fandomhigh | Creative Problem Solving, Tuesday, period 3

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Creative Problem Solving, Tuesday, period 3

The Danger Shop today was programmed to look like the courtyard in front of a large, swanky mansion, with four sets of elegant French doors closed on what looked like quite the elegant gala going on inside. Eliot stood with his arms crossed next to a fountain in the middle of the courtyard, nodding to the students as they came in.

Parker was wearing a cocktail dress. That was her only apparent concession to the venue; her hair wasn’t done, she wasn’t wearing jewelry. Or make-up. Or shoes.

“Today instead of busting out? You’re busting in. Although, you know, if you want to be subtle, you can do that too.”

"Behind us is the party of the year. Full of rich, influential people, good music, and some of the finest damn fondue you're gonna get outside of southern Europe." If Eliot did say so himself. "To get in, you gotta get past one of these four people." He hit a button and a simulated doorman appeared in front of each of the french doors. Two looked just like him, only in different outfits. Two looked just like Parker.

"How you do that is up to you. You could dress up and try to look all fancy and talk your way in. You could dress down an' tell 'em you're staff and talk your way in. You could distract 'em and sneak your way in. You could try fighting 'em." He smiled. "That's usually my favorite, but not usually for gettin' in."

Parker rolled her eyes at that. “Anyway, there are security guys around. I won’t say how many. So if you do decide to start a fight, it probably won’t finish up one-on-one. Have an exit plan!” She shook a finger at them. “Remember! Only people who can’t run go to jail for assault with a deadly weapon!”

Eliot frowned. "That is not a saying." Just so the kids understood that. "Parker just made that up."

Which wasn't saying it wasn't true.

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Kathy had her eye on two of the sims, one of which was this guy. Rather than approaching him right away, she lingered back and kept an eye on how he interacted with other guests. Was he attracted to their teacher specifically, or would anything in a skirt do?

If the way the sim's eyes roved over Kathy's outfit and lingered on her legs was any indication, it was a fair bet he wasn't just interested in Parker, no.

She could do this she could do this she could totally do this--

Dammit! This was probably going to involve flirting! Why hadn't she realized that sooner? Why didn't this school teach some kind of semester-long flirting seminar so she could have learned to do that already?

Okay, okay, he was definitely checking her out. She didn't need to make her move yet. She could...smile! Yes! Definitely smile!

But, like, a little. Not a happy grin or whatever. Some kind of 'look how cool I am which is a lot' smile. A kind of...Irene smile. Yeah.

...That was not an Irene smile.

Oh honey. He wasn't looking at your smile.

"Well ain't you just prettier'n a greased up pig on a Sunday in August," the sim said. Maybe. It was hard to tell. That accent was almost completely indecipherable.

The muttered "dammit, Parker" from the actual teacher some distance away, on the other hand, was perfectly clear.

Well, on the one hand, yay for not paying attention to the smile. On the other hand, UGH GUYS LIKE THIS. On the other-other hand, yay for sneaking in.

"...Thank you?" Kathy said, assuming that whatever he'd said was meant to be complimentary. Probably. "And you're just as hot as...the asphalt on Hollywood Boulevard when the smog is heavy and it hurts to breathe."

OH GOD WHO LET HER DO THIS? Who let her think it was a good idea?

That wasn't stopping her from dropping him a wink and sliding one foot down the back of her leg. Was that sexy? SHE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW.

The sim pulled a corncob pipe from his jacket and stuck it in his mouth. "Nah what's a pretty li'l filly like you doin' at a hootenanny like this?"

Eliot was going to have very strong words with Parker about this later.

Between this guy and Lady Gaga, Kathy wasn't sure either of her teachers knew how to program the sims to speak a real language. Was this like that video game, where they all just spoke nonsense syllables? Was he speaking Simlish?

"Just looking for a good time," she said, trying to sound low and breathy and possibly just sounding asthmatic. "Girls just wanna have fun, right?"

AWW YEAH, QUOTING 80S SONGS. YOU HEARTBREAKER, YOU.

Really, it was mostly that Parker was terrible with accents.

"Ah tell ya what, darlin', this shindig'll be a real humdinger with a gal like you in there." His eyes had yet to drift above her shoulders. "'Course, maht be even more fun if'n we make our own ennertainmint out heah."

Even the sim wasn't entirely sure what sort of sourtherner he was supposed to be, any more.

Maybe his accent was taking a roadtrip?

"Daddy wants me to go in and smile all pretty-like." Batting her lashes was an advanced level move; she was just going to smile again. Not that this guy was noticing that, either. Which was certainly the first and possibly the only time in Kathy's life where she was grateful for it. "But maybe after I've spent some time in there with those stuffed shirts, I can come out and see the kind of fun a real man can get up to."

Yeah, she was speaking entirely in cliches now. But it wasn't like this guy was interested in her scintillating personality or anything!

Not even remotely. "Well hey-ell darlin'! I'll go in an' talk to your papa for ya!"

Panic! Panic panic panic! Fortunately, this scenario she knew how to cover. She just imagined the reaction if this guy went and talked to her real dad and the excuses just came flying. "You don't want to do that, trust me," Kathy said, laying a hand on his arm and sliding it up his sleeve. "I'm Daddy's little girl, don't you know. He won't like hearing that I want to ditch this lame party to spend time with a handsome guy like you."

