fandomhigh | Detention, 02/11

The Danger Room is set up to look like an ordinary classroom today, with slightly squeaky desks arranged in a semicircle, alphabets of many nations bordering the walls, and a flag hanging above the blackboard at the front of the room. The air smells, although not unpleasantly, of chalkdust and stale cafeteria food. In a room off to the side that resembles a formal Victorian dining room, there are a table, chairs and a sideboard from which students will take their lunch, though no food is visible at first.

The names of the students with detention are written on the chalkboard in Dream's flowing hand. He crosses each name off as the student enters:

~~John Crichton~~
~~Hamlet Dane, Jr.~~
Lily Evans
~~Janet Fraiser~~
Yuffie Kisagari
~~Nadia Santos~~
Kristy Thomas

Dream stands before the assembled students in his formal robes.

"Hello. I trust you all know why you are here.

I have been asked to furnish activities, and have done so. Likewise your lunch will be provided. Should all go well, I anticipate releasing you well in time for your evening meal. Should all not go well, you may learn what imprisonment truly is."

"Now, sign in and begin your assigned activities."

At 12:30 p.m. FHT, Dream briefly enters the lunchroom. When he leaves, a banquet has been arranged. Students may now eat, should they want to.

At 7 p.m. FHT, he rouses the sleepers and sends all of the students out the door.

[OOC note: Dream-mun has left the building for the night. I'll try to wrap these threads tomorrow. Also, minimal/handwaved participation on some activities is fine for those of you who might sign in late.]

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"Because she's mean? Or it might've been that I pretended I was her son," John admits, "after pretending I was British the day before."

Now Nadia's just confused, instead of apalled at the injustice of being turned into an animal. "You were pretending to be your teacher's son?"

Americans are very, very strange people.

"Yeah," John says, shrugging. He eats a few of his nachos. "It wasn't one of my better decisions, trust me. I think I was trying to see how far I could push her."

"Which teacher?" Nadia asks, so she can stay away from whoever it is.

"Professor Skeeter," John says. "Teaches journalism and does the radio. Hard to miss."

"Ohhh. I met her the second day for a couple minutes. She seems kinda . . . weird."

"Yeah, she knows her stuff, I have to admit," John says, shrugging, "but say one thing she doesn't like and pling! You're an animal or a bucket or some pudding."

Nadia shook her head. "That seems a little bit strange, doesn't it? That she turns students into . . . other things? I thought there were laws about how people could be punished."

"Well, it doesn't hurt," John says, "and she turns me back at the end of each class period and she's never been malicious about it. Just her way of punishing students I guess."

"Still, weird. You mean she's turned you into stuff more than once?"

"Three animals so far," John says. "Marmoset, elephant and a meerkat."

Nadia tried to picture John as an elephant and choked on a giggle. "And you still didn't learn your lesson?"

"I'm hard headed," John says with a laugh. "And, since we're detention buddies, ask Aeryn or Rory Gilmore about pictures. They've got a few shots of me as an elephant or a meerkat."

"I'll have to do that." Nadia took a long sip of her soda. "How long do you think we'll have to be here?'

"Hm," John says because he's not honestly sure. "Few more hours maybe? Till we learn our lesson? It hasn't been so bad so far. I guess if we behave and do the assignments the time will pass quicker. Maybe?"

"I hope so." Nadia shrugged. "I think I finished the second assignment too quickly."

"Yeah, me too." John looks around the room. "Be kinda bad to just be bored for a long time. Maybe we can stretch out lunch?"

Nadia started taking smaller bites. "That sounds like a plan to me."

Detention, 02/11

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