ipsa scientia potestas est [ETERNALLY OPEN]

[knittingbackwards]

Who| Merlyn and anyone who arranged classes with him, or wants them
What| Merlyn goes back to his first love: teaching
Where| Around the Center and the Capitol
When| Any time after this network post
Warnings/Notes| Probably none

Merlyn is more than willing to make good on his offer of lessons. Those who arranged for him to come and find him will have him show up promptly in the appointed place, a brightly-crocheted bag of books over his shoulder and a cup of tea in his hand. He greets them with a little raise of his tea mug, beckoning them over to sit with him.

Those who didn't make solid arrangements should have little difficulty finding him. He's spending his time largely in the common area or the District 2 suite, alternately reading and scribbling down lesson plans he only intends to keep very roughly to, or knitting ferociously in a corner.

Comments

[justoutrunyou]

Sandy shows up looking freshly washed with a bag of her own bearing the logo of District 12. Her clothes are simple enough, jeans and a T-shirt with a picture of a duck on it and the word "Duck" printed underneath. A leather bracelet with "Sand Sister" stamped into the thickest part of it.

"I wasn't sure what to bring so..." She presents him with a plump looking pastry, the frosting ontop of it shaped into an apple shape.

Because who ate real apples anymore? Frosting fruit was the new craze.

[knittingbackwards]

"Oh! Thank you, my dear." Merlyn looks at the pastry rather suspiciously - he doesn't see what's wrong with actual fruit, forget all this frosting nonsense - and puts it delicately down next to him. He might eat it later, his posture says, or he might not, it all depends.

Still, his smile is warm enough, and he beckons her to come and sit with him. "Where would you like to start? I'm afraid I could only come up with very sketchy lesson ideas, not knowing, of course, what you have already been taught. Exactly why lesson plans are a ridiculous notion, of course," he adds, directly at a potted plant that he already knows has a camera hidden behind it, before looking back at her with that same kind, slightly distracted smile.

[justoutrunyou]

"Um...I dunno. Here's what I'm studying now in school."

She dug around in her bag and produced a thick green binder this one with the Capitol logo. Inside she had drawn all over the binder and it was full of papers with notes on them, math problems, dates in history and pages she should be turning to. Her handwriting is messy but legible at least and the notes give the impression she's trying very hard. The lessons seem to be standard level for someone her age, perhaps even a little advanced, but of course the history is all based on the governments interpretation of events so that's anyone's guess.

"They don't really have stuff like anthropology or sociology or a couple of those other things you mentioned." Especially not Alchemy or magic. The general philosophy however seemed to be printed right onto the inner lining of the binder, still legible despite Sandy's illustrations.

Panem Today. Panem Tomorrow. Panem Forever.

[knittingbackwards]

Merlyn's lip curls at that logo and motto, but he says nothing, leafing through the papers with a ferociously focused expression. Occasionally, he harrumphs and turns back a couple of pages before continuing to read. Any attempts to interrupt or say anything will be met with another loud harrumph and a raise of his finger.

"Hmph," he says at last, and closes the binder with a snap. "Well, I suppose it's not nothing. Their English and mathematics seems reliable enough, at least. Let's bypass that for the moment, and discuss history, shall we? Natural history, that is, since apparently they won't admit to anything more than a few hundred years ago here." His voice makes it crystal clear just what he thinks of that. "I'm afraid my usual teaching methods are rather stymied by this by-our-lady ban on magic, but I'm sure we shall make do."

[contrarianlibrarian]

Maybe some would think it cruel that China didn’t offer to go to the old man herself, but… Well, there is no but. It isn’t a very nice thing to do and China doesn’t tend to offer nice when she can get away with it. Less work for her and nothing personal against those that she smilingly screws over.

She carries a sheaf of blank paper and several pens to the low table in the common area. When she sees Merlyn, she straightens and smiles brightly.

“How good it is to see you—thank you for coming. Would you like a drink? Something to eat?”

An Avox stands ready in the entrance to the kitchen.

[knittingbackwards]

Merlyn casts a long, rather hard look at the Avox, his blue eyes narrowing. Their presence makes him uncomfortable; the idea of commanding them even more so.

"No, thank-you," he decides aloud, after a moment, fixing his gaze on China instead. "No, I don't believe I shall. After all," he adds, with a heavy helping of sarcastic irony, "one must keep one's figure, mustn't one?" Says the man who could probably be replaced by a bundle of twigs and a cotton-wool beard without anyone noticing the difference. "Besides, what's the sense in wasting time? Where shall we begin, hm?"

[contrarianlibrarian]

Seeing his reaction, China nods and dismisses the Avox. "Thank you."

She smiles at his joke, but, all the same, is glad to hear that he wants to get on to business right away. She's more than a little curious about how his teachings may differ from those she received growing up.

"I believe we decided to start with the life sciences. We can skip the basics, if you wish, and I'll do my best to keep up. We must keep the mind in shape as well, don't we?"

