"People do what will be good for them."
Who: G'thon, Reyce, Aelan, Miniyal, Ginella and Bailie
When: Day 10 of the tentth month of the second turn.
Where: Caucus classroom
What: G'thon introduces his ethics class.
The former weyrleader has made but one amendment to the room's decor: A long wide piece of poor-quality hide, the parchment pale stuff they use more often for wrapping meat in the kitchen than for writing upon. It's been tacked up along one wall, the one that the semi-circle of the chairs and desks largely faces. The man himself waits, draped in his greatcoat as if the room were chilly, by the wall, by the vast expanse of unmarked hide. A few lesser hides, more the family of ordinary notes, stack atop the instructor's desk in the corner; they might be anything, not his at all. He stares into nothing, seemingly elsewhere as members of Caucus put themselves into place.
Reyce tends to arrive at his classes whenever he finds it convenient to him, giving him an erratic record of tardies and unmarked early arrivals. Today falls into the latter category: the Bendenite has claimed a seat right at the back, where he can lead his head against the wall and rest while he waits for the rest of his classmates to catch up with his schedule. G'thon and his meager decorations were marked when he came in, perhaps, but they clearly hold no interest for him now.
Bastard. That back seat up against the wall is where Aelan is prone to sit, back where she can chime in or pretend to pay attention as the mood strikes her. But with Reyce there, well. It's either sit next to 'Benden' or find a spot surrounded by more people, closer to the front where she's more likely to be called upon. There's a moment of indecision as she stops, halfway down the row, as she recognizes the man with a grimace of her own. Finally, with a sigh, she drops down into the chair next to him. "You're here early," she observes, stretching her legs out in front of herself and accidentally kicking the chair of the student in front of her.
It's easy to miss some people, lurking as they are wont to do. Miniyal is here, having picked a spot in the far corner to reside. She looks ready to take notes so perhaps that is why she is here. What she does not look ready to do is /be/ here. However, here she is, sitting quietly in the corner, watching the former weyrleader more than those who wander into the room. Her expression is thoughtful enough, remaining that way she she finally turns her attention towards those who do come in for the class. Every now and again she takes the time to write something down on the hide in front of her. Note taking. Terribly exciting. Easier to not make eye contact that way. That she avoids at all costs.
Reyce is, indeed, a bastard. He cracks an eye open when the sound of nearby movement clues him in to Aelan's arrival, but once he's determined who she is he seems content to close that eye again. "I'm here," he answers and corrects at the same time, putting a slight emphasis on the second word to draw out its isolation: no 'early' falls into his accounting.
"Ah." It's the ticking of some unseen clock, the soft little sound made when the hands briefly coincide and brush against one another at the top of the hour. Considering that much of the class' bulk has been present for some time already, what clock it is that Gans is operating on might be up for debate. He turns from his aimless staring to glance over the representation of Caucus assembled, and a pale brow slivers up like he's surprised to see them there. Not too surprised, mind you, to speak. "Good evening. I trust you all enjoyed your suppers, if you took them." Perhaps that's meant to be dry wit. A hand vanishes into his greatcoat and comes out with stylus and a tiny pip-bottle. "If you had any expectation of taking notes, I do apologize for any inconvenience such misunderstanding may have caused. I shall take care of notes for us so that you may all discuss unfettered." The right-hand side of his mouth creeps up, threatening something like a smile. "I shall begin broadly. Do not make me select favorites." A glance somehow finds its way through other, more forward-sitting students to pick out Reyce, briefly. "How many of you believe some standard of ethics, however low, to be a given? A safe assumption of all humanity?"
Aelan wrinkles her nose at Reyce, though G'thon's question brings a smirk, tugging crookedly at one corner of her lips. A brow arches, a pointed look up and down Reyce is granted, and then she looks back to the former Weyrleader with a touch of amusement, her arms remaining crossed loosely over her chest.
Reyce bulldogs that pointed glance, his mouth set flat and his eyes showing blank indifference. Such is the gaze that he keeps trained on his teacher, ignoring Aelan's look entirely and simply crossing his arms over his chest when that question goes out to the room. There will be no hand-raising from his quarter.
