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Class today had been handwavily informed to meet in the Danger Shop where a series of mini-vans were lined up and waiting for them. Clearly this could only end in happiness and laughter as children were always well behaved in a car.

"Welcome back, kiddos!" Deadpool said brightly. "I see you didn't end up dead in a ditch after the weekend holiday. Wait, did we have a holiday? I can't remember. Canadian and all."

“Holiday,” Anakin confirmed, nodding. “Full of screaming, crying roadtrips.”

Spoilers, kids!

The Danger Shop, on cue, started to make it rain. Anakin pulled his hood up over his hair.

Deadpool was grinning that sort of smile that would imply someone would end up dead soon. "You're gonna get put into pairs to act as mommy and daddy. Or daddy and daddy. Mommy and mommy. Nongendered alien and nongendered alien. Whatever. And you're gonna see what fun it is to take care of a screaming ball of rage, apple juice, and vomit is while driving at the saaaame time.”

“It’s not fun.” Yes, Anakin, they got that. From the various vans came the whining pleas of children:

“I’m hungry!”

“I’m thirsty!”

“I haaaaate apple juice!”

“I have to PEE RIGHT NOW.”

Anakin handed the poor students maps, which may or may not have been in English. “You are here. You have to get to the other star on the map without killing your partner, yourself, or any of the children. And you’re also low on gas.”

"Enjooooooy!"

Back in the classroom today, no Fae servants or flesh-eating horses in sight. You're welcome students. This week was something of a break for you. Yes, Trick was still going to tell you about a sinister type of Fae that looked completely normal and yet could do horrible things to many of you without reprisal, but at least you weren't going to have to deal with any of them, either before or after class?

Maybe he was feeling a bit sorry for the last two weeks. Or maybe he was saving up for something extra-special next week. Who knew?

"Mesmers are a type of Fae that gain control over others by manipulating their locomotive systems," Trick began, as he enjoyed starting class on a cheerful note. "Using hand gestures, Mesmers control victims like marionettes; with a simple twirl of their hands, they can force their victims to do any physical action they choose. ( Aren't Fae fun? )

"So, today, we have a discussion class. Sadly, if you find yourself being controlled by a Mesmer, there is little you personally can do about it. However, if someone you know is being controlled, you have a few more options. How would you handle that situation? Are there any times you can imagine a Mesmer's powers being used for good?"

Students arriving in class today would find the Danger Shop set up to look like a perfectly normal, albeit brightly colored apple orchard.

Or, well, perfectly normal albeit brightly colored if you left out the apples so large they were bending the treetops to the ground, the corn field rapid-firing popped kernels at the students, or the cotton candy clouds pouring down chocolate milk rain. Or, say, the rampaging long-legged rabbits, balletic buffalo, floating pies and checkerboard hills.

Were all those there a minute ago?

"Omigosh!" Pinkie cried, prancing from hoof to hoof and doing her best not to get distracted by chocolate milk puddles and floating pies. "Would you look at this place? It's like someone punched the nonsense button on the Danger Shop! But believe it or not, this is just what my home, Ponyville, once looked like, thanks to an ancient force of Chaos out for revenge, Discord!"

An evil laugh echoed through the Danger Shop as a towering draconequus appeared from a ball of light. "That's right, everypony!" he crowed. "And now it's your job to help get rid of me! But watch your backs, I'm very tricky!" And he vanished from sight again, just in time for the sun to set and the road the students stood on to turn to wet soap.

Pinkie glided back a few steps. "You heard him!" she said. "You've got to work out how to get rid of him and get Ponyville back to normal! . . . Or you could just hang out and enjoy the popcorn and chocolate rain. I know which one I'm gonna do!"

[ooc: OCD is coming CHAOS!]

Today it was not William in front of the class with an incredibly detailed lecture prepared. Seriously, what was that, William?

Instead, there was Holmes. And an unlit pipe. Barbaric rules about smoking in public in this era. Simply barbaric.

"Today we discuss mannerisms," he informed the class. "Physical markers that set you apart, or will be used to make you appear to be another. For example, they way you carry yourself. What is your posture like? Do you slouch or carry yourself like a proper, stiff backed military man? Walk with a limp? All of these are easy to accomplish, but difficult to maintain without more practice than I dare say any of you willing to put in."

He placed a small stone and a wooden ruler on the table. "In a pinch, you can force your body to accomplish the goal with minor adjustments. A pebble in your boot will alter your steps and, of course, hurt quite a bit. Pain is a useful tool in disguise, I have found, though. Use it if you must. Avoid it if you can."

Said the guy who allowed himself to be tortured with a meat hook to pick pocket someone.

The ruler, on the other hand, is more restriction of movement. Strapped into place along the small of your back, it will prevent your posture from slipping without you noticing. I want you to find a classmate and think of another device you can find anywhere on hand to have similar effects on your movements."

Kennedy had left emails and written notes for all the students instructing them to meet in the Danger Shop per usual-- and that they should prepare to get soaked and better not wear anything that couldn't handle water.

Why would be evident as soon as they arrived and found themselves on the pebbled bank of a broad river; a number of rafts, big enough to hold about two people each, lay on the riverbank not too far away. There were some poles on the riverbank too, but not enough for all the rafts; you could say the same for thir coils of rope. Life vests, on the other hand, were plentiful in case anyone needed one. Given the way the river was fairly calm in some spots but eddied and swirled pretty heavily in others, particularly near the clusters of rocks that broke the water's surface here and there, the vests might be a good idea, eyesearingly orange as they were.

"You know that whole saying about how there's no 'I' in team?" asked Kennedy, who was standing ankle deep in the water with her hands in her pockets. "Kind of cliche, I know, but that's gonna be your big rule to live by today. If you're gonna get things done as a group, you need to be on the same page. Maybe you're not gonna agree all the time? Hell, maybe under normal circumstances you actually can't stand each other. In which case you might just have to suck it up and deal until you get out of trouble."

Not that she'd know from experience or anything. Ahem.

