Laying Low 2.0, Thursday, Period 2

[uncertain_dume]

Once again, class was being held in the Danger Shop. Kanan had gone poking around for an interesting simulation, and the best he'd managed to find this week was some approximation of a school dance. Complete with all the glitter.

All. The. Glitter.

So, shrugging, he'd decided to roll with it.

"This week, we're going to touch on identity," he said, launching into his lecture and ignoring the specks of light being thrown by the disco ball above. "Because sometimes, if you're laying low, the first thing you're going to have to lose is going to be... well... you."

And a shrug. Everyone had been in his class last semester. He figured after that lesson taught by Caleb, they probably could guess at how he'd come to that conclusion.

"So today, we're going to mingle. To try to fit in at some kind of school reunion event while being somebody not ourselves. Last term I had you guys think about your tells, about things that give you away as you right out of the gate. I want you to keep those in mind while you mingle today, and to keep as much about yourselves under wraps as you possibly can in the process. Whether that involves coming up with a new identity is up to you, but remember that if you go that route, you're going to have to keep your story straight. So, keep it simple. Random guests are going to be on the lookout for each of you, and if they catch you slipping up in your story they'll kill you." He grinned and shrugged. "Which will make it an interesting party, at least."

He jerked a thumb toward the punch bowl. It wasn't spiked. It was going to stay that way.

"I'll be over there chaperoning. Probably badly, if you all end up dead. If one of the simulated guests catches you, that far wall is your penalty box. Wait a minute, and then head back out there to try again. The longer you can go without someone figuring out who you are, the better. It might take more than one try."

[OOC: Open!]

Swashbuckling!, Thursday

[doesnotkneel]

"I cut off a man's nose once."

That was certainly a way to greet the class - especially while Edward was holding a cutlass firmly in hand. "We were raiding a Spanish brig. Not for gold this time, but because we'd lost a cook, and a decent crew needs a decent cook."

He nodded towards the stack of wooden would-be cutlasses laying in a pile on the deck of the Jackdaw, silently urging them to go pick one up. "A well-fed man is a happy man, and a happy man won't mutiny, aye? So we needed that cook. We battered the brig with our cannons until we came 'longside. It wasn't a huge crew, and they weren't great fighters. I killed the first with a blow to the head."

He demonstrated bringing the cutlass down.

"Then I turn about and there's this massive man coming at me, but my cutlass is stuck." ... Thanks for the details, Edward. "I whirled about and struck 'im with these--" He flicked his wrist, exposing a small blade, which quickly slid back into its holder. "--and gone was his nose."

He shifted his hips, settling his legs into a ready stance, his cutlass outstretched. None of the arm-behind-his-back flourishing of the bloody navy, of course. He was a pirate after all. "Soon enough, we had sunk the ship. We gathered the surviving crew on the deck and asked for the crew."

A pause. "And lo and behold, someone cries, 'Beer I bam.'"

He flashed the class a quick grin. "Knowing the blade's important. Follow my lead, lads and all the rest," he said. "But be careful whose nose you cut off, aye?"

Self-Care for Optimal Stabbing, Thursday, Period 3

[wrongkindofsith]

Anyone who might have taken a class with Magnus and Cara before wouldn't be surprised by the fact that there were CapriSun and clementines waiting for them.

Because Magnus there was hella predictable like that.

"Today we're gonna talk about keeping your body fueled!" Magnus said, carefully trying to stab the juice pouch with that flimsy straw as he spoke.
Cara pretended not to notice Magnus's struggles with the straw. "Because you can't fight if you faint from hunger," she said. "So if you don't keep an eye on eating and drinking, you've already done have the work for your enemy."

It was probably for the best since Magnus was just stabbing right on through that pouch. Like it was a vampire.

He sighed and abandoned the fruit juice for now. "Healthy snacks are the best, but no one'll say anything if you're looking for a Little Debbie. I like the classic oatmeal pie, personally."

Magnus totally looked at Cara expectantly at that.

Cara sighed. "I like nutcakes," she said. Because her girlfriend got them for her, "You should also remember to eat actual meals. And probably learn to cook, in case you have to live on your own efforts."

Don't make Cara's mistakes, kids.

"Join a super secret clandestine organization that'll feed you for free!" Yes, make Magnus' mistakes.

Magnus, no. "Don't do that."

But they were fuuuun!

"We've got this book on nutrition from the 60s, but you could just grab some snacks if you want," Magnus said like the respectable teacher he was.

"The book is really dumb," Cara said, not even trying to sound respectable. "Just go for the snacks."