fandomhigh | Criminal Justice [1st period, Tuesday]

When students first entered the Criminal Justice classroom, it appeared to be empty, and the lights were slightly dimmed.

However, those who were especially observant, or have special sensory powers that allow them to notice such things, might have noted a figure off to the side, tucked into a shadow in the corner.

"A pleasant morning to you all," V greeted silkily once everyone had arrived, as he emerged from the shadow, lightly flicking his cape over one shoulder and clasping his gloved hands behind his back. "You are all here because you have a desire to learn more of this 'criminal justice,' I presume. Perhaps you have a personal investment - a vital verdict of vengeance or a vigorous, violent, vivid urgency to change your world or vindictate your own victorious verisimilitude."

He quirked his head at the class. "In short, a cause. Crime is relative; what may be one's grandest cause, their sacred ideal, is another's travesty - or worse, meaningless. Your mission is to make others care for your ideas, to feel what you feel."

He started passing out papers. "These are your syllabi. Over the next term, I expect students to gain a grasp of the workings of the law, a solid interpretation of justice, but most of all I want you to come away from this class with a purpose and a direction."

"We shall start with investigating the following question: what, to you, is a crime? What is something that would drive you to seek a way to right things? Or has driven, if you choose to give a personal example, though theoretical examples are fine. I'd also like to hear all your names, if you don't mind."

"I'll begin," he said, pulling off his hat and giving a slight bow. "Please, call me V - no 'Professor V,' or 'Mr. V,' as I do not care for titles nor do I find them necessary. Simply V. I view anything that wrongs an innocent as criminal, and those who inflict such damage should be brought to justice. At the moment I'm seeking a new cause, though for several years I pursued the goal of destroying a corrupt government due to their massacre of unsuspecting, unguilty individuals. I reminded them that governments serve people, rather than intimidate them or worse."

He quirked his head expectantly at the class.

[First of all, ~~wait for~~ OCD is up. Secondly, I'll be around until abooooooout 3 AM EDT, then asleep, and then I'll be on fairly steadily through Tuesday afternoon ~~with some slight iffiness around 1 and 3:30 PM due to commuting~~ except not really because class was canceled yay.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Fawkes. He tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament," Peter shrugged. "Now it's basically a holiday with bonfires."

"So we're taking a class from a guy in a mask of a guy who tried to blow up buildings?" Seely asked. "And you celebrate this kind of thing?"

"In England, we burn Guy Fawkes in effigy. So really it's celebrating the fact he failed," Peter replied. "Don't ask me why the teacher thinks wearing his face is a good idea though. Taking criminal justice from a guy wearing the face of a guy who tried to destroy the government is nicely ironic though."

"That's...kinda a cool holiday," Seely replied. "Gruesome, but cool."

"It rather is. Fireworks, bonfires, ritual humiliation of a man who's been dead for four hundred years. What could be better?" Peter laughed.

"Bowling?"

"Perhaps a nice game of lawn tennis?"

"Or croquet?"

"Could be rebels and do both."

"Croquennis?" Seely laughed. "Hitting tennis balls with mallets and croquet balls with rackets?"

Wouldn't be quite cricket," Peter laughed, possibly at a joke that was too British for general consumption.

"Well, no, it'd be Croquennis."

Peter grinned and accidentally knocked his pen off his desk and over towards Seely's. He bent down to pick it up and found himself face to knee.

He frowned. "Seely?"

Seely looked down at Peter. "Yeah, English?"

Peter facepalmed. "Very familiar kneecaps you have."

"How would you know what my kneecaps..." Comprehesion dawned. "Pony Peter!"

"I am not a pony!" Peter replied quickly. "It was temporary!"

"You bit me!" Seely shot back. "Twice!"

"You deserved it!"

"I did not deserve TO GET BITTEN BY A PONY!"

"You insulted my girlfriend," Peter replied, his voice getting colder. "You're lucky I was a pony."

Seely could do cold. "She kicked me first."

"Because you insulted her!" Peter replied.

"No, the insulting came after the crotch-kicking!"

"Touching someone inapropriately isn't insulting?" Peter asked furiously.

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