fandomhigh | Diplomacy, Tuesday, September 9, 2025 [2nd period]

Today's classroom was set up like a cocktail party with a bartender on each side of the large room filled with generic wall art and a table full of snacks in the middle. The drinks were non-alcoholic but the food was real because your teachers weren't monsters. There were, however, some landmines on the table for a party where you are standing and talking: brownies that could get stuck in your teeth, broccoli that could get stuck in your teeth, chicken wings that rendered your fingers sticky, something with a sauce begging to drip on your shirt, and so on.

"Today we test what you remember from your interactions last week," Anakin said, "or what you can make up in a bland yet plausible way about your colleagues."

"Remember, you're all here at this function because you're representing a larger organisation," Ahsoka added. "What you say and do also reflects on them." So make sure any truly outrageous lies couldn't be traced back to you, basically.

"Do not get fake drunk and make a scene," Anakin said, nodding, "unless you are planning to quit, get fired, or leave the planet never to be seen again."

"Or you're participating in some kind of double bluff where you need to appear disgraced in order to accomplish a larger goal." Which was a very specific scenario that you sounded far too familiar with, Ahsoka.

Anakin nodded. "But that's a more advanced class." Because they'd definitely done that.

More than once, even.

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Mingling without alcohol was quite an ask for Flint, but he was doing his best by ~~hiding by~~ hiding by the buffet table. If his mouth was full, he couldn't talk, correct?

Oh ye of little faith in your fellow students' willingness to make small talk over finger foods.

"Flint!" Billie beamed at him. "My favorite historical anarchist!" A beat. "I mean, okay, my favorite historical anarchist is definitely Emma Goldman. But you're my favorite I've met in person so far."

They had fully not actually talked about anarchy last time. But he had clearly been a fan of overthrowing governments (or at least the English), so Billie felt safe extrapolating.

"I'm not familiar with the work of Miss Goldman," Flint admitted. "Why is she your favorite?"

"Oh, she is definitely after your time," Billie said, nodding knowingly. "Early 20th century. I like her because, I mean, she's a woman, or at least presented as one socially. And her writing and speeches were most influential!"

Flint was going to scoot right past "presented as one socially." He'd been on ships most of his life and, you know, sometimes people had secrets. "What was a part that most resonated with you?"

"You sound like a teacher of social studies," Billie teased him, even going so far as to reach out to give him a playful slap on the arm. "I definitely liked her critical analyses of the role of women in early 20th century society. Even though she was not a fan of first-wave feminism or the suffrage movement as it existed in the United States."

She smiled, pleased with her answer. "Do you have a favorite anarchic philosopher? I suppose the theory was fairly new in western culture in the early 18th century."

"I have thoroughly enjoyed my time reading Sun Tzu and the Art of War," Flint replied. "Does that count?"

“I haven’t read that yet,” Billie admitted. “Didn’t express anarchist ideas? I always had the sense that he was most preoccupied with battle strategy.”

"Well, he never says who you should be battling," Flint said. "I'm drawing my own conclusions."

“Death of the martial artist,” Billie said, far too pleased with herself.

Diplomacy, Tuesday, September 9, 2025 [2nd period]

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