Creative Problem Solving, Tuesday, period 3

[vdistinctive]

Class met in the Danger Shop, where Eliot had spent the entire night before attempting to learn to program. It may have involved phone calls to Hardison. And teasing him by pretending to not know what a "holodeck" was.

The result was the class meeting up on what looked like the roof of a 15 story building on a bright, cool day. The wind came from the south in short bursts, just hard enough to mess up your hair.

If you think that detail didn't have Eliot scowling and wishing he had a hair tie, think again.

Parker by comparison had her hair tucked up in a little leather beret. Some people knew how to prep.

“Okay! Welcome to Creative Problem Solving!” She beamed at the students. “I guess they usually make you introduce yourselves here, but that’s boring. So, what you have to do is, attach this safety line to your harness--” Both were held up in explanation. “Shout your name, then jump!” She paused. “Really, even if you mess it up, this place won’t let you die.”

So reassuring.

Eliot knew how to prep, dammit. He just really wasn't usually the one on the roof of the tower. Hell, he hadn't even let Parker get him into a harness in the last five years of working with her.

"You won't get injured, either," he said, arms folded over his chest as he tried to pretend his hair wasn't blowing into his face. "If you really, really can't handle jumping off a building --" you're in the wrong class "-- you can find some other way down. There's a window washing platform and stairs. The stairs are locked and the platform is two floors down." He smiled a little wolfishly. "So you'll have to get creative."

“You can work together! You can work alone! You can use your bodies!... not like that,” Parker added, making a vague gesture with her hands. Don’t ask. “Or tools. Or your brains. Or someone else’s tools or brains!” She grinned. “Anything counts as long as you wind up on the ground!” She paused and added thoughtfully, “And there might be evil security guards in the stairwell.”

Eliot frowned. "Parker, I didn't program any security guards." Evil or otherwise.

“Yeah, I know, how could you forget those?” Pfftt. “I put them in when I saw you forgot them.”

Eliot closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. He wasn't really looking forward to seeing what Parker thought 'evil security guards' should be like. "I'll stay up here to help out anyone who gets stuck." Or needs to be rescued from security guards. "Parker'll meet you downstairs with a treat." He was missing something. Oh, right: "I'm Eliot, by the way. That's Parker. We're teachers. Now get going."

Basic Mis-Intelligence [Monday, Period 2]

[doubleohblonde]

Bond had his students meet him at the Danger Shop, which resembled nothing so much as an extremely comfortable home theatre.

"Good morning, and welcome to Basic Mis-Intelligence," Bond greeted them as they arrived. "As you may have gathered from the class description and your surroundings we're going to be spending the semester consuming a great deal of spy films, although some books and television shows will also be involved. We're largely going to be focusing on examples from within the last century of this world, but even that relatively tight focus covers a vast array of styles, political contexts, subgenres, and levels of accuracy with regards to the actual mechanics of intelligence work."

"With that in mind, the first fictional spy we're going to look at is James Bund, member of the British Secret Service, and protagonist of a great many novels and even more film, with entries on various other media to boot. We're starting here not because of Bund's accuracy or quality, both of which vary wildly from story to story, but because he is in many ways the iconic spy character, whose impact can be seen one way or the other over the last half century. Now, there's far too many Bund films to watch in clas if we ever want to look at anything else, so I will be providing you with copies to watch at your leisure over the course of the semester, while today we watch Royal Casino, which served both as a continuity reboot after the films got rather silly and as an adaptation of the first Bund novel."

"But before we get started, the first week of classes means it's time for introductions, so name, class, and why you're taking this one. In the spirit of the class, none of your answers have to be true."

[Class Roster]

Ethics, Tuesday

[saddeserthermit]

This time, instead of one slightly glower-y robe wearing man in the front of the classroom, the students were treated to two! One tall, one shorter, standing an awkward distance apart and trying not to make too much eye contact while not looking like they were avoiding each other.

It was a difficult thing to do without looking really, really tense and...there were not doing it particularly well.

"I'm Anakin Skywalker," Anakin began, shutting the door at precisely the time class began. "This is ethics, and there are a lot of you in here, so we'll have to insist on you being on time and quiet as we're speaking."

"Indeed. As for me, I am Obi-Wan Kenobi," Obi-Wan said. He glowered rather less than Anakin, thank you very much, though awkward... yes. "As the school board has seen it fit to grant this class two teachers. With that out of the way, we welcome you to class. Ethics is a broad but all-encompassing discipline, more of a way of life than simply a field of study. We must all develop our personal ethics as circumstances and personality dictates, of course, but there are central issues we must all test ourselves on."

