Physical Education. Wednesday, Period Three

[atreideslioness]

When students arrived in the Danger Shop today, it was set to look like your typical high school gymnasium. In the center was a wire bin filled with seven brightly-colored rubber balls. Oh yes.

"So far you have studied falling and punching," Ghanima said cheerfully as the bell rang. "So, today we're going to look at another classic physical exercise which combines throwing things at people as hard as you can and then running the other way when they come after you: Dodgeball."

She quickly went through and explained the rules. "--and NO headshots or full-body contact," she added, looking at them sternly. "We are not snipers, and I do not feel like explaining brain injuries to the clinic staff."

"No other rules, keep your own score, find your own tactics. Go have fun, and get any lingering tension from the weekend out of your system."

Tactics and Teamwork, Wednesday - Second Period

[worstofalltime.livejournal.com]

Hopefully the class was getting used to the drab environment picked by Agent Washington for their classroom. Because it didn't seem like it would be changing anytime soon.

"You already know the drill. Laps."

Embrace the cardio, kids. Embrace it.

"This weekend was... a thing. That happened. Whether it was good for you or bad, it's over with and time to get back to work. Today is going to be about evasive maneuvers. Learning to avoid getting shot."

Wasn't that fun?

"Two teams against each other with a third party in play." Meaning the teacher. "And I'll even sweeten the deal. If your team manages to hit me, you don't have to run laps next week."

Sadly it would be pretty difficult to accomplish without getting shot first. But the hope was alive!

"Get started."

Pointy End AWAY from You, Wednesday, May 20, 2015

[sith_happened]

Today's Danger Shop was set up as a spaceport cantina, heavy on the scum and villainy. Pretty much everyone in the bar (male, female, otherwise, and Definitely Not Asking) had a chip on his, her, its, or them's shoulder, provided their species had shoulders.

If they didn't, they were just pissy. "Welcome to a cantina," Anakin said with a bright smile. "Your first, I assume, since the drinking age on this planet is stupid."

Obi-Wan was a bit of two minds about this exercise, which would be why occasionally you might see his hand sneaking up in a way that implied an incoming facepalm. "Unless you have visited the drinking establishment in town that does not care for such things," he amended lightly. "Now, sometimes, you may find yourself with genuine weaponry... and sometimes, you may have to improvise."

"As always, running away or disengaging from a confrontation is your first choice," Anakin said, then made a "blah blah blah" motion with his hand. "But you're in a class about weaponry, so today you have to practice, either with the weapon you carry with you or with whatever comes to hand. In a cantina as unsavory as this one, whatever comes to hand can give you a lot of options."

Somewhere in the middle of all this, Obi-Wan had opted for pinching his nose rather than facepalming. He wasn't certain whether he was avoiding smiling at the absurdity or rolling his eyes at how immature this was. "We will not be telling you what you may use," he said. "We trust you all to be practical. When the sim begins, the crowd will get... rowdy. Please try to resolve this in as civilised a way as possible, considering that these beings will not sit down easily."

"Especially the ones without legs," Anakin added because he was under the misimpression that he was funny.

"Good luck," Obi-Wan said, nodding at the class. He slid his hands into the sleeves of his robe. "Anakin? Start the simulation."