7851/Lesson Planning

Lesson Planning
Date of Scene:	16 September 2021
Location:	Classroom - East
Synopsis:	Checking out the classrooms, Michael meets one of the students - and a discussion about geopolitics turns into one about protection and his intentions for the school (and more.)
Cast of Characters:	Michael Erickson, Xi'An Coy Manh

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Michael Erickson has posed:
    There's a fireplace in this classroom.

    There's a fireplace...in the classroom.

    Why is there a fireplace in this classroom?

    Crouched by said fireplace, frowning Michael stares up into the chimney, dressed in a charcoal grey suit of plain cut and excellent quality. Smart but anonymous, that would be him. Frowning up into oblivion as if he could see a bad future down the other end.

Xi'An Coy Manh has posed:
Xi'an Coy Manh - recently returned from her luxury* vacation in space after saving the universe**! - was drawn to the sight of someone, someone in a SUIT bending into the FIREPLACE, like a moth to... you know

She opens the door very quietly and leans inwards.

And is relieved at who she recognizes.

"Thank God," she says. It isn't some kind of Slender-Man apparation being manifested by someone's emergent secondary mutations. Stepping in, Karma laughs. "Are you curious how it works? I suppose it must seem... terribly primitive. And if I remember correctly, we do not make use of it, though perhaps that should change."

"Hello, though, sir; I do not think we were introduced, during the, well," here Shan sort of clicks her tongue, "everything."

* - it was pretty comfy but it was basically a transport vessel, but to an EARTHICAN...
** - disputed

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Just for that, he's going to unfold into her dreams one day, all painted black with a red face. Posing like an insane killer. Because why not.

    Here in reality, though, Michael chuckles and ducks out of the fireplace, rising to his feet and turning a warm smile at the young woman who's entered. "Hi there," he says in an equally warm way, leaning against the mantle. "No, I know how a fireplace works. I'm just wondering why it's /here/. Perhaps you can tell me, miss..."

    A beat. "And I'm Mr. Erickson. It's nice to meet you."

Xi'An Coy Manh has posed:
"Xi'an," says... well, Xi'an, with a slightly lopsided smile. Her hands fold behind her back as she rests her weight on the prosthetic, inclining the opposing foot upwards slightly. "This did used to be a mansion, originally; a huge stately house, and without the benefit of things like central heating. So, if you were up here when it was a bedroom or a sitting room or something similar, you'd be quite glad to have somewhere where you could make a fire, because the alternative was to freeze beneath a heap of blankets."

Shan looks towards the entrance for a moment, then back, and asks, "Do you prefer that name? I don't think anyone would mind if you used something else."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Ahhhh." He looks around the room again at this explanation, nodding thoughtfully. "All right, that makes sense. Thank you, miss Xi'an." Now he looks down at her again, hands sliding into the pockets of his slacks, and shrugs. "I find it works best to use the name I've had on this planet since I came here. The other has...bad memories attached for many of the students. I'd rather not shove that in peoples' faces every day."

Xi'An Coy Manh has posed:
"Oh, if you want to be formal, it's Manh," Xi'an says, "but I thought I should be amiable." She smiles as she says it, stepping forwards then to sit on top of a desk. "It's an interesting answer. So! I understand you are going to be coming on the teaching staff? Are there any books I should order for your use?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Miss Manh." He waves a hand. "Well, you've met my people, I understand, Miss Manh. You know we're a formal sort. And...no! I'm just going to be teaching you from my own knowledge and experience. Which on /this/ planet might be a bit outdated, my living away from home for almost fifty years, but in a state as massive as the Empire, change tends to trickle along." A beat. "Except, you know. Recently."

    He gestures around the classroom. "Here I'm just going to educate students on galactic politics, the universe in general. You know, history and social studies, more or less - it's not going to be a terribly formal affair until I start talking about all the military and technological bits."

Xi'An Coy Manh has posed:
"Oh, I can imagine it's pretty wild for you," Xi'an says. "I mean I empathize with it more than you might think! But you've been here a while so you know that things are, shall we say, less than stable when you are around here." She takes a deep breath and lets it out.