Anakin didn't make a comment about setting anyone on fire after making two or three very minor..ish errors in judgement! He was so proud of himself. "I've always run this class as a discussion," he said instead, "and recognize that what is clearly right and wrong in my worldview might not be true in yours. As long as you make a compelling argument, I'm prepared to listen."

Just don't try to eat the robobabies this semester, okay? Okay.

"We trust that you will all remain civil," Obi-Wan said, though privately he somewhat doubted that Anakin would. Call it experience. "If not, measures will be taken. Now that that is out of the way, I am told that it is customary for this class to begin with a round of two truths and a lie. Anakin?"

"That is true," Anakin said. "Give us your name, then two things that are true and one that is not. And we'll know because we're Jedi and we can sense the truth. To help you out, we'll also offer up two truths and a lie." He schooled his face to stillness. "I have been married twice. I've saved Obi-Wan's life ten times, and I love the beach."

If Anakin expected Obi-Wan to react, he did not. Though he had a fairly decent idea of which one was a lie-- which meant he had more questions for later, Anakin. "As for myself," he said, "I once received a rock as a birthday gift, I've won a battle by playing dejarik, and I once spent a year living on an ocean planet."

He was keeping his own neutral. Partly also to avoid making any comments about Cato Neimoidia.

You were hilariously high on that planet, Obi-Wan. Anakin totally saved your life. "Right, then," Anakin said after giving Obi-Wan a neutral look of his own. "You." He pointed to the nearest student. "Name, two truths and a lie."

How to Develop a Personal Style [Tuesday]

[begmetwice.livejournal.com]

"Good morning," Irene chirped from her perch on her desk at the front of the room, "and welcome to How to Develop a Personal Style. My name's Irene Adler, if you didn't know already -- I'm not a professor, so don't call me that, but anything else is fine. 'Hey you' works in a pinch, even, but you only get one of those per term. I want to commend all of you on taking your first step to defining your own fashion sense, if you haven't accomplished that yet. So many of us go through life aimlessly buying things because they're in a color or fabric we like, or because they appeal to the senses in some way, without thinking about how the item might incorporate into our wardrobe." She tsked, shaking her head. "Impulse buying is the closet's enemy, and my greatest vice, personally."

"But!" She clapped her hands together briskly. "That is precisely the sort of thing we're going to cover in this class -- how to build what we call a capsule wardrobe, how to define what you want out of it, and what it means to have style."

She didn't feel the need to explain her credentials, especially since she didn't really have any official ones. Irene rather thought her Roland Mouret and Jimmy Choos spoke for themselves, anyway.

"So, since it's the first day, let's continue in the grand tradition of first days, and do the introduction thing. I want your name, why you're here, and how you'd describe your current style in a single word. And yes," she added, smiling, "I want you to introduce yourself even if we've already met. Can't hurt, right?" She pointed at random. "You first, darling."

Defending Yourself Against Magic | Tuesday, 4th period

[nuclear_snide]

Bob crossed his arms and eyed the students somewhat sternly as they settled in. Anyone making extra fuss got extra glare.

When all of those niceties were over, he spoke.

"Good afternoon. My name is Hrothbert of Bainbridge. Which, contrary to the school's belief, does not make 'Bainbridge' my surname. I haven't got one. If you're particularly conservative and formal, which in my experience few teenagers are, you may call me Sir. Otherwise, you can call me Bob."

There would be no jokes about the lack of impressiveness of that name, okay? It had sentimental value.

"This class is defending yourself against magic. If you didn't sign up for it or intend to be here, save yourself the embarrassment and stay anyway. You can probably use it, particularly if you're the sort who can't even make it to the right room for class."

Hey, Bob called it like he saw it.

"I'm told the first week, it's traditional to give introductions. What I'd like to know from you - apart from your name - is what sorts of magic your world has, what you're familiar with, and what, if any, you have experience in. If the answer to all of those questions is 'none', don't worry - it won't be for long.

"I'll go first, shall I? I'm from Earth, most recently Chicago of around six years ago from the island's point of view. My world contains an entire range of beings and magical forces, from dragons to vampires. Magic users - wizards and sorcerers - for the most part do their best to keep the general human population from being aware of them. My specialities as a sorcerer are magical constructs, enchantments, and necromancy. I've had well over a millennium to learn all sorts of things, and I've taught generations of wizards."

He gave them all a sardonic look. "And no, I'm not particularly long-lived for my kind. Should you decide you need to hand me anything, don't bother." He waved his hand through the desk behind him; a golden glow where they met was the only indication it was there.

"I will, understandably, need an assistant to fetch and carry things, take messages, and so forth." He glanced over the class and picked the most responsible-looking person he could. "You, the girl with the white hair. Congratulations, you've got the job." He smiled at Elsa.

"Now, your introductions please."