"Case in point: getting from this side of the river to that side. Groups of six-- that's including Bobby and Squall here-- and two to a raft. Either your whole group makes it across, or you have to start over... and watch out for the fish. They don't bite, but they are kinda aggressive with the leaping." She waved a hand toward the rafts. "Good luck."

[[ocd up. have at!]]

Electroclash was idly playing with her phone as the students filed in. If it constituted as playing that she kept saying "|phone send text|" every ten seconds or so. If it was a game, it was probably called Let's Bug Alex Until He Responds, The Miserable Git. She was yet to get a hold of him, yep. Once it looked like everyone was here (they weren't, but everyone knew how little she cared), though, she left the phone be for a while, and even got up from her chair, scooping some stuff up from the desk.

"Today, trading cards," she announced, as she handed a stack of trading cards to the nearest student, to be passed out randomly among the class. "Those are some examples from back home. Dunno how familiar you are with the basic concept, but basically the idea is to collect them because you have nothing better to do, and you like to pretend you're still too cool for stamps – which, by the way, you're usually not."

To be fair, Electroclash had never really seen the point of collecting anything, ever.

"From a hero perspective, they're part of your public image. It's a way for your face to be out there. Personally, I find it a bit shit and borderline degrading, 'cause the stats you get for your recognition factor and whatever are usually utter bollocks, but I don't make these decisions, and it makes for an easy class assignment." Fear, class. "Two weeks ago, I had you take promo photos. Since then, I've picked my favourites and had a trading card made for each and every one of you."

She picked up another stack of trading cards, and gave those out to be passed out as well.

"As you can see, they're blank except for your picture ––" Which was without fail the worst one they'd taken two weeks ago. "–– and your name ––" Which was whatever codename she had given them in the first session – in Bucky's case, Annoying Cat. "–– so the rest is up to you. Fill your cards in, and try to be honest. No one here has Excelsor's recognition factor, or the world's most fascinating fucking origin story. When you're done, you can present your card to the class. Now get to it."

She went back to harassing Alex, in the meantime.

[OCD up!]

Summer was feeling under the weather today much like her mun, so she sent out a handwaved e-mail to her students, letting them know to meet in the classroom.

She had the DVD player set up and ready to go, with some moddable drinks and snacks set out to munch on. Instead of desks, she had various pillows and cushions on the floor.

"Today, I thought we could spend our time watching a film, detailing the history of surfing -- how it all began. Feel free to grab some snacks, get comfy and enjoy the movie. If you have any questions, I'm here to answer them."

[OCD coming up!]

Bond had a movie playing for his class this week. A completely relevant to the subject movie which was no doubt full of good advice. Somehow. Possibly.

Look, just watch and eat your popcorn.

[ooc: wait for ocd up]

[Class Roster|Class Rules]

"So, say you've managed to exchange meaningful glances with the object of your affections," Dojima chirpped as the students took seats. "So, it's time for the next step - actually saying something to them."

"That's right, the fine art of making small talk while flirting. You don't want to jump right into your life story and scare them off."

"Or, more like," Romeo said, as he slid off the desk, "bore them to tears. Everyone has some long, sad story, and those are fit best for whispering late at night. At first meeting, your goal is to amuse."

"Things that will not amuse," Dojima agreed, starting to tick things off on her fingers. "Weather. Booooooooring. Unless it's raining Drop Bears. Cafeteria food, unless it's actually sentient that day. Allergies, unless you're allergic to chocolate, because that's never NOT funny."

"How much you love your parents," Romeo added. "Or how much you hate them. What you did at the gym that morning, unless you saw the other person there. You want to be light, charming.
Someone the other person will want to talk to more -- or possibly drag off into a stairwell somewhere, if you're fortunate."

Yes, this was their idea of wooing and romance, people. There had been an incident at Caritas in the bathroom for Dojima's birthday one year, after all....

"Pay attention to their non-verbal cues," she suggested. "If something isn't taking, don't be afraid to change tactics, or excuse yourself politely and retreat for a better opportunity."

"And if you can't come up with anything to say but they seem receptive, don't be afraid to touch," Romeo said. "A gentle look and a hand on the arm can say more than five million poems."

[OOC: OCD GO!]

When the students all go there today, they'd find Jaye starting with, "Hope you all had a good day off- Oh wait, we don't get holidays off here. Nevermind."

She'd have been bitching up a storm if her class had been on a Monday this session. Seriously.

"Anyway, today you get to show me what you got for last week's prompt of 'turtles and/or pies.' And for next week, you're going to show me.... architectural photos. Of buildings and stuff." Like Jaye had a plan before she came in here. "And has no one really gotten a gremlin bite picture yet? This is week four? Stir things up, you guys, it's for extra credit. God."

"You're walking down the street," Ronan said, and around the class the Danger Shop took the appearance of a city street. "It's late-ish -- say ten o'clock. You're on your way to a club, or just leaving the theatre. Maybe you're meeting friends for coffee, or you just had dinner with your parents.

"And across the street, you hear someone shout for help. Looking over, you can see something going on in an alley across the street. What do you do?"

Ronan made a small gesture with his hand, and somewhere across the street, behind the crowds walking down the other sidewalk, a small scuffle began in the alleyway; someone screamed.

"If you're like most people," Ronan continued, "the more people who are around, the less likely that you'll help. This is called the 'bystander effect'."

The screams continued. "So," he said, raising an eyebrow at the class. "Are you going to help, or not?"

[Wait for OCD is up!]

Today in the library, apparently the books regarding early exploration in Canada wanted some attention. No matter how many times William put them away, the moment he turned his back they'd be back on the circulation desk.

After flipping through a couple of them, he decided that a few books refusing to be shelved was better than something like a river suddenly appearing in the library.

...Of course, now he was going to keep an eye out in case that happened to appear.

The classroom was dark today as Yakko stood at the front of the room somberly. From the darkness behind him, The Battle Hymn of the Republic started playing.

