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201--Speech 2nd Period

"Ok, gang. I'm CJ. This term you will be learning the art of rhetoric as well as effective tools for public speaking. There's nothing like doing to get you into this, so prepare to take notes."

Pacing back and forth, she lectures for a few minutes.

"The essence of rhetoric, according to Aristotle, is finding and utilizing, in a given situation, the available means of persuasion. To do this, there are tools. Ethos, Pathos, and Logos. Get used to these words, you'll be hearing them a lot. Ethos pertains to the character of the speaker. Are you knowledgable? Trustworthy? A stuttering, stammering imbecile? Then there you go. Pathos is an appeal to the emotions of the audience. Reading your audience is key...in what ways can you use their emotions to your advantage? Logos is the logical appeal...facts, figures, common knowledge."

She sips her coffee and waits for them to catch up.

"These three are the backbone of what we will be doing in class. Now, to see where you're at...write me a speech. 3 to 5 minutes. Introducing yourself. Oughta be more interestinmg than the usual 'stand up and tell me your name' thing. If you need help, want to talk, are curious why D'Artangnen isn't included with the three...I'm here to teach you and I'm not psychic, so you have to ask. Ok, Go."
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301--InterComm 3rd period

"Alrighty then. This term's going to be a little different, I'm guessing, because you've been here for a few months already. I'm assuming you know each other, and if you don't, then shame on you.

How we communicate is key. In this class, the basis of our discussions will focus on the sender/message/receiver paradigm. This means that for every attempt to communicate, there are three phases that much be negotiated for said communication to happen. In order for accurate assimilation of a message, theseder and the reciever have to have the same modes of understanding.

Going easy on you, easing you in...please tell me one time when communication went wrong for you...the person who was receiving got the wrong message. Then we'll see if we can figure out what you should have done differently. Go.

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...

Maia signed in and thought about it for a moment. "Ok, I have one, on New Years, my friend came up to me and after I told her Happy News Years she kissed me and well, it wasn't like a friendly hi kind of kiss it was a hey lets go upstairs sort of kiss and well she actually said that but..anyway. So her boyfriend comes up and is all mad at me over the kiss and I told him that if he was giving her what she needed then she would not be coming to me for it. It, well it didn't go over very well needless to say.

Barbossa sat down and began writing his speech in his curiously neat calligraphy.

"I be Barbossa. I be a sophomore. Before I be comin' t' Fandom High, I be a cabin boy on a few ships o' wit' a certain manner o' reputation, especially t' anyone who be flyin' French or Spanish colors. Or who looked t' be sittin' a mite low in the water because of a certain presence o' shiny 'n heavy cargo, if ye be catchin' me meanin'. I be fifteen. I be pitched overboard, I be a hurricane survivor and I be able t' tell ye how t' navigate around the Bermuda triangle. I also be likin' rum, jam, apples 'n people humiliatin' themselves in public."

He looked down, reading it quietly to himself. Seemed to be about right, timewise.

Isabel sat down and listened to CJ speak. It was hard to focus, her mind kept drifting back to last night on the beach (http://www.livejournal.com/community/fandomtownies/520300.html). But she was in class for a reason, so she tried to focus and write her speech.

"I'm Isabel Evans and I'm from Roswell, New Mexico. Yes, the town that's famous for little green men. ~~But really we look just like everyone else.~~ I left Roswell because I was looking for something a little more normal. Think about it, what was your first reaction when I said Roswell? Did you automatically think 'little green men'? Try living with that your whole life. Of course I thought the normal I was going to find in Fandom would be a little more traditional, as opposed to "The purple dragon is the criminal justice professor's assistant." My world view is being expanded, and I think that's probably a very good thing."

