So You're Crushing the Pitiful Resistance Movement, Monday, Period 4

[willbevengeance.livejournal.com]

Bruce was at the front of the room, dressed in his finest black suit with a pink pocket square to show his allegiance to Umbridge's rule. As usual.

"Welcome back, class. I hope you had a good weekend," Bruce said. "After discussing warning signs that somebody is a rebel and what kind of unauthorized magic to look out for the past couple weeks, I thought we'd discuss what to do when you found one of those terrorists."

( There is no subtle discouragement in this lecture at all. )

Detention, Depths of the Castle, Monday

[bigdamnprisoner.livejournal.com]

Morning had broken in Fandom, and another day in detention was about to begin, the same as every other day.

For the moment, things were as quiet as they probably ever got, while everyone was still resting on their cots, women on one side of the magical black cloth barrier, men on the other. Soon, those who had managed to sleep would be woken by the ever-cheerful voice of Dolores Umbridge coming from the loudspeakers, ordering them to rise. The barrier would disappear, and whatever bland, tasteless substance they were calling breakfast today would appear instead. After that, those in detention were free to do whatever they wanted ... if they could find anything to do that didn't break one of the island's rules, or that could be done while trapped away from everyone else.

But really, the days of those in detention weren't that slow. Soon enough, visiting hours would start, and there wouldn't be nearly as much boredom then.

[OCD is up, have at it!]

Study Hall: Monday

[toomanyofme.livejournal.com]

The Madri were not in a happy mood this morning. The Study Hall had been invaded by wee tiny ocelots. They were cute. They were fuzzy.

But to the Madri? They were annoying. The only thing allowed that was fuzzy in their mind was Umbridge's pink and fuzzy sweaters.

The ocelots were quickly caged despite their mewling protests and the Madri had once again surrounded the hall keeping a watchful eye on any subversive activities the students might be attempting.

Time to study children!

Monday Morning Announcements!

[umbitch.livejournal.com]

Bright and early (there would be no sleeping in on her watch), Dolores Umbridge's chipper voice rang out over the intercom.

"Good morning, children!" she crowed, making sure everyone could hear the smile in her voice. "It's another beautiful morning here on the island and I hope you all are just as happy about that as I am."

Umbridge severely doubted that but she also didn't care. This island was hers and everyone would do what she said or they would suffer the consequences. "Now, I know you're all eager for the news so let's get right to it, shall we? For those worried, detention continues to be a bastion of learning and academic pursuits for those that might need some extra attention. Your students and teachers within detention are having the time of their lives."

They weren't. Again, Umbridge didn't care.

"Classes today will focus on helping your High Inquisitor maintain the harmonious balance here on the island. Remember, if you see a rule breaker, report it immediately and you will be rewarded."

Probably not.

"But remember, if you don't report it, you will be held accountable and you will have to answer to me. Really, I'm quite pleasant so I'm sure most of you won't report any misdeeds just so you can see me. We'll have a nice chat, really!"

Again, probably not.

"And the most important announcement today? Have fun! I know that's a given here on this island but I wanted to remind you anyway!"

With that, the intercom clicked off and Umbridge's voice was no longer there.

[Feel free to react, of course!]

Clasics of Magical Literature, Monday, 7/23

[world-enchanted.livejournal.com]

The young -- very young -- woman at the front of the classroom did not look as though she had expected to teach, even though she'd been doing it for the better part of three months now. Her soft voice was laced with a stammer, and faint scarred writing was visible on her hands even though her long sleeves hid the bulk of it.

"Um, hi," she said tentatively, once everyone seemed to be more or less seated. "This week we're t-taking a break from the magical works to discuss an, um, Muggle fairy tale called 'Hansel and Gretel.' I'm ... n-not sure if everyone knows it, so, uh, I'll just ... read a modern retelling. The Brothers Grimm original is in your handouts"

Tara drew a deep breath and began to read. "Once upon a time a very poor woodcutter lived in a tiny cottage in the forest with his two children, Hansel and Gretel. His second wife often ill-treated the children and was forever nagging the woodcutter..." she began, and went right through to, "And they all lived happily together ever after."

