fandomhigh | Entries tagged with adventuring survival tactics

Cara had her class meet her down at the causeway, where she tossed them a wallet each.

"So you survived the summer, congratulations." She was not actually being sarcastic there. "You've also displayed relatively consistent judgement, so I can hope that if I send you out exploring, which is exactly what I'm doing, you won't get into too much trouble or miss the island moving on or need me to bail you out." Don't need bailing out, Cara would do it, but she'd also mock you.

She made a little shooing motion with her hands. "Go, have fun, I'll be in the Onsen if any of you need me."

wrongkindofsith

There was actually class today, though it was being held in the Danger Shop.

"So our current location has a lot of portals." Cara was not going to talk about last week. Repression was a perfectly good coping method. "Hopefully by now, you all know that randomly poking about in them is only going to lead to trouble, but what about people who lack survival instincts?"

Was anyone at all surprised that a simulation of Tino appeared right then?

"Your job today is to save an idiot from himself. However you can."

wrongkindofsith

Cara's feelings on the island's latest destination could be summed up in one word, and that word greeted her students when they showed up to an empty classroom.

NO

Sometimes even someone as stubborn as Cara knew which battles to pick.

[ooc: blargh, no class.]

wrongkindofsith

Cara's class was meeting in an ordinary classroom today, where Cara looked crankier than usual. Was she missing the Krogans? Maybe a little.

"You were going to have to figure out threats in an unfamiliar place today, but cheese isn't that dangerous." Unless you were Tali. Sorry Tali. "So instead you get to watch a bunch of idiots utterly fail at that."

wrongkindofsith

Cara had told her class to meet her in the Urdnot Camp, where they'd find her talking with one of the scouts, who was gesturing animatedly as he explained something to her.

"So sometimes you end up places were it seems that everything is trying to kill you," she said, not even bothering to mention last week, because there was no need to remind themselves about it. "There are various ways to deal with this, such as attempting to kill everything first, but you can also make this work for you. My new friend here is going to explain one of the ways you can do it."

The Krogan clapped his hands and a varren trotted over to him, followed by a litter of much smaller varren.

wrongkindofsith

There was a deeply annoyed pony at the front of the classroom today.

"Let's talk about recognising problems," Cara said, gesturing with a wing and a hoof. "For example, if something like this happens during the week and lasts longer than a day, especially at certain times of the year, it usually means the rest of the week's going to involve either the island screwing with us or something invading which results in the island screwing with us."

She'd been on this island too damn long, she knew how this went by now. "So, today's class, use some common sense to figure out what the best thing you can do in this situation is and go do it."

wrongkindofsith

In a change from most of the summer, Cara was actually holding class up at the school today, largely because there was no new and exciting tavern across the causeway and the sky was starting to creep her out a little.

"So it looks like introductions'll useless since you should all know each other by now, and I assume you're taking this because you have something resembling good sense. So let's skip all that, and instead just tell me something you think you need to learn about in the next few weeks and I'll see if I can work it in. Then you can go raid the squirrel's rum stash or something."

wrongkindofsith

In a shocking departure from form, Cara did not have her class meet her at the Onsen. Instead she led them into Eternos City, and down to the entrance of the Temple of the Sun.

"So, let's see if you've been paying attention," she said. "We're going exploring. No going off on your own, stay within sight of the group, and if something looks dangerous, let me take care of it."

Because if she couldn't have her soak, maybe she'd get to kill something.

wrongkindofsith

Cara had intended to hold class across teh causeway today, but she'd gone across to scope thingsa out, heard the accents and immediately turned straight back around. So instead they were in the Danger Shop, which looked a lot like the preserve.

"Adventuring usually means travel, which unless you happen to be very fortunate, means you will spend considerable amounts of time away from the nearest city, or village, or farm. Which means you will need to consider food, because even if you're able to pack and carry a reasonable amount of supplies for your expeced trip, there's every chance that something might happen to it.

"So today you get to figure out how to make a meal from what you can find in the wilderness. Remember, if you don't know that something safe to eat, it probably isn't."

wrongkindofsith

Cara's class weren't going over the causeway this week, because murder bears. So instead they were in Caritas, because that was a completely responsible choice.

"Last week was all about when it's a good idea to ignore things, today it's the opposite, things you shouldn't ignore," Cara said. "Now the obvious one there is threats. Paranoia doesn't do anything ony good, but when you're deliberately headed towards the danger it's smart to keep an eye out for trouble."

