died8yearsago | Office #26; Sunday [09/30].

Holding her office hours at the least minute on the day when most people were focusing on getting out of town or making the most out of their visit with their family and friends before they left was a brilliant idea, if you asked Rosa, and she felt quite smug about it, of course, because no one could accuse her of not holding office hours and she figured the chance of anyone still coming in was slim to none. What would she even talk to a parent about, anyway? She honestly couldn't remember the names of any of her students until she glanced at a roster, and then she couldn't tell you who was who, though she could maybe make a few decent guesses. And she didn't think it mattered, anyway. No one was going to come by on the last day.

But the door was open in case there was someone obnoxious enough to do just that, and they'd find the Bad Ass Bitch Survival Guide teacher there at her mostly empty desk, feet up, idly making use out of a dart board she'd put up on the opposite wall. With ninja stars, though, not darts.

She figured that would effectively show anyone who came in what sort of person they were dealing with right from the get-go. It would ultimately help save time, really.

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That slim to none chance? Didn't much apply when your potential visitors could be led by the Force.

So there was a red-skinned Sith Lord showing up in the doorway and looking around, critiquing Rosa's aim. "You are the 'Bad Ass Bitch' teacher?"

Well, crap.

And Rosa's aim was impeccable, thank you. The only reason she was going for the outside rings by now was because she'd already hit the bulls-eye a few throws ago and was too lazy to get up and move it to make way for the next round yet. She still had a few more shuriken to go before she ran out. But she did give one more pointed toss before turning to address the nerd still visiting teachers on Sunday.

Then she was going to stare for just a moment, brow wrinkling, because it felt somehow worse that it would be someone clearly not human, and she sighed and prepared herself for a conversation that would consist of a bunch of things she'd have to ignore or dismiss because they sounded straight up stupid. "Yup," she allowed, "that's me. Which one of the future bad ass bitches," she still couldn't bring herself to use the s-word if she could help it, and, credit to the kids, this designation applied pretty well to them anyway, "is yours?"

She had a guess, what with the red hair and the weird face and all. It would be a wrong guess, but it was still a guess.

"Lana Beniko," Darth Vowrawn answered. "Who I trust is already somewhat of a 'bass-ass bitch'," yes, he was amused by that terminology, "but still does have some way to go. What is it you have to offer toward that?"

Rosa...should really try to learn which name went with which student before these sorts of things, shouldn't she? But she did recognize the name, that was a good thing. True, she had a list of them, so it wasn't really that impressive, but it was a start. And she just hoped that tailoring her answers to be general and applicable to anyone in her class would work just fine. It was all pretty much the same stuff, anyway.

"Yeah, she's got a lot of...spunk," Rosa tried. Definitely her class as a whole right there, and she shrugged. "It's mostly just kind of a grab-bag class at the moment, useful things for every day life. Defense, first aid, self-care. We're probably going to head into a few classes covering weapons soon..."

She quirked a brow at the visitor. "Is there anything in particular you'd like to see her learning?"

Figured fishing ideas out of parents would be a much better method of getting ideas for classes than trying to pump thoughts out of the troopers, at any rate.

Darth Vowrawn raised his eye-ridges, then thought about it. "Infiltration. Subtlety. Sometimes it's a way of survival; sometimes it can be the best way to get in a position to strike."

Oooh. Infiltration. That was a good one. Rosa's head nodded a little; Halloween was coming up, too. She wondered if Peralta would mind if she stole a little page from his book with that one.

Of course he wouldn't mind. Because she wasn't going to tell him.

But now she was kind of wishing she'd done office hours earlier to wring more ideas out of parents. She could have a whole syllabus planned by now.

"I'll have to keep that in mind," she said. "Not a bad point."

"I do have some experience," Darth Vowrawn answered wryly. "What are your qualifications?"

"Not much," Rosa snorted after a second, picking up another shuriken and inspecting the blades. "I'm only teaching this class because I have to."

And she tossed it toward the board with a flick of her wrist, sinking it easily into the cork. No point in putting in the effort of pretending she knew what she was doing, here; might as well be honest and hope someone complained enough that she could stop doing it.

"Oh?" Darth Vowrawn stretched out a hand with an almost identical flick in reverse, and pulled the blade from the board and returned it to her with the Force. "Why is it you have to? And why this class in particular?"

Well, that was...unnecessary. After Rosa got over that small moment of shock that still managed to come with anything weird like that happening around here, she stared at where the shuriken had been displaced and landed in front of her on the desk. And then she stared for a moment at the visitor.

Because seriously?

It got a little harder to not care when you now had to worry about someone throwing your weapons around with their minds or magic or whatever. But she felt she was doing a pretty decent job of not showing it.

"Part of my assignment here," she said. "And if I'm stuck teaching something, I figured I might as well make it good."

That may or may not have been Darth Vowrawn's intention; he wasn't letting on.

"It certainly seems more useful than some of her other classes, at least in potential," he allowed. "What weapons will you be covering?"

"Greetings!" Bunsen said cheerfully. "I am looking for a lab assistant for my university next year. Might you suggest any--" he coughed discreetly, "Bad Ass Bitches?"

A Muppet saying that was just wrong, Rosa. WRONG.

Seemed it was just Rosa's weekend to make people feel just wrong about the world as a whole.

So, in other words, a mild success.

"Uhhhh...." Because Mr. Move-Shit-With-His-Mind wasn't enough already, there was now this at her doorway. She decided to just ~~RNG~~ pick two lucky students because how would she even have any idea how to answer that question? She didn't even really know who was who. "I don't know. Try...Ringo and Uma."

How were those even names? Whatever. Good luck with that, girls.

Bunsen carefully wrote those down. "Thank you very much."

Poor girls.

"Hello, Detective Diaz," Paris said, her nanny trailing along behind her. "Do you speak Portuguese, or just Spanish?"

"Kind of presumptuous to just assume I speak Spanish, isn't it?"

She did, of course, but that wasn't the point.

Rosa tilted her head a little curiously, though, at the woman tagging along behind that one girl (one of several) from her class.

"I can follow along with Portuguese pretty good, but I can't really speak it. Why?"

"Because my nanny speaks Portuguese," Paris said. The older woman behind her gave Rosa a slightly sheepish wave, "and I'm sure she'd love to hear how well I'm doing in her native tongue."

Blowing past the presumptuous to speak Spanish part? It's Paris, so of course!

Office #26; Sunday [09/30].

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