"Shortly after the American Civil War, Washington DC established a new federal holiday to commemorate the soldiers who gave their lives for their country. This day, originally called Decoration Day, slowly turned into something more. Instead of just commemorating those who lost their lives in the Civil War, a new day, Memorial Day, started celebrating those lost in all wars. In 1971, the day was moved to the final Monday of May every year, where we still celebrate it today...."

The lights turned on, showing a large BBQ grill behind Yakko. "...Mostly with cookouts! Since the day's part of a three day weekend at the end of May, Memorial Day is considered the unofficial start of summer and an excuse to get people together and feed them food off the grill."

Yakko put on an apron and chef's hat before spraying an ungodly amount of lighter fluid onto the grill, dropping a pre-lit match into the grill, ducking back to dodge the rush of fire that somehow didn't trigger the sprinklers, and he started throwing various foods into the flames.

"Sure, there's still plenty of memorials going on, but mostly it's a day for parades, sales, remembering the Indy 500 yesterday, concerts, and so much food! So let's celebrate the modern way. FOOD'S UP!"

Yakko grabbed a plate and swept it across the grill, somehow scooping up all of the perfectly cooked food on it with one swoop.

Apparently that was the class activity today. Chow down!

"So you've gotten around to the naked bits," Jeff began.

Sitting in front of every student was a dress-up doll and a bunch of stickers with numbers on them. This was going to go marvelously well, obviously.

"Congratulations," he added, whole-heartedly, and gave them both thumbs up. "But! Now comes the really tricky bit." Because clearly things hadn't been tricky enough up to this point. "Clothes! There's a lot that can go really really wrong when you're taking your clothes off. And I'm not just talking about getting stuck in your own trousers and falling off the bed or anything, because that's the advanced stuff. No, I'm talking about the really elementary thing, the overlooked problem that could send you soaring screaming to apocalyptic doom: Socks!"

Anyone who'd paid attention to their dolls might at this point notice that they were, in fact, all also wearing socks. That amount of attention to detail was what made Jeff's class what it was, all right?

"The most important question when you're about to get with someone is this. When do you take your socks off? The timing is critical. It's got to be after your shoes, obviously, but before your pants, because otherwise you're a naked man in socks--"

Beat.

"Or a naked woman in socks. Actually, I'm not sure how this works for women exactly, but I can tell you this: no woman would let a naked man in socks do the squelchy with her. This is the Sock Gap, the most deadly trap in all the realms of earthly delights. Don't laugh! Many men have fallen through it before you. Maybe many women have, too."

He gestured with abandon as he spoke. "The corpses of a million squelchy bits lay here in this naked pit of Socks!" he announced. "And only you have the power to keep yourself from joining them!"

He picked up a sheet of stickers. "You have three minutes," he said, "To label all the items of clothing on the dolls in the order you would have to take them off to avoid falling into the Sock Gap, or tying up your legs and falling off, or getting stuck in the Prison of Sleeves-- there are many ways to wander off the path, students! You will not do so on my watch!"

... Yes.

Thank you, Jeff.

Class today was meeting at the Causeway, where Callie had arranged a portal. Once everyone had arrived -- or, really, enough people for Callie to assume that that was everyone -- the students would be ushered through. On the other side, they would find themselves standing at the top of a very, very tall purple-colored escalator, in what appeared to be a cave with fire-engine-red walls.

( Shopping Trip in Hell )

And with that, she seated herself on the nearest bench and began punching numbers into her Blackberry. She'd give her students a minute or two, in case any of them had questions. And once they had dispersed, then she was going to Scarbucks for a latte.

After shelving books that had been returned after the library had closed yesterday, Raven settled at the front desk to do a little research. Well, if by "research" one meant "listen to music." She'd heard a reference to "hair bands" some time ago and was curious just what that was supposed to mean (other than something to hold back her hair). She had earbuds in so as not to flood the library with music, and after a short time had come to conclusion that hair band meant "loud" and the musicians definitely were proud of their long, wild hair.

Then she stumbled across "power ballads," and she was going to be happily listening all day long.

The Danger Shop had been arranged to appear like a room inside a castle today, with one long table with benches on either side taking up the center of the room and faded tapestries hung from the walls. Goblets of water and place settings at each seat might give students some idea that this was to be a feast.

"Welcome," Tyrion said, once the students seemed more or less settled in their places. "Last week, we covered dancing -- and I thank my assistants much for that. Today, we will talk about another sort of event: The formal dinner. Honestly, these things can be deadly in more than one way, so what you're mainly trying to do is get out alive, healthy, and without any new enemies."

( A table manners lesson. )

He took his place at the head of the table, unfurled his napkin. "And now we will begin."

Oz was nowhere to be seen when his class arrived at the Danger Shpo, but there was a screen and projector set up outside the wagon, with a note attached.

Watch the film

There was also a bag of unpopped popcorn. It too had a note.

Make popcorn if you want.

[Post away]

Once Billy had gotten settled in behind the desk, he got onto the computer, and started researching everything he could find on goats. He didn't know if they'd be visiting again, and god knew that punching goats probably wasn't the normal way to handle them, but he liked being prepared just in case, okay?

"We come into life shaped in a certain way," Ender began. Outside again: the weather continued to work with him, which pleased him. Even if there were dark clouds on the horizon. ( On transformation. )

“Today, we’re taking a slightly different look at art. I want you to pair up, and this is part an example of expression, and part a trust exercise, so pick your partners wisely.” On the tables in front of them they would find a variety of tubes and pots. “On the side you’ll find some henna,” and she picked up a tube to illustrate. “Most of you probably know it, but for those who don’t, it’s been used in many cultures in their body art since the bronze age, right up to today when it’s going to be used by us.”

Angela continued for a few moments about the preparation and history and passed out a few examples she’d printed off and showed the back of her own hand as a ‘this is what I did earlier’ example. “You can use these as some inspiration, but also bear in mind you should be trying to reflect something of your partner in there.” Hopefully. But she supposed that depended on how well this lot knew each other. “It’s all non-permanent and should wash off, but you can still have a little practice on a piece of paper first. I know some of these are really intricate, and I don’t expect you all to spend hours on this, but since you will be drawing on someone else, you should probably take requests.”