She leaned back against the bar. "Something else to watch out for are people like Tino here, unable to be a credible threat if they tried, but still somehow possessing the potential to screw everything up for you," she said, blithely ignoring the glare she got. "So, how do you figure out who and what to keep an eye out for?"

wrongkindofsith

Cara led her class over the causeway again this week, but not to an inn or tavern...not least because she hadn't een able to find it. Instead they were in the town square, or what passed for one.

"Even though it's been a few days, I doubt any of you want to think too hard about the weekend, so today you're going to learn the valuable skill of not thinking about it. So go, explore, find something to distract yourselves with." She made a little shoo-ing gesture. They'd thank here when they were older and needed to repress things.

wrongkindofsith

Cara did not lead her class across the causeway this week, because that would be too easy. Instead she led them to a clearing the the preserve.

"So you're on a quest, you've figured out who's doing what, now comes the next part," she said. "Adventures tend to happen outside, which is great if you're the outdoors type who enjoys rain, mud, insects, random bandits trying to kill you, lost farm animals and children, sheep stuck up trees, the list goes on." Cara was only occasionally a fan of the great outdoors.

"So your job today is to turn this clearing into a suitable camp site, or at the very least figure out what you'd need to do so."

wrongkindofsith

Cara had led her students over the causeway again this week, though today the bar they'd ended up in was considerably less shady.

"So last wekk you tried to figure out if people were trustworthy enough to listen to when they askd you to go on some kind of quest," she said, once they were seated. "Now today we're going too assume that you were actually concinced to do something, which brings us to whether you actually have the skills to acomplish your task, since there's very little point in storming the castle if you've never even picked up a weapon.

"Ideally you'd be able to find a well-balanced team whose skills compliment each other, but since that never happens, you're going to have to work with what you've got." Cara gestured at them. "Talk with the person next to you, work out what skills you have that might help accomplish the quest I'm about to give you, one way or another."

wrongkindofsith

Cara had informed her students to meet her at the causeway.

"I'm taking advantage of our current location for this," she said once there seemed to be the right number. "So follow me, and try not to get lost. That means you too, Leroy."

In short order Cara led them over the causeway and into Stormwind, and from there into one of the taverns in the Dwarven District, where she pointed them towards a large corner table with a view on the common room. "Sit."

Once everyone was seated, Cara continued. "So you're probably in this class because you like the idea of adventuring, or because of some kind of paperwork error," she said. "When it comes to adventuring, the first and best lesson I can give you, is don't. Adventures get people killed, and if you're fortunate, it'll be the other guy.

"But since you're either going to ignore that or have no choice in the matter, the next bit of advice I can give you is to try to be smart about what adventures you go on, and one way to do that is to not walk into obvious traps, which is why we're here, as taverns and the like are one of two place where people inevitably come up and ask you for help." The other was wandering around outdoors minding your own business, but Cara was in no way stupid enough to tempt fate by having the class do that. "So we're going to spend this class observing. Pay attention to your fellow patrons, especially if someone comes up to them with some kind of idiot quests. Discuss what makes them seem trustworthy or not. Try to be discreet. Apparently it's a bad example if I get into brawls during classtime." Plus she might have to pay for damages.

"But before we get started with that, first class means introductions. So name, class, one time you might have avoided trouble if you'd looked before you leaped."

geniuswithasmartphone

For the last class, like the first, the Danger Shop was set up to look like Ye Old-Timey Fantasy Tavern, because Hardison did love him some tropes, and 'getting an adventure hook in a tavern' was one of the oldest.

"I'm looking for some adventurers!" an old man announced a few minutes after class began. "A small band of the most brave and stalwart! Monsters have moved into the cave system nearby the village and are terrorizing our outlying farms! There's gold and treasure in it for anyone who can make our town safe again!"

Once the old man sat back down, Hardison stood up. "That's your final, class," he said. "You can work alone, though it might be easier to go in a group or somethin'. Head to the caves, defeat some monsters, an' enjoy the sweet reward of treasure." And a good grade, but whatever. "So figure out what class you wanna be from the ones we went over this session, decide who you're gonna team up with, if anyone, an' enjoy your taste of fantasy adventure!"

tigerundercover

"So Hardison couldn't be here for class today," Raven said when everyone seemed to be gathered. "He had some things he needed to do at home." She wasn't smirking. You're smirking. "So congratulations, you get me, instead.

"Now, I don't actually know all that much about D&D and the classes that he's been talking about, but I do know about fashion. And since in my time it's only been a little while since Queen Elizabeth II was crowned in England, I know a little bit about at least one sort of character: royalty."

