Mythology of the Afterlife, Period 1, Tuesday 3/11/08
When the students entered the classroom they'd find it looking not quite so much like a classroom as like someone's living room crammed into a classroom shell.
Instead of desks, a motley assortment of couches and overstuffed arm chairs were arranged in a circle around a seriously ugly carpet, with a low, wide wooden coffee table in the center, stacked with clipboards, pens, pencils, markers, and sheets of scrap paper (most of which appeared to be handouts from an old art class). End tables flanked the couches, and a moddable breakfast bar had been set up along the windowed wall at the far side of the classroom from the door, offering coffee and tea and assorted pastries. The room was lit by an assortment of Chinese lanterns and standing lamps, rather than the usual florescent bulbs, light enough that the students wouldn't have any trouble seeing, but colorful enough to give the room a nice, moody feel. A whiteboard covered one wall, looking dingy and well used, the faint outlines of old lessons visible if one looked closely:
Welcome to Mythology of the Afterlife
Please have a seat.
(not in the white chair)
The board was also decorated with several rather badly drawn symbols from various religions around the world.
There was no teacher in sight.
Once the students were settled -- and probably starting to wonder where the heck their teacher was -- the temperature dropped noticeably and the lights began to flicker. Before anyone could get too worried -- or pull out the salt (we're looking at you, Sam Winchester) -- the spooky effect settled, and Nadia appeared in the white chair in front of the whiteboard.
"Welcome to Mythology of the Afterlife," she said softly, chin lifted proudly, as she looked around at each of the students. "I'm your professor, Nadia Santos. Some of you I recognize, and some of you might recognize me. Before we get started, allow me to explain myself a bit.
"I am a ghost.
"Yeah, that means I'm dead. I was killed either several months ago or a couple years from now, depending on your perspective, when I was pushed through a glass coffee table." A wound, red and angry, but not so gory as to cause undue distress, appeared on the side of her neck. "Which would be why nothing in this classroom except the lightbulbs and windows is made of glass. My two ground rules are that you don't bring any glass or salt into this room. Eyeglasses are excepted, of course.
"In this class, we'll be discussing the various myths and beliefs regarding death, the afterlife, and the end of the world from different cultures around the world. But today, we'll start simple. I'd like you each to introduce yourselves. Tell us your name, where and when you're from, and what you believe happens to a person when they die." She smiled slightly. "Or at least, what you believed before your teacher appeared in front of you as a ghost, since that might've changed a few opinions. Feel free to ask each other any questions, but, please, no mocking or insulting someone else's belief system. That's just rude, and you'll make me angry."
The lights flickered a few more times, and Nadia flickered in time to them, her eyes becoming momentarily dark and sunken, her mouth twisted into a grimace. Then the lights came back in full again and she was smiling.
"Right, let's get started, shall we? And please remember, I'm always available for any questions you might have. Just be aware . . . some memories of my death won't come as easily as others. But I'll do my best to give you as complete an answer as I can. Oh, and," She grinned. "Extra points to anyone who can identify all the symbols on the board. Lots of them, because, well, I wasn't even very good at drawing when I was alive. . . .
"One last thing: if anyone thinks they're qualified and would like to be my teacher's assistant, talk to me after class."
[ooc: OCD is on its way up! Have at ye! Yeeee-ep, I had way too much fun with my drawing tablet. Badly drawn religious symbols are from Available Emblems of Belief for Placement on Government Headstones and Markers.]
Instead of desks, a motley assortment of couches and overstuffed arm chairs were arranged in a circle around a seriously ugly carpet, with a low, wide wooden coffee table in the center, stacked with clipboards, pens, pencils, markers, and sheets of scrap paper (most of which appeared to be handouts from an old art class). End tables flanked the couches, and a moddable breakfast bar had been set up along the windowed wall at the far side of the classroom from the door, offering coffee and tea and assorted pastries. The room was lit by an assortment of Chinese lanterns and standing lamps, rather than the usual florescent bulbs, light enough that the students wouldn't have any trouble seeing, but colorful enough to give the room a nice, moody feel. A whiteboard covered one wall, looking dingy and well used, the faint outlines of old lessons visible if one looked closely:
Welcome to Mythology of the Afterlife
Please have a seat.
(not in the white chair)
The board was also decorated with several rather badly drawn symbols from various religions around the world.
There was no teacher in sight.
Once the students were settled -- and probably starting to wonder where the heck their teacher was -- the temperature dropped noticeably and the lights began to flicker. Before anyone could get too worried -- or pull out the salt (we're looking at you, Sam Winchester) -- the spooky effect settled, and Nadia appeared in the white chair in front of the whiteboard.
"Welcome to Mythology of the Afterlife," she said softly, chin lifted proudly, as she looked around at each of the students. "I'm your professor, Nadia Santos. Some of you I recognize, and some of you might recognize me. Before we get started, allow me to explain myself a bit.
"I am a ghost.
"Yeah, that means I'm dead. I was killed either several months ago or a couple years from now, depending on your perspective, when I was pushed through a glass coffee table." A wound, red and angry, but not so gory as to cause undue distress, appeared on the side of her neck. "Which would be why nothing in this classroom except the lightbulbs and windows is made of glass. My two ground rules are that you don't bring any glass or salt into this room. Eyeglasses are excepted, of course.
"In this class, we'll be discussing the various myths and beliefs regarding death, the afterlife, and the end of the world from different cultures around the world. But today, we'll start simple. I'd like you each to introduce yourselves. Tell us your name, where and when you're from, and what you believe happens to a person when they die." She smiled slightly. "Or at least, what you believed before your teacher appeared in front of you as a ghost, since that might've changed a few opinions. Feel free to ask each other any questions, but, please, no mocking or insulting someone else's belief system. That's just rude, and you'll make me angry."
The lights flickered a few more times, and Nadia flickered in time to them, her eyes becoming momentarily dark and sunken, her mouth twisted into a grimace. Then the lights came back in full again and she was smiling.
"Right, let's get started, shall we? And please remember, I'm always available for any questions you might have. Just be aware . . . some memories of my death won't come as easily as others. But I'll do my best to give you as complete an answer as I can. Oh, and," She grinned. "Extra points to anyone who can identify all the symbols on the board. Lots of them, because, well, I wasn't even very good at drawing when I was alive. . . .
"One last thing: if anyone thinks they're qualified and would like to be my teacher's assistant, talk to me after class."
[ooc: OCD is on its way up! Have at ye! Yeeee-ep, I had way too much fun with my drawing tablet. Badly drawn religious symbols are from Available Emblems of Belief for Placement on Government Headstones and Markers.]