[Closed] The Joy of Group Projects

[Aeinsa Zahaarina Salifa]

The World's Most Boring Classroom Brunnhold University

on the 2nd of Vortas, 2719 Morning

Rina knew she should be paying attention to the lecturer. Her parents expected her to go into politics, so paying attention to the lecturer was so hard. She completely understood why the administration had refused to put her in her mother's section of the class, but the professor's droning voice made it difficult for the half-Mugrobi woman to pay attention. It didn't help that this wasn't the area of politics she was going into, and inter-university politics were quite different than the internal politics of the country she lived in. Arranging the transfer of students and research information was complicated, but not nearly as complicated as running the whole nation and, by extent of the treaties that set up the Symvoul, the known world.

So, while she half-listened, she drew in her sketch pad. A quickly sketched drawing of a dress was being refined, details like shading and color being added. At this stage in design, she wasn't sure if she'd have Mr. Feldspar produce the dress -- that was something she decided once the dress was done. If she had her way, she would have all her clothes produced. There was nothing quite like seeing a design come to fruition and being able to see how it turned out, to be able to touch what had once been solely in your head and then on a sketch pad. But Mr. Feldspar had his own business to run and she didn't want to dominate his time. It was probably for the best, since Rina's closet was only so large, and her friends could only take in so many outfits.

"Miss Salifa," she heard the professor's assistant say quietly as he stopped by her desk to hand out her copy of the ledger. She at least had the grace to look sheepish as she closed her sketch book and put her colored pencils away. She flipped through the ledger, sighing.

The next half hour passed in silence only broken by the lecturer, but a chorus of groans was raised as the professor announced that they would be working on a group project. "Yes, I know, you all adore group projects," the professor stated, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "But how can you expect to take proper responsibility for the sacred duty we have to take care of the lower races if you do not know how to work together?"

"Not all of us give a clocking shite about politics," a boy behind Rina griped. Unfortunately, he did it loudly enough that the other students and, more importantly, the professor heard him. Quiet titters broke out, though Rina coughed to hide her laugh.

"Mr. Langerhorn!" the professor chided the student, who gave a dismissive shrug and looked down at his ledger.

"Now, as you'll see, this ledger holds a list of the members of our Assembly and our Incumbents. You will break off into pairs and will be assigned one Assembly member and one Incumbent to interview. You will produce a paper of at least 10 pages thoroughly analyzing these politician's viewpoints on two of the following topics," the professor explained as he turned to the chalkboard. As he wrote, he read off the topics. "The Resistance, Silas Hawke and the so-called Bad Brothers, The Society for Passive Equality, a bill currently in front of the Assembly, or one of the AAF's current operations."

"Should we also analyze the clocking kitchen sink?" Mr. Langerhorn complained, once again a bit too loudly.

The professor turned back to the students. "Well, since you asked Mr. Langerhorn, I believe your group shall add another topic. Of course, I expect your paper to be longer, accordingly. 5 pages should be enough. If I hear you one more time, I will add another politician to your group, also."

Mr. Langerhorn groaned and put his face in his hands.

The professor gave a very thin, satisfied smile and looked at the rest of the class. "The analysis should include information from an interview I will set up with your Assemblyman and Incumbent, along with an analysis of some of their past votes. I will also arrange suitable lodgings for a weekend trip to Vienda, most likely for the last weekend of fall break," the professor said, causing another loud chorus of groans from the class. They had learned to treasure their weekends and breaks and having one impacted by schoolwork was not something they wanted.

The lecturer narrowed his eyes. "There are worse choices. Would you rather we arrange these interviews in the middle of fall break?" he asked, his voice sharp as an arrowhead before he moved on. The class's murmurs of discontent subsided quickly.

The lecturer gave a sharp nod. "I thought not. You will stay in the prearranged lodgings, even if you have family in Vienda. You will also abide by the Brunnhold code of conduct while in Vienda. We will be having a formal dinner with all the Assembly members and Incumbents that have been chosen for this project, since we will be in Vienda on the day we would normally have our formal dinner here. Please be aware that this interview will come very shortly before the paper is due, so I highly suggest you not wait until after the interview to start drafting this paper."

The professor looked like he had finally run out of things to say and started walking along the edges of the seats, grouping students up. He came to Rina and nodded. "Miss Salifa, Mr. Vks. You shall be a group," he said before moving on to the next students.

Rina turned enough in her wheelchair to give Ezre an amused smile. "You'll have to forgive me for not moving to a better position," she winked as the rustles of pairs moving closer together so they could start their studies filled the room. She had seen Ezre around, but couldn't remember whether she had ever introduced herself. "I'm Rina. I promise I'm not going to be a jackerse and make you do all the work."

