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Kanan Jarrus, The Last Padawan ([personal profile] uncertain_dume) wrote in [community profile] fandomhigh2019-01-03 05:59 am
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Culture Shock, Thursday, Period 2

When students filed into the danger shop today, they'd find themselves stepping into a setting that most would likely be unfamiliar with. Well, slightly more than half the class would be unfamiliar with. To a point.

It was a bar. A cantina, in fact, much like the one Kanan had used for his 'Laying Low' classes in semesters before. Outside the doors, there was the darkness of night, and all around them were people from every corner of the galaxy, only a small handful of them were human. A jukebox was playing a jaunty tune featuring instruments that weren't found on Earth, and nobody seemed to notice, or care, about the students who had gathered for class today.

Kanan had parked himself behind the bar and was idly cleaning out a glass with a bar rag as he spoke.

"Hey, guys. Welcome to Culture Shock. I'm Kanan," no, he wasn't volunteering his last name, because the first person who called him 'Master Jarrus' this semester was going to get booted out a Danger Shop airlock and left to drift aimlessly for the rest of that lesson, dammit, "and this," he gestured to Summer, "is..."

He wouldn't steal her chance to introduce herself in her first class at the school, no. This was a special moment or something, right?

Totally special! “I”m Summer,” she supplied, beaming the whole time, with a small wave, especially since she didn’t know any of them from her time as a student herself, which helped make this so less awkward. “And this class is going to be focused on helping to equip you to deal with some of the weird stuff that different worlds and dimensions and whatevers might throw at you, Fandom-related or otherwise. Kanan and I actually come from a good authority on these sorts of things, too. I’m from Earth, but a weird one, and I used to be a student here, while Kanan…”

And she trailed off with a gesture right back at him to pick it up, because they just had that synergy down pat, yo.

"I'm from a completely different galaxy. Which a couple of you are already familiar with." No, he wasn't offering up a homeworld, and you were all going to have to live with that. "In fact," he gestured to the cantina around them, "this is a scene I'd be pretty familiar with back home." He grinned. "You don't get a cantina like this here on Earth."

An Ithorian wandered up to the bar, said something very much not in English using the mouths on either side of his head, and Kanan shrugged, pulled a bottle out from behind the bar, and fixed him a drink.

"I'll tell you, this world was a bit of an adjustment from here."

“Meanwhile,” said Summer, grinning with probably a little too much excitement as she pressed a button that caused the room they were in to change significantly, from busy, hopping cantina to an almost aggressively average suburban living room, and she went to flop comfortably on the couch, kicking up her feet on the coffee table, “for me, not so much of an adjustment, no.”

She paused just enough for a tall, thin old man with wild blue hair to stick his head through the door from the kitchen and greet them all with a worried look and a burp. “Y-yo, Summer, you might want to get,” another burp, “moving, I just blew open an unclosable portal to a world where everyone’s themselves but with chainsaws for hands, and they are,” yet another burp, “sooooo not happy about it.”

He disappeared back into the kitchen and Summer lifted a finger, pointing back. “Including stuff like that. Now, we’ve never encountered versions of ourselves with chainsaws for hands here in Fandom yet, but, when we do, you’re welcome.”

"You're too kind, Summer," Kanan said, leaning in a doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as the sound of chainsaws revving up could be heard in the distance. Did he sound amused? Why yes. Yes he did. "But it really goes to show just how much one person's 'normal' can be another person's strange. Which is part of the point of this class. If you're taking it, presumably you're trying to adjust to the strange, or you're expecting you'll-" He ducked just as a chainsaw came through the wall where his head had been a moment before. Didn't so much as blink. Did raise his voice so that he could be heard over it, though. "-have to deal with something strange to you at some point in your future."

“I mean,” Summer added, then also raised her voice over the sounds; she did not remember programing them that loud, but, okay, sure, whatever, “you’re here. You’re gonna have to deal with something strange probably next week.”

She very quickly pushed the button again and they were back in the cantina, just a second too late to have missed when the screams started over in her simulation, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, that’s better. Anyway, what’s your normal is what we wanted to focus on this week. Instead of just another boring old who are you, why are you taking this class, blah blah blah introduction, we thought--” Well, it was Kanan’s idea, but they were a team now, Summer could claim credit by association, right? “--you could have the chance to show us and the rest of the class something about your world that might be totally normal to you, but maybe might not be to everyone else.”

"The computer's programmed to listen to a description and to put it on display as you go," Kanan added, and don't ask how much trial-and-error he'd had trying to get that function to work this morning, dammit, "so, let's have some introductions. Your name," because there were students he wasn't familiar with beyond that he'd seen them on the bus and was going to have to make sure that one with the hair didn't run off with the Danger Shop computer system, "and paint us a picture of your idea of normal. The room will do its best to display it as you go."

“So!” Summer clapped her hands together, tucked them under her chin, and smiled at them sweetly. “Don’t be shy! Who wants to be the first victim?....I mean, volunteer!”

...yeah. She might be enjoying this teacher thing just a tad too much.

[OOC: Open!]