Raven pressed a few buttons -- thank god the Danger Shop had such straight forward controls -- and a couple racks of clothing came springing out.

"So we're going to play dress up again, today. I want you to create a royal character. A princess, a queen, a king. Maybe a tsar or an empress or a duke. Are they a tragic figure, doomed by their title? Are they a warrior? A diplomat? A figurehead or a tyrant? Are they king of a nation or maybe king of the fairies? The pirate queen or the queen of darkness? Pick an outfit and tell us all about it."

Raven gestured to a table absolutely glittering with jewels and shiny metal. "And don't forget to accessorize," she said. "After all, royalty just isn't royalty without the right headgear."

geniuswithasmartphone

Hardison had a nasty headache today--no it wasn't caffeine withdrawal, he didn't know what you were insinuating--so class was going to be pretty easy today. "Sup," he said, greeting the class without any cool costumes on. "Today I thought it would be cool for you to see some of these classes in action, so...yeah. That's what we're gonna do."

He gestured to the wardrobes, which were filled with any number of ~~moddable~~ costumes of all types and varieties. "Pick out a costume--whatever you feel like wearin' today, go nuts, then settle in an' watch this. For the purposes of our class, we're considerin' it a documentary."

It wasn't but Hardison honestly was not at all concerned about that. Look, there were couches, snacks, and blessed, life-giving soda. What more did y'all need?

geniuswithasmartphone

Today, rather than an armory, the Danger Shop opened into a library. And on the walls, where there were no books there were racks of staffs. Their teacher turned to face them, wearing an impressive set of robes, a book tucked under one arm, and a staff in his hand. "Welcome back to class," he said with a grin. "Today we're coverin' my favorite class, the magic-users. Whether they're memorizin' spells out of old dusty tomes or spell-slingin' on the fly, magic-users twist arcane energies into a variety of different spells. They can fling attack spells, heal people, enchant items, give bonuses to their allies, an' hex their enemies. Also, their clothes are dope."

Not that he was biased or anything.

"Now then, havin' phenomenal cosmic powers comes with some drawbacks. Most magic-users have less health, strength, an' stamina than the other classes. They can only wear light armor, which means they're vulnerable to attacks from other characters. They're kinda glass cannons, capable of dealin' a helluva lotta damage, but unable to take much in return. Also, magic-users work from a limited number of spells. Unlike a fighter or a rogue who can keep fightin' until their weapon breaks, most magic-users can't go that long. Some magic-users are limited by how many spells they can memorize in a day. Others have a supply of mana that they burn through, an' either need to wait until it refreshes naturally or take some kind of potion to give themselves a boost. Either way, when they're out, they're out, an' few magic-users have the strength or skill to wield a weapon."

"Now, because there are so many ways that magic can express, there are plenty of different schools of magic an' various kinds of magic-users. We're only gonna cover a few today, because we just ain't got time to cover 'em all. But if the amount of spells a magic-user can throw is limited by their memory or mana, the only limit to the way a magic-user uses their magic is only limited by their imagination." He grinned at them, then held out his palm where a glowing ball of electricity formed. "An', of course, for today's class we all have magic."

geniuswithasmartphone

Hopefully everyone enjoyed playing dressup last week because once again the Danger Shop was set up to look like a giant costume closet. There were fewer clothes for both men and women, because men's costumes seemed to mostly involve long cloaks that could go sweeping behind them dramatically, while women's costumes tended towards corsets. Lots and lots of corsets. He went with fewer costumes in the name of making sure all his students were comfortable with their options. The weapons were also more limited, variations on small blades, knives, daggers, and throwing implements, but there was a whole shelf of poisons they could look through, neat and tidy in small glass vials. Other shelves held alchemical potions with titles like 'smoke bomb', 'toxic cloud', and 'pitch.' The bottommost shelf held jars of bees for some reason, that buzzed angrily whenever anyone came near. In another corner was an armoire filled with blunderbusses and old-fashioned black powder pistols, ranging from the utilitarian to those with elaborate scrollwork and chased with gold or metal.

"'Sup," Hardison said, his greeting period-appropriate. "After last week, it seemed like there were a lot of y'all interested in the kind of class that favors speed an' dexterity over brute strength. So this week, we're learnin' about rogues, a must on any adventurin' party. Now, most rogues ain't big on dealin' out damage or suckin' hits the way your fighters are. Naw, instead, the real value a rogue brings to her team is her ability to get folks into an' outta places they ain't supposed to be in. Your standard rogue can pick locks, disable traps, an' use magic devices when there isn't a mage or wizard around to do the honors. They favor stealth an' cunnin' more than anythin' else an' can do a great deal of damage when they getcha from behind or when you're otherwise unaware. A fighter will wade into battle an' hit an enemy until it stops movin'. A rogue will sneak around, wait for the perfect opportunity to strike, and use whatever nasty tricks they have handy to make their hit count."