Boone frowns, trying to gather his thoughts on a certain blond before he begins to speak. "Er, well, I went home over winter break. While I was there, I saw this girl who I haven't seen in a few months. She's, like, a childhood best friend." More than that, he doesn't say. "Other than when she want shopping with her dad's credit cards and her shallow friends, she was over my house for most of the time." Because she lives there. "But she's changed a lot, even over the last few months. She's always had this way of getting under my skin - she's kinda self-absorbed - and so, every time I saw her, I found some convenient excuse to be somewhere else. I acted like an ass, and I couldn't think of a single thing to say to her. It wasn't like that before." He pauses, trailing off.

Shep comes in and finds some space in the back where he can sprawl out. When the discussion comes round to him he finds that most of his miscommunications have come from bits of knowledge not being there when they needed to be (he is *so* well aware that Vala has the blonde streak now) as opposed to communication gaffes. All he can come up with is:

"This wasn't communication per se - it wasn't what I said that got me in trouble... but I once thought it would be funny to give one of my profs a small statue of the Cat Goddess Bast. She wasn't amused."

"That was you?" She stares at him, a mixture of annoyance and wonder on her face. This whole getting memories back thing was blindsiding her nearly every day. "Why exactly did you think it would be funny?"

"How was it before, Boone?"

"These friends...are they normally part of your speech community, Maia/ People you're comfortable speaking to like that?"

"Doing all right, Barbossa?"

"Isabel, any questions?"

Barbossa smiled broadly. "Jes' fine, Professor."

Shep swears internally. She was supposed to have amnesia, wasn't she? "Uh... 'cause I thought... you know... 'who takes old Egyptian threats seriously anymore? And you know... once you had the statue back, the curse would be broken and um... don't you have a cat? No, wait goldfish..." He knows he isn't making any sense. He needed to learn four very important letters if he was going to survive this class. S.T.F.U. This was twice now that he'd have been better off letting C.J. think she'd never met him before in her life.

"Yes they are part of my normal community but I don't usually speak to anyone like that." She said sitting back in her chair.

Gaping at him like he may well be an imbecile, she makes a mental checklist of what she knows about him, beginning with whatthefuckbear and ending with stammering dork.

"Shep?"

"Well, I used to be able to tell her things. I mean, yeah, she would go turn around and tell half the people I knew and a lot I didn't know, but she just had that way of making me trust her. But...I don't know. Over the last few months, a few certain friends of mine have pretty much made me realize how self-absorbed she is, and, when I got home, I couldn't help noticing these things."

He smiles as innocently as he can. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Are you some kind of special I should know about?"

Shep beams proudly, "Well, yes, my mom used to say -" and then he gets it. "No, wait. No. Not short-bus special if that's what you mean. Why?"

He's ready for this class to be over now.

For the semester.

He mumbles under his breath. "I don't supose you remember that you *asked* me to sign up for this class?"

"I did? Then that puts you in the same column as O'Neill. Thanks for that little reminder, Shep~~baby~~." She flashes him a mischevious half-smile as her shoulders shake with laughter. "So...back to missed messages. How did you feel when the message was misconstrued?"

"Same... column..." Shep isn't sure what that means, but he remembered O'Neill being asked to TA yesterday, so he hoped it didn't mean he was being propositioned. In any way, shape or form.

"Mixed messages... which one? By now we've had six others." Shep folds his arms on the desk and buries his face.

She waves her hands, "Ok,ok...let's do this. Who do you think you are talking to when you're talking to me? Close your eyes and tell me the woman you see as being your receiver."

"No ma'am, not at the moment." Isabel smiled as she looked at CJ and suddenly remembered who CJ was and the message (http://www.livejournal.com/users/izzyalienqueen/393.html?thread=12425#t12425)she had received on Friday. She did not blush, at least not too much.

There were so many ways this could go horribly awry. Like it hadn't already? His inner voice asked. Shep sat up and closed his eyes. "Your my Comm 301 prof. You were my Comm 201 prof. You were the queen of all England at the faire." He hopes that's enough. He doesn't want to say 'you're the one I walked home when you were too drunk to do it yourself' in front of the class. He's already dug his grave deeply enough in here, thankyouverymuch.

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