fandomhigh | Horror 101, Monday

"I think you've all had your fair share of horror last week," Mitchell announced, "But I'm fairly sure half your teachers are going to give you movie classes now, so I thought I'd try and get creative."

Fear, class. Fear.

"That's why we've gathered in the Danger Shop today," he continued. "I thought it would be nice for some hands-on practice. See, we've got all of these fears we're working on and working with, but many of them, as I've said, come down to what we fear in ourselves."

A pause.

"These things tend to start in childhood," he said, "And work their way up. So today, we are going to be regressing."

He opened the door behind him and revealed--

"Today, you're going to Eurodisney!" A pause. "I'll be expecting at least two of you to get into a fight," he said, solemnly. "If you do, use something padded."

A beat, in case they thought he'd completely lost it-- "If you need me this week, I'll be spending most of it in Bristol. So use the phone."

And that would appear to be it.

[[ ~~wait for the~~ ocd up! have at! ]]

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"Keeping an eye on everything. Trying to catch a few of you suicidal lot by the scruff of your necks," he said, shrugging. "The fog couldn't exactly bother me."

Ah, being dead, how you could come in handy in the strangest ways.

"I'm stunned," Jack said dryly. (Though how you could smoke without breathing was, he supposed, a question for the ages.) "I'm grateful none of the suicidal ones actually succeeded as far as I can tell."

Roughly up the same alley as smoking without doing up lung cancer, really. Nothing gets processed into nutrients, or something like that - okay, Mitchell wasn't a biology professor.

"Heard some of them landed in the clinic," Mitchell noted. "Close enough."

"Not really," Jack dissented. "Not that it's fun, but clinic means not dead. Not dead is a miracle, times a few dozen."

... he was a cheerful one today.

"If you're going to get all glass half-full about it," said Mitchell, but he didn't sound like he particularly minded.

"That's one of my skills, always looking on the sunny side."

"It's that blinding optimism that'll suit you well later in life."

"And here I thought I was going to have to get by on my looks."

... Jack was talking nonsense, but it was better than thinking about monsters and mad scientists.

Mitchell tilted his head at him. "Eh," he judged, "Those'll last you about fifteen years?" Squint. "Maybe twenty."

"But by the time I'm 40, it'll all be over?" Jack checked. "Thanks. I'll go cry myself to sleep now."

"Depends on how quickly that baby fat of yours burns through," Mitchell said, grinning. "Although who knows - wrinkles might be a bit of a renaissance."

"I'll look learned," Jack decided with a tiny pout. "Possibly even seasoned."

Horror 101, Monday

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