Monday, July 2

[withoutverona]

"I asked Wikipedia to tell me what poetry was as I wrote this class," Romeo announced, once everyone seemed to be in their seats. It was a small group, so he'd pulled the desks into a circle, and there was a table of cool drinks near the door for anyone who might otherwise be too hot and thirsty to think. "It told me the word poetry comes from a Greek term, poiesis -- making. Though it is likely this is a mere accident of etymology, it struck me as entirely appropriate. For what is poetry if not a way to make our worlds by fitting words around them?"

"To go down some myths: Poetry does not have to rhyme. It doesn't have to fit into a certain form, though the constraint of working within such can heighten the art. In this class, we will write and read as much poetry as I can fit into two months. But I'd hardly buck tradition by depriving you of an introduction week. My suggestion, if you can, is that you fit your introductions into the form of either of two short poetic styles -- a haiku or a limerick. "

He went on to briefly explain the rules around both, while reading some famous examples.

"But if you find you've too much to say to fit into either form, write a different kind of poem and I will listen. You've fifteen minutes to write, then the rest of class is for sharing your poems."

"A few more bits of business, and then you may start. First, I have been informed Miss Cassie Blake is to be my assistant, for which I am profoundly grateful." A pause as Romeo reached for anything more that seemed important. "Oh, and I'm Romeo. Don't call me Professor Montague, I'm not nearly that aged."

And then he stopped, sipped from his water, and bent over a piece of paper, hoping the students would be encouraged to write by seeing the professor doing it as well.

Art Games, Monday, P2 [Week 1]

[flashesforinfo.livejournal.com]

When the students arrived this morning, they would see Angela and Savannah perched on a desk at the front of the room. On either side of the desk were two large easels with large pads of blank paper on each one. There were two coffee cans of markers on the desk next to the easels, and a bowl with folded slips of paper.

Angela hopped up from her spot at the front once it looked like everyone who was going to arrive, had. She was getting into this teaching lark. “Welcome, all of you, to Art Games. I know a few of you should remember me, but for those who don’t, I’m Angela.” If she had you last session and you fell in the latter category, she was offended guys, she really was.

Savannah grinned. “And I’m Savannah. I graduated from here two years ago.”

“We just couldn’t stay away,” Angela joked.

“There’s something that just keeps pulling us back here.” Or, it was the promise of paint guns, one of the two. “So, today, we want you to tell us your names and count off by twos.”

“Everyone’s going to ask you for intros this week, so we’re going to play a little game instead.”

Savannah held up the bowl and shook it a little. “In this bowl are slips of paper with words or scenes written on them. Your assignment is to draw the scene or words on the large paper for your team -- but they have to be pictures, no words. The team that has the most correct guesses by the end of class, wins.”

“There is a TA slot or two open. See one of us after class if you want in,” Angela added. “There might be cookies in it for you.” They were definitely not above bribery.