And if Hardison sounded a little fond of the rogue archetype, well...one only needed to look at the company he kept to figure out why.

geniuswithasmartphone

When the class stepped through the Danger Shop, they'd think they stepped into a...wardrobe mixed with an armory. On hangers and stands were various styles of armor, for both ladies and even a few for guys. Hey, he wasn't going to assume anything about the tastes of his students! The one thing no one would find was stereotypical underwear armor. Hardison didn't have time for all of sexist nonsense. Not in his classroom.

"Welcome back," Hardison greeted when his students entered. He was dressed appropriately. "A'ight, so I probably don't even have to give this lecture, cause either this won't apply to your life or it does an' so you probably already know better'n me, but weird things happen on this island, so I'mma just say this to be clear. This course is based on fantasy media, not fact. Everythin' we learn about, everythin' we cover, it comes from adventures that take place in folks' imaginations. Please don't take anythin' we learn here as anythin' other than fun an' games for summertime."

And that over with, he gestured to the costumes around him. "A'ight, so the adventurin' class we're studyin' today is Fighters. They're pretty much the most basic of all classes; they make up the backbone of most adventurin' parties. Fighters is a pretty broad umbrella term; there are a buncha different varieties of fighters to serve peoples's individual tastes. For the most part, though, they got a few basic things in common. They're usually tanks--that means that they wade in an' do serious damage. They usually ain't the fastest fighters--heavy weapons that do a lot of damage are pretty slow to swing. They also generally wear pretty heavy armor--thick hides, heavy leather, and strong metals, either as chainmail or plate. As a tank, you end up takin' a lot of hits as well an' you need to be able to keep goin' an' not end up skewered, sliced, or scored. A good set of armor can turn a blade an' leave you with bruises insteada stab wounds."

Important life advice, even if a lot of the armor was pretty impractical. Or, it would be if it were anywhere other than the Danger Shop.

geniuswithasmartphone

Once again, class would be held in the Danger Shop. Because there was a Danger Shop and no self-respecting hacker nerd like Hardison would be able to forgive themself for holding a class anywhere but the Danger Shop if that was a possibility. Today, however, when the class opened the door into the Danger Shop, they'd find themselves in a tavern called The Thief and Hitter, a name that made him smile every time he looked at it. Anyone familiar with epic fantasy movies or video games would feel right at home, with the scarred wooden tables, the roaring fire with a pig roasting on a spit, and a thickly-muscled barkeep standing behind a long wooden counter while several pretty ladies (and a few pretty lads, too, Hardison was equal-opportunity) waited tables, bringing over battered metal tankards filled with brown ale and heaping plates of mutton and bowls of stew. If the barkeep looked like the manager of a local diner on one of his surlier days and if one of the blonde serving girls was helping herself to money pouches, well, surely those were coincidental.

( Welcome to D&D 101 )

Just as the last of the introductions and explanations were over, a stout, well-armored dwarf woman reached down to her belt for her money pouch, only to discover it missing. "Thief!" she shouted, pointed to the man next to her, and took a swing. Within seconds the entire tavern was engulfed in a brawl. The only spot of relative calm was around the table of students. "Uh-oh," Hardison said, though he was grinning. "Looks like there's a big fight between y'all and the exit. Looks like you need to find a way to get outta here, whether you wanna fight your way out, sneak out, or find another way. Good luck!"

nine-and-ears.livejournal.com

The Doctor had printed essay booklets at each desk, and even had number 2 pencils (Dixon Ticonderogas, to be specific) there as well.

The test booklet read as follows:

( Cut to save your f-list )

Hey. No one said the test would be fair.

The Doctor also had written 'Talking = Class Failure' and 'Cheating = Class Failure, Detention, Meeting the Principal'.

He was apparently a little cranky this morning. He was watching the classroom like a hawk. Best not to cheat or talk, then.

[ooc: OCD up. And thank you ALL for making a -wonderful- class this semester. You all deserve cookies and pie and cake.]

nine-and-ears.livejournal.com

The classroom was back to the boring uniform classroom with plain walls and desks and shelves. The Doctor's desk was devoid of any sign of his holo-projector. The classroom was merely that, again, a classroom. The Doctor himself was at his teacher's desk, sitting back in the chair, his feet propped up.