Just here to take notes, that is what Miniyal does. Or that is what she seems to be doing. There is some watching the people about the room, but she's not taking the class so doesn't have to answer. Really, her being here should be enough for a certain instructor.
Ginella is sitting towards the middle, neither in the front, nor the back, nor a corner. She still has a pen in her hand, confused about the note-taking remark, perhaps, but now frowning about the question instead. Finally, she raises a hand, though she does not look pleased about being in the minority yet again.
Aelan and Reyce are not alone among Holders' children, heirs and relatives who remain stodgy about the subject, though hands do raise from other trenches - and go back down slowly, as the majority speaks, or rather, does not. Gans' smile decreases incrementally. "So cynical," he murmurs, which sounds all too much like approval. Ginella gets a glance, and then a nod, singled out. "Ginella. Can you put a few words to what you consider the lowest common denominator of ethics to be?"
Bailie enters from the bowl.
Bailie has arrived.
Ginella sighs very softly, and rubs at a brow, but nods. "It's certainly extremely low," she clarifies, "I just think that even people who do terrible things for the most part believe somehow that what they are doing is right. It probably isn't, and may not even make sense to a rational person," she adds, "But they believe that what they're doing is somehow right or justified, and I think I'd say that counts as a -form- of ethics, at least."
"But it's not a /standard/ of ethics," Aelan chimes in, tipping her chair onto its back legs, using the wall as a brace. "Standard of ethics implies that it's somehow transcendant, that it applies to /everyone/. And if there are people who disagree, then it can't really be a standard of ethics." She starts to fold her arms behind her head, though she catches herself enough to be a little more ladylike, brushing her bangs away from her eyes.
Bailie is late, an unusual occurrence - she's got a note, though? Slipping inside the door as quietly as she can, she pauses to survey the room. One shapely brow arches as she tries to determine the question that goes with Ginella's answer. Books tucked tightly to her chest, the Fortian clears her throat to announce her presence.
As promised, G'thon takes notes. He turns and, high up on the hide tacked onto the wall behind him, inscribes with the dipped stylus just a dot, and then the words, 'belief of rightness.' His script is tight, clean, tidy; a little small for the backmost seats, but not impossible for good vision. He puts his back to the hide again and observes, "Correct, Aelan. The standard would require a common agreement on something, some simple and most base thing, we can all agree is right. Miss Bailie." With a smile fixed just on young Fort now, he gestures a spreading of one palm, inviting her in."Would you like to take a seat and make a suggestion?"
Miniyal's opinion on all of this remains with her. Hardly surprising, really. Continuing to make notes it doesn't seem as if she's trying to get down everything said, but it's meant to take up all her time so she can not look up. Ever. She's quite good at that too. Any look anyone gets is a glance stolen when she seems quite sure that no one will notice such a look.
Reyce remains predictably silent throughout this exchange, but at least he is no longer leaning back against the wall and ignoring those around him. Rather, though he ignores the exchange, he does look around at his other silent classmates, and even at Miniyal (though indeed, her sneaky glances are well-timed enough that he catches none of them). The first participant he pays any attention to is Bailie, reverting his attention her way when she announces herself with a cleared throat and waiting for the effects of G'thon's effort to bring her into the discussion.
Aelan, ever helpful, mumbles something under her breath about always matching one's shoes and one's skirts, though she's taken by a sudden need to clear her throat afterwards, covering her mouth with one hand.
She slips into the nearest empty seat, resting her books for the moment on her knees. Bailie's thinking, the cogs of the brain behind her beauty (there is one, honest!) turning as she buys some time for herself by fussing with her curls. "Well." Lashes blink demurely, dark brown eyes flitting instinctively toward Reyce - she can feel him watching her! "Perhaps it's not a common /standard/ of ethics that humanity shares, but rather the fact that each individual /has/ a personal set of ethics?"
"Also correct," G'thon allows, but with a certain tone in his voice, mildly wry, like something in the discussion must have just miscarried. He half-turns, however, inking the stylus again, and while reaching to notate 'standards differ per individual' beneath the prior note, asks, "Reyce, would you be able to make a suggestion of some basic, unalterable standard of 'right' in which all humans would presumably agree?"