"Do you mind if I ask you a somewhat higher-level question on the topic?" Shan continues, folding her hands on her knee. "-- And, of course, that doesn't mean you can't get reading, even if I guess you won't be pulling journal articles to print out, quite yet."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Students with questions already! He smiles gamely, gesturing to her. "Please, ask."

Xi'An Coy Manh has posed:
"I would not doubt your expertise on matters involving military and technological scenarios and topics in the greater galaxy," Xi'an begins, "and I am sure that you will do your utmost. However, you are one man - is this the polite term, incidentally? Everyone was kind on the ship but it was very, formal? And they were busy, so I did a lot of stargazing and enjoyed the amenities, mostly - ahem, excuse me."

Shan breathes in.

"You are one man and you were in a position to live on our planet for years, decades; how far can we trust your word? Even if you speak without lie or agenda, there will surely be limitations. Gaps, absences..."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    If she were expecting him to be insulted, there's nothing of the sort here. He gestures loosely as he nods, and smiles again. "Look," Michael begins, "Miss Manh. No teacher knows everything, books or no. I'm here to express to you and your students that which exists in my experience - /everything/, short maybe of pure mathematics, has a perceptive bias. You don't have to trust my word, but I will tell you all what I know, as I know it. What you accept is up to you, you know? Same as history."

Xi'An Coy Manh has posed:
"That is very post-modern of you!" Xi'an says. Her head shifts a little to the side. "But no, I am worried about the students. We were very fortunate in some ways - in the sense that we did not have much opportunity to err, or to make long affrays or anything similar, where we could have made promises of great import."

"I also," and here she pauses, pursing her lips and composing her thoughts.

"This is difficult because it involves a complex analogy that is sticking in my head. Would you be bothered if I made telepathic contact with you, in order to demonstrate it? I'll give it my best shot to say aloud if you would prefer not, of course. I understand completely."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I'm not great with telepathy." He smiles, putting the refusal gently. "But I'm a smart guy, Miss Manh. Please. Try and put things to words."

Xi'An Coy Manh has posed:
"OK," Shan says, and then she clasps her hands before her.

And is quiet.

For a while. Long enough that it's awkward. There is no telepathic contact.

"This is difficult because I must work across three languages," Shan says. "But I will elide some details."

"The country of my birth has a very long history. We have a lot of traditions and a lot of old practices, and we were there going back for a very, very long time as these things go. Across thousands of years - which may seem paltry - we stood off everyone who came to confront us, and our main enemies were each other, in our own dispute, in our country."

"About a hundred and seventy years ago, that ended, for the most part, for about eighty years," Shan continues. "This is three, perhaps four of our generations. And then another to finish the battle. Now Vietnam stands with the other countries of Earth, hardly the biggest, hardly the most advanced, but doing alright for ourselves."

"Except," Shan continues, "that a *very* great many people died - and or became monsters, of various sorts - in the process."

"There was a time around 1845 when a warship, from America in fact, came to aid the French, in response to a religious offense," Shan concludes, "and I am a little bit worried, I suppose, that we have just had *our* equivalent of that, here on poor old Earth."

Her fingers curl together, except the index fingers, still pressed together and pointed at the ceiling, "And to make everything worse, of course, I have my own little shades to think of. Do I think of *Earth*... or of *humanity*... or...?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Michael's quiet for a moment, listening to her. Internalizing those words. Thinking of what to say to it. He runs a hand through hair that's made of crystal strands, not keratin. Heaves a breath. "Look," he says, "I...don't know what to tell you. Colonization and interference doesn't change, regardless of the scale. All I can do here, is educate you - in some small way - on what's out there. Who's out there. You deserve that shot. And you know, when I got here, the War was just ending in your country?"

    Michael shakes his head, now. "Like I said. I'm here to help you kids. I stood up with you all because it was the right thing to do - and not just you kids, or mutantkind, but everyone who lives on this planet. My people are...just like America. Or the Romans, actually, because Americans aren't /quite/ so nakedly expansionist." Smirk. "One galaxy is enough for them. I don't think the Majestrix is going to be a problem, but...look, my people are my people. And eventually, the Majestrix will die, or maybe be deposed. Or Hell, she might turn crazy like her siblings, I don't know. But I do know this."