WAS THERE SERIOUSLY ANYONE THIS WOULD WORK ON? ANYONE? AT ALL?

"You just give me about twenty minutes to go and make nice and then we can go off and do...whatever we want."

For example, Kathy wanted to 'run away and never see this sim again as long as she lived.'

"Ya sure, darlin'?" The sim tore his eyes off Kathy's . . . dress long enough to look back through the doors at the party. "Ah c'n be real persuasive."

No. No he couldn't.

Sorry, sir, my dad doesn't speak...mumble-drawl?

"Positive," Kathy assured him. "Besides. It'll give you a chance to miss me."

Sure. That sounded good. Why not?

"Well aincha just as sweet as mint julep." The sim stepped aside. "Get that sweet ass in there, then, honey!"

Kathy paused a moment more, eye twitching and fist clenching. She could totally take this guy out, she really could. She could have him down on his ass before he even saw her move...

But that wasn't the point. Nope, she was supposed to get into the party. Which she could do. By not hauling off and punching this guy in the chin. Yup. Gonna just swallow down that temper and feminism and walk into the party.

"Oh, wait," she cooed. "Give me your cellphone, handsome? I want to give you my number in case I have trouble finding you later."

She was gonna text-to-donate something like a hundred bucks to different charities.

"An' aincha clever just as well as smaht!" The sim patted down his jacket pockets. "Where'n tarnation did ah put that phone? Hang on now justa tic, ah got it heah somewheah. . . ."

"Yep," Kathy said, her smile more like a grimace now. "Clever and smart, that's me."

When the sim couldn't find his phone after thirty seconds of searching, Kathy just waved it away. "Look, my dad's expecting me. I'll just make sure to look for you extra hard or something. Okay? See ya."

It was more a stiff-legged march rather than a seductive stroll as Kathy made her way past the sim towards the party.

"You betcha."

What?

The sim saluted with his corncob pipe, reaching out to give Kathy a little goose as she went by.

Yeah, see, Kathy had kinda expected this. She hadn't grown up in LA her whole life and somehow miss out on the different flavors of asshole who populated it. So as soon as she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, she was whirling around to stop him.

Her own hand darted out to snatch his wrist in mid-air before he had a chance to touch her and she yanked on it, hard, pulling him forward and off-balance. That was followed by a knee to his gut as he stumbled forward, and then she was spinning back out of the way to deliver an elbow to the back of his head as he fell.

She was a blur of motion, easily three times faster than most people could dream of moving. The tiny heels she wore never so much as wavered beneath her, the insane agility her weird mutation (or whatever) had granted her making them as sturdy as regular sneakers. They did, however, make for an excellent point--ha ha--when she pressed one against the back of his neck.

"Let me give you a few pointers," she said. "Mind your manners and treat women with respect, honey. Because the next time you go to grab someone's ass, they might not be as ladylike as I am and really beat your ass. Got it?"

She was tempted to kick him once more, but she felt she'd made her point. And Banzai didn't go for gratuitous violence when she could help it. "Call your mother and tell her how you talk to women. See what she thinks about it. Now you stay as you are and think about this, you hear me?"

And with that, Kathy stepped over the sim's prone and groaning form and swept into the party, head high.

Damn, that felt good.

It was very, very strange watching a clone of himself get his ass kicked by a tiny teenager.

Eliot kind of hoped the Danger Shop had recorded that, anyway.

"Nicely done," he said, as the sim glitched out and vanished before resetting.

Hey now! Kathy was a perfectly respectable 5'7! That was pretty tall for a girl!

...But, yeah, okay, the rest of her was pretty tiny, true.

"I made it into the party," Kathy challenged, as if Eliot had just accused her, rather than complimenting her. "Twice."

Beat.

"I mean, thank you."

Yeah, well, Eliot was 5'8" and probably weighed twice what Kathy did. So: tiny.

He raised his hands in surrender. "You won't get any guff from me," he said. "Where'd you learn to take a guy out like that?"

She was so fast!

Easily twice what she did. Which people would be hard-pressed to believe if they saw her eating.

"I've taken a few fighting classes here and I had my roommates show me a few tricks," Kathy hedged. Because there was all the fighting in Baltimore and those powers of hers. Neither were exactly secret? But it seemed like a good time to play things a little close to the chest. "I usually end up using a lot of gymnastics moves, though. You'd be surprised at how useful a routine can be when you focus the moves on bringing someone down."

Eliot snorted softly. "I've been teachin' Parker moves for years," he said. "She's basically gymnast herself. Ain't that surprisin'."

Kathy knew there was a reason Parker was one of her favorite teachers!

"Okay, well, maybe you don't be surprised but lots of other people would be." The corners of her mouth turned ever-so-slightly downwards. "I catch a lot of flack for that. Using gymnastic moves and equipment in fights instead of, like, real weapons or whatever. But I'm not all that strong and I don't like guns, so I figure it's better for me to work with what I know."

Which, funnily enough, involved using her body's weight and momentum as...leverage.~~I COULDN'T NOT IT WAS A MORAL IMPERATIVE I REGRET NOTHING.~~

Creative Problem Solving, Tuesday, period 3

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