[Ezre Vks]

this annoying class again

the morning of the 2nd of Vortas, 2719

While Ezre had managed to endure almost an entire year of this convoluted, decidedly Anaxi-skewed survey of international politics class that some full-of-themselves Brunnhold Board Chair had obviously decided to make a requirement for graduation, but the Hoxian wasn't sure that the reward outweighed the cost. There were far more useful classes in his rather limited opinion, and while an awareness of the laws and lawmaking process of the Six Kingdoms was, indeed, important to understanding how the world worked, he admittedly wished it didn't require wading through so much cultural bias to grasp at kernels of truth contained within their lectures and texts.

Still, he dutifully sat at his desk near the window, inked fingers tugging at the itchy collar of the green wool uniform he'd still not gotten used to after almost three years of study here. The young Guide had taken sufficient notes in his opinion, dark eyes dipping downward to glance over his writing, teeth against the tattooed line that now divided his lower lip and trailed downward over his chin. His peers had noticed in Yaris, of course, but only Lilanee had bothered to actually ask instead of assume. Ezre was aware that he was part of a relatively (purposefully) unknown group of people, isolated in a part of the already quite aloof Kingdom of Hox.

This particular professor was no exception, of course, and he'd felt the weight of the older man's judgment since this last quarter of his ninth school year began.

Glancing up but not sideways at the complaint of Mister Langerhorn, Ezre did his best not to roll his eyes. The Anaxi shared his dorm floor and while he was already aware of the boy's opinions on politics, he wasn't quite sure what he cared about at all. Giggles ensued in the wake of his disruption and the Hoxian sighed, composure even and undisturbed beneath the carefully-honed layers of his rhakor.

From behind him, he felt a nudge, and when he looked, a ledger was being passed in his direction. Taking it with a bob of his head, he flipped through the carefully copied pages of names, arching a slim brow in barely expressed protest to the announcement of a group project and a long paper. A few other students groaned at the announcement, voicing their equally strong objections to being yoked to the academic efforts of one of their peers. Sometimes, one could be fortunate, but others—

Oh.

The political figures were assigned.

Tccchh.

It was the last weekend of Fall Break. Nevermind a bunch of ninth year students who might have wanted to make plans. Not that he did, of course, other than maybe finding an excuse to drag a particular Hessean into the Stacks to enjoy his favorite dsoh restaurant.

Not frowning, not quite, Ezre's field dampened and he narrowed his focus on the few names he knew in the ledger, gritting his teeth at the various requirements this assignment was beginning to stack up for the entire assembled class. He could've found somewhere to stay in Vienda on his own (or perhaps with Lilanee), and in their ninth year, there was no need to confine near-adult students into such narrow constraints when it came to final research projects. Finally, the dark-haired Guide couldn't help but huff at the threat of a formal dinner, as if that was the final blade of grass that crushed the kenser's spine even before he heard who his partner would be for the interview and paper writing process.

Miss Salifa. Ah. It could have been worse, really, and while Ezre hardly blinked an eye at being called Mister here in Anaxas, far from willing to argue the definition of cxîl with every member of Brunnhold's faculty and staff, the Hoxian turned in his seat to acknowledge the Mugrobi woman with a nod of his head, delicate features as inexpressively neutral as usual, before he passed on the ledger to the next student in front of him. Everyone began to move in order to be closer to their assigned pairs, and aware of Rina's limitations without at all feeling it necessary of her to apologize for them, he gathered his things and stood, moving to switched esks with the blond who'd been sitting next to the young woman in her wheelchair.

He remained standing for a moment, right hand with its nicks and cuts on the palm and tattoos on the back raised while he bobbed his head gently in greeting, voice soft and comfortably devoid of any perceivable emotion or judgment. Ezre sat then, shifting so his travel worn satchel took over the entire surface of the desk and setting his leather bound notebook on top of it, both hands lacing together to hold it all in place.

"There is nothing to forgive, Salifa-vumein." The young Guide shook his head gently, impressed that Rina had managed to circumvent the inconvenient and often downright inconsiderate architectural choices of the Kingdom of Anaxas in the first place, "We have shared a few classes, though most of them have been Clairvoyant and monic theory in nature. You are not a stranger, but we do not travel in the same social circles."

Ezre Vks didn't really travel in any social circles, had he been honest, unless Lilanee Kuleda could be considered an island all her own. His friends consisted more of faculty and staff—the Clairvoyant professors, his mortuary sciences peers who were no less strange than himself, and a Viendan raen dressed in the skin of an Incumbent—

Roa bless whoever had Tom Cooke as their assignment for this project!

—for he doubted it would be himself and Rina.

"In my homeland, work is done best when its burden is shared equally among those with hands able to do it." He offered, tilting his tattooed chin down the classroom toward the professor, "Though I admit I have very little enthusiasm for this class even if I will not hesitate to do my part. I suppose we will be informed of our representatives before class is over?"