fandomhigh | Creative Inspirations

This week, class had been advised to bring anything they wanted to create with - guitars, chalk, pencil - with them to Portalocity. Hannibal himself had brought a portable - somewhat, anyway; it ran on batteries and had a case - theremin with him. He was wearing (designer, expensive, plaid) jeans and a light sweater along with (expensive, designer, not-plaid) hiking boots.

"Welcome, everybody. This week will be slightly different - we'll be spending the entire class time at our destination, and indulging our creativity there."

//We'll be hitting up an old power station in Perth,// Jono intoned, a backpack over one shoulder and a mischievous glint in his eye. //It's been sitting abandoned for quite some time now, but it's quite the destination for people looking to explore old abandoned tunnels, get into things they generally shouldn't be getting into, and to paint on the walls.//

The bag, of course, was full of spray paint. Because Jono was an excellent role model.

"There are also bound to be some very interesting acoustics, for those of you who may be musically inclined," Hannibal added. "And if you'd like to explore, the tunnels apparently lead down to the sea. Please be careful, but enjoy yourself." He brought out another bag, this one with several hard hats in it. "We are required to wear these while within the structure. Everybody please take one." Not that they could force the students to wear them when they weren't in sight, but that wasn't his concern.

//Paint, explore, sing at the top of your lungs, whatever you see fit. Don't get yourselves hurt - bring a light with you into the tunnels if you do end up going that way - and we'd rather not have to go hunting for you at the end of the class period, but besides that, go nuts.//

And with that, they ushered the students through the portal, Jono opening up the bag of spray paint and flashlights for students to help themselves to once they were on the other side.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

//More or less,// Jono agreed. //Karla had just graduated, and the next step was war. I suppose it was fortunate, in a sense, that the New Warriors disbanded after that. Meant my loyalties weren't divided between two worlds. Meant I could throw myself completely into being a better soldier.//

"You already were a soldier," Hannibal corrected. "You had to become a general."

Jono wrinkled his nose a little bit at that.

//You know, I hated that rank all through the bloody war? Figured right up until I breathed in that lungful of witchblood that people really only called me that because they knew it drove me absolutely barmy. Either way, yes, that's what I needed to become. And I gave it my all, and... we built an army. We won a war. Whatever I did was only a small fraction of that, whatever rank they shoved at me, but that became my life for quite some time after the New Warriors disbanded.//

Jono, honestly. "What did you do in the war?" Hannibal asked.

Jono took this opportunity to give Hannibal a stinkeye.

//Rounded up troops across the Territory. Trained them. Led them into battle.//

You know. General stuff.

//Mostly we were the relief team. Mostly landen troops, and mostly up in the mountains. But we caused enough mayhem that Hobart wanted us dealt with.//

Hannibal was very good at ignoring stinkeyes.

"You and the troops you gathered, trained, and led," he prompted.

Creative Inspirations | Monday, period one

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