Aelan looks to take issue with the assertion that all people have a set of ethics, starting to straighten in her chair with a tip of her head. She even has her mouth open again, starting to raise a finger, when G'thon calls on Reyce. This time, instead, she turns to look at the fellow next to her, quirking a brow.
Reyce meets Bailie's flicked glance as impassively as he met G'thon's, waiting for her to finish speaking before he moves his focus off again - and then gets called on. "No," he answers softly, looking at the items G'thon has written down. "I wouldn't." His eyes return to the teacher and he gives an unhelpful shrug, but if his inability to provide an answer to the question embarasses him, it doesn't show.
"Good." G'thon's fingers twitch and in so twitching the stylus' uninked end lowers in a cannon swing-point at Reyce. "Can anyone else?"
"Given the recent occurrences," Bailie chimes in, a certain measure of shock in her tone, "Pern-wide... maybe there isn't one?"
Ginella isn't voicing any dissent this time, instead doodling absently on the edge of her page as she eyes her fellow students.
"What's good for them," Aelan chimes in again, crossing her arms over her chest and tipping up her chin. "People do what will be good for them. Even if it's something that's immediately bad for them, they're doing it because it will be good for them in the long run, or because they prefer the good effects of it over the bad."
Reyce silently mouths Bailie's opening words - 'given recent occurences' - though he doesn't bother to look at her. He does, at least, bother to participate, noting drily, "Wouldn't credit 'recent occurences' with changing anything." He drops a heavier note on the word 'changing,' but that's it for his point. He settles back into his chair, allowing his crossed arms to fall down while he folds his hands in his lap.
"But you already said that this standard has to be something everyone would agree on, Aelan. I might agree with Sefton that it would be good for you all to eat more vegetables, but I suspect there are some of you who might see it otherwise." G'thon allows the least creep of a smile and backs up, putting his back to the hide on the wall, as he's leaned before against a door. "If there were no disagreements about what's best for a person, we would have no need of compromise, and your courseload here would be considerably lessened. There is, then, no standard? Would we all agree, then, that a human - any human - is initially, and unless instructed otherwise, entirely without ethics?"
"It's best for me to do what's good for me, either in the short term or the long run," Aelan edits. "That allows for me to decide it's really not good for me to eat my vegetables, because I value the experience of a meal that I enjoy eating over whatever long-term benefits may be involved in eating my vegetables. It also allows for you and Sefton to eat all the vegetables you want." She shrugs one shoulder then, smile slipping crooked. "Not sure if that's 'ethics', so to say, though. More like survival instinct."
"Self-service, I would say," G'thon notes to Aelan, too willing to be derailed, "And I'll pass, but thank you." Half-smirk.
More covert glances at people and more notes taken. It's so very exciting. She's an exciting girl, Miniyal. If her gaze occasionally lingers on the instructor it's not like, tucked into the corner as she is, anyone will notice. And if they do it's their own fault for looking at her.
Reyce squints down over G'thon's new question, staring thoughtfully at the items written out on that hide. "Teacher." In lieu of hand-raising, this seems to be his way of asking a moment.
G'thon overturns a hand, palm up, fingers loosely curled, the least of beckons; his eyes find Reyce willingly enough. No complaint here about forms of address, but then, that would figure.
Reyce draws in a quick sniff as he catches, peripherally, the sight of G'thon's beckoning gesture. His eyes flick that way, then, finding the hand first to see exactly how it was he was acknowledgement; only once he's done this does he look at said teacher. "Are we talking about origins of ethics or practice." He neglects inflection in his voice, so he must compensate with a raised brow - yes, this is a question.
"What do the origins matter?" Aelan has never been one for waiting her turn or asking to be acknowledged when she decides to join in a conversation. "What matters is how you use them. /Why/ do we have this convention, ethics? What purpose does it serve? And why bother with it at all, especially if this many of us," she gestures around the class, "Are ready to admit they aren't real."
G'thon's jaw slacks a little, a voiceless approximation of his well-used 'ah,' but whatever he might have answered Reyce dies off in favor of letting Aelan do the answering. To that the 'teacher' need only remark, "Indeed," approving, and then, "As entertaining as I might find it for you all to flail about trying to convince one another that your own conceptions of right, wrong, best and worst should take priority - and I shall offer you no illusions that I might be at all chagrined should this occur - I believe my responsibility to each of you will be better fulfilled if this class is capable of discussing ethics in terms of how they vary by place, position and convenience. To do that we must strip ourselves of preconceptions." His smile bends up again on the right. "How pleasant for me that most of you possess none."
