fandomhigh | Creative Problem Solving, Tuesday, period 3

Today, Parker was in black again. And looking very perky, outside a Danger Shop- created door.

“Something a little different from last week. There will not be cake. Sadly.”

Eliot tried not to facepalm in front of the students. This was going to be a Thing all semester, wasn't it. "Last week you all proved you're completely nuts," he said. "Except for Amy." STAIRS WERE A VALID LIFESTYLE CHOICE. "This week, we're going to see how you do getting out of a situation when you can't just leap off the side of a building."

Parker opened the door to reveal… a large storage closet. Paint buckets, a bookcase piled with tools of varying usefulness, and one small lit light-bulb were evident-- as was an air-duct with a small grate across it, just above head-height.

“We have enough closets for everybody. Or you can team up, and be locked in together. Object: get out of here before whoever put you in here comes back!”

"That's a simulated 'whoever'," Eliot noted. "We don't mean us." They weren't the bad guys in the class scenario. This time. "Once you're out, head for the room at the end of this hall." Eliot pointed to another closed, presumably locked door. "Where there will be something that isn't cake." You're welcome, Parker. "If you choose to team up, every person on the team has to make it, or you all fail."

“So don’t mess this up!... or stay in there just ‘cause it’s fun. I’m looking at some of you. You know who you are.” Or not.

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"Oh, lots of stuff," Rapunzel said bashfully. "I can reach things with it and yank 'em down from high places, and climb up and hang in it if I need to reach something high-up for a long time, and swing on it, and use it as a blanket...."

She paused, eyeing Eliot for a moment, and carefully added, "And it heals. So that's helpful."

Hey, he was a teacher, and he seemed very nice, and she was sure she could trust her teachers, right? Even the kind of ruffian-y ones.

Hey! Eliot was definitely more than "kind of" ruffian-y.

"It heals." Eliot rubbed his eyes. Sure. Why not. Magic hair that glows and heals and is seventy feet long. Of course. "Yeah. Yeah, that is definitely very helpful. Especially around here."

"Yup! I've cured my friend's like, weird sciencey gremlin-y fever, and I cured another friend's hangover," Rapunzel said, grinning. "Lots of opportunity around here. But yeah. It's pretty handy. S'why I don't cut it -- I mean, it's this kind of awesome asset, even if it's...a lot to carry around."

"You kidding? I have trouble keeping mine in order and it's barely one foot." Eliot shook his head. "'A lot to carry around.'" He was impressed she could walk. "Suppose you've had time to get used to that, though."

"Sixteen years, give or take," Rapunzel giggled, nodding. "It's not so bad. I'd love to keep my hair as short as yours, though, 'cause it doesn't look too hard to maintain."

Shows what you know, Rapunzel.

There weren't a lot of people in Eliot's life who'd call his current hair 'short'. He smiled and shook his head. "It ain't too bad." If it were, he would have it cut. "You ever try puttin' all that up?"

Admittedly, he wasn't sure how that would work. Maybe a fancy braid. A whole lot of really fancy braid.

Creative Problem Solving, Tuesday, period 3

Re: At the End of the Hall

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Re: At the End of the Hall