(no subject)
Students here, Emma has already discovered, are a bit of a gamble. With any- and everyone free to sign up for courses, a teacher gets all kinds. She's not yet sure what to make of the bunch she's received today, though a couple of them are interesting enough. With class newly ended, texts handed out and expectations made clear, she gathers her things and heads toward the Compound, prepared to grab an early dinner before going home to refresh her own memory of the assigned reading. Just because she's read the material not that long ago doesn't mean she shouldn't brush up on her Plato one more time - it pays to be on top of things, and if this is the only kind of teaching she can do, the only purpose she has, teaching the basics of ethics to an island of morons, then until she can find a way out of this place, she'll be the best at it there is.
Whether she'll admit it or not, anyway, there's a bit of hope on the horizon. This spaceship could turn out to be nothing, it could be a threat, it could be another way of toying with them, but there is a slim possibility that it is, in fact, a solution. Something that came here must have a way of leaving, as well, and with nearly a year in this place under her belt, leaving is still the only desirable outcome Emma can imagine for her time here. Maybe this weekend, she thinks, she'll find some way to get up there herself, talk her way into it one way or another; she's good at that kind of thing - good at technical things, too, and surely they could use another set of eyes - and it couldn't hurt to get a look at it for herself.
Between that, her little gift from the island (admittedly, she's envious of people who get more interesting things, but there's a strange sense of relief in being able to dye her hair back to the blonde that feels more her than her natural brunette again) and the return of school, she's unsettlingly at ease. She's not even that put out when her grip on her book fails and it, along with several papers, flutter to the ground, forcing her to a stop so she can collect them again.
[Students can find a loose syllabus here, but obviously as this is set after class, tagging in is not required or anything. Old and new welcome, ST/LT, etc.]
Whether she'll admit it or not, anyway, there's a bit of hope on the horizon. This spaceship could turn out to be nothing, it could be a threat, it could be another way of toying with them, but there is a slim possibility that it is, in fact, a solution. Something that came here must have a way of leaving, as well, and with nearly a year in this place under her belt, leaving is still the only desirable outcome Emma can imagine for her time here. Maybe this weekend, she thinks, she'll find some way to get up there herself, talk her way into it one way or another; she's good at that kind of thing - good at technical things, too, and surely they could use another set of eyes - and it couldn't hurt to get a look at it for herself.
Between that, her little gift from the island (admittedly, she's envious of people who get more interesting things, but there's a strange sense of relief in being able to dye her hair back to the blonde that feels more her than her natural brunette again) and the return of school, she's unsettlingly at ease. She's not even that put out when her grip on her book fails and it, along with several papers, flutter to the ground, forcing her to a stop so she can collect them again.
[Students can find a loose syllabus here, but obviously as this is set after class, tagging in is not required or anything. Old and new welcome, ST/LT, etc.]