Reno of the Turks (
raspberryturk) wrote in
fandomhigh2010-09-28 09:12 am
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Unconventional Tactics, Tuesday, Period 2
"Yo, rookies!" Reno leaned back against his desk today, arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed the students heading into the classroom. No Danger Shop again, but knowing Reno, he was probably saving all of the good stuff for later in the semester.
Or else too lazy to muck about with programming this early in the morning. One of those.
"Today, we're gonna cover one of them things that all of the reserves groups have probably drilled into you good by now if you're a member, but we're gonna expand on it a bit, yo." He smirked faintly. "I know they got their little phone number exchange goin' on, and I'm gonna even agree, it's a damn good idea." Which had nothing to do with the fact that he was one of the founding members of the original group. Really.
"But, really, it's just scratchin' the surface. How many telepaths do we got on this island? And I'm willin' to bet that when all Hell's breakin' loose, they ain't afraid to put that ability to use to keep themselves alive. The island's also got the radio station, which has been used on more'n one occasion to get the word out to folks in town that whatever's hit us, it's bigger than the harpies-and-piranhas crap that most of us are still tryin' to get used to. If you don't got a radio yet? Get one. If you don't got a cell phone yet? Get one. If you need help gettin' your paws on either? Talk to me, yo. Communication is a big damn deal in my old line of work. I'm good with that kinda thing."
Hell, if anybody were to keep a careful eye on the Turks out on the field, they'd probably notice that they reached for their phone systems about as often as they reached for their weapons.
"But communication around here don't just start and stop with whoever's on the island when the shit hits the fan," Reno continued. "I got a postcard from Paris marked nearly a hundred years ago because of the things that go down, here. Romeo sendin' me the postcard was the easy part. I'm thinkin' the post office just held onto the damn thing for a century, yo. But you try sendin' messages back in time. Or to alternate realities. Or to other broken worlds when you don't know what'll happen if you let that next rip swallow you up, too... You followin' me, here?"
Sometimes, Reno found himself wondering if students took his class so that they could nap while he lectured. And then he convinced himself that there were worse times for them to nap, so hey, if they needed the sleep, then good on him for being the one whose dulcet friggin' tones lulled them to it. Or something.
"In the past, the most reliable way we had to get messages to people off-island during a crisis just to send a messenger. And I don't like it. Too damn risky, even if we got some faint idea where or when they're gonna end up. This last big throw-down, they managed to get one phone call in to the people who were stuck in different realities, yo. I don't pretend to know how they managed to rig that up. I was too busy tradin' whatever crap was in my pockets for food and water to shove at people. But one call, in that case, was enough. Next time it might not be."
Reno's optimistic attitude, ladies and gentlemen.
"It's another discussion class today, ladies and chumps. I know we got enough bright little minds in this room to be able to toss together suggestions on how to get in touch with people when they go missing in the future, or, if you're lucky, to get in touch with the island if you're one of the unlucky schmucks that's gone missing. Get creative. Throw out whatever idea first comes to mind, magic, tech, what-the-shit-ever. And if there's somethin' you have to offer to help keep people in touch even when we're all on the island, bring it to the table, yo. Never know when your suggestion'll be the one that lets a person in mortal danger call for help."
[Open!]
Or else too lazy to muck about with programming this early in the morning. One of those.
"Today, we're gonna cover one of them things that all of the reserves groups have probably drilled into you good by now if you're a member, but we're gonna expand on it a bit, yo." He smirked faintly. "I know they got their little phone number exchange goin' on, and I'm gonna even agree, it's a damn good idea." Which had nothing to do with the fact that he was one of the founding members of the original group. Really.