    Michael crouches down now, looking her square in the face. Expression firm. "Look. I am here to help prepare you if something else happens. I won't lie to you, I won't hide things. You may not like what I have to /say/, and talking about the full breadth of the Empire might seem...too much? But considering what you kids just /did/, I think you know that a galaxy-spanning empire can get stopped real fast if you punch them in the right place. But that's what I'm here for. To make sure this planet doesn't suffer the same long history of terribly bloody bullshit that your country - and others in history on this planet - had to go through. All right?"

Xi'An Coy Manh has posed:
Shan listens in quiet.

She does raise her eyebrows at the age remark, doing mental math.

When Michael approaches her, gets down low, she straightens up a little, pivoting her head fractionally down. As if weighing what he says. And then, she says, with a smile, "Thank you, Mr. Erickson. I am glad you are here... and I am glad that you have this attitude. To be honest with you, just that perspective eases essentially every worry I have."

"But I want to be clear with you a little bit," she continues, leaning forwards, "that I am not so much concerned about myself. I am already getting along a little bit and while I would be pleased to audit your class, I do not worry so much about studying now."

Karma kicks her leg a little, not towards Michael; just swinging it a bit, at an off-side angle. "But I expect if you are here for more than a year or two you *will* have my brother and sister in your course."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I'm not here to grade you, so that's good." He takes a deep breath - which turns into a laugh as he sees her face when the math comes out. "And yeah, I'm old. I'm seventy-one." I'm a spy, remember, my people put me through significant genetic surgery, and other treatments, to make sure I could watch this planet for the Empire for a very long time. I'll be around at least another hundred years, assuming I'm not killed." Flashes her a smile that's a little tigheter. "Duty to the Empire. Anyway. In here I'll be teaching about the Empire and galactic politics, all that stuff. Out /there/..."

    He jerks his head to the nearest window. "I'll be teaching hand-to-hand combat, weapons use, tactics, all that sort of thing. I can teach you kids how to survive on a wide variety of planets, frankly, but I don't know if you'd want that. Either way, I'll give you what I can to make sure you're prepared. And." The smile widens a little. "You're welcome."

Xi'An Coy Manh has posed:
"I hope you won't be," says Karma.

"Mm... I am not sure if I want to encourage them for that, especially if they actually do prove to have..." Shan continues, trailing off, "but," she continues, "it will be good to know the tricks out there, too. And you probably know things we had never concieved of."

Shan slides off the desk. "Oh! - I wanted to ask."

"You were hesitant about telepathy, a bit ago. And when I tried my power upon one of D'Ken's henchmen, it was surprisingly easy. Is this... forgive me, I know you may be reluctant to answer this but you may ask Jean or the Professor if you are concerned about my character... Is this common, among the Shi'ar?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    He shakes his head. "My people don't have a lot of telepaths among them - but you'll find it much harder to crack my brainpain, so to speak. Most of the folks in the military are trained to /follow/ orders, so I imagine that there's a certain degree of suppression of will in training to ensure that. I, like most officers, have a much greater degree of willpower. Training makes that more so." Michael shrugs. "And I just don't care to have people in my head without there being a strong need for it. Truthseeing, for example. I'd be fine with that, if need be. Normally, though, I just prefer talking things out."

Xi'An Coy Manh has posed:
"Ah-hah; it is hardly frequent here, of course, but it is much more common around 'these parts,' as they say," Shan says, straightening up.

"If you think you'll want a fire, by the way, I think we can have it fixed up a bit. Have someone clean out the chimney, at any rate."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "That's another reason why the Empire considers this planet so interesting," Michael replies with a chuckle. "At any rate. I'll go over all of this -- don't worry, Miss Manh, I know very well to frame this in such a way as so I won't be leading anyone to believe what I say to be the only facts in existence." He rises again as well, and taps the mantel. "Don't worry about this, too. I'll clean it out myself if need be, I've had them before."

    Now he gestures to the door. "I look forward to having such an inquisitive mind in my classes, for certain. Good evening, Miss Manh."