![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Arching 101, Thursday, Period Seven
Thursday, August 19th, 2010 01:10 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
licensedtoarch.livejournal.comFor their final, the students met at the Danger Shop one last time. They were sitting in the audience, facing a broad stage, adorned with giant banners for 'Miss Universe Pageant.' After a few moments music and light, their teachers stepped on stage. They had clearly taken the time to dress up--their costumes were affixed with bow ties.
Unlike many of the teachers and townies, 21 and 24 looked cheery and well-rested after their stint in the cabins. In a lot of ways, it was like being back on the Cocoon again. The tiny beds and alcoves felt almost familiar, save they weren't flying through a canyon or being screeched a over the intercom at all hours of the day and night.
Okay, maybe 21 didn't look all that cheery. It was their last class, after all. "Well, class, this is our final afternoon together," he said, a little mournful. "I know it will be rough for you to see us go, after we've spent seven weeks together, molding your minds into keen, arching machines, but, like all good things, this, too, must end. Like the speech in the epic King of the Bracelets--"
"I think they get the point, 21," 24 interrupted, before his companion could wax geekily poetic throughout the entirety of the class period. "So, your final: you are all villains who have infiltrated the National Costumes segment of the Miss Universe pageant. Three of the contestants are secretly your highly-trained assassin-bots and you have designed their costumes to be lethal and deadly somehow." As 24 called their names, the pageant contestants walked out, spun, and paused, showing off their costumes. "Are Miss Belgium's tennis balls secretly bombs? Did you fill Miss Zambia's gourds with some kind of knockout gas? Is Miss Italy's sword real--and how far do you think you'll go if that's her only weapon? For Miss Croatia did you--" 24 stopped and looked at Miss Croatia's costume. "I got nothing."
Miss Croatia swept off the stage in a sulk.
21 finally pulled himself together. "So, your final is to choose three of the contestants, explain how you've weaponized their costumes, and then send your best one after the Prime Minister of Utopia, while your other two attempt to foil your classmates' own assassin-bots who have been tasked with that same assignment! Begin!"
[Please wait for the OCD up. Ping the OOC thread if you have any questions or if I was in anyway unclear, okay?]
Unlike many of the teachers and townies, 21 and 24 looked cheery and well-rested after their stint in the cabins. In a lot of ways, it was like being back on the Cocoon again. The tiny beds and alcoves felt almost familiar, save they weren't flying through a canyon or being screeched a over the intercom at all hours of the day and night.
Okay, maybe 21 didn't look all that cheery. It was their last class, after all. "Well, class, this is our final afternoon together," he said, a little mournful. "I know it will be rough for you to see us go, after we've spent seven weeks together, molding your minds into keen, arching machines, but, like all good things, this, too, must end. Like the speech in the epic King of the Bracelets--"
"I think they get the point, 21," 24 interrupted, before his companion could wax geekily poetic throughout the entirety of the class period. "So, your final: you are all villains who have infiltrated the National Costumes segment of the Miss Universe pageant. Three of the contestants are secretly your highly-trained assassin-bots and you have designed their costumes to be lethal and deadly somehow." As 24 called their names, the pageant contestants walked out, spun, and paused, showing off their costumes. "Are Miss Belgium's tennis balls secretly bombs? Did you fill Miss Zambia's gourds with some kind of knockout gas? Is Miss Italy's sword real--and how far do you think you'll go if that's her only weapon? For Miss Croatia did you--" 24 stopped and looked at Miss Croatia's costume. "I got nothing."
Miss Croatia swept off the stage in a sulk.
21 finally pulled himself together. "So, your final is to choose three of the contestants, explain how you've weaponized their costumes, and then send your best one after the Prime Minister of Utopia, while your other two attempt to foil your classmates' own assassin-bots who have been tasked with that same assignment! Begin!"
[
