How To Get By In A Hostile World, Thursday

[suitably_heroic]

"Welcome to Weaseling 101," Atton announced as the class finished filtering into the room. "Better known on your schedule as How To Get By In A Hostile World. Now, I'm going to be honest with you people: I'm a Jedi. I have fancy powers and officially, some disembodied Force has my back all around the galaxy. But before I was a Jedi, I was just another idiot caught in the middle of bigger forces than me, trying to scrape by."

He leaned onto the desk. "My world has a habit of going to war with itself, and the only way I made it through the first decade or so of being on my own was by thinking on my feet," he said. "Exploring the weaknesses of people stronger than me, figuring out how to squeak by unnoticed, that kind of thing."

He considered the class. "I've been a soldier," he said, "I've been a pilot. I've been an assassin. I got to be all of those things and live because I learned a whole bag of tricks: how to cheat at cards, how to talk my way out of a sticky situation, how to work my way around people trying to use their powers on me. These are the skills that are invaluable as long as you don't have special powers of your own to keep you alive, and I'm here to share some of them."

Atton nodded at a random student. "Talk to me," he said. "Who are you? What situation are you facing? What are you hoping to get out of this class? That kind of thing. Introductions are useful here, because a technique is only helpful if it's tailored to your actual situation."

First Aid for Fandom | Thursday, period 1

[sharp_man]

"Good morning," Hannibal said, nodding to the students. "This is the class on first aid for Fandom; if you aren't in the right place, you may leave, but you might want to remain regardless." He waved to a table off to the side. "There are coffee, tea, and pastries."

He smiled. "Which might be considered their own sort of first aid, knowing the reliance people often place on mild stimulants such as caffeine and sugar."

He was drinking coffee himself, as it happened. "For those of you who may not know me, I am Doctor Hannibal Lecter. I generally teach cooking or food-related classes, but I thought I would take a slight detour this semester, since this is a subject many people sorely need."

Pun fully intended, naturally.

"If you are wondering, I am in fact a medical doctor as well as a PhD. I received my doctorate from Paris Descartes, and completed my internship and recertification at Johns Hopkins as a trauma surgeon." Because high school students here absolutely cared about his credentials.

"We will be covering any number of first aid procedures and practices, but as today is traditionally for introductions, please," he gestured to them, "introduce yourselves by name, let me know what sort of place you're coming from, and tell us all what sort of experience you have in healing or medicine and what you would hope to encounter in this class. And please, all of you, feel free to rearrange your chairs and desks in any way you like, sit on the floor, or walk about, as you please."

The Island Hates You (Yes, You), Thursday Period 2

[wrongkindofsith]

Class was in the danger shop and lucky for everyone, Cara understood the controls. Because Magnus? Magnus botched quite a few skill checks there.

Oops.

"Hello, my name is Magnus Burnsides. Fighter. Sometimes rogue," he announced cheerfully before looking at his teachin' buddy.

"Cara," Cara said from her place next to a large covered box that was shaking and making hissing noises. Probably nothing to worry about there. "And the island hates you."

It was a class name and a statement of fact, handy!

Magnus honestly looked like he wan't to dispute that, but a glance at the hissing box stopped him. "Yeeeeeah. It kinda does. Sorry, kids. But. Buuuuut, we're here to teach you how to kick it's ass!"

Or to have fun watching them try. Look one of their teachers was earnest and the other was Cara, this was all going to end in tears at some point. Probably sooner rather than later. "Normally this is where introductions come in, but first an example." A pointed example. A pointed, toothy example.

Okay, it was a box of gremlins. Three guesses whose idea this had been.

Sorry, kids.

Magnus was already hauling his shield forward and--why yes, yes there was a tiny little gremlin on it to show he had fought these little motherfuckers before. Possibly in the battle to get them into the box. He was soooo lucky he had a high AC. "Let's do this."

With the kind of cheerful security that came with only being successfully bit when you weren't wearing head to toe leathers and gloves, Cara tipped the box over towards the class, releasing the gremlins.