fandomhigh | Journalism Class - Thursday November 10

Journalism Class - Thursday November 10

Spider has blueprints of this hallway of the school across his desk and is absently scribbling on them as class assembles. The cat has made herself comfortable beneath one edge and is purring quietly.

The viewscreen behind him has a message scrawled across it.

Today is a good day to work on your homework. Some of you are having technical difficulties with the site and if that is the case, I can forward you the e-mail talking about the day's issue and you can tell me what looks interesting and I will provide the article for you here.

I will be available all class period for any questions.

If possible, I would like to talk to our photojournalism student after class.

((OOC: I'm alone in my office today and may not have much time to be on-line. I will do my best to answer any questions in a timely fashion, however.))

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After a completely unsuccessful attempt at anything useful in class yesterday, Chihaya sits down with his chosen article and attempts his homework, which he hopes to finish by the end of the day.

Chloe sits down and starts poking around for articles, trying to find a good one for her homework.

John comes into class and starts doing more research on the Times site.

Beka looked very sleepy when she headed into Journalism. She ~~and her player~~ needed to get more sleep. Since Angelus wasn't in the class for her to ~~snuggle~~ ~~play~~ ~~mess around~~ talk to, and everyone else looked busy, she sat down with her coffee and tried to focus on getting some work done.

Xander, having traded some of that weird extra-credit stuff for the Journalism homework, signs in and checks to make sure he has everything he needed to bring along for today's music class homework.

The frog in the plastic terrarium on the desk in front of him being the obvious 'yes' there.

"...That's a frog," Jake comments, pausing on his way to the coffee maker. "Why is there a frog?"

"Because the mommy frog and the daddy frog loved each other very very much," Xander replies, "And so they...uh. Did whatever it is that frogs do - I think it involves slimy eggs. But, you know, loving slime. And then there were baby frogs."

He puts both hands around the terrarium, as if covering the frog's nonexistent ears. "At least that's what I'm telling him, if he asks."

Jake stared at him. "...I haven't had coffee yet. Was that a jokey answer thing or is there a class on Frog somewhere in this school? Also, if you're really attached to ...him, you should really keep it out of the cat's range."

The cat, peering out from beneath Spider's plans with one face, attempts to look as though it has no interest in frogs at all.

Xander glares distrustfully at it.

"He's for a scavenger hunt in Music class," Xander says, grinning. "So that was a jokey answer and there is a class on Frog somewhere in this school. He's a floor wax and a dessert topping." He pulls the tank -- which is tightly snapped shut, but better safe than sorry -- protectively toward him. "Not literally, furball, so don't go getting any ideas," he adds, nodding towards the cat.

Jake got a strange expression on his face, mentally picturing chocolate cake á la frog. "Ahh. You're in music class? What do you play?"

Xander looks sheepish. "Uh. Air guitar? I'm not in the band class, just the music appreciation one."

"I'm sure you play air guitar really well," Jake assured him, grinning. "Your teacher seems pretty cool. Not that I've ever actually met him. Just, you know, school rumours."

"So far," Xander agrees. "Kinda hoping he's not gonna make us actually turn in the frogs, though. I'd miss the littl guy."

Angela comes to class and begins scouring the site for something to write about.

"Ah, yes. Homework. That's right."

Oops, Jessica thinks.

D'anna snaps her laptop shut and finishes off the last of her coffee. Thank the Gods for the classroom coffee machine. She looks dreadful - no make-up, no jewelry, no 'Thursdays are for Torture" emblazoned on her shirt - but she's cleaned up from last night's adventure and has worked quietly through out the class. She's ingored whatever frogs may have followed her, in hopes that they would either return to the basement or get eaten by the cat. Slinging her over-stuffed and oddly shaped rucksack over he shoulder and tucking her laptop under her arm, she approaches the professor's desk, "you wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, actually." Spider gave her a very faint frown. "I'm working on the project for the Journalism Final and I want to know if you'd be willing to take on the responsibility of taking photos for each article. I'm looking at two photos per students article, one easily taken here at the school, one possibly taken remotely. I want to make it as much like working with a staff photographer as possible, in that they'll have to schedule time when you'll be available. Is this something you think you can handle?"

D'anna set her rucksack down on the floor in front of Spider's desk as she considered his request. "I have a few questions first, sir. How many articles are you assigning per student? How many students are we talking, total? How long will we have to complete the assignment?" She gave him a calculating look, "lastly, if I agree to this, will I have to write an article as well as furnish photographic work for the other students?" It wasn't that she objected, in fact she figured it could be ~~fun~~ interesting, but she wanted to know exactly to what she was committing her time and resources.

"One article per student, twenty students, just over a month - in that order," Spider told her, amused. "The photographs would be your final project for the term. You would not be required to write an article yourself, although a line or two of commentary on each photo would be appreciated."

"So, forty photos, forty to eighty lines and coordinating with twenty people around my schedule in a month?" D'anna ticked off the days in her head, even with working with one student per day that still left her ten days to develop the photos and write up a caption log for them. D picked up her cumbersome rucksack, slung over a shoulder, and tilted her head to the side, "Yeah, I think I can do that."

Veronica skips the idea of working on homework, instead plotting a trip to town after classes.

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Journalism Class - Thursday November 10

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After Class

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