Basic Mis-Intelligence [Monday, Period 2]

[doubleohblonde]

Today the Danger Shop theatre was back to having normal chairs. Also small baskets of chocolate eggs and currant buns.

"Good morning," Bond greeted them "Now, as you may have gotten the impression from some of the works we've watche dover the semester, being involved in intelligence work can have a negative impact on one's personal relationships, especially when your partner or other loved ones are unaware of your work. If trust is the cornerstone of a good relationship, then the secrets and lies that come with spy work are not going to help. Today's offering showcases one of the worst possible ways to handle this kind of tension."

Seriously, it made Bond's drinking and semi-anonymous sex look healthy.

[Class Roster]

Defending Yourself Against Magic | Tuesday, 4th period

[nuclear_snide]

"All right!" Bob clapped his hands together. The Danger Shop today was looking once more like a city street, but this time the damage seemed to have already been done. There were simulated smoking holes in the simulated buildings, and simulated torn apart cars strewn around the streets.

"Not all defence happens before trouble starts," Bob declared. "It's not like you defend, and then someone attacks, and you're done. Well, not unless you're in some sort of a regulated duel." And this was Defending Against Magic, not How To Duel. "And 'defence' doesn't just mean defending yourself, either."

Simulated people appeared around the city - standing and looking confused, running away, downed and bleeding.

"This battle is still going on. Who's attacking isn't important; you won't see them, and you won't be fighting them. You'll only see their damage. Your job is to help these people - to keep them and yourselves alive. Find ways to shield them from danger. Heal them. Remove them from the line of fire, if you can find it. Use what you've learned so far this semester, use your own powers, use your terrain and your wits. Questions?"

Creative Problem Solving, Tuesday, period 3

[vdistinctive]

The Danger Shop was set up like a little carnival today, complete with lots of big spinny rides and buildings full of mirrors and twisty hallways and disconcerting smells. Eliot and Parker waited for the kids by the entrance. Eliot was eyeing one of the rides suspiciously, but looked away as the students started to enter. He held a large brindle labrador puppy on a leash. The puppy bounced excitedly around his legs, tail going so fast it was practically a propeller.

"Welcome back," he said. "Hope everyone had a good weekend, whether you went camping or not."

“It’s a carnival day! You don’t have to fight anything,” Parker told them. “Unless you really want to punch a clown. I can understand that.” She bent down to pet Val. “Instead, we’ve got a find-a-treasure-hunt.”

Val yipped and play-bowed, staring up at Parker excitedly. She was a puppy. Her default mode was excited.

"The treasure, in this case, bein' this here girl," Eliot said, leaning down to unhook Val from her leash. "She gets a head start." Val froze when the leash was disengaged, looking up at Eliot. He nodded to her and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Val, git."

She dashed off with another yip and disappeared around a corner by the shooting gallery.

Parker grinned. “You have to find the puppy and bring her back to us. She’s a sweetie, so you won’t have to hurt her, just maybe… herd her.” She paused and added, “Don’t feed her anything with chocolate.”

Oh god, how did Parker talk him into this? Simulated cotton candy wouldn't give his dog a stomach ache, would it?

"She ain't real good at coming when you call yet," Eliot said, not letting his anxiety show on his face. "And she loves playin' hide and seek." He rolled his shoulders and gave the ride he'd been eyeing another look. "Careful around the rides. I mean -- I know there's safeties and all, but --"

Look, you got hit in the face with one of those things once and you got leery.

“Megabyte loves everybody. So have fun, guys!”

"That ain't her --" Eliot cut himself off with a groan. "Just -- go look for her."

How to Develop a Personal Style [Tuesday]

[begmetwice.livejournal.com]

"Y'know," Irene said as everyone filed into the Danger Shop -- today programmed to look, perhaps unsurprisingly, like the formalwear area of an upscale department store, "prom's one of those things that's really starting to catch on, where I'm from, but sadly isn't something I grew up with. We had formals, of course, but never...prom, like in American films."

She sighed heavily. Because her life was hard without prom, of course, even if she was in a position now to wear a ladies' tuxedo to work when she felt like it.

"In any case -- for some of you, this may be your very first formal event, or your very last for a long while. Some of you may not be old enough for prom, for which I apologize because you're still stuck playing dress-up with us today. Think of it as practice." She flashed a smile. "But in any case -- the term formal, when it comes to fashion, has some fairly strict rules. Ladies -- you're expected to wear a gown that reaches the floor, and gents, you're expected to be in a tux with a tie. Jewelry and accessories are at your discretion, though I implore you to wear matching or coordinating shoes, please, because it will look better."

She paused, looked down at what she was wearing, and added, "Of course, certain rules are meant to be broken, so don't feel compelled to stick to that too carefully. What I want you focusing on today is finding something that you feel comfortable wearing. Look for high-caliber fabrics and fit -- remember, you have to wear this bloody thing all night, and even if you think that strapping yourself into something held together by wishes looks sexy as hell, remember that even the very best tape doesn't always hold up on a warm dance floor."

She waved out towards the clothes. "Go try things on. Play. Experiment. Try different colors. If you're looking for a tux, remember that you want satin here," she gestured, "on your lapels, and running down the line of your trouser leg. And I must emphasize: if you wear a black trouser and put on a brown shoe, I might well cry. It will do you no favors, personal style or no. Just please don't. Oh! And if you absolutely fall in love with anything you see, come find me. I've programmed in actual things you can order online, so we can have it rushed here by Saturday if you meet your soulmate."

Ethics, Tuesday

[saddeserthermit]

"Today, we would like to confront you with a somewhat more mythical ethical scenario," Obi-Wan said. He had his hands tucked into the sleeves of his robes, but looked to be somewhat in good spirits. "Which circumstances have delayed a few too many times..."

Like through invasions and ancient Jedi Masters.

Details!

"But it's much less traumatizing than the droid babies," Anakin promised, which, admittedly wasn't that high a bar to clear. "There's a story from this planet called The Lady or the Tiger that I believe many of you might have already heard about, in a mythical land where trial by combat was still a thing."

He shrugged. "Obi-Wan and I have been to a similar planet. It was Obi-Wan's fault."

Keep telling yourself that about Geonosis, Anakin.

"Excuse me?" Obi-Wan said sharply. "I rather distinctly remember the situation surrounding Geonosis going rather differently." Beat. "It is Geonosis you're referring to, isn't it?"

Look, they'd been to a lot of planets. Some of which utilized trial by combat.

Anakin nodded, smirking slightly. "With the...space tiger." Easier than explaining a nexu. "Anyway, in the story, a princess has taken up a relationship with a commoner and her father finds out, which is never how you want these particular stories to go. He proposes a trial by combat: if the man is innocent, the door he opens will lead to a beautiful lady--not the princess--who he will immediately be married to. If he opens the second, he gets a grisly and public death by tiger."

"The man is understandably in quite a state," Obi-Wan said, "so he looks up to meet the gaze of his former lover. Perhaps she can tell him which door to choose? She then grants him an answer with a gesture of her hand."

He smiled faintly at the class.

"This is where the story itself ends," he said. "The question that remains is: which answer did the princess give the commoner?"

"Take a moment to read the story," Anakin said, "because this isn't exactly a fluffy forgiving princess, and then give us your opinion about what the princess did, and then what you would do."