kitchenfistfirechaosstyle: (this was a magnificent dish!)
[personal profile] kitchenfistfirechaosstyle
[Whether on Monday or Tuesday, the Home Ec classrooms are shut and locked. A note instructs students to go to the new basement classrooms.]

[Of course, students aren't normally allowed in the basement, but hey, the note's pretty clear.]

[Taking the elevator down and following the signs leads to an ominous sense of heat before it leads to the door. Opening that door makes it worse, as waves of heat and an absolutely delicious scent of thick stew pour out of a two-story tall pot dominating a kitchen that appears to have come from hell itself.]

[Rows of desks line up before a chalkboard. As the bell rings, the classroom... still has no teacher. The students are welcome to look around, talk amongst themselves, and wonder what's going on for all of a minute -- WHEN SUDDENLY--]


[A sun shines brilliantly in the heavens (even though they're indoors), silhouetting the figure of the Home Ec. teacher as he descends from above! With a crash, Mr. Champloo lands in the middle of the floor, then rises and points at the class.]

Kitchen Fist Fire Chaos Style! I, your Home Economics teacher, appear by the name of... Champloo!

[At once, every stove burner in the room bursts into flame.]

You all have embraced the path of cooking! And some other things covered in this class that are much less important. I warn you, the path of cooking is not for the faint of heart! You must have strength! You must have passion! You must be prepared to risk your life in the pursuit of the perfect dish! From this day forward you are students of the High Heat style of cooking!
worthyheir: ([Robin] Damn it it's not good enough!)
[personal profile] worthyheir
[He had hardly been at the school for no more than two weeks, and it was already far, far too long. He hated the garden, hated practically every person in the garden, hated the classes and most of all hated being away from any sort of action. He was the son of Batman and the heir to the empire of Ra's Al Ghul, the concept of being trapped had never entered his mind prior to arriving here. Granted, he had been trapped physically before, but this was an entirely different beast. Should he choose not to attend this giant waste of time, he would lose whatever little resources he now had available to him and be thrust into an entirely unfamiliar world.

This wasn't Gotham, with it's tall skyscrapers, costumed psychos, and citizens insane enough to still live in the city after all those years of dealing with Gotham's particular brand of costumed psychos. It wasn't like any of the places he had visited in his well-traveled young life, and though Damian had once considered himself a traveler, he doubted that if when he got home, it would be quite some time before he traveled again. Most importantly, this wasn't where Grayson was.

And so, with nothing better to do, he found himself reading The Art of War on the far side of the quad, trying to get some peace and quiet. Though he had read the book countless times before, there was something comforting in something so familiar...]
[identity profile]
[Old habits never die hard. Despite the fact that it's been years since he spent hours poring over book in the library, trying to learn every bit of information he could possibly need to know for that upcoming exam, the feeling naturally returns. It's a comfort to him, being able to adjust to his old learning habits just like that. Granted, Percy's never actually taught a class, but he's confident in his experience - his old Professors have been more than adept at indicating behaviors and mannerisms expected from his students.

With two classes to teach (relatively interesting ones too, he supposes), Percy's scrambling away, trying to adjust to a lesson plan that hopefully will touch upon all the necessary information and engage students in taking a more political approach instead of well... an aggressive one. So Percy's in the library, browsing through the history section for perfect examples to lead the class.]

Another country destroyed by intense warfare. How am I supposed to promote a peaceful solution when there's nothing but constant aggression?

[OOC: Backdated to just before classes began?]
[identity profile]
[This has been a profitable afternoon.

If by profitable you mean 'full of cats and catching them'.

Greece and Nepeta are returning to the Garden from their raid on town, cats and kittens alike either stowed away in huge cloth shopping-bags or under their clothes -- Greece's pockets especially are full of them.

But now they have to deal with the problem of hiding them all. Neither Greece nor Nepeta want to put them back where they came from, nor do they have the living space necessary to keep all the kitties happy.

Help a cat-lover out, would you?]

(OOC: Exactly what it sounds like. You can run into either Greece or Nepeta around campus, looking for spare rooms, and they'll try to give you a cat or three! Instructor-types will be distracted by Nepeta foaming at the mouth or something while Greece gets the fuck out of there with the payload.

Instructors who are trustworthy and want cats will only get foamed at for a couple of minutes :Db)
redcinemareel: (Grell: Knows no bounds)
[personal profile] redcinemareel
[Grell is finally out of her coma, and extremely tired! Sleeping Beauty slept too long it seems! She looks quite groggy, and feels lethargic, but her makeup is perfect. The weather is nice, but this red reaper has no care for it.

There's a random bench she finds and takes a seat. It isn't the quad, thankfully. No one should see her in such a poor state!]

Wondrous Sun, my skin is too delicate to appreciate your rays. [Sighs softly, closing her eyes.] I'd rather be heated up by passion!

[Opens them and looks down to her right hand, where her ring is still missing. It wasn't anywhere near her in the infirmary.]

Where could it be? [Pauses, looking around.] Where could he be?

[So here she waits.]

(ooc: I gave her a canon update. It's on her journal, but note that it's super, duper, long to read. >.>;)
[identity profile]
[It is an adequately lovely spring day in the quad. Birds are chirping, bees are flying in people's faces, ants are crawling all over cadets' lunches, the smell of preteens' sweat is in the air, a teenage boy is taking pictures of you--wait, what?]

[That's right. Miharu is wandering around the quad, taking pictures of anything and everything he can for his photography class. The flowers got boring after he was stung by a bee, so now he's focusing on the students milling around the area, shamelessly snapping their portraits. Including yours.]
[identity profile]
[One walking through the quad this fine day might notice a small teenage boy sitting under a tree with a textbook on his lap. Which really isn't different from any other day, given the nature of the quad, but this particular boy is out of the ordinary because

1) he looks like he's about to cry, and

2) he hasn't turned the page of his textbook for about twenty minutes.

Not that he's going to start crying all over anyone who happens to be near. But having the person he's been living with for the past year and a half, who taught him not to be an indifferent little brat, disappear really puts a damper on his mood. Also, he doesn't really understand his English textbook.]
[identity profile]
[Percy is an intelligent person. Really. Given his family's antics, he should not be surprised by any sort of unexpected situation. Armed with a letter that clearly does not represent Hogwarts and a school seemingly not for magic, he's out of his comfort zone.

Again. There's a sense and requirement of composure really, but he's missing it entirely and in the back of his mind there's that sense of rationalizing the situation.

So unlucky passerby if you're in the lobby, you're his next victim.]

Excuse me? I seem to have misplaced my Portkey. This is the wrong school - [and he's just shy of hysterical at this point] - and definitely not my letter! My Head Boy duties, someone needs to inform the Headmaster I can't fulfill them.

[And you're the brilliant target. Percy shakes the letter in his hand, desperately losing his composure.]
[identity profile]
I'm new. nice to meet you.

I cant read the course catalog. what's time compression?

(Rokujo Miharu)

((ooc: All grammar mistakes are ic as he wasn't the, uh...most attentive student.))


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Witches Reign

May 2014

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