Reyce shoots Aelan an irritated look for jumping his question, but this quickly settles back into indifference as G'thon starts speaking and he returns a blank look to the front.
Bailie's brown eyes flicker about the room as Reyce questions, Aelan answers, and G'thon agrees. She's content just to sit and listen, apparently, and gives nothing but a blank nod as the latter adds his 'lesson plan', as such.
Miniyal is still quiet, but the look she gives G'thon is rather considering. It lasts a short time, easy enough to miss. Then she is back to writing. Neat precise notes on her hide as she keeps an ear out for what everyone in the room is saying.
Aelan smiles sweetly at Reyce's irritated look, allowing the briefest bit of self-satisfaction to creep through the bored facade. Idly, she hooks an arm around the back of her chair, still leaning it back as she listens a bit more attentively now.
"Very well," remarks G'thon after a moment, dry to the bone in the silence that ensues. "An assignment. You may take notes on this if you wish, but you shouldn't have to." He does, unfortunately, happen to glance at Bailie just here. "Approximately midterm we'll meet and discuss a number of social injustices. Simple ones. Ones you can crystallize in one sentence, no more than a dozen words. Between now and then I expect you each to bring me your sentence so we can review it, and I'll provide you some ideas for material to back up your argument." Wait, argument? "I'll explain that when I meet with you. Any questions?"
Miniyal's eyes roll at something and she makes a note or two more before she leans back in her chair a bit and looks around the classroom. Her expression is neutral, but still unimpressed overall. Not that she'll /say/ anything. Nope.
Reyce's eyes narrow when the word 'argument' gets introduced to the equation, but though this assignment seems to have some hazy outlines, he doesn't press it.
Who, me? Bailie looks mildly surprised to catch G'thon's glance. Her hand shoots up, but she doesn't wait to be called upon before asking her question. "So, we're to... think of a simple social injustice, explain it in one sentence, and then bring it to you for review, sir?"
Aelan quirks a brow at the talk of arguments, though she seems more excited about it. Until she starts to think about social injustices. "How can there be social injustices if there are no real ethics?" she asks, not quite waiting until Bailie is done asking her question.
"Excellent, Miss Bailie." The crooked smile the once-weyrleader offers the young lady of Fort is honestly pleased, if not entirely without some sense of affectionate condescension. His glance transfers to Aelan. "How indeed." Less fettered approval, this. "If you can, in complete earnestness, argue that there are no social injustices because of a lack of social ethics, then this should be the basis of your sentence. However, I believe some of our study between now and then may complicate the question."
"If there are no other remarks," says G'thon, after a moment, "You are all at your leisure. Reyce? Perhaps you will walk with Miniyal? I must stop by the office first."
Fine, he gets a reaction. Miniyal stops putting away her pens and ink and. . .yes, glares at the instructor. "That won't be necessary," she says with a shake of her head, not looking at Reyce at all. Hmph. He can try all he wants, but she won't let him get away with this. "I've something to tend to anyway." She might or might not, but she certainly sounds sincere about having something to do.
Reyce had been quietly fading out as the class winds up, waiting - no doubt - for the final call of dismissal to set him free to vanish entirely. Or, not entirely, because - he jerks his attention back to the teacher, his eyes narrowing to thin yellow slits at odds with the gentle request. Miniyal's response must register with him somewhere, or else he simply has no intention of carrying out said gentle request; at any rate, he doesn't move to join her as she puts away her things.
Bailie's oblivious to any of that condescension, looking pleased with herself and the new assignment. She's up in a flash as soon as the class is dismissed, tucking her books to her chest again and ducking quickly towards the door. Perhaps the reason she was late is also the reason she's quick to depart - even if this isn't the case, she's out of the room in a flash.
"As you wish," replies G'thon, expression benevolent, even fond, through a glance to Miniyal. Some of that mild bemusement sticks for a glance at Reyce, too. "I won't be long." And then he's off toward the office as promised, tucking the stylus and ink into his greatcoat, leaving the broad hide - with its two measly notes - behind.