“If you can’t work a henna tattoo.” Say if you had fur. “It also can be used as a dye, so you can go red for a little while.” You know, if you weren’t already like say Angelica. “And if you don’t want any of your classmates or there’s just an odd number, I’m around too.”

Class was taking place in the Danger Shop today. That was different, though it had been planned. Class was also apparently starting ten minutes late, which was also different and completely unplanned. It was a rather annoyed looking Trick who eventually opened the door to let all the students (and their Brownie companions) into the shop, muttering something about goat in the simulation interspersed with foreign words.

( Don't worry, kids. Just ancient Celtic swears, nothing to see here. )

"Kelpies are far more dangerous than their pwca cousins. They are water-horses, which means you will often find them close to large, deep bodies of water. Once you climb onto their backs, you cannot get down again until they choose to release you. Which they will--after they have dragged you down to the bottom of the closest lake or river and drowned you. They only release their magic after you're dead, so they can eat you." Cheerful, no? "These days, random horses are rarer and most people don't ride, so they take the form of naked youths in ponds, pretending to drown and calling for help. If you see someone drowning with kelp in their hair, think before you rush in and try to save them. Not acting might doom an innocent person to their death. Playing the hero might doom you." Trick looked very serious for a moment, and then added, "Unfortunately, there's no easy way to tell a leanan sidhe from the human she's pretending to be. Doing so takes magic of your own. So my only suggestion for dealing with them is to be very careful who you trust and read your contracts very closely."

The room was filled with the sound of wailing babies and toddlers, and was definitely more pungent than usual.

Be afraid, children. Be very afraid.

"Ah, the smell of fresh diapers in the morning. Don'tcha love it?" Deadpool said brightly. "It's like sitting in New Jersey."

“Or Nar Shaddaa during the humid season,” Anakin said because that would help anyone but Atton. “Clearly the children can’t stay like this. You could try to potty train them but that, frankly, takes the kind of alcohol we can’t provide to students.”

Deadpool nodded enthusiastically at that. "There was this time with Jan--wait, you kids don't need to know that story. Cliff Notes: we had to get a new couch."

Ew.

"So, you all are gonna learn how well a kid who is old enough to walk around does when you have to change them. Here's a hint: not well. Hint number two: oh god, what is that brown smudge on the wall? Hint three: It's not chocolate."

“Ew,” Anakin said, making a face. “That was not my modification. Also Juliet peed on the dog last week. I’m not sure who was more upset--there was a lot of crying from everyone.”

"Ooo! Ooo! The dog," Deadpool suggested. "I know the score here."

They were the worst teachers ever on this subject, you know. Or the best. One of those two.

“Anyway,” Anakin said. “This is a diaper.” He held one up. “The tabby things go around their waists. Do not substitute or augment with duct tape, staples, or--no matter how much they beg--sparkly princess stickers.”

Deadpool made a sad face at the no on duct tape being used. Because it was amazing, Anakin. Amazing. "Soooo, you kids are gonna practice on some children who have not had naps and drank way too much apple juice leading up to this. Because it's not a challenge without adding a few fun things in there."

“If you must, you may watch a brief instructional video for more details,” Anakin concluded. Too bad it was about making a baby out of diapers instead of diapering a baby.

Oops?

Students coming into the Danger Shop today would find it set up like a mad scientist's workshop, complete with buzzing tesla coils, a jacob's ladder, and strange looking amorphous bits floating in jars. Pinkie herself sat behind an old rolltop desk, wearing a giant white beard and poking her hoof at an extremely old telephone. A freestanding roll chart stood behind her.

"Welcome, everypony! Today's class will be an adventure indeed, filled with passion! Intrigue! Racing! And -- goats?!"

That last bit came out as a horrified squeal when the Danger Shop was suddenly invaded by a tribe of evil goats. They stormed through the door, knocking over equipment and floaty jar things with wild abandon, knocking poor Pinkie off her chair and gleefully eating her antique telephone and free standing roll chart.

It was all extremely terrible, especially considering how the roll chart had been full of fun facts about Alexander Graham Bell, like the fact that he came from a family of elocutionists and had become fascinated with sound transmission and communication in part thanks to his deaf mother and wife. Or the fact that he narrowly beat out Elisha Gray for the patent for the telephone, some said by nefarious means. Or how he went on to work on many other projects, making contributions in the fields of magnetism, aeronautics, and medicine (though some of his contributions to the later weren't all sunshine and rainbows!). It was, in fact, a well thought out and put together presentation full of detail (gleaned from Wikipedia) and not too many assumptions, beyond the mad scientist setting, but no one would ever see it, because of the evil, evil goats.

It was punching time.

[ooc: Yeah, I totally couldn't resist. Goats are moddable, and OCD is up!]

As everyone came into class today they would notice two things: one, that on every desk there was a single, face-down index card, and two, the Victorian-era detective at the front of the classroom today was not the usual one. Technically, he wasn't actually a detective, but rather an aspiring one. But whatever.

"Mr. Holmes is, at the moment, indisposed," William informed the class. 'Indisposed' was really just a nice way of saying 'distracted by some experiment and completely forgot he had a class to teach'. But that's why he had a TA! "And so it falls to me to teach today's lesson. Which is on stereotypes." He cleared his throat and tugged a bit on the hem of his jacket before continuing. "A stereotype is a standardized and simplified conception of people based on prior assumptions. It differs from a prejudice in that a prejudice is a feeling regarding a person or persons. The difference is reflected in the etymology - the Greek stereos, or firm, and typos, or impression, and the Latin pre, or before, and judicium, judgement. So the former is a firm impression, the other a pre-judgement."

