fandomhigh | Spy Games, Monday, 6/8, Period 5

Someone who was observant well beyond the bounds of the human norm might notice that Sarah had a few new-ish-to-the-classroom accessories today -- chunky diamond stud earrings in place of her usual hoops, and a watch that looked almost mannish on her delicate wrist. But for the most part, she looked entirely normal in her blouse and jeans, if on the cheerful end of the spectrum for her.

"Good afternoon," she said, once the students seemed to be there. "Today we're talking about tools that spies use for surveillance and communication -- listening bugs, but also things agents can wear on their person to keep in touch with base without using normal phone systems."

She held up a disk about the size of a thick quarter. "This is a standard modern bug. It's designed so it adheres to the bottom of any piece of furniture you want; it can also be mounted inside a phone to record conversations. It'll transmit via radio frequencies." She went on to give the technical specs of the bug, including the range of the microphone, how long it would last and the quality of the sounds it transmitted.

"If you're an agent and you go out in the field, you'll probably be miked. Right now, I'm wearing send/receive transmitters in my earrings and my watch, and I've seen them in shoes, bracelets, bras, pendants ... anything that a person can wear without arousing suspicion. Some watches even have full Internet access built in for quickly looking up information."

"For your activity today, I've brought a few toys. None of this is the highest-tech stuff on the market; these are products made for and marketed to civilians. But they should still keep you busy for the rest of the class period. I'm around if you have questions."

[OOC: Please assume the toys on the tables have brochures near them explaining what they are and how they work. Thanks!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I told her to just hold the thought in her mind, that she didn't need to throw it like a softball. Hopefully, that will help."

< There was an incident. > Emma picked up one of the spy toys, turning it over idly in her hands for something to do. < I discovered a new trick at very much the wrong time, and another party took offense. >

Flash of anger down the link. *Who hurt you?* Karla asked. She could read between the lines, having not-said enough things herself. She didn't necessarily know people very well, but she knew hurt. And she knew nonchalance that covered that hurt.

< Leave it, > Emma replied shortly. < It's not important. I've expanded my repertoire, and that's all that matters. >

Perfecting her powers was why Emma was here. Not friends, not boys, not anything else. Power.

Edited 2009-06-09 02:12 (UTC)

*That's not true,* Karla denied flatly. *Someone hurt you. That is unacceptable.* She held up a hand to forestall Emma's protest. *You are my friend. I'll drop this for now. It is your injury and your right. But I won't forget it. I won't let people I care about be hurt here, too.*

She stood up, wanting to hug Emma, but not willing to push it.

"It's fine, Karla," Emma repeated quietly. "It was a misunderstanding, that's all. I will take care of it."

She thought Jack understood what she was. She was wrong.

< On a happier note, guess who figured out how to manipulate the nervous system, > she continued, wriggling her fingers at the other girl. < Well, in theory, at least. I have no idea how to do it again, since the first time was an accident. > And she was hardly going to go around kissing people to try and do it again.

Karla was torn. On the one hand, she wanted to make Emma tell her who had hurt her, so she could hunt down the son of a whoring bitch and show him exactly why one should not piss off a Black Widow-Healer-Queen. The people who know how to put you back together know precisely how to take you apart.

On the other, she was horrified by the thought of forcing Emma to do anything. Karla had been on the other side enough to understand the Don't Want to Talk About It vibe. Also, Emma was a woman grown, or nearly so, and could make her own decisions. And she'd said she could take care of it. To doubt that would be a grave insult to her friend.

So she gritted her teeth and backed off. "Just make it good," she said.

*Perhaps we can figure out how to reproduce it,* she sent. *My Craft books might have something.* Emma would be able to tell Karla was still angry at whomever, but she was leashing her temper.

Emma replied with a pulse of appreciation and affection, while theoretically keeping her attention on Ms. Walker's props. "I always make it good, darling," she practically purred as she gave Karla a real smile. "No worries."

"And if you need help, and you don't call me, I'm feeding you pickleberries by the bushelful," Karla muttered, grumpyfacing.

"Scout's honor," she drawled. "If anyone needs flaying, I'll call you. If only because then you can bring popcorn and we can take turns."

"And good wine. Besides, if we're flaying someone, it's an excellent opportunity to practice my nonexistent tanning skills. Would you prefer a cloak or a nice pair of boots?" Karla asked, grinning a bit.

Spy Games, Monday, 6/8, Period 5

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