Journalism Class - Thursday September 15

[jerusalem-s.livejournal.com]

Professor Jerusalem is once again absent. All the screens are on and the newsfeeds are talking over each other at low volume.

Again, there is a message across the large screen behind his desk, this one in what appears to be vibrant orange spray paint.

Those of you without your homework turned in who weren't new students are SOL. Friday I'll post as to who's leaving the class. If you've turned in class assignments, I won't boot you, but you will be expected to have your homework done for next week. There'll be a notice with details later.

Professor Jerusalem will be down at the firing range if any of you would care to speak with him, but I wouldn't fucking advise it.

Sign the damn attendance roster and stay the fuck out of trouble.

Love and kisses

Spider

P.S. If you walked in here with a projectile weapon of any variety you have exactly five seconds to get it off your body and seek cover before it explodes.

Have a nice mother-fucking day.

Comments

[suzotchka.livejournal.com]

Ivanova reads the message, raises an eyebrow, shrugs her shoulders and goes to sign the roster. She freezes, scrabbles frantically at her side, and flings the semi-concealed PPG at the window, ducking behind a nearby desk at the same moment. The light weapon doesn't quite make it to the window and detonates against the wall, leaving a good-sized crater where the radiator and a good chunk of the outside wall had. She peeks over the edge of the desk and as she watches, more of the wall crumbled. She shrugs. "Gives the room more natural light." She stands, brushes off her pants, signs the roster, and strides out of the room towards the nearest bank to see if she has enough credits on hand to repair the gaping, smoking hole.