"For those of you worried about a final, well, it'll be really easy. Boring old essay test. For those of you thinking we'll be having another instance of my sneaky holographic practical exam, sorry, no. Going to take it easy on you, what with summer being so soon. Now, the topic for today, well... it's a matter that will sadly hit close to home, especially what with graduation coming up, and some other incidents lately that I've heard of."

He took a deep breath and stood up.

"People go in and out of your lives. It's inevitable. You can't have everyone around forever. People grow up, move on, die, fall behind, everything. And the most important thing to remember is this: You have to let it happen. Everything has its time. And if you truly love someone, truly respect them, you respect their choices, their decisions. It sounds ridiculous, sounds stupid, but... you have to let go."

Another deep breath.

"Susan Foreman, Barbara Wright, Ian Chesterton, Vicki Pallister, Steven Taylo, Katarina, Sara Kingdom, Dodo Chaplet, Ben Jackson, Polly Wright, Jamie McCrimmon, Victoria Waterfield, Zoe Heriot, Liz Shaw, Jo Grant, Sarah Jane Smith, Harry Sullivan, Leela, K-9, Romanadvoratrelundar, Adric, Nyssa of Traken, Tegan Jovanka, Vislor Turlough, Erimem, Kamelion, Perpugilliam Brown, Frobisher, Evelyn Smythe, Melanie Bush, Dorothy McShane, Thomas Hector Schofield, Chris Cwej, Roz Forrester, Bernice Summerfield, Dr. Grace Holloway, Samantha Jones, Fitz Kreiner, Charlotte Pollard, C'rizz, Rose Tyler, Jane Canary."

He left Jack off the list for obvious reasons.

"You know what that list is? That's a list of just some of the people that have meant a lot to me, over the years. The people I've travelled with, laughed with, sat down and had a meal with. People I've loved, people I got furious at, people who were an integral part of my life. I've watched them fall in love and settle down, go back to their daily lives because they couldn't stay up with me, crash into the Earth to cause the dust cloud that would make the dinosaurs go extinct. In two weeks time, a good lot of you will be graduating, and the rest of you will be having friends that do so. Now is the parting of ways. You'll see each other again, if life dictates it. Until then, there must be no regrets, no tears, no anxieties. Just go forward in all your beliefs, and prove to each other that they are not mistaken in theirs."

He smiled. "No sense in keeping you around, really. Class dismissed until next week's final. Any questions, come see me after."

nine-and-ears.livejournal.com

The classroom was all paint-splattered walls and bean bags again this week. After everyone entered, the Doctor began his lecture.

( And he does talk a lot )

The Doctor cleared his throat. "And that brings us to the discussion topic of the day. Try and figure out what it is you live for, in this universe of ours. What's that thing that keeps you going. And if any of you say your sodding significant other, you're taking the cheap answer and lying to yourself. I'm sure they're all well and good, but love is temporary and fleeting. Emotions are a rollercoaster, not a rock to stand on. Think harder."

And with that bit of, well, bitterness really, the Doctor clapped his hands. "Alright, get to it!"

nine-and-ears.livejournal.com

The Doctor's paint-splattered classroom had no chairs. No bean bags. No swatches of carpet. The desk was gone.

Was the room entirely empty, then? Of course not. There were matresses. Lining the floors. The walls. Everything. The room was entirely padded with matresses. (and how did they get there? He has a time and space machine that can travel anywhere and is bigger on the inside and the out. He does these sort of things). So once everyone sat down, he began his lecture.

"First of all, I would like to make a statement that public nudity is not acceptable where the law prohibits such acts," the Doctor said. "Second, I'd like to talk a bit about redemption. No, I'm not going to tell you about any sort of religious savior, don't worry. I may have padded the walls but that does not mean I've gone mad. What I am saying, is that sometimes, some of the worst people in the universe can become some of the greatest. It all just depends on what they're doing. Ex-nazis helped put a man on the moon, the Renaissance bred warfare death and wonderful art, but really, that's not what I'm getting at, either."

The Doctor paused for a moment.

"There is such a thing as irreedemable evil. But in the long run, it's very hard to reach that. I've committed terrible acts in my life, but also acts of great good. The same goes for the Master, if you remember him from my previous classes. Now admittedly, a lot of the great acts I've seen from people who have done great wrongs are the type that involve self-sacrifice to save people from the bad things they'd done. But that's not always the case. Lives can always be rededicate to good. Never be too quick to judge a fellow who seems to have had a change of heart. Suspicion is all well and good, but don't let yourself be too tainted by their past misdeeds. Unless they are Charles Manson, because that fellow is just a right nutter."

