Mad Science & You: Week 13 (Tuesday, Period 3)

[daimonhost.livejournal.com]

This week, the Danger Shop had once again been set up like a gothic castle, because apparently mad scientists were obsessed with gothic work spaces. However, unlike the previous classes, this gothic castle seemed kind of whimsical.

Prof Tomoe stood in front of a giant conveyor belt machine with a look of barely hidden disgust on his shadowy face. A man dressed all in black hid over in a dark corner, away from the class.

"Apparently there were concerns from the school board last week about me forcing you to pilot giant mechanical/angelic hybrid machines powered by the souls of dead mothers forcibly ripped from their bodies, which were trying to bring about Instrumentality by sacrificing all of humanity in order to unbirth them into the womb of a planetary-sized naked clone of Lilith. So, this week, we'll be taking a look at the ... cuddly side of mad science."

He placed his coffee cup down on the large, steampunk type machine behind him. "This is the lab of the late Dr Price. You see this machine behind me, full of gears and knives? Any guesses about what it might do?" He paused a moment for answers, before barrelling on. "It makes cookies. Cutesy shaped sugar cookies. With frosting. A perfectly good waste of mad engineering. And despite all this, it's only Dr Price's second greatest invention." He turned to the figure in the corner. "Edward?" he called.

The young man shyly walked forward, careful to keep his scissor hands aimed down at the floor. Prof Tomoe pointed at him. "Dr Price managed to create a near-human homunculus. Had Dr Price not died suddenly Edward would not have been left with these." He pointed at Edward's shears. Edward tried to hide them from the class' view. "And yet, despite the prodigious weapons attached to his arms, Edward here prefers to use them for hair cutting, and tree pruning, and ice sculpting, and other goody-goody things."

He sighed. "So for today's class, you can make some cookies. Or let Edward cut your hair. I don't care especially much."

Combat- Tuesday- 2nd period- Class #13

[solo_sword]

At thirty-two, Jaina had participated in four wars, had ended a fifteen-year military career as a colonel leading the same squadron she'd first started out in, had led multiple squadrons that she'd had to break down and build up again, led weeks-long ground campaigns, had killed a Sith lord and was basically a Master level fighter. Teaching a class on combat was pretty far beneath her if we're being honest.

At sixteen, Jaina had only just, had battle experience that mostly consisted of "Uh oh, we're in trouble again, I hope this plan I just came up with right this second works," and only knew she was supposed to be here because it was on the calendar in her phone. Because of course the first thing Jaina did after she woke up in a strange apartment was to find the nearest gadget and find out what she could from it.

But being Jaina, she wasn't going to show that she had no idea what she was doing, especially when she thought this was all probably a Fandom thing, and tried to look cool about this. "Hi," she said, when everyone'd gotten to the Danger Shop. Because you better believe she'd figured that out already, too, and had jumped at the chance to use it. "Apparently I'm supposed to be here teaching Combat. I don't have any details on what I'm supposed to teach you-" And from now on adult Jaina would be giving herself more detailed notes just in case. "-so how about you find the thing you think you're best at and show me what you've got."

Look, you wake up and find out you had to deal with a class, okay?

Ethics [Tuesday, November 27, 2012, 1st period]

[emo-padawan.livejournal.com]

After a confusing early morning, Anakin had made his way to school and had eventually figured out that he was supposed to be teaching. And not just teaching, teaching a class on ethics.

Obi-Wan wasn't nearly as funny as he thought he was, Anakin thought darkly.

So he'd slapped a note on the classroom door telling the students (ha! he had students!) to meet him at the flight simulator. He could always teach people to fly.

"Hey," he said when the students arrived, hiding his sudden attack of nerves behind attitude. "I'm Anakin. Today we're doing, um, practical ethics. Hop into this flight simulator--it's set up on a really easy--" for Anakin, so your mileage may vary, "--starfighter battle. In the midst of the battle are a couple of civilian ships. Don't kill the civilians."

He shrugged, then yanked on the braid hanging behind one ear. "Or do, but give me a good reason for it, okay?"

Personal Improvement Through Science: Aperture Science Presents Physical Education (Wed/Per 2)

[gladigotburned.livejournal.com]

Caroline didn't want to be in charge here today; she'd much rather have been back at the main facility back in Michigan, overseeing her usual round of experiments, but for whatever reason -- and she didn't ask -- Mr. Johnson had asked her to do this. Apparently, he'd left detailed instructions on the mainframe computer in the office she'd been assigned -- which she must have been up all night going over, since she woke up in the office. Not a new occurrence, honestly. (In reality, GLaDOS had just recreated one of Aperture's old test chambers from archived plans and was about to give it a modernized facelift when Fandom's latest quirk had kicked in.)

Well, if it was in the name of science she wouldn't really object, and besides, she knew how lucky she was to get to do as much hands-on work at the labs as she did. Not many 18-year-olds, especially women, got that opportunity. And to be running a pilot project like this, a test run for the program they planned to start now that they'd gotten that big shower-curtain manufacturing deal with Eisenhower's Department of Defense? That was a lot of pressure in itself, which explained the nervous demeanor of the young woman standing by the door in the entry corridor, wearing a crisp white lab coat with the Aperture Science Innovators logo neatly embroidered on the lapel, clipboard gripped tightly in one hand. It was nice to know Mr. Johnson had that much confidence in his fledgling personal assistant, but that only made her more determined to do the job well.

"Hi, everyone," she said, enthusiastically if quietly. (Remember, Caroline, just keep playing along like it's really a class, she reminded herself.) "The usual . . . um, administrator couldn't be here today so Mr. Johnson sent me to cover. It looks like you'll be working with repulsion gel today -- you're familiar with that already, it says, so if you've got your Portable Quantum Tunneling Devices ready?"

She opened the door to the test chamber and gestured for them to step inside.

"Go ahead and begin. I'll be monitoring you from the observation room."

[OOC: Remember, if a future you appears in the post, don't let it do anything before the OCD's done the OCD's done, but don't make eye contact anyway. Time paradoxes are detrimental to science.]