fandomhigh | 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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Not when it was your potential partners that discounted you.

Kathy was going to keep that little bit of self-pity to, well, herself, instead reaching for her backpack and pulling out one of her ribbons to give to Eliot to examine. The handle was made of hollow plastic that Kathy had drilled a hole into and then filled with metal. She couldn't tell you what kind of metal it was, since she'd done all the melting, drilling, and filling in the high school's metal shop, but it was heavy and that was all she worried about. The handle was then wrapped with duct tape, and the ribbons were reinforced by thin strips of wire she'd painstakingly sewed into the fabric following the weft.

In short, they looked pretty ridiculous. Kathy was neither a seamstress nor a metal-worker and the end result was fairly crude.

"I know it doesn't look like much," she mumbled, studying her feet. "The duct tape keeps the plastic from cracking and gives me a better grip. And it took me a couple of attempts to find a way to strengthen the ribbons while keeping them flexible."

Eliot gave it a good, long look, checking the heft of the handle and wiggling the ribbons a little to see how they moved. "Low-tech, but it looks effective enough." It wasn't as though every fighter out there could get their hands on fancy toys. He handed the ribbon back to her. "Mind showin' me what you can do with 'em?"

That had Kathy looking back up and giving him a small smile. "Okay," she said. "Mind if I use that sim again?"

She didn't wait for an answer, making a slipknot in her ribbon and sliding her hand into it. She tightened the knot around her palm to get a decent grip and then whipped the handle forward to slam into the sim's temple. "I'm a rhythm gymnast," she explained. "Or, well, I guess I used to be, back when I was still taking lessons and competing and stuff." She yanked on the ribbon again and the handle came sailing back to her. "So I learned how to do a lot of ribbon and rope tricks. If you give me a target, I can hit it."

Shaking her hand free, she grabbed onto the handle and widened the knot, then flung the ribbon end back at the sim. It settled over his shoulders and Kathy yanked again. This time, however, it acted as a lasso, the knot tightening around the sim's shoulders and holding fast.

Then she peeked back at Eliot to see what he thought. "I do more stuff, but that's the gist. At least when I'm standing still."

Which was all she was going to do until she was certain he wouldn't think that she was, like, bragging or something. Sure, he'd asked for a demonstration, but that didn't mean he'd actually wanted one.

Which, again, probably told Eliot more about her than Kathy really intended him to know.

She could beat that sim into the floor all she wanted, and all Eliot would do was maybe critique her form.

Eliot was nodding, eyebrows raised approvingly. His arms were crossed, but that was more his default standing position than any body language to be read into. "Not bad." He stepped forward, unfolding his arms. "If you adjust your stance a little, though. . . ." He demonstrated next to her, not sure if she'd be open to him shifting her directly. "Get a little more grounded and move through the hip, you'll have more power on the extension, and a more stable ground to pull back from."

Oh, pfft, the sim. Yeah, Kathy had no problems making that guy hurt.

"You mean, like this?" Kathy asked, trying to mimic his movements and..mostly?...succeeding. "Before I throw or take a swing, you mean?"

Pretty much all of her training had been in gymnastics, which didn't really focus on the power so much.

"Bend your knees a little more. Really settle your weight into the balls of your feet," Eliot suggested. "Before, during, and after. You wanna make sure you can move, but no one can move you. And when you're throwin', the movement should come from your whole body. Let the energy start in your grounded legs and extend up through your torso, then your arm sends it out with the ribbon."

Creative Problem Solving, Tuesday, period 3

Re: Get in! - Sim the second

Re: Get in! - Sim the second

Re: Get in! - Sim the second

Re: Get in! - Sim the second

Re: Get in! - Sim the second

Re: Get in! - Sim the second