The Doctor smiled and went a bit more in depth into the subject ~~in a totally modable way~~.

"As for the rest of the class... have fun with the padded room. I'll be sitting here, eating an apple."

And he sat down, and proceeded to start eating an apple.

[ooc: OCD UP. Have at it.]

nine-and-ears.livejournal.com

The Doctor's classroom looked rather odd, given the new splattered paint scheme on the walls. Bean bag chairs for the students again, but there was no TV program to watch, alas.

"Now that you all should feel comfortable with the concept of snatching the pebble from the master's hand, I have one of the most important lessons of survival for you all. It's rather simple. Don't go hungry, if you can avoid it. An army marches on its stomach, and an adventurer who skips meals is an adventurer who ends up alerting guards with their rumbling stomach. The rules are easy. Don't refuse a free meal unless you're pretty certain it's been poisoned. Free drinks, always accept them if they come in some sort of sealed form, but if they're mixing you a cocktail or Kool-Aid, be careful. Being able to stomach live grubs can save your life. Catching, killing, and cleaning your own wild game can be handy, but so can knowing how to hijack an ATM so you can buy a hot meal from a food vendor cart. Foods that make you gassy are a bad plan. Too much grease means you'll have to run to the bathroom at inopportune times. Keep hydrated. There's no such thing as too much fiber in your diet. And the most important of all, always carry some sort of sweets on you. Always handy, that. Oh, and don't forget the food pyramid, and if you're in such dire position as you are considering drinking your own urine and or eating your mate, well, sucks to be you."

The Doctor smiled. "Any questions?"

After answering any questions, the Doctor spoke up again. "Talk to your neighbors about food. That's right. Something. Even if it is contemplating eating your mate or anything ridiculous like that. Should be fun, right?"

The Doctor clapped his hands. "Go on, get to it."

And that was class.

[ooc: Up omgearly so I don't forget it. I'll be AFK most of tommorow at temp job, alas, but I'll grab pings when I can!]

nine-and-ears.livejournal.com

The Doctor said nothing as students came in today, and merely switched on a film projector when they all arrived. An episode of "Martial Art" started to play.

Before the class period was even halfway over, the Doctor was no longer in his seat. Where did he go? It is a mystery!

[ooc: Sorry folks. Was whoa exhausted last night and don't really have time to come up with a proper class now. Hopefully next week will be better.]

nine-and-ears.livejournal.com

The Doctor was finally back to teach the class, looking as smug as ever. The classroom was beanbag chairs again, but in the middle of the circle was a table, with a pitcher of red liquid and several already filled cups. There was a small sign reading 'Help Yourself' taped to the pitcher.

After everyone entered, the Doctor clapped his hands together and began his lecture.

"Anyone who already sipped the Kool-Aid, congratulations, you've been drugged into submission and will now be totally open to me exploiting you for your money and identity and what-have-you. Well, not actually, since that would get me fired as a teacher, but in principle, that's what you get for drinking the Kool-Aid. Cults are funny things, you know. They always seem so odd, don't they? You've got you Charlie Mansons, your Sisterhood of the Sacred Flame, Scientologists, Heaven's Gate, all of them. What do these all have in common? People who like to do weird things and a leader who enables them to do it. Sure, you say you wouldn't want to sacrifice a goat while dancing naked in a field, but get a little drugs in your system, and most people cave to peer pressure."

The Doctor then went on and on about various bizzare instances of cults across the galaxy.

"And now for today's activity. Pair up, and decide what you would mandate if you ran your own cult. It's like making a new religion, except... well, it's exactly like making your own religion, really. Only you're possibly saying you believe aliens will come and save your souls if you kill yourself, or that the message of the divine can only come from having sex with your romantic partner while eating lots of brocolli. Silly stuff, really. Have fun with it. And remember: never drink Kool-Aid from someone you don't know too well. And as much as you may think you know me? You kids have no idea at all."

He smiled in a happy, bright, 'I'm as a mad as a hatter' sort of way. "Go on, cult it up!"

[ooc: ~~Wait for OCD?~~ Have at it!]

rose-bad-wolf.livejournal.com

Rose dashed into class looking rushed and wet . "Sorry! So Sorry! Didn't mean to be late but there was this thing with the weather -- no excuse I know. Anyway, Doctor asked me to fill-in as he's swanned off to parts unknown, possibly blowing things up and/or saving the galaxy."