[infinitemayonnaise]

"Hey!" Nitou calls out cheerfully to the old man. "I didn't know what I was supposed to bring, but I think I got the important stuff." The "important stuff" is clearly a bottle of mayonnaise, a few pieces of paper he must have scrounged from the garbage somewhere, and a pencil.

[knittingbackwards]

Merlyn blinks owlishly at him, once, then twice. Slowly, one bushy eyebrow rises.

"I see," he says at last, although the eyebrow stubbornly refuses to lower. "Important, indeed. What purpose does the mayonnaise serve, if I may ask?"

[infinitemayonnaise]

"Well," Nitou says, a bit surprised, as though having mayonnaise is the most normal and sensible thing ever, "what if we decide to get something to eat at one point? What then?"

He is super prepared.

[allyorfoe]

Tabris has plenty of reservations about this whole lesson thing, but she figures that it's high time that she expanded her knowledge. This place relies more on written words than Thedas does--At least in Thedas, she had always been able to throw any papers at Alistair, or Nathaniel, or a number of people, and make them read for her.

But Alistair isn't here anymore. In fact, it's not until after her period of grief she allowed herself that she finally makes the arrangements for the lessons.

From Wynne's struggle to lay the foundation, she had an idea of what was needed. She had a little chalkboard and chalk, and paper set aside with pencils. Books were necessary, too, but she couldn't figure out which ones would be best. So she just got a myriad collection of them and thunked them down in a pile.

She didn't want to do this in her room. She'd spent enough time in her room. But doing it in public was unthinkable. She compromises by picking one of the unoccupied bedrooms in Suite 10, and setting up everything there. When he comes, she swings open the door, plopping in a chair, and offers him some donuts. "These are donuts. Bayard loves them." Because a child's endless sweet tooth is a recommendation.

[knittingbackwards]

"Ah. Thank you, my girl." Merlyn takes a doughnut, mostly out of politeness - sugary sweetness is not his favourite thing - and takes a delicate bite out of it, brushing sugar off his beard as he sits down opposite her. Another chunk of the dough goes to the sparrow currently sitting on his shoulder, and then he puts it down on the nearest flat surface, steepling his fingers and looking at her thoughtfully. "A blackboard and chalk? Goodness, that takes me back. Splendid."

He takes a moment to get settled, making sure the door is properly closed and that his cushion is properly arranged, and other such important business. His book-bag on the floor by his feet, a notepad open in his lap, and the sparrow banished to sit and peck at the doughnut, he finally turns his attention to Tabris.

"Now, then. Let's make a start. Could you write me the letters of the alphabet, please? Capital and lower-case. Just so I know where we stand."

[allyorfoe]

"That's how I learned the first time." There isn't much reason to be defensive, but she can't help but huff up a little whenever it becomes immediately apparent that she's being medieval again. She supposes that it might've been a good idea to ask him to help her understand how the fuck any of this new shit works, but he might try to make her read and then they'd be right back on ground level with Tabris holding this dumb blackboard.

She knows that just like Merlin hadn't meant anything by the comment, he doesn't deserve the agitation she feels welling up in her. It's not agitation at him, it's agitation at this frustrating puzzle, this code that she's never been able to fully unlock, even when everyone else around her does it easily as breathing. Even Wynne, with her endless patience, had to admit that Tabris was one of the most challenging people to teach. She guessed it was because she started so late.

Tabris was pretty sure she's just a fucking idiot.

But she tries, taking the chalk and slowly and painstakingly writing out letters. The lowercase ones she managed well enough, the letters wobbly and unsure, but recognizable. Uppercase is different. A few she knows from working with them enough--A for Alistair. R and T. Revas Tabris. The more difficult ones, the ones she can't quite remember, are guessed at--She makes them a bigger version of their lowercase. Close enough.

Merlyn should realize at this point that his work is cut out for him.

[inrestlessdreams]

This was...strange even for Panem's standards but James was the curious sort when his guilt let him be. He was taking the stairs this time around instead of the elevator, a sort of training between errands, so he did pass by District 2 a fair amount of times. So when he spotted the old man, he was pretty sure he was an Avox before he drew closer.

"Uh sir, you do know this is the Tribute Tower, right?" Sunderland asked just a little cautious. Maybe he was senile?

[knittingbackwards]

"For my sins," Merlyn said without looking up, and turned a page of the notebook he was scribbling in. "Hm. No, no, that can't possibly be right. The genetic variation alone..." Then, upon looking up and finding the stranger still there, "Do I know you, young man?"

Evidently not, since the newcomer apparently didn't even know he was a Tribute. Merlyn would consider that sheer laziness, were it not for the fact that he himself had been assiduously avoiding Panem television, and so had no idea who half his fellow Tributes were, either.

[inrestlessdreams]

"Probably not, I'm James, James Sunderland...and you are definitely not supposed to be here unless you're staff or the grandfather of a staff member," James tried to appease the old man's question before asking one himself, "Are you working on something? Are you a teacher?"