"Stereotypes exist for a reason, and having an understanding of those stereotypes can help us blend in when we find ourselves in situations where people of that particular group may be present. Upon your desks you will find a card, and if you flip over that card, you will find that you have been assigned a role. Your task is to use the totally moddable costume rack at the back of the room to craft an appropriate representation of what you perceive to be a stereotype regarding your assigned role." He paused, considering. "I realize many of these are somewhat specific to a current-era Earth context. If you require assistance, I am of course happy to provide an explanation, and you are welcome to help each other out as well."

[ooc: ocd-acomin all done! posted for the drowning-in-work onemoreproblem.]

The students would find themselves on a desert island, surrounded by a clear blue ocean, the surf mild. Summer was already in the water, sitting on her board.

"I thought today, we could just spend the period practicing techniques and just getting used to using your boards in the water. If you want to learn something more or have any questions, I'll be happy to answer them for you."

[OCD is up.]

Today, the class was meeting in the Danger Shop, which had been preprogrammed so that it was already something other than just a room by the time the students filed in. It looked a lot like a street in contemporary London, in fact.

So why was their uniform-clad instructor looking even pissier than usual? Probably because the simulated passers-by were giving her odd looks and not-so-discretely pointing at her costume, occasionally whispering amonst themselves, and snickering.

"Right, today we were supposed to do a simulation where you do a heroic act on the street, and then try to generate as much good press as you can from it afterwards," Electroclash drawled. "But since the fucking machine in this room refused to cooperate ––" Or maybe she'd spilled coffee on something, causing it to go on the fritz until it'd dry. They'd never know! "–– you're just gonna have to walk around a quote unquote normal, capeless London."

Which explained the sims' attitude towards her costume. You could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

"Well, get to it, then."

[OCD up!]

The Danger Shop was set up to look like a park today... if the park had been designed by someone with a really strange sense of fun. For one, halfway between the playground-- which was where the students would find themselves upon arriving-- and the picnic area stood a small but twisty maze of shrubbery. Just past the maze was a very large (but shallow) patch of muddy ground, and on the far side of the picnic area stood a tall, smooth-barked tree. Anyone listening closely, or who happened to have enhanced hearing, might be able to pick up on faint but plaintive mewing from up in the branches.

"So what are you gonna do when you have a thing come up unexpectedly, and you have to solve it with a quickness?" Kennedy began conversationally. "No time for research or making plans, and maybe you're in over your head because this is something you've never had to deal with before? In a group, that is. By yourself is different. I mean, the thinking on your feet is the same, but there's a whole thing about communicating and being on the same page as other people that makes things tricky."

She turned around and waved a hand at the setup in front of them. "So here's your sitch. You have a big important party to get to in an hour. Real fancy, black tie, missing it is not an option, oh, and you're already dressed up and on your way there. Except there's one problem. That cat stuck in the tree? Supposed to be a present for the guest of honor. You're gonna need to get it out of there... and you need to go through all of this to do it. Could get messy if you're not careful. Good luck with that."

Inspired by something she'd had to do last week? Maybe, yeah.

She paused as if remembering something, then added, "And watch out for the random clay guys lurking in the maze. They're not very friendly."

[[ocd up, up and away...]]

"Let's talk about cell phones," Steve announced today. "By now you have probably been introduced to the concept, if not, a telephone is a device that allows you to communicate instantaneously with people over long distances, and they've been around for over a hundred years, so some of you are probably already familiar, while the cell phone is a wireless version you can carry with you anywhere. They're a relatively new invention, only really becoming widespread around the turn of the century. Most have additional features, such as a camera and the ability to connect to the internet, and some go even further.

( Cell Phone Blee )

Bond had his class meet him in the Danger Shop again this week, which was set up as a computer lab. If they were wondering why they weren't having class in an actual computer lab, the fact the computers were rather ...beige might have been a clue.

"Good afternoon class," Bond greeted them. "You might be wondering what computers have to do with survival skills, but there are certain useful skills you can help develop by playing video games. I'm hardly talking the murder-simulator nonsense certain groups like to harp on about, but you can improve your reactions and hand-eye coordination, as well as certain kinds of situational awareness or modes of thinking, depending on the game in question."

"So let's begin."

Bond turned on the computers and the glorious sound of Ad Lib and SoundBlaster filled the air.

[ooc: wait for ocd up]

[Class Roster|Class Rules]

Class met in a standard classroom today, albeit one with a number of phrases scrawled on the backboard. Top to bottom, the students might read: ( Cut for poetry & Taylor Swift warning. )

"So today, you're to write a love poem of your own. If you feel you cannot write -- and I believe you can, but we will not force you to -- you may research and find a poem you can imagine sharing with one you love. Song lyrics are a form of poetry, you know."

"Don't just pick something that sounds pretty, pick something that means something to you, or reminds you of him, her, or it. You'll score brownie points if it's clear you mean it," Dojima finished.

"Thank you for not having hooves today," Jaye said when class started, then looked around to see whether anyone actually did have them or not. "Anyway, last week your prompt was animal transformations and the island was really nice to you."

But not to Jaye, who'd spent the weekend handwavily as a pony using a squirrel helper to take her pictures for her.

"So you're going to show what you've gotten in the last week, and then your prompt for next week is..." She had no idea. She'd been an orange pony all weekend and she was a procrastinator, what did you expect? "Pie. Or turtles. Or both. It's a prompt, do with it what you will."

Today, the class had handwavily been told to meet in the Danger Shop. When they got there, they would find themselves in a replica of a park, surrounded by skyscrapers; those from this world might recognize it as NYC's Central Park. Their teacher was standing before a replica of Bethesda Fountain, typing away on her Blackberry; perched on the Angel of the Waters sculpture were three creatures. They stood as tall as the average human, and nearly looked human -- flabby torso, legs -- except for the heads and wings, which looked like birds of prey. They only wore socks, so when the Manbirds shifted on their perches, you could see a long, feathery appendage dangling between their legs -- not their genitalia. Just the tube that protected it.

( Don't Feed the Manbirds )

"Last thing. Next week, bring some money -- yours, or if you don't have any, someone else's. We're going shopping. In Hell."

William had spent the weekend handwavily as a pony, running various sorts of endurance and strength tests on himself. As one did.