When: Day 10 of the tentth month of the second turn.
Where: Caucus classroom
What: G'thon introduces his ethics class.
The former weyrleader has made but one amendment to the room's decor: A long wide piece of poor-quality hide, the parchment pale stuff they use more often for wrapping meat in the kitchen than for writing upon. It's been tacked up along one wall, the one that the semi-circle of the chairs and desks largely faces. The man himself waits, draped in his greatcoat as if the room were chilly, by the wall, by the vast expanse of unmarked hide. A few lesser hides, more the family of ordinary notes, stack atop the instructor's desk in the corner; they might be anything, not his at all. He stares into nothing, seemingly elsewhere as members of Caucus put themselves into place.
Reyce tends to arrive at his classes whenever he finds it convenient to him, giving him an erratic record of tardies and unmarked early arrivals. Today falls into the latter category: the Bendenite has claimed a seat right at the back, where he can lead his head against the wall and rest while he waits for the rest of his classmates to catch up with his schedule. G'thon and his meager decorations were marked when he came in, perhaps, but they clearly hold no interest for him now.
Bastard. That back seat up against the wall is where Aelan is prone to sit, back where she can chime in or pretend to pay attention as the mood strikes her. But with Reyce there, well. It's either sit next to 'Benden' or find a spot surrounded by more people, closer to the front where she's more likely to be called upon. There's a moment of indecision as she stops, halfway down the row, as she recognizes the man with a grimace of her own. Finally, with a sigh, she drops down into the chair next to him. "You're here early," she observes, stretching her legs out in front of herself and accidentally kicking the chair of the student in front of her.
It's easy to miss some people, lurking as they are wont to do. Miniyal is here, having picked a spot in the far corner to reside. She looks ready to take notes so perhaps that is why she is here. What she does not look ready to do is /be/ here. However, here she is, sitting quietly in the corner, watching the former weyrleader more than those who wander into the room. Her expression is thoughtful enough, remaining that way she she finally turns her attention towards those who do come in for the class. Every now and again she takes the time to write something down on the hide in front of her. Note taking. Terribly exciting. Easier to not make eye contact that way. That she avoids at all costs.
Reyce is, indeed, a bastard. He cracks an eye open when the sound of nearby movement clues him in to Aelan's arrival, but once he's determined who she is he seems content to close that eye again. "I'm here," he answers and corrects at the same time, putting a slight emphasis on the second word to draw out its isolation: no 'early' falls into his accounting.
"Ah." It's the ticking of some unseen clock, the soft little sound made when the hands briefly coincide and brush against one another at the top of the hour. Considering that much of the class' bulk has been present for some time already, what clock it is that Gans is operating on might be up for debate. He turns from his aimless staring to glance over the representation of Caucus assembled, and a pale brow slivers up like he's surprised to see them there. Not too surprised, mind you, to speak. "Good evening. I trust you all enjoyed your suppers, if you took them." Perhaps that's meant to be dry wit. A hand vanishes into his greatcoat and comes out with stylus and a tiny pip-bottle. "If you had any expectation of taking notes, I do apologize for any inconvenience such misunderstanding may have caused. I shall take care of notes for us so that you may all discuss unfettered." The right-hand side of his mouth creeps up, threatening something like a smile. "I shall begin broadly. Do not make me select favorites." A glance somehow finds its way through other, more forward-sitting students to pick out Reyce, briefly. "How many of you believe some standard of ethics, however low, to be a given? A safe assumption of all humanity?"
Aelan wrinkles her nose at Reyce, though G'thon's question brings a smirk, tugging crookedly at one corner of her lips. A brow arches, a pointed look up and down Reyce is granted, and then she looks back to the former Weyrleader with a touch of amusement, her arms remaining crossed loosely over her chest.
Reyce bulldogs that pointed glance, his mouth set flat and his eyes showing blank indifference. Such is the gaze that he keeps trained on his teacher, ignoring Aelan's look entirely and simply crossing his arms over his chest when that question goes out to the room. There will be no hand-raising from his quarter.
Just here to take notes, that is what Miniyal does. Or that is what she seems to be doing. There is some watching the people about the room, but she's not taking the class so doesn't have to answer. Really, her being here should be enough for a certain instructor.
