Fandom High School

Today, class was meeting in the Danger Shop. It looked exactly like the normal classroom, except that there was a large wardrobe standing near Callie's desk. It was locked shut, for the moment. Oh, and there were a number of mats in the center of the room, as well, and a clear space left around them.

"Our last class, and the last sin," Callie began. "It's Wrath. You know. Anger. Apparently you're supposed to stay docile while you're also refusing worldly possessions and not having sex. Sounds like a fun time. So if you want to oppose wrath, then you can stand in the center of the room and do yoga. Learn patience. Dull stuff like that."

She smiled, baring her teeth. "Or," she said, "you can let out your inner rage. Anybody up for that?"

She yanked the chest's doors open to reveal a cascade of weapons. Baseball bats, maces, flails, knives, swords, sledgehammers, a world of moddable delights. The only thing that seemed to be missing was projectile weapons, such as guns or crossbows. Sorry, today required getting hands-on.

"Everything in this room is breakable, if you hit it hard enough," she said brightly. "And we're in the Danger Shop so no one accidentally chops anyone else's finger off, and don't do it on purpose or you'll just piss me off. Leave the idiots doing meditation alone, and get breaking."

To illustrate her point, Callie walked over to her desk and pressed a finger to it. An instant later, it burst into flames.

Teaching was such a rewarding experience.

Callie looked the same as ever this week, except that she was doing her best to seem apologetic. "I am so sorry about that terrible class last week," she said. "Needless to say, I was suffering from a rather cruel curse that made me into little more than a puppet."

Callie hadn't been Imperio'd. Ever. She was a demon. She had joined Team Evil free and clear.

"I think we've all suffered a great deal, and I hope we can heal those rifts and move on as quickly as possible. I think the best way to do that would be to just act like last week never happened."

She would sell all of you out for a pile of Tic-Tacs. Any flavor.

( Today we're talking about my favorite sin: Lust )

When class filed in this week, they would spot their teacher sitting on top of her desk, typing furiously into her Blackberry.

Callie was not going to bother starting class until about five past, this week. On principle.

"Sloth," she called out, finally, not looking up from her texting. "The avoidance of work. Laziness. Yet another minor offense makes its way onto the big bad seven. Sometimes, fatigue is your body's way of telling you that you need to rest. People aren't going to turn into useless lumps if they actually take some leisure time. Sounds to me like the people demonizing sloth want the public to be mindless drones, obedient ones that follow orders from sunup to sundown."

She still wasn't looking up from her Blackberry. "I didn't write much for this class," she admitted. "Because it's sloth. If you want to argue that sloth is bad, then I expect you to put the effort into it. And if you don't bother, that means you don't care enough about the so-called sin of avoiding work to actually do any work, which I'm claiming as a win."

Plus it let her get away with not writing a lecture. That was a plus.