Today, he was back in the library as usual for a Monday, and while the thunderstorms had thankfully cleared up, they'd been replaced by rainbows.

The library was open, and colourful!

Ronan was looking a little tired this week, at the front of the class; the TV and DVD player beside him indicated exactly how tired he probably was.

"Movie week this week," he said shortly, shrugged. "Sorry, guys. But this film has a lot to say about choices, on a lot of different levels: the choice to fight, the choice to give up... I don't agree with every choice made. But I can see why the characters chose the way they did."

[Wait for OCD is up!]

"So you've said hello and you've done the NAT thing and everything," Jeff began, "and then things start moving along, you know? Like it's an actual relationship and the girl-- or boy-- actually really likes you. And it seems like bliss, you know? Someone has actively passed you the keys to paradise." He gestured to make this clear. "And you're ready. You're really really ready. But!"

He slammed his hands down on the desk.

"There's the elephant in the room, isn't there?" he said. "There's always going to be an elephant. Staring at you. Waving around its voyeuristic trunk of life-destruction."

Yes, he was illustrating that with his hands, too.

"Because see, at the beginning, at the very start, you were so nervous, you told this one terrible lie. This one horrible, wretched thing that is now devouring you from both ends and fusing your poor pants to your valuables!"

Getting a bit too graphic now, Jeffrey.

"And you know you can't have sex with her or she'll find out what's going on in your drawers and she'll run really fast and leave you alone again, but you can't not have sex with her either because she's your girlfriend, but she doesn't know yet, so she's like, she's, like--" His voice was starting to go shrill, "Schroedinger's girlfriend!"

He made a little choking noise.

"What do you do?" he declared to the class. "What. Do you. Do?!"

There was a long silence.

Which grew longer. And longer. And longer.

Okay, so maybe Jeff didn't have an answer to that.

Finally, he just produced a very large glass jar with a lot of notes in it and gestured at it. He was clearly having trouble speaking, but surely they could divine the meaning of this test now, right?

( Possible notes ranked one to ten. )

Today's class began without Yakko at the front of the room. But it DID feature him doing a voiceover seconds after the lights went out.

"The year was 2012. There was a workshop at a big fancy high school on a small fancy island called Steven Spielberg's Presents: History. A lone genius named Yakko decided to make that class title a little more literal than usual just for one week."

"And so this week, Yakko Warner Presents: A Historical Film By Steven Spielberg: One of the Illinois Smith Movies!"

A flashlight turned on by the students' desks, shining a bright light on the whiteboard. And then Yakko started performing a half-remembered compilation of all four Illinois Smith movies with scenes in random orders, some characters missing entirely, and some clearly replaced with Yakko playing himself. And it was all done with shadow puppets.

It was probably best to just accept that there was no physical way for Yakko to be doing the highly complicated shadow puppets he was making with his hands. Otherwise, your poor brains would probably be shattered by the opening titles sequence, which featured detailed credits, all in the proper fonts and logos despite Yakko not using any props. But frankly, the fight scene with the Nazi aliens in the nightclub while a teenage greaser kept signing 'no no no no no no no no' was probably the most impressive part, since that would have required at least seven hands more than Yakko had.

He kept this up for the whole class period. At no point did the presentation seem to approach an actual ending.

[OOC: I worked 13 hours today and didn't get home until just before midnight. And Monday's going to be nuts. So this is the best I can do at the moment. Sorry about that.]

Due to Karla and Warren transforming, Raven knew to expect ponies when she returned to Fandom for her library shift. She'd brought with her sugar cubes and a basket of apples and carrots for any hungry ponies who possibly couldn't bring themselves to munch on grass, and she set these out near the door. Then she settled behind the desk with her laptop to catch up on anything she'd missed over the week.

It took a lot to keep Cassidy from showing up to a shift at the library.

Fortunately, finding herself suddenly turned into a pony was not on the list of things that would stop her.

She managed to use Craft to do something with all of the hair she had with the mane and tail and then headed out to the library. Rather than getting overly upset about the lack of opposable thumbs today to open doors with, she used Craft to pass herself through the walls.

Once in the library, she did her best to sort out which books went where and then floated them to their positions.

Sometimes, it was a good thing she was such a cheerful person all of the time. She knew she would be teling Karla about this and sending her photos because she thought she made a cute pony. She wondered how much begging she would need to do to keep Karla from showing Morton, though...

The library is open and the Cassidy Pony will do her best to help you!

It was not Tyrion at the front of the class today, but two wolves and an assassin.

Weren't they lucky students?

"The Professor," Firekeeper said, "have been stuck elsewhere. So today, you get us."

"No matter the world, or the court," Surreal supplied, "One thing will always remain constant: at some point, you will be expected to dance."

"She speak truth," Firekeeper said with a nod. "So today, we are going to teach you a simple spring festival dance." ...For varying definitions of ‘simple’, of course. "Outside."

"Which means, of course, out of your seats," Surreal prodded, starting to usher people towards the door. "Layabouts."

It was how she showed affection. Really.

Once they were outside, the students would see a large, thin tree that the girls had co-opted into their temporary maypole, having tied long ribbons on to a wreath which Surreal had placed up at its crown.

"It is spring," Firekeeper announced. "And in one of the kingdoms of my world, this mean it is time for the Rabbit Moon dance. Lucky for you, is very close in form to a dance from this world called ‘Maypole’. So, we shall do that." She picked up a ribbon, while Blind Seer grasped another in his jaws. And gave the class a look that just dared anyone to laugh.

"We have a similar one, in Hayll," Surreal shared, going over to poke at the little CD player. "It's not hard - the goal is to weave it around the tree. Over, under, over... until it's all tied up." Or until your classmates were.

Once the music started, Firekeeper and Blind Seer (well, mostly Firekeeper, Blind Seer’s legs weren’t exactly designed for human dances) demonstrated the appropriate dance steps as well as the technique for weaving the ribbons together. Once they were satisfied that the students understood the steps, they dropped the ribbons and gestured for the class to come take over.