Ginella is sitting towards the middle, neither in the front, nor the back, nor a corner. She still has a pen in her hand, confused about the note-taking remark, perhaps, but now frowning about the question instead. Finally, she raises a hand, though she does not look pleased about being in the minority yet again.
Aelan and Reyce are not alone among Holders' children, heirs and relatives who remain stodgy about the subject, though hands do raise from other trenches - and go back down slowly, as the majority speaks, or rather, does not. Gans' smile decreases incrementally. "So cynical," he murmurs, which sounds all too much like approval. Ginella gets a glance, and then a nod, singled out. "Ginella. Can you put a few words to what you consider the lowest common denominator of ethics to be?"
Bailie enters from the bowl.
Bailie has arrived.
Ginella sighs very softly, and rubs at a brow, but nods. "It's certainly extremely low," she clarifies, "I just think that even people who do terrible things for the most part believe somehow that what they are doing is right. It probably isn't, and may not even make sense to a rational person," she adds, "But they believe that what they're doing is somehow right or justified, and I think I'd say that counts as a -form- of ethics, at least."
"But it's not a /standard/ of ethics," Aelan chimes in, tipping her chair onto its back legs, using the wall as a brace. "Standard of ethics implies that it's somehow transcendant, that it applies to /everyone/. And if there are people who disagree, then it can't really be a standard of ethics." She starts to fold her arms behind her head, though she catches herself enough to be a little more ladylike, brushing her bangs away from her eyes.
Bailie is late, an unusual occurrence - she's got a note, though? Slipping inside the door as quietly as she can, she pauses to survey the room. One shapely brow arches as she tries to determine the question that goes with Ginella's answer. Books tucked tightly to her chest, the Fortian clears her throat to announce her presence.
As promised, G'thon takes notes. He turns and, high up on the hide tacked onto the wall behind him, inscribes with the dipped stylus just a dot, and then the words, 'belief of rightness.' His script is tight, clean, tidy; a little small for the backmost seats, but not impossible for good vision. He puts his back to the hide again and observes, "Correct, Aelan. The standard would require a common agreement on something, some simple and most base thing, we can all agree is right. Miss Bailie." With a smile fixed just on young Fort now, he gestures a spreading of one palm, inviting her in."Would you like to take a seat and make a suggestion?"
Miniyal's opinion on all of this remains with her. Hardly surprising, really. Continuing to make notes it doesn't seem as if she's trying to get down everything said, but it's meant to take up all her time so she can not look up. Ever. She's quite good at that too. Any look anyone gets is a glance stolen when she seems quite sure that no one will notice such a look.
Reyce remains predictably silent throughout this exchange, but at least he is no longer leaning back against the wall and ignoring those around him. Rather, though he ignores the exchange, he does look around at his other silent classmates, and even at Miniyal (though indeed, her sneaky glances are well-timed enough that he catches none of them). The first participant he pays any attention to is Bailie, reverting his attention her way when she announces herself with a cleared throat and waiting for the effects of G'thon's effort to bring her into the discussion.
Aelan, ever helpful, mumbles something under her breath about always matching one's shoes and one's skirts, though she's taken by a sudden need to clear her throat afterwards, covering her mouth with one hand.
She slips into the nearest empty seat, resting her books for the moment on her knees. Bailie's thinking, the cogs of the brain behind her beauty (there is one, honest!) turning as she buys some time for herself by fussing with her curls. "Well." Lashes blink demurely, dark brown eyes flitting instinctively toward Reyce - she can feel him watching her! "Perhaps it's not a common /standard/ of ethics that humanity shares, but rather the fact that each individual /has/ a personal set of ethics?"
"Also correct," G'thon allows, but with a certain tone in his voice, mildly wry, like something in the discussion must have just miscarried. He half-turns, however, inking the stylus again, and while reaching to notate 'standards differ per individual' beneath the prior note, asks, "Reyce, would you be able to make a suggestion of some basic, unalterable standard of 'right' in which all humans would presumably agree?"
Aelan looks to take issue with the assertion that all people have a set of ethics, starting to straighten in her chair with a tip of her head. She even has her mouth open again, starting to raise a finger, when G'thon calls on Reyce. This time, instead, she turns to look at the fellow next to her, quirking a brow.
