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The class met in the danger shop today, which had been programmed to look like a British parlor circa 1900. A table to one side was set up for card games; a piano in the opposite corner was available for anyone who felt like playing music or singing. A table of snacks set off the options nicely.

"Welcome to class," Jack said. "This was a class about non-electronic ways to entertain ourselves, so have ... what maybe the dullest last week of class party many of you will go to. I enjoyed teaching you; I hope you enjoyed being here. Thank you and have fun."

And with that he took a cupcake off the snack table.
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There was a sign on the classroom door directing students out to a side lawn of the school. Once the students were assembled there, they'd find Jack fussing with the last of a series of six hoops.

"This isn't a proper parlour game, but it's certainly a game, and it feels silly to waste a beautiful summer day sitting around playing cards," Jack said. "Today we're playing croquet. Some of you have no doubt played it before. For the rest of you, here's a sheet of rules. The goal is to use the mallet to hit the ball through all of the hoops before anyone else can. So it's a bit like miniature golf, except with goals that stick out of the ground instead of being dug into it."

He went over the rules for a few minutes longer, than stood back. "And now -- time to play."
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The classroom was in its usual configuration this week, but the lights had been turned down and there was soft music playing. The idea was to make it less feel like part of a school, and more like a living room after dinner. (A rather institutional sort of living room, but there was nothing Jack could do about that without bringing the Danger Shop into things.)

"I'm a bit bored with the actual gams, so we're talking about the greatest parlour game of all this week," Jack said. "Flirting. Contrary to what some of you may think, you don't necessarily need to want to go out with someone to flirt with them -- with the right partner, it's just a dance that leaves both people feeling a bit better about themselves than they did when they started talking, even if neither has the slightest actual romantic interest. If it leads beyond that, well ... so much the better."

"When you spot someone who interests you, the first thing to do is to catch their eye. It can be as simple as looking their way and raising your eyebrows, or smiling, and waiting for them to smile back. If they don't, you've likely picked the wrong target and may want to move on. But assuming they do, say hello and then just start chatting. You can talk about anything -- the weather, the weekend, how glad you'll be to sleep in a real bed again. The words are less important than the body language. Someone who leans forward and looks you in the eye is likely engaged; someone who's glancing around the room and folding their arms likely isn't. You also want to be as positive as you can without sounding like a complete nitwit. If you can be funny while you're being critical, or if the joke's mainly on you, it's all right, but for heaven's sake don't be whiny. Or mean. Or pick arguments. Complimenting something about them is good, especially if it's a compliment that shows you're paying attention."

"As things go on, you may want to mirror the other person's body language -- touching your hair when they touch theirs, or dropping your arm to your side when they do. Just -- do it subtly or not at all. Done right, there's nothing more flattering; done wrong, it'll look like you're making fun of them. And if things are going really well, you can introduce physical contact. A tap on the hand or lower arm when you're making a point is usually about all you'd want to do at this stage, and let the other person decide if they want to take it further."

He paused there, hands in his pockets. "Now, go forth and practice flirting."
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The classroom had its usual comfortable configuration with a table of sweets and beverages off to one side, and Jack at the front of the room. If he looked cheerful, it was mainly because he did not have to sleep in a bouncy castle.

"Today, we're back to the games," he said. "Specifically, word games, or games that use language as a toy. Today's game is called The Minister's Cat. I describe the cat with an adjective starting with A, and then we move around the circle to talk about the creature with words starting with B, C, D, and so forth. So, for example, if I said the minister's cat was an amazing cat, the next person might say it's a beautiful cat, and the third that it's a creative cat. If you take too long to think of an adjective, or if you repeat one we've used before, you're out. So to start, the minister's cat is an adorable cat."

And then he gestured to the person on his left, clearly waiting for them to pick it up.
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The classroom was once again set up to resemble a comfortable living space, with soft chairs in a circle and a table at the side with little snacks. But unlike last week, Jack was a tiny bit ... off because of the phase of the moon -- the beast was very close under his skin today. He'd been drinking decaffeinated tea all morning in an effort to soothe himself enough to teach, and it seemed to be working as long as he wasn't provoked.

He very much hoped none of his students provoked him.

"Welcome back," he said. "The game we're playing today is one I'm sure many of you have played before, called twenty questions. Each of you should think of a person, place or thing, and then pair off. The guesser may ask up to twenty questions to figure out what is being thought of; the fewer questions you need to ask, the smugger you can be about guessing right. The questions should almost always be answered with 'yes' or 'no,' though it is permissible to say something like 'it depends' or 'partially' if the question is otherwise unanswerable. Once the first person's object is guessed, switch roles. Settle in, have a snack if you want, and get to playing. I'm here to referee should you need it."

And then he took a long gulp of tea.
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"Welcome to Parlour Games," Jack said, once the class was settled in a standard classroom that had been arranged to look as much like a living room as possible. A couch and some armchairs had been dragged in from some lounge somewhere, and a rug softened the linoleum floor. There was even a side table with a range of hot and cold drinks and small snacks laid upon it.

If the professor was a bit rattled by a few recent voicemails, he was showing absolutely no sign of it as he stood at the front of the group. "My name is Jack Priest. Jack is fine; so is Mr. Priest, or Professor Priest if that's your preference. In this class, we're going to talk about what are called parlour games -- that is, group games played indoors with minimal equipment and absolutely no electronics. I was born in 1881; before I came to Fandom, parlour games were what we did to fill idle evenings when there wasn't anything new to read."

Jack's particular social circle had had a few more interesting hobbies as well, but they were hardly anything to inform a class about.

"We're a fairly small group this time, which is perfect in that it means we can all play together. And for our introductory class, we're playing charades. Normally in charades, each player draws a slip of paper and then has to act out the phrase on the paper. There are some common bits of sign language used, which are on the papers I just passed out. But, as this is our first week, I thought we'd put a twist on it. Each of you, please say your name and then act out one thing about yourself you'd like the class to know. The winner will be whoever guesses the most charades by other students, and your prize is the satisfaction of a job well-done."

He gestured to the first person to his left. "You can start, please."

Fandom High RPG



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