[ooc: OCD up! Posted for the fabulous halfman_lion who's in internet exile atm, woe.]

Today Oz's class found themselves back in their covered wagon, which now smelt of wet oxen. Probably because it was raining outside of the wagon. As each student entered, Oz pressed a slip of paper into their hand.

"Welcome back, kids," he greeted them. "In the time since our last class, you've been making good time along your journey. Or at least you started to after Laurie found the map and you realised you were headed slightly off course. Otherwise it has been quiet and without incident, though it has been raining the last few days, and since you can neither hunt trade or cook in this weather, you've been on short rations and tempers are beginning to wear thin. Now if you could just glance at the slips of paper I gave you and then eat them?"

After they'd done so, Oz continued. "This morning, when Fortunate went to give everyone their breakfast, the biscuit tin was empty. Turns out someone was snacking out of turn, and it was the person with a dot on their paper."

"So, how do you figure out who stole the cookie from the cookie jar? And what do you do about it?"

[Post away]

The great thing about working in the library was that Billy could look at whatever books he wanted, and not feel weird about just wandering through the shelves looking for something interesting. Today, he had an introductory book on sign language, just for fun and to see if he could learn anything in a day. So far, he was getting the alphabet down pretty well.

It was still nice weather out, and so Ender had decided to hold class in the exact same spot that he'd done last week. He came a little later this time, though, giving the students time to situate themselves and maybe get some talking started before he had to start talking.

( I'd like to start by talking about something Britta raised the other week. )

The art room was set out a little more normally than last week. No coffee this time, because it really didn’t go very well with practical art. You could not imagine the number of times Angela had almost drunk dirty paint water.

Not that anyone would find that a problem today. In this case, it would be dirty clay water, which was almost as bad.

“Today, we are experimenting with pottery,” Angela announced. “Which I think you’ll love. I hope you all paid attention to the sign up note about wearing clothes that can get dirty.” Clay dust got everywhere.

“The preparation is almost the best part of this, and the most therapeutic, because it basically amounts to hitting some clay”, and Angela launched into an explanation of some different varieties of kneading and exactly why she thought this was remotely relevant to art therapy. “Once you’re happy with your air bubble-less clay, and you’ve taken any bad feelings out on the stuff, you can get to making something. I don’t mind what, just relax, let your mind wander, and whatever flows, flows. Later you can pair up and talk about what you’ve made.” Or whatever else, because like anyone would stick on topic

“I’ll get it all fired by next week and you can keep it.” If it turned out respectably and people wanted their stuff. “Remember to put a hole in the bottom if it’s not a pot, or it could explode and that’s never pretty.” Never.

“Okay, collect some clay and a tub of tools and get kneading.”

Trick was not alone in the classroom today. There was a small, dapper little man standing with him, still slightly taller than Trick himself.

"Good morning, class," he said as the students filed in. "I would like to introduce you to my friend, Mumford." Mumford smiled at them, giving the students a bashful wave. "Mumford is a kind of Fae known as a Brownie. They are the Scottish and Northern English counterpart of the Scandinavian tomte, the Slavic domovoi and the German Heinzelmännchen. Brownies and their kin are incredibly helpful and friendly, excelling at cooking, cleaning, and chores, as well as an amazing ability to find bargains and deals on everything, including the latest in haute couture. Most wealthy Fae families employ several Brownies, as both domestic staff and personal shoppers."

Mumford smiled again and added, "We try to stay out of the way. Mostly, we work at night. So quiet, they never even know we're there."

Trick nodded. "Brownies adopt houses that they then look after. They have a very well-developed sense of responsibility and, traditionally, would come out at night to watch over farm animals, reap, thresh, sow, run errands, and generally make themselves indispensable. They willingly do the work left undone by the other servants--" Mumford snorted at that, a tiny little hmph! of disdain. "--though may plague them for their idleness if it seems to be deserved."

They also didn't handle extended idleness well, as Mumford wandered away to behind Trick's desk and began compulsively tidying it up. Trick just gave a good-natured sigh and continued his lecture. "Traditionally, Brownies ate bowls of cream or best milk, and cakes or porridge smeared with honey. These days, however, they've mostly updated and eat cereal." He pulled out a box of Honey Berry Crunch, causing Mumford to run back over, making grabby hands. "They have a long and fruitful relationship with humans, one of the few Fae races to do so, throughout history."

After getting his box of Honey Berry Crunch, Mumford practically skipped over to the door of the classroom and opened it. More Brownies streamed in, one for each member of the class. "Your first assignment for our class is to live with a Brownie for a full week. They will clean your dorms, cook your meals, and go shopping for you, either for basic necessities, or something more exotic, if you prefer."

"We have a gift for retail--and we never pay," Mumford boasted, making his way over to Kenzi. The others followed suit, choosing students to go home with.

"Next Thursday, they'll accompany you back to class and we'll discuss what you've learned," Trick finished. "They'll work very hard for you, so long as you don't take them for granted."

The classroom was set up with a number of soft, padded mats and pillows. Many of which smelled like play dough and apple juice, others of... less pleasant smells. Here's hoping that you grabbed one of the good pillows?

But not the one Juliet had claimed. She’d bite you if you tried to take it away. Anakin turned the lights down low. “Naptime,” he began, “because apparently it’s ‘wrong’ to shoot children with tranquilizers.”

"Yeah, who knew?" Deadpool added, ignoring the ginger child that was attempting to use his mask as a hand hold to climb... somewhere. It was possible she hadn't given that much more thought on the matter. "Jan, that's my face. I swear to god, I will sell you to the circus and take all that money to buy myself a sports car."

Jan, it seemed, did not buy that for a minute as she giggled evilly evilly, resuming her climb.

“Red one?” Juliet asked interestedly before whacking her father in the legs with her pillow. Anakin gave her a sour look. “So we’ll read a story and see if we can get these kids to sleep, then the room will generate some children of its own for you to read to.”