Reyce meets Bailie's flicked glance as impassively as he met G'thon's, waiting for her to finish speaking before he moves his focus off again - and then gets called on. "No," he answers softly, looking at the items G'thon has written down. "I wouldn't." His eyes return to the teacher and he gives an unhelpful shrug, but if his inability to provide an answer to the question embarasses him, it doesn't show.
"Good." G'thon's fingers twitch and in so twitching the stylus' uninked end lowers in a cannon swing-point at Reyce. "Can anyone else?"
"Given the recent occurrences," Bailie chimes in, a certain measure of shock in her tone, "Pern-wide... maybe there isn't one?"
Ginella isn't voicing any dissent this time, instead doodling absently on the edge of her page as she eyes her fellow students.
"What's good for them," Aelan chimes in again, crossing her arms over her chest and tipping up her chin. "People do what will be good for them. Even if it's something that's immediately bad for them, they're doing it because it will be good for them in the long run, or because they prefer the good effects of it over the bad."
Reyce silently mouths Bailie's opening words - 'given recent occurences' - though he doesn't bother to look at her. He does, at least, bother to participate, noting drily, "Wouldn't credit 'recent occurences' with changing anything." He drops a heavier note on the word 'changing,' but that's it for his point. He settles back into his chair, allowing his crossed arms to fall down while he folds his hands in his lap.
"But you already said that this standard has to be something everyone would agree on, Aelan. I might agree with Sefton that it would be good for you all to eat more vegetables, but I suspect there are some of you who might see it otherwise." G'thon allows the least creep of a smile and backs up, putting his back to the hide on the wall, as he's leaned before against a door. "If there were no disagreements about what's best for a person, we would have no need of compromise, and your courseload here would be considerably lessened. There is, then, no standard? Would we all agree, then, that a human - any human - is initially, and unless instructed otherwise, entirely without ethics?"
"It's best for me to do what's good for me, either in the short term or the long run," Aelan edits. "That allows for me to decide it's really not good for me to eat my vegetables, because I value the experience of a meal that I enjoy eating over whatever long-term benefits may be involved in eating my vegetables. It also allows for you and Sefton to eat all the vegetables you want." She shrugs one shoulder then, smile slipping crooked. "Not sure if that's 'ethics', so to say, though. More like survival instinct."
"Self-service, I would say," G'thon notes to Aelan, too willing to be derailed, "And I'll pass, but thank you." Half-smirk.
More covert glances at people and more notes taken. It's so very exciting. She's an exciting girl, Miniyal. If her gaze occasionally lingers on the instructor it's not like, tucked into the corner as she is, anyone will notice. And if they do it's their own fault for looking at her.
Reyce squints down over G'thon's new question, staring thoughtfully at the items written out on that hide. "Teacher." In lieu of hand-raising, this seems to be his way of asking a moment.
G'thon overturns a hand, palm up, fingers loosely curled, the least of beckons; his eyes find Reyce willingly enough. No complaint here about forms of address, but then, that would figure.
Reyce draws in a quick sniff as he catches, peripherally, the sight of G'thon's beckoning gesture. His eyes flick that way, then, finding the hand first to see exactly how it was he was acknowledgement; only once he's done this does he look at said teacher. "Are we talking about origins of ethics or practice." He neglects inflection in his voice, so he must compensate with a raised brow - yes, this is a question.
"What do the origins matter?" Aelan has never been one for waiting her turn or asking to be acknowledged when she decides to join in a conversation. "What matters is how you use them. /Why/ do we have this convention, ethics? What purpose does it serve? And why bother with it at all, especially if this many of us," she gestures around the class, "Are ready to admit they aren't real."
G'thon's jaw slacks a little, a voiceless approximation of his well-used 'ah,' but whatever he might have answered Reyce dies off in favor of letting Aelan do the answering. To that the 'teacher' need only remark, "Indeed," approving, and then, "As entertaining as I might find it for you all to flail about trying to convince one another that your own conceptions of right, wrong, best and worst should take priority - and I shall offer you no illusions that I might be at all chagrined should this occur - I believe my responsibility to each of you will be better fulfilled if this class is capable of discussing ethics in terms of how they vary by place, position and convenience. To do that we must strip ourselves of preconceptions." His smile bends up again on the right. "How pleasant for me that most of you possess none."
