fandomhigh | How To Avoid Misadventure, Monday, Period 4

"Hopefully, after this last week, you have all learned a very important lesson," Morrigan began, a smirk hovering on her lips. "Going off and exploring in a strange area without proper information is very very stupid."

Students in the class who were still sort of ashen? She's looking at you.

"Incredibly stupid," Alistair agreed. He felt all kinds of put out that he was agreeing with Morrigan, but there it was. "You may think you're doing good, but the truth is often more complicated than you're ready for. We showed you darkspawn several classes ago. Did you know that being scratched by one can pass on a taint far deadlier than the one you faced today?"

He wasn't so sure when he'd wound up being responsible about anything. Maker, if the clerics saw him now.

Probably sometime after he'd willingly ingested the taint. Morrigan would never understand the Wardens.

"The art of writing was not invented just so dusty old clerics could impress each other with the length of their sermons," Morrigan continued. "Tomes exist which document the oldest and most sacred of truths, and you would do well to learn about where you are, or where you are going, before you do it."

"This is our chief lesson in this series of classes," Alistair continued smoothly. "To avoid misadventure, you must be prepared. To be prepared, you must be informed. And so what we ask of you today is to inform yourselves of threats past and present, that you feel may affect you. You can do that by fetching books from your own rooms or the library, or..." He swept his arm across the gathered... computers, and completely ruined his whole noble lecturer thing by going, "...or use these clunky things. I have no idea what you'd use them for, but, you know." Beat. "Maybe give them a shake and information will fall out...? I think they're magical, or something like it."

"I still say they house demons," Morrigan deadpanned. "No proper spirit makes noises like those boxes."

"Can't be," Alistair said, staring at the computers now. "I've tried to cleanse them of magic before, but they didn't give as much as a squeak..."

...Yeah, maybe it was time to get to work now, students.

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"Meanest mean roommate," Karla said with a pout. She tried to sniffle. "Teasing me with promises of lunch..."

Gabrielle let her mouth drop open and feigned a hurt look. "Karla, I'm -- I don't know what to say!" she exclaimed, putting just a touch of a quiver into her lower lip. "What can I do to make it up for you? Half of a roasted animal of some kind? And chocolate mousse?"

"Well..." Karla said, pretending to give that some consideration. "I guess that could work. So long as there are no jalapeños involves."

Gabrielle clasped her hands and gave Karla an impossibly wide-eyed, pleading look. "Just tell me that it means there's a chance that someday, maybe, you just might consider forgiving me?"

Karla's own look was turning rather tragic. "I...I cannot make any promises, my sweet Gabrielle. You wounded me to the quick! But I...I shall try."

If only her arms weren't full of books! She would have placed her wrist to her forehead and swooned.

. . . Gabrielle really should get around to gathering up the last of her books, shouldn't she?

Actually, now was a good time to do that, since it meant she could drop back to her knees and look contrite and sort of grovelly.

"If the chance of earning your pardon is all I have," she replied, her voice starting to crack a little from the urge to laugh, "then I'll cling to it for as long as I have the strength."

Karla had tears in her eyes! Tears!

...Holding back laugher was hard, okay?

"No, please don't kneel to me, fair roommate of mine!" Karla proclaimed, offering a hand to help Gabs up. "I do not deserve your abasement. Please, rise and speak to me as equals!"

Gabrielle piled the last of the books into a stack and popped back up to her feet, then half-curtsied to Karla. "Oh, okay then," she agreed cheerfully -- but through laughter now. Then, deviously, she asked, "You didn't happen to believe me for just a second there about the salad, did you?"

"Maaaaaybe a second," Karla said. "Just because it would be funny?"

And would be something that Karla herself would do.

On purpose, though, Karla?

"Oh, good," Gabrielle decided. "I was hoping I could sell that."

She didn't literally pat herself on the back, but she looked like she might have been about to.

How To Avoid Misadventure, Monday, Period 4

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