Children programmed by Anakin and Deadpool. Have fear, students.

Deadpool snagged the child turned monkey, holding her around the waist under his arm as he nodded. "Now, you might think it's easy to put a kid down for a nap, but you'd be wrong. So, so wrong. A kid who can't walk around is easier, mostly because babies are like cats in that they sleep, eat, poop. And then sleep some more. But then the kid gets to a point where they know what's best--"

Somewhere in there, someone was whining, "'m not tiiiiiired. I wanna play with Juliet." Whoever could it be?

"--but they're wrong because they want to pass out at any moment, so it's best to make it in an organized fashion. Preferably in a bed or on the couch instead of on top of the dog. Or in some finger paints."

“NOT TIRED, DADDY!” cried Juliet, who’d just pinged to the idea that the nap was for her, just before bolting for the door.

“Catch her!” Anakin called out.

"See, that's why I kept Jan's feet off the ground as soon as the word 'nap' hit the conversation," Deadpool said, holding a sulking limpet of a child up higher for people to see. Somehow this was going to be the least traumatizing thing about her growing up. What with the whole mutant messiah thing. "Use your Jedi powers!"

“But then they’ll never learn,” Anakin pointed out, reaching out and locking the door with the Force.

Deadpool shrugged. "I could always threaten to leave her with her grandpa and his skanky girlfriend." He was an awesome dad, thank you. "Or take away her toy swords."

"NO!"

"Yeah, you kids are gonna looooove fake parenthood today," Deadpool said with a smile that wasn't friendly at all.

"Welcome, welcome," Pinkie said, greeting the students by the door as they entered. "Quick, come in, it's freezing out there!"

No. No it really, really wasn't. But then, Pinkie was wearing what looked like a giant pudding cup on her head, so she really couldn't be considered an authority.

The Danger Shop had been set up to resemble the interior of a medieval town hall, this time, with wooden galleries lining the tall stone walls, filled with what looked like colorful medieval pony serfs arranged in three sections: unicorns, behind a banner displaying an elegant unicorn profile; pegasi, behind a banner of a dramatic white pegasus on a blue field; and earth ponies, behind a banner decorated in images of a peaceful farm field all set for the planting season. As the students gathered, Pinkie handed some of them unicorn horns attached to headbands, some of them pegasus wings on backpack straps, and some of them . . . nothing at all. A gaping, old-timey costume chest was overflowing with an odd assortment of regal cloaks, Roman centurian armor, and Elizabethan collars, and Pinkie encouraged all the students to raid it before she finally got things started.

"Welcome," she said again, "to the ( Great Pony Summit! )

Oh yes, it's already time for this. Summer moves quickly!

To apply, read the following information, click the link to the application form, fill it out for the character you want to play, and send it off!

( The basics you need to know. )

( What's needed to apply. )

( Early applications. )

( What happens once you've applied: )

( Notes for Current Players. )

( Notes for New Players. )

Application Form
You only need to fill out the parts that are relevant to the type of character you are applying for (ie: if you're a student applicant, don't fill in the stuff marked 'Townies Only').

If you don't get a confirmation email from us within 24 hours, please email us.

Here at Fandom High we have a soft character cap of 10 characters per fandom. (Characters who have graduated or otherwise moved away from the island are not counted towards this.) There are currently no fandoms at full capacity, so feel free to apply for characters from whatever fandom you choose. You can check on your prospective fandom's character count by checking out the character roster on fandomhigh.net (linked above).

Applications close Sunday, June 17, 2012 at 11:59pm Pacific. The next application session for students and teachers after this will be in July/August.

Got a question? We're here to answer it!

Today, the Danger Shop was set up to resemble the surf and beaches of Hawaii. It was one of Summer's favorite places to surf. The surf was fairly calm, with just a slight ripple of waves now and then.

"I decided to have the Danger Shop display one of my favorite places to surf - the coast of Hawaii. No matter what time of day, or year, you are sure to find good conditions to surf in. I thought we could get back in the water and get used to the boards. I'll show you some basic techniques to balance on the boards and you can practice that for as long or as little as you like. And, as always, if you have any questions, I'm here to answer them."

[OCD is a go.]

So there were several boxes of baked goods outside the Danger Shop today; you could chalk it up to Kennedy feeling generous, or maybe she'd had a really busy patrol last night. Or both could be true. Probably were.

Inside, the Danger Shop was set up like a park or a very large yard: a sizeable treehouse nestled among the branches of a sturdy-looking oak, fifty yards or so away from a fort made of sandbags and tarps. The fort was well stocked with Nerf weapons, buckets of ping-pong balls, and other moddable implements of harmless toy warfare, and anyone venturing into the treehouse would find the same. Each base (because that was obviously what they were) had a brightly-colored bandanna serving as a flag: the fort's green one was tied to a stick planted in the dirt behind the sandbag wall, and the treehouse's red one was visible through one window.

"Okay," Kennedy-- pacing back and forth along the top of one sandbag-fort wall-- said once the class had assembled. "Here's the thing about teamwork: there's all these motivational posters and things about it, but the fact is? You're not all gonna get along all the time. It happens. Stuff isn't going right, there's all this stress, maybe you haven't had any time to plan or get to know each other before you got thrown into the middle of everything. Odds are good you're gonna end up getting up in each other's faces a few times."

Her tone was light, but her expression bordered on the serious. "That? Not good. And I'm not gonna say you can prevent it, but you gotta be prepared for it. I wasn't, the first time, and things got really messy." Yeah, that was an understatement. "So here's a question for you. How's it gone down for you, if you've been in that kind of situation before, with the team friction? How do you think you'd handle it if you had to do it again? And if this is all just theory for you right now, how do you think you'd handle it?"

She waved a hand. "Not a discussion question. Just something to think about while you guys split up into teams and play Capture the Flag. Count off, one-two-one-two, and then you've got ten minutes to figure out who can do what to help your team out. Do not go out there and deliberately try to hurt each other, on the other team or yours, got it? Okay, get moving."

[[and ocd is up. go.]]