He wasn't a bright man, and probably denser than lead but Sunderland was curious about what "genetic variation" meant and why talk about it here.

Nope, couldn't resist.

[lionhearted_victor]

"What are you doing, old man?" Leonidas asked, eyebrows up to his forehead, and a small bag of bird feed in his hand. "There are things called file cabinets. Use them if you're going to start making whatever ludicrous idea you might have." By this point, Cora's just waiting for the inevitable to happen, that Merlyn would be executed or Avoxed...it would not surprise him but it wouldn't be welcomed either. So he allowed Merlyn to do whatever he wanted, within reason of course. Some of the documents read like madness and science, two things that tended to happen simultaneously with this Tribute.

"I see you've kept a lower profile...somewhat."

"you tried" star

[knittingbackwards]

"Filing cabinets," Merlyn scoffed, "are the sign of an untidy mind, which has to do all its organising in those great metal boxes because it can't hold all the information otherwise. Besides, I need to cross-reference." And, although he wasn't stupid enough to say so, to use the chaos of his notes to disguise the seditious among the merely scientific.

Sniffing, he reached over and plucked a half-filled notebook from the pile; one studded with bookmarks and already looking rather dog-eared around the edges. "If you aren't going to say anything helpful," he advised, "don't say anything at all. Did you want something?"

what a good star

[lionhearted_victor]

For a few seconds, Leonidas called Merlyn's bluff and merely shook the bag of bird feed to state his intentions. He was supposed to feed the chick and nothing else but some of the documents did catch his eye. Thankfully it was mostly the scientific stuff, Cora was a visual person after all.

"You know, I've wondered at times if Jason's rant about the world held any water...mostly because it doesn't account for Offworlders," he said as he walked through the suite, "Have you seen those other stars in the sky? Have you met their people?" A rare diplomatic approach.

slams into this post a million years late

[a_minute_younger]

Gary, who has never been one for making plans or particularly adhering to them, is one of those ambiguous cases that happens to find Merlyn furiously knitting in the common area. He doesn't spend nearly as much time here as he used to, now that he's moved out of the suites, and even when he does it's only a brief crash through the bar on his daily jog.

Today is no different. He's not expecting to find Merlyn here, which is probably obvious by his dress--full exercise attire, comfortable t-shirt and slimming shorts, sneakers, looking reasonably tired but still well-kept in that way only a fussy celebrity could be--and he doesn't even notice he's around until after he orders a quick glass of water from the bartender. But after that, Merlyn doesn't have to wait long at all.

"Hey! Old man!" Gary comes trotting up to his table, jogging in place, all wide smiles and breathless energy for something he really never expected to be so excited about. "Hope you've got your running shoes on. Come on, you ready yet?"

i did say eternally open...

[knittingbackwards]

Merlyn looks Gary up, then down, then up and down again. Then, with a raise of one bushy eyebrow, he puts down his knitting. "I hope," he says rather severely, "that you are not suggesting I go running with you. I am very old, you know. My rheumatism would quite prevent it, not to mention that I don't want to."

He did quite enough running for sport at Eton, thank you very much. Enough organised sport for a lifetime, and never mind that it was most of a thousand years ago. Merlyn may walk, he may climb stairs and lift heavy things and generally be pretty spry for such an elderly man, but he does not do sport.

yes good

[a_minute_younger]

Gary looks disappointed, and somewhere in the back of his mind he feels disappointed, at least as a blind reaction to being rejected, but he's able to easily play it off as a teasing exaggeration. "Aw, man! You're no fun at all," he huffs, hands on his hips and bottom lip jutted in a pout. "Whatever--I'll do the running, you can focus on your sweaters or lesson notes and stuff. You can do walking? Please tell me you can do walking. You said you could."

/turns up late with starbucks

[conifer]

Emily smiles a little nervously as she seats herself opposite Merlyn. Part of her is afraid that he's going to put his dangerous viewpoints into his lessons - and as much as she agrees with what he's saying, she's compromised too much to get in good with the Capitol and knows it needs to stay that way. "There wasn't too much in the way of schools in Seven," she says a little apologetically. "I hope I can keep up."

[knittingbackwards]

"I'm sure you will," Merlyn says kindly. "You are, after all, a highly intelligent young woman. Schooling is secondary. Would you like some tea?" He's already rooting in his bag, pulling out a couple of notebooks as well as a Thermos of tea. "I took the liberty of writing out a couple of vital documents as best I could from memory. They may be a little the worse for the experience, but I think they will make better texts than nothing. This one here is Romeo & Juliet, by a fellow called Will Shakespeare, and this one is a rough translation of Beowulf." And both of them have been a cover for writing out much more seditious texts, but she doesn't need to know that. For her sake, he's chosen relatively safe, non-contentious books. He has a lot of time for Emily, and no wish to see her hurt.

[conifer]

Emily blushes a little at the suggestion that she's intelligent, something she's always measured in book smartness rather than life experience, even though she has a lot of the latter - a little too much, she feels. Intelligence was