fandomhigh | How To Get By In A Hostile World, Thursday

"'Appearances are often deceiving'," Atton said. "That's one of those proverbs that seems to crop up everywhere, no matter what galaxy you're from. It's true, of course, but it's one of those things that despite repetition, most people don't really internalize."

He was sitting on the desk. They were in a regular classroom. Those were probably good signs for you today, kids.

"Which means it's something you can use," he said, hopping up on the desk. "It's kind of like the telepathy exercise we did a few weeks back: you want to distract the person that you're talking to in such a way that they don't get at some vital piece of information about you. Sex appeal helps, sure--" He eyed Isabela, "--but it can also be unwelcome, because it makes you stick out in the crowd. Usually it's best to go for something people will underestimate, or won't want to associate with. Be gross, but not too gross-- a regular amount of gross as expected of someone with your gender presentation. If part of you is able to tap into the vapid teenage girl thing, do that. Drop hints that you're shallow. Maybe act like you have a drinking habit you don't actually have."

Not that Atton knew anything about that one, or anything.

"Why is this important? Because we're in a class about dealing with big hitters when you're smaller," he said. "Like I said in an earlier class, the best way to even the odds is to mess with the other guy's head, because that's usually the part that isn't superpowered. Or super-popular, whatever your issues are. Get them to underestimate them. Keep them from asking too many questions. And then when you put a knife in their back, they won't see it coming at all."

Cough. Seriously. No experience with this whatsoever.

"'Course, this won't work if you're trying to play up something that isn't you at all," he continued. "If you're naturally confident about your sex appeal, stretch that out into lechery. If you're naturally cautious, make it look like cowardice. If you're brash, make it sound like you're reckless. Easily annoyed? Suddenly you're losing your shit over every tiny thing."

NO EXPERIENCE. WHATSOEVER.

"Now, I want you all to pair up and talk about your class schedules. Except the last thing you want to do is let the other person know your actual class schedule. The catch: you can't lie in response to a direct question. Find a way to convince the other person it's something other than it is by misdirection and playing things up. Then at the end of the class, I want everyone to tell the class what they've learned about their partner."

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Now Isabela wanted to know what kind of terrible book, curse you class exercises. "Additional studies, don;t you already have enough classes?" she asked instead.

"My guardian is fairly--" homicidal, "--demanding," Mara said. "And I have time with nothing but art classes and that one on not dying, you know?" Mara smiled. "What are you taking?"

"Oh, you already know about the one I have with you," she said breezily. "Art classes, you say? Do you have any need for a model?"

Because Isabela was totally a patron of the arts.

"I don't believe so," Mara said, frowning thoughtfully. Everything she knew about the art class was what she reported on Tuesday mornings. "Dr. Lecter likes to take us to different locations to be inspired instead. You can't just be taking one class!"

"Why not? It's more than I used to."

The joys of a non-traditional education.

"Oh, did you have tutors?"

Mara was a wee bit sheltered, for a tiny assassin.

"My husband hired one." That was one decent thing she'd gotten out of her marriage.

"How old were you when you were married?" Mara asked.

Isabela shrugged. "Sixteen," she said. "Well, close enough."

"And where is he now?" she asked carefully.

"Dead." Isabela sounded quite the grieving widow. Yes.

"You seem to miss him terribly," Mara said dryly.

"Zevran didn't," Isabela told her. "Knife to the back of the skull."

Mara winced. "Not an accident, then."

He deserved it, Mara. "I don't think you can accidentally hire an assassin."

"Not outside some sort of romantic comedy, at least," Mara said.

People should worry about the holos you're watching, Mara.

"How old was your husband?"

Mara was thinking "suuuuuuper old."

Possibly someone who was not writing a whole series of stories where the two ethics teachers were menaced by all sorts of dangers in order for them to get naked and vulnerable with each other might have been worried.

"Well, Zevran was my lover at the the time." Because that was a helpful detail to add, Isabela. "He certainly wasn't sixteen."

Definitely closer to super old than that.

Mara tilted her head toward Atton. "More his age, or older?"

She meant "worse."

Atton was practically their age compared to Luis. "Older."

Mara wrinkled her nose slightly. "Dr. Lecter?"

Ewwww.

Isabela tried to remember which one was that. "His hair wasn't greying but otherwise..."

"...so, not a love match," Mara said.

"Not unless you find following a girl home from the market and paying her mother a handful of sovereigns and a goat romantic."

"Ewwwww," Mara said. "No wonder you had him assassinated."

Oh, I didn't," Isabela said. "Not that I was terribly upset when Zevran showed up and told me about the contract." Hence why she gave him directions and the keys.

Re: Team Up and Talk

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