"But, really, it's just scratchin' the surface. How many telepaths do we got on this island? And I'm willin' to bet that when all Hell's breakin' loose, they ain't afraid to put that ability to use to keep themselves alive. The island's also got the radio station, which has been used on more'n one occasion to get the word out to folks in town that whatever's hit us, it's bigger than the harpies-and-piranhas crap that most of us are still tryin' to get used to. If you don't got a radio yet? Get one. If you don't got a cell phone yet? Get one. If you need help gettin' your paws on either? Talk to me, yo. Communication is a big damn deal in my old line of work. I'm good with that kinda thing."
Hell, if anybody were to keep a careful eye on the Turks out on the field, they'd probably notice that they reached for their phone systems about as often as they reached for their weapons.
"But communication around here don't just start and stop with whoever's on the island when the shit hits the fan," Reno continued. "I got a postcard from Paris marked nearly a hundred years ago because of the things that go down, here. Romeo sendin' me the postcard was the easy part. I'm thinkin' the post office just held onto the damn thing for a century, yo. But you try sendin' messages back in time. Or to alternate realities. Or to other broken worlds when you don't know what'll happen if you let that next rip swallow you up, too... You followin' me, here?"
Sometimes, Reno found himself wondering if students took his class so that they could nap while he lectured. And then he convinced himself that there were worse times for them to nap, so hey, if they needed the sleep, then good on him for being the one whose dulcet friggin' tones lulled them to it. Or something.
"In the past, the most reliable way we had to get messages to people off-island during a crisis just to send a messenger. And I don't like it. Too damn risky, even if we got some faint idea where or when they're gonna end up. This last big throw-down, they managed to get one phone call in to the people who were stuck in different realities, yo. I don't pretend to know how they managed to rig that up. I was too busy tradin' whatever crap was in my pockets for food and water to shove at people. But one call, in that case, was enough. Next time it might not be."
Reno's optimistic attitude, ladies and gentlemen.
"It's another discussion class today, ladies and chumps. I know we got enough bright little minds in this room to be able to toss together suggestions on how to get in touch with people when they go missing in the future, or, if you're lucky, to get in touch with the island if you're one of the unlucky schmucks that's gone missing. Get creative. Throw out whatever idea first comes to mind, magic, tech, what-the-shit-ever. And if there's somethin' you have to offer to help keep people in touch even when we're all on the island, bring it to the table, yo. Never know when your suggestion'll be the one that lets a person in mortal danger call for help."
[Open!]
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Lecture
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Nonetheless, she was listening because that was easier than dealing Reno today. Sigh.
And she probably--should thank him, for the phone, sigh.
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Which meant she was here, but slumped over her desk, and only barely listening.
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She had a cell, of course, because it was still easier to send texts if the situation called for it.
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Which was probably a good thing, because he was doing his utmost best not to look a little out of it by the end of Reno's lecture.
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Discuss
It doesn't matter if your suggestion involves futuristic technology that nobody else has heard of yet, or carrier pigeon. If you have something to bring to the table, please do. You never know when it might help somebody who has been backed into a corner, someday.
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"G-ghosts," she said, carefully not looking at anyone. "S-some p-people c-can use ghosts to send messages to people."
Hell, she knew that if she was in trouble, Liz would do her best to make someone see or hear her.
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A grimace. "Not like that's easy."
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"And, well, I can contact people I know, you know, with magic." It worked the best if she knew who she was contacting on a more personal basis, but she could probably contact every person she had talked to in Fandom, unless they had some sort of magical protection, of course.
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The truth was, there were things she could have come up with, but-- having grown up used to the idea of just asking for or getting anything she wanted if she thought she needed it-- her sense of resourcefulness had a lot of room left to develop, and it just wasn't there yet.
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Except for the fact that she had yet to work out just how the pan-dimensionality of the phones on the island worked. And not for lack of dismantling them to poke at their insides.
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Talk to the TAs
Fascinating, I know.
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It was probably a good indication of how much Ino and Reno were rubbing off on her that she was actually able to consider saying it.
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He promises not to laugh, if that's the case.
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Hello? What hello?
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OOC
*shudder*
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