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art of adaptation

Art of Adaptation [Monday, Period Six]

Bond had decided to take advantage of the good weather, and was holding his class out by the main campfire today.

"Afternoon all, I'm afraid your teacher couldn't be here so he asked me to stand in for him instead. Robert Sterling, here's my card," Bond said once the class had finished arriving, offering around a stack of business cards for one R. Sterling, employee of Universal Exports, complete with contact details. "This class is called Art of Adaptation, and is all about developing the kind of skill set that will enable you to swim rather than sink when thrown into the deep end, regardless of what kind of end that is."

"Now, as I understand it, the first class is usually used for introductions, so I'd like you all to introduce yourself and tell the rest of the class a bit about yourself. Only you'll need to make it all up. Fake name, fake backstory, and keep making things up until you get caught out. Everyone feel free to pick apart each other's stories."

After they'd finished, Bond continued. "As those of you who've taken one of my classes know, and the rest to you have probably guessed, my name is not actually Robert Sterling, but Bond~~, James Bond~~. Despite his successful career, decent credit rating, and a few other traces left in the system, poor Mr Sterling does not actually exist. He does have one thing going for him however, which is verisimilitude. Any detail I might have provided about him can be backed up to a reasonable degree, if not a full, in-depth background search. Mostly because considerable time and effort has gone into providing him with a checkable history."

"Most of you will never need a Mr Sterling of your own, but even with improvised cover-stories the point about verisimilitude hold true. You want to be believed, keep things simple. Keep unnecessary detail to a minimum, and try not to make any claims you can't back up or fake in some way. The best way not to get caught in a lie is not to tell it in the first place."

"Now, on the subject of fake ID to go with a hypothetical cover. While I do not condone identity fraud in most circumstance, I will say this, the best forged identity documents aren't." He went on to explain the basics of identity theft and faking documentation.

"One final thing, Kyle and Rose here are my TAs." He nodded to them ~~if they were there~~. "I expect you to listen to them as if they were me."

[ooc: ~~wait for~~ ocd up!]

[Class Roster & Syllabus|Class Rules]

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In disguise!

Maladicta

Nobody Owens

Griffin O'Conner

Kyle Reese

Rose Hathaway

Helen Haras-Uquara

Pass notes, pay attention, try ringing the number on the business cards, you'll get Universal Exports voicemail service.

Bod, who didn't have Kate the cat with him today, looked closely over the business card, trying to see if he could spot anything off about it. He couldn't. Even if the person didn't exist, Bod sure would have thought they did with this kind of work and effort.

Try and be believable even though it's a faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake.

Feel free to try and poke holes in other people's stories.

"My name is Maladict. I'm from the country of Zlobenia, which doesn't appear to exist here," Maladicta said with only the faintest of smiles. "I was a lieutenant in the army back home and a decorated soldier. Is that all you need to know?"

"You're quite young to be a soldier, let alone a decorated one," Bond ~~who was so incredibly lucky right now his player was slack about putting him through a canon catch-up~~ pointed out, with a small grin of his own. "Are you being quite honest with me?"

~~Only when she's a ginger! ...and oily.~~

"Would you believe me if I said the war had gone on long enough to allow nearly anyone to join up?"

Such as, say, a troll or a vampire or an Igor?

"I might, but girls though?" Bond asked, even though M would've have his balls in her desk drawer by the end of the day if she'd ever heard him say that.

"It's a wonder what a hair cut and a pair of socks stuffed down your trousers can do, don't you think?"

A true sign of Bond's skill at poker was that he didn't burst out laughing at that. "I take your point," he said. "So why doesn't your country exist here?"

"First of all, no one has ever heard of it." Which wasn't true, but she didn't know about the werewolf and Vimes the Butcher being here. "My, aha, big brother told me that people come from different worlds here."

"True. Though most places that'd have people thinking you were mad, since as far as they know there's no such thing as other worlds."

Maladicta considered that for a moment. "I would need to know more about this place before I could give a country then. I wouldn't be very convincing if I couldn't give any details on the matter."

Bond nodded. "Knowing what you're talking about is always going to help your story."

Maladicta nodded back at him, considering her options. Then, because a good defense was sometimes an even better offense...

"What is it exactly that Mr. Sterling exports then?"

"What don't we export would be a better question," Bond said, because there'd been some bizarre covers he'd been handed. "Currently I'm involved in negotiating agreements for various lines of organic fair-trade coffee."

...see, that was just cruel.

Maladicta's grin was distinctly toothy. "Do go on, Mr. Sterling. I'm quite the connoisseur."

Bond in turn may have been smirking just a little. "Our most recent dealing have been with a co-op in Papua New Guinea, Arabica beans, naturally."

Bod knew how to lie but he was so used to Silas being able to see through his lies that he'd leveled off on trying to lie. This would be interesting.

"I'm George Wellington," he said, making his English accent a little crisper now, "from Blackpool which is in Lancashire. I recently attended Blackpool Sixth Form College but left after receiving failing marks in one of my classes."

All of that knowledge, save the name, came right from a brochure he'd read about Blackpool while traveling through Lancashire. It was as believable he could be, he thought.

Bond had heard less believable covers. "A Northerner? Lived there all your life, then?"

"No, sir," Bod said, shaking his head. "Just the last few years, actually. My parents moved us there when my father got a new job."

Bod tried to keep it simple so as not to get caught in too big a lie.

Bond nodded, that was actually a good cover for any accent slips. "What does he do?"

That one required a bit more thought than he would have liked. "He teaches physics. Particle physics."

Bod was going to silently thank Scarlett for telling him what her father did all those years ago.

"In Blackpool?"

"Yes. In Blackpool." Bod nodded, trying to seem sure of that. "He's quite intelligent."

"He'd have to be to teach particle physics? You happen to know where he got his degree?"

"My name's Derek," Kyle said, starting with the barest of details. "I'm an apprentice cook."

Bond grinned. "Any particular kind of cooking?"

Kyle shook his head. "I'm only an apprentice. They have me peeling potatoes most of the time."

"Sounds quite boring." Not that boring was a bad thing, it was less likely to stick in someone's memory.

"They'll let me do other stuff eventually. I have to prove I'm willing to do the hard work first."

"I'm Helen. I'm from a world not much different from this and I'm the youngest of three children."

Or Robert Sterling, but he'll probably try and sell you some exports.

Who hopefully came up with some good fake intros.

Where we reply with naked icons.

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Art of Adaptation [Monday, Period Six]

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Fake Introductions - AoA [01]

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Talk to Bond - AoA [01]

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