Chemistry 102, Friday, Period 2

[usedtowhizz.livejournal.com]

It was probably a bad sign when your teacher was asleep at his desk before the bell rang on the first day of classes. It had been a long night, okay? These things happened. But the second the bell rang, James lifted his head, took a sip from a water bottle, and yawned.

"Welcome to Chemistry 102. It's not 101 because this way you get to feel like you're better than people at other schools who are stuck in 101. You can thank me for that later," James said. "My name's James Sanders and you better believe I'm making you call me Professor Sanders. Failure to do that will result in the most severe punishment I can give you without having to do paperwork. That's right, your name is going to go up on the board. I might even misspell it, just to piss you off."

( That would show the brats. )

Coping With Change, Friday, Period 3

[furnaceface]

//Change,// Jonothon said, stepping into the classroom and starting his lecture without preamble today, //happens. Winter turns to spring, puppies turn into dogs, people come and go. There are very few constants in the world. But, I hope, you knew that. Anyone who's had me as a teacher in semesters past can likely see that I'm no stranger to the idea, either.//

He leaned back against the front of his desk, arms crossed over the bandages that kept his flames from licking out from his chest and face into the room.

( If you're in this class... )

[OOC: Open! Have at!]

The Modern Workplace and You: Friday, period 1

[notmysupervisor.livejournal.com]

When the class trickled in, they'd find Cheryl sitting on a desk with an ocelot seated on the floor to the right of her. She was daintily peeling off strips of bacon from a pack and dropping them onto the floor. "Is that okay for him to eat?" she wondered, looking at Pam. "I don't want to clean up barf later." Priorities, kids.

“How should I know?” Pam asked, hands on her hips. “You’re the one that bought yourself a dang ocelot. You can figure out what he’s gonna puke up and what he’s not.” Although really, Babou seemed to puke up everything, regardless. It was like he did it out of spite.

( more bickering and actual class content under here! )

(OOC: This is not taking place in the Danger Shop. There is a live ocelot in class. Feel free to pet him, but any scratches you get are real and are your own problem to deal with. He won't attack without provocation, promise. Also, Cheryl and Pam [ESPECIALLY Cheryl] are kind of ableist assholes. I know we've said this to death but yadda yadda disclaimer disclaimer, I'm sorry for your kids.)

Flavors, Food Choices, and Menu Planning - Friday, 4th period

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal waited for everyone to arrive and settle in, then smiled at them. "Welcome back. I realize this week is generally reserved for introductions, but as we all know each other, I believe we can skip that."

He held up a hand. "However, we won't simply jump in, either. I have a syllabus for this class," which he passed out, "but you may notice it's a bit sparser than last semester's. This is intentional. You also may notice that your final project is a collaboration; this entire class will be."

"So." He sat back. "Tell me what it is you hope to learn this semester. I know, for instance, that Miss Rilla is working with planning charitable dinners. And Sparkle would like to do some more flambé. What else would each of you prefer to take away from this class? I can make no promises, but there is a wide range of possibilities. Tell me what you would like."

He spread his hands and waited.