Amaya Blackstone (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
special_rabbit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomhigh2018-01-02 05:28 am
special_rabbit) wrote in fandomhigh2018-01-02 05:28 am
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Creative Weaponry; Tuesday, 1st Period.
As the students came into the classroom, they'd find their teacher behind the desk at the front, her boots up as she steadily sharpened a knife. She didn't do well with idleness and found she couldn't just sit there waiting, though she nodded to everyone as they came, occasionally stifling a yawn. It wasn't the early hour that did her in; she was fine with mornings, but she hadn't gotten a whole lot of sleep last night. Not that she was nervous about teaching or anything. Shut up!
Her desk itself was covered with a large, thick blanket, with odd shapes and lumps underneath it, and she kept sharpening until everyone looked like they were present and settled and she took a glance toward the clock on the wall.
"Welp," she said, setting aside her sharpening stone, slipping the knife under the blanket, "that's time. Anyone late'll just have to play catch up, but there won't be too much today."
She pushed back her chair, standing up, brushing her skirt flat as she did, then lifted a hand to the class. "You're all probably here for Creative Weaponry. I'm your teacher," and she had to snort a little at saying that, honestly, teacher!, "Amaya Blackstone. Don't worry too much about these desks; after next week, we won't be spending much time in this room at all, we'll be in the Danger Shop," which she was going to have way too much fun with, "or I'm scouting a few locations around the island for more practical lessons, too. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
"In this class, you're going to find yourself put in a variety of situations with limited resources and a need to make some sort of weapon to get you through. Sort of like if there's a burglar in your house and you're in the bathroom, so you've got to think how to make a shower curtain and a hairbrush work for you. Anything can be a weapon if you need it to be. But before we get into knowing how you think on your feet, I wanna get to know a little about who you are. And we're going to do that through..."
Amaya grabbed the blanket on the desk and pulled it back, revealing the wide spread of weapons and tools it had been covering. Who didn't love a big reveal? And she looked on them with a faint happy smiled before she remembered why she was really there. "Weapons, of course! And tools, because they're pretty important, too. It's all pretty standard stuff, and sorry, no firearms. I ain't quite got a hold of all that yet, but I'm working on it. So today it's simple. We're all going to take turns, come on up to the front, and pick a weapon or tool that you feel represents who you are. I don't want you to just pick the first one to come to mind or the one that looks the coolest, neither. Think about it, then come on up, let us know your name, and why you picked what you picked. Don't go waving them around or poking each other with any of them, either, else I'll kick your butt into detention so fast you'll see stars for a week. Even the youngest of you is old enough to know better, or else you've got no business being in my class."
And Amaya tried out her stern look, which she'd been practicing, but she still had no idea if she pulled it off or not.
"Oh, and if any of you are interested in being an assistant for the class, see me afterwards. Lugging all this stuff back and forth by myself ain't the easiest thing in the world."
"I'll go first."
[[somewhere in the upcoming OCD is up. have at it!]]
Her desk itself was covered with a large, thick blanket, with odd shapes and lumps underneath it, and she kept sharpening until everyone looked like they were present and settled and she took a glance toward the clock on the wall.
"Welp," she said, setting aside her sharpening stone, slipping the knife under the blanket, "that's time. Anyone late'll just have to play catch up, but there won't be too much today."
She pushed back her chair, standing up, brushing her skirt flat as she did, then lifted a hand to the class. "You're all probably here for Creative Weaponry. I'm your teacher," and she had to snort a little at saying that, honestly, teacher!, "Amaya Blackstone. Don't worry too much about these desks; after next week, we won't be spending much time in this room at all, we'll be in the Danger Shop," which she was going to have way too much fun with, "or I'm scouting a few locations around the island for more practical lessons, too. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
"In this class, you're going to find yourself put in a variety of situations with limited resources and a need to make some sort of weapon to get you through. Sort of like if there's a burglar in your house and you're in the bathroom, so you've got to think how to make a shower curtain and a hairbrush work for you. Anything can be a weapon if you need it to be. But before we get into knowing how you think on your feet, I wanna get to know a little about who you are. And we're going to do that through..."
Amaya grabbed the blanket on the desk and pulled it back, revealing the wide spread of weapons and tools it had been covering. Who didn't love a big reveal? And she looked on them with a faint happy smiled before she remembered why she was really there. "Weapons, of course! And tools, because they're pretty important, too. It's all pretty standard stuff, and sorry, no firearms. I ain't quite got a hold of all that yet, but I'm working on it. So today it's simple. We're all going to take turns, come on up to the front, and pick a weapon or tool that you feel represents who you are. I don't want you to just pick the first one to come to mind or the one that looks the coolest, neither. Think about it, then come on up, let us know your name, and why you picked what you picked. Don't go waving them around or poking each other with any of them, either, else I'll kick your butt into detention so fast you'll see stars for a week. Even the youngest of you is old enough to know better, or else you've got no business being in my class."
And Amaya tried out her stern look, which she'd been practicing, but she still had no idea if she pulled it off or not.
"Oh, and if any of you are interested in being an assistant for the class, see me afterwards. Lugging all this stuff back and forth by myself ain't the easiest thing in the world."
"I'll go first."
[[