And then she stopped and looked at the class. "So," she said, "it seems like H-hansel and Gretel got away with it at the end." But any subversive potential there was quickly undercut by the words of her next sentence, even if the tone showed she didn't really believe herself on this. "But -- we should probably think about how much better it would have been for them if they'd just st-stayed away from things they didn't understand. If they'd just, um, said 'oh, okay, this is a magical house, we should k-keep going,' the witch ... wouldn't have had to trap them in cages. Th-they would have been fine and wouldn't have blood on their hands, and the poor witch would still be alive."

She paused there, drew another deep breath. "Today during class," she said, "I want you to write a reaction to the story from the point of view of the witch. It can be f-fiction or an essay. I'm ... here if you need me."

A Room in Umbridge's Castle, Monday

[alittlecrooked.livejournal.com]

Noises niggling in the back of his skull, a flash of drab grey stone, the pungent stench of-- eugh, what was that?--

Atton was waking up.

He'd kind of hoped he wouldn't.

"Meurgh," he muttered, lifting his head and squinting against the light. There was a big dank spot swimming around his brain where she'd hit him with that-- whatever that Force trick was-- but it was still just pressing up against the sound of feet-on-floor and the fifty dozen odd smells that liked to hang around this place.

He swallowed. Licked his lips. Managed a grimace that was sort of a smile. "Back again, are we? Can't get enough of it, can you?"
( someone could probably use an asprin or two )

[ooc: NFI, Establishy, Sugar Free with Zero Calories. Also, warning for torture/violence under the cut.]

Moral Philosophy, Monday

[nomutineer.livejournal.com]

"...So last week concluded our classes on classic moral philosophers, and why they've got the wrong end of the stick," Kaidan started. He had a vague smile on his face to match the fog in his mind, his fingertips pressing into the hand-outs. "Now, we're going to be talking about the right way to do it. I'm going to talk for a while, and then you're going to take this test - it's just a couple of scenarios. Describe what you're going to do and why."

He cleared his throat.

"Order is important," he said. "It's what keeps our society together, you know? Everything's got to be in its proper place. Because if you make a machine, it's got to have all the pieces fitting together, otherwise it's not going to move. Morality should be an extension of that-- punishment for acts that cross the boundaries of our order, praise for those who work well within it."

You'd almost think he'd forgotten about the mutiny he'd encouraged Shepard into only a few short months ago.

"Most of us are just cogs in the machine," he continued, "We have to trust that the people who operate the levers know what they're doing. That they know when it's a good age to start looking for a partner, and when it's a good age to sit down and learn and keep your hands to yourself. To trust that they know who the enemy is, and they know how to direct us against that enemy, to keep us safe."

"We can have bad leaders, no doubt about that," he added, "But if we don't put our faith in them, then they don't even get a chance to be more than that."

He started handing out papers. "Now think about that while you fill in your tests."

Art, Monday, P2 [Week 4]

[passesoninfo.livejournal.com]

This morning, class started (unusually) exactly on time. No coffee, no pastries, and no waiting for latecomers. The only thing that remained somewhat the same, was the teachers. They were both there, though Savannah appeared to be taking rather a backseat role, sitting on a desk in the periphery and observing the proceedings, while Angela paced between the easels. Both were looking distinctly less chirpy than they might normally, and were wearing a disproportionate amount of black.

Even the art room itself was darker than usual, blinds partly drawn and the only other light coming from several clip-on lights, highlighting each portrait painting standing placed in a neat semi-circle. Much like the paintings from a certain other school in a reality far far away, the subjects were not remaining static. In fact, they were downright fidgety, and one appeared to be picking his nose obliviously.

“Anyone idiot can draw,” Angela announced, with little warning. “Your task today is to... edit.” Moustaches, fake glasses, a change in eye or hair colour, all fair game. As were a multitude of other alterations... Not that either teacher chose to elaborate today. The implication was enough, and the various portraits looked unimpressed to say the least. Good luck actually keeping a subject still enough to do anything to them, kids. "You should all know where the supplies are by now."

Angela waited a beat.

“Well, go on then.”