Fandom High School

"So, we're apparently at the end of the term or something," Atton said conversationally, "Time flies, and other platitudes like that. We've covered all our bases these past few weeks, so now we're circling back to the beginning. Though first I'd like to know how your schedule-changing worked out."

He was still sitting on the desk, of course.

"Two, I want to ask you all again: when would you bail? On a fight? On a situation? When would you look at a situation and go 'this is too much, I'm out of here'?"

He clapped his hands and pointed at the screen behind him. "And three, we'll be spending whatever time remains watching this vid about a guy who knows a thing or two about being meticulous, timing your escape, and having fantastic follow-through. Watch and learn."

It was Danger Shop time again-- this time, Atton had snagged the Streets of Fandom program, so they were standing outside a bar that looked a lot like, but wasn't technically, Caritas in the middle of town.

"For anyone who's been keeping track, today we're on follow-through," he said. "This is maybe the most important part. See, when you decide to bail, there's this surge of adrenaline. You get everything in order, and then you get out. But it's easy to crumble when you hit your first real obstacle. If it's the short-term, fleeing the battlefield, well, maybe your friends don't want to go. Maybe they have some stupid reason to try and convince you to keep going."

He shrugged.

"That's scenario one, today," he said, "You can partner up and try to talk each other into leaving. Then follow through on it, head back to the school."

He gestured towards the fake bar. "This is scenario two," he said, "Say you've managed to successfully bail on the long run, but you need to sleep somewhere on the way to your final destination. The people here aren't anyone you know, but they're close enough to where you came from that they might have questions. Or know someone who knew you. Or they might recognize the look of a Fandom High student. Who knows."

He rapped on the bar's door. "If you choose scenario two, you get to go in here and try to remain inconspicuous," he said. "I suggest you work out a story."

"Hey, congratulations," Atton said, "If you're in class right now, I'm going to assume your weekend wasn't traumatic enough to cause you to bail." And that was the end of that lecture.

Honestly, he wasn't sure what exactly had happened. His memories were kind of fuzzy. Which wasn't the greatest place to be in when he was planning to sneak off to go find a mythical planet after class, but that was just the way things worked today, apparently.

"We're on Step Two today," he said. "Tying up loose ends. This is usually the one that seems the hardest, because inevitably you're going to have to cut something loose that you used to have."

Why did that make him think about the weekend? Weird.

"It doesn't need to be anything big," he said. "Maybe you accidentally walked into a fight and what you have to ditch is just whatever feeling is trying to drive you to keep walking into it instead of out. Or maybe a friend's involved, but he's dug himself in so deep that pulling him out is suicide. I know we're all big on 'help out your buddies' around here, but trust me, sometimes the only thing that happens when you get involved is that you bear a copy of the consequences of your buddy's actions. Sometimes getting out of something alive means sacrificing someone to their own hubris, and you need to be strong enough to weather that choice."

He shrugged and sat down on his desk.

"On a larger scale, tying up loose ends means making sure there isn't a trace of you left behind for anyone to follow," he said. "That can be a person - some people are notoriously hard to shake, they'll chase you down to the ends of the galaxy if you don't find a convincing way to cut them loose. Make them hate you, but not too much, or they'll chase you down to get back at you. Make them fear you, but not too much, either, or they might feel they have to protect other people from you." He shrugged. "Or maybe the easiest way is to claim you've got something else going on, clear your place of any sign of where you might be going, and just up and vanish. Maybe your reputation allows you to be callous enough to say 'hey, it's been a nice friendship, but I'm out of here' and have them believe it."

He kicked his feet back against the desk. "The more practical side of it is making sure you can't be followed, period," he said. "Make the date you're leaving as hard to make out as possible. Don't cancel any club memberships you might have, but definitely cancel any newspaper subscriptions. You don't want someone tracking down the exact date you left based on how many of them are lying on your mat. Either take or wreck any technology you have lying around. Don't tell anyone where you're going until you're sure of them, and then wait until a week after you leave anyway. Clear out your fridge. And if you have a job, make sure to give them your two week's notice in time, but tell your friends you took a vacation."

"It's the dirtiest part of leaving," Atton finished up, looking around the class. "It's not fun, it'll probably hurt. But if you don't do it, whatever trouble you're trying to escape will come find you."

He clapped his hands. "So, let's practice the worst part," he said cheerfully. "Find a partner and find a way to convince them to stay off your back permanently while you make your escape."

The classroom was empty at starting time; Atton was nowhere to be found.

It was otherwise a completely normal classroom, albeit anyone trying the windows would find them locked in place.

There was no note, there were no other items, just desks and chairs. And quiet, at least for the moment.