"Looked through his class syllabus and decided to go for another tangent altogether, do you know what I find to cause 30% of the trouble we encounter on planets happen to be? If you say cultural misunderstandings you'd get a big heapin' A, well not really but you get the idea. Thing of it is, most of our run for our lives encounters happen because one of us didn't know the culture or someone who shall remain unknown, let's call him Factor, tends to deliberately insult a chief of state or some such alien tyrant because he can't keep his big gob shut.

"It always works out for the best, mind, but diplomacy does go a long, long way. Better a kind word said than telling 'em 'Need to turn down the sugar, eh? Getting a bit fat 'round the chin.'," She paused and looked to the students, "So, I want you lot to discuss different cultural misunderstandings and how you could avoid causing an international scene that would inevitably lead to your ugly death."

(ooc: ~~pls wait for~~ OCD up)
(ooc: so sorry for the late post! Time escaped from me!)

Current Mood: rushed

rose-bad-wolf.livejournal.com

Since the Doctor had beanbags out Rose left it as is, if it worked for the Doctor who was she to change things?

Rose smiled at the class, gesturing for them to sit. "Hullo, before you all go scattering to the four winds thinkin' you've stepped into the wrong class let me assure you that you are in the right class. The Doctor asked me to speak to you lot and before anyone asks for qualifications my short version would be because once, long ago, I used to travel with him."

( Read more... )

"Now, I've told you my qualifications for a travelling companion, I want to hear about yours. What qualities do you think are necessary for a fellow travelling companion?"

(~~please wait for~~ OCD up!)

Current Mood: satisfied

nine-and-ears.livejournal.com

The Doctor had beanbags in the classroom again. He gestured everyone in, then, when everyone was situated. He shut the door, turned, and began to speak.

( And boy, does he speak )

[ooc: Sorry for lateness. Windows spontaneously rebooted overnight and killed the unsaved text file I had of the partially written class. ~~Wait for OCD, danke~~ Huzzah! OCD Up!]

saltandammo.livejournal.com

In a bizarre and striking change of pace, the classroom had normal classroom furniture today. "The Doctor asked Dean and myself to cover today's class," Zack said. "According to the syllabus, we're supposed to be doing 'Dressing to Not Get Killed'. My advice is to avoid high heels. Especially if you're a guy and have little experience wearing them.

"In fact," Zack said, "In order to prove how condusive high heels are to getting you killed, I made this."

He held up a shoe. "It's one of a pair of explosive high heels. Wearing it will get you killed, not wearing it may help you survive. Discuss this idea and how it can be taken further."

Dean had turned to stare at him with an expression of disbelief before turning back to the class. "In addition to that ever so helpful advice about not strapping explosives to your feet, you want to be open to the idea of disguises, Sometimes it can help to blend in, to hide, or to bluff your way out of something. Or to get people to tell you things they wouldn't otherwise. So what we want you to do is brainstorm some possible situations where disguising yourself would be a good thing and what kinds of disguise would work the best." He glanced at Zack. "Right?"

"Right," Zack nodded. "That works too."

Dean smriked. "Once you've done that, pick one disguise and see what you can put together for it for next week's class."

"But avoid the heels," Zack said. "I seemed to have misplaced the other exploding one."

Dean stared at him again. "Dude, we so need to have a talk about appropriate use of explosives."

[OOC: written with

twohalvesofaphd, ~~wait for~~ OCD is up. Have at it!]

Current Mood: creative

nine-and-ears.livejournal.com

Today, the classroom had pillows. Lots and lots of pillows. The Doctor was standing, with a smug grin on his face. When everyone had gathered, he spoke.

"Sex. If you're going to get all righteous and uptight on me, you're officially excused out the door right now and you can go watch Davey and Goliath clips on YouTube or whatever it is you boring people do. Anyone leaving?"

He paused, just in case anyone did.

"Now this isn't your stupid and silly tab a into slot b lesson. That... well, frankly, that's boring. I'm sure Mr. Harkness could share his expertise for multiple, well, yes, I'm not here to talk about what two humans can do with their block and tackle, right? This is about what happens when you get really friendly with a nice blue girl with mandibles or a scaly fellow who doesn't have lips. So now, please bear with me."

And then the doctor launched into a lengthy lecture. With gestures. Dolls and bizzare plushies as Visual aids. And some possibly psychologically scarring content about what one does with horns, mandibles, scales, tails, and, of course, tentacles.