Reyce shoots Aelan an irritated look for jumping his question, but this quickly settles back into indifference as G'thon starts speaking and he returns a blank look to the front.
Bailie's brown eyes flicker about the room as Reyce questions, Aelan answers, and G'thon agrees. She's content just to sit and listen, apparently, and gives nothing but a blank nod as the latter adds his 'lesson plan', as such.
Miniyal is still quiet, but the look she gives G'thon is rather considering. It lasts a short time, easy enough to miss. Then she is back to writing. Neat precise notes on her hide as she keeps an ear out for what everyone in the room is saying.
Aelan smiles sweetly at Reyce's irritated look, allowing the briefest bit of self-satisfaction to creep through the bored facade. Idly, she hooks an arm around the back of her chair, still leaning it back as she listens a bit more attentively now.
"Very well," remarks G'thon after a moment, dry to the bone in the silence that ensues. "An assignment. You may take notes on this if you wish, but you shouldn't have to." He does, unfortunately, happen to glance at Bailie just here. "Approximately midterm we'll meet and discuss a number of social injustices. Simple ones. Ones you can crystallize in one sentence, no more than a dozen words. Between now and then I expect you each to bring me your sentence so we can review it, and I'll provide you some ideas for material to back up your argument." Wait, argument? "I'll explain that when I meet with you. Any questions?"
Miniyal's eyes roll at something and she makes a note or two more before she leans back in her chair a bit and looks around the classroom. Her expression is neutral, but still unimpressed overall. Not that she'll /say/ anything. Nope.
Reyce's eyes narrow when the word 'argument' gets introduced to the equation, but though this assignment seems to have some hazy outlines, he doesn't press it.
Who, me? Bailie looks mildly surprised to catch G'thon's glance. Her hand shoots up, but she doesn't wait to be called upon before asking her question. "So, we're to... think of a simple social injustice, explain it in one sentence, and then bring it to you for review, sir?"
Aelan quirks a brow at the talk of arguments, though she seems more excited about it. Until she starts to think about social injustices. "How can there be social injustices if there are no real ethics?" she asks, not quite waiting until Bailie is done asking her question.
"Excellent, Miss Bailie." The crooked smile the once-weyrleader offers the young lady of Fort is honestly pleased, if not entirely without some sense of affectionate condescension. His glance transfers to Aelan. "How indeed." Less fettered approval, this. "If you can, in complete earnestness, argue that there are no social injustices because of a lack of social ethics, then this should be the basis of your sentence. However, I believe some of our study between now and then may complicate the question."
"If there are no other remarks," says G'thon, after a moment, "You are all at your leisure. Reyce? Perhaps you will walk with Miniyal? I must stop by the office first."
Fine, he gets a reaction. Miniyal stops putting away her pens and ink and. . .yes, glares at the instructor. "That won't be necessary," she says with a shake of her head, not looking at Reyce at all. Hmph. He can try all he wants, but she won't let him get away with this. "I've something to tend to anyway." She might or might not, but she certainly sounds sincere about having something to do.
Reyce had been quietly fading out as the class winds up, waiting - no doubt - for the final call of dismissal to set him free to vanish entirely. Or, not entirely, because - he jerks his attention back to the teacher, his eyes narrowing to thin yellow slits at odds with the gentle request. Miniyal's response must register with him somewhere, or else he simply has no intention of carrying out said gentle request; at any rate, he doesn't move to join her as she puts away her things.
Bailie's oblivious to any of that condescension, looking pleased with herself and the new assignment. She's up in a flash as soon as the class is dismissed, tucking her books to her chest again and ducking quickly towards the door. Perhaps the reason she was late is also the reason she's quick to depart - even if this isn't the case, she's out of the room in a flash.
"As you wish," replies G'thon, expression benevolent, even fond, through a glance to Miniyal. Some of that mild bemusement sticks for a glance at Reyce, too. "I won't be long." And then he's off toward the office as promised, tucking the stylus and ink into his greatcoat, leaving the broad hide - with its two measly notes - behind.