"So now, pair up, one of you pretend to be a creature with different physiology, and chat each other up. If you need some ideas, there's some ~~tentacle porn~~ magazines under some of the pillows. No actual sex in my classroom, please. I'd get sacked, and that would be a bad thing. So... go ahead and do what comes naturally, eh?"

[ooc: ~~Wait for~~ OCD is up, my friends.]

nine-and-ears.livejournal.com

It wasn't swatches of carpet or bean bag chairs, this day in AST. Instead, there were leather ottomans about. Imported from the Ottoman Empire.

"Today," the Doctor said. "We'll be talking about something you'll probably find even more outrageous than the idea of running away. Today, we're talking screaming. And just so we're perfectly clear, this is not a sexist thing. Men can do this just as 'orrible as the ladies, and sometimes even worse."

"Screaming does many things. Draws attention, clears your lungs, assaults the ears, and much, much more. When confronted with something terrifying, like a Dalek, screaming is a much better reaction than soiling yourself. One is much easier to clean up after than the other. Now, here's the good thing about screaming: It gets people to react. It may get help. It, sadly, might get more of the villains to come after you. It might even kill the thing you are facing, if they're vulnerable to certain frequencies or decibels. All of this? Very likely."

"So, I want you to..." He pulled a set of ear plugs out of his pocket and stuck them in his ears. "Practice screaming. It's an important skill. Also, if you want to discuss how insane this class is, that works too."

"For homework, please compile a list of five situations for which you think screaming is a good idea, and five you think are not a good idea for screaming. Got it? Fantastic."

[ooc: OCD ~~coming~~ up and ready.]

nine-and-ears.livejournal.com

The Doctor had upgraded from carpet swatches to bean bag chairs, this week. There were a multitude of colors and patterns. He was sitting in one himself, that was bright pink with big white polka dots.

"Today, we're talking about a very, very important tool. That is running away. Also known as the tactical retreat, skidaddle, and vamoose. You may think that facing up to something involves standing your ground and not backing down, but that's just completely nutters, that. You stand your ground when you're ankle-deep in quicksand, you've doomed yourself. Now, retreat a few steps and get your enemy there, well, congratulations. You've used running away to your advantage, you have."

He clapped his hands together and smiled.

"Now obviously, this topic could have a lot of debate. And that's exactly what I want you to do. Pair up, and do a bit of pro/con work. Think about how you can use retreat for good, and how it might not work out. Also, think about any adages and sayings you know. Living to fight another day is much better than dying a brave man, I've found. I'll be happy to debate this point with anyone, but the main lesson here is this: There is no stigma to running away. It does not make you a coward. A coward dies in the face of horrible odds. A brave man retreats to live under opression until his true opportunity presents itself."

"Also, I want you to think about the importance of proper footwear, how high heels will be the death of all of you, the ability of women to find the one pothole in an open field, and why twisted ankles are completely and utterly inevitable. Go on. Discuss."

He felt rather smug.

Even though he'd really just succesfully taught... almost nothing at all.

[ooc: OCD ~~a-comin~~ up.]

nine-and-ears.livejournal.com

The Doctor didn't have desks in the classroom today.

He had little swatches of carpet. About 18 inches by two feet, rectangular. In various ~~moddable~~ styles and colors. He gestured as for the students to sit on these bits of carpet. After the opening bell rang, he smiled.

"This is Adventuring Survival Tactics," the Doctor said. "And the first adventuring sruvival tactic you need you learn is that those carpets EAT PEOPLE!"

He made spooky fingers.

"Okay, maybe they don't," the Doctor said. "But they could. One some strange planet. Now something else to keep in mind is what you are, in fact, capable of. So that's today. It's a getting to know yourself, and each other, exercise. You'll tell us all your name, what you think your greatest strength is, what you think your greatest weakness is, and the weirdest fact you can think to share about yourself."

He brushed off his jacket. "I'll begin. My name is The Doctor. My greatest strength is, of course, being as fantastic as I am. My greatest weakness is the very rare ocassion when I am overconfident. The strangest thing about me is that I've suffered eight circumstances that would normally have been fatal, but I live on." He nodded. "Your turn."

After everyone shared, he smiled and clapped his hands together. "Fantastic. Now then, you're welcome to talk with your fellow students about the following situation for the rest of the hour. No homework for the next week, because I'm nice like that. Now, discussion topic. What would you carry in your pockets if you knew you were going out into a dangerous place. No backpack, no. Pockets only. What're you bringing? Discuss."

He was a bit smug at that. He knew that no one else had dimensionally transcendental pockets.

[ooc: ~~Wait for the OCD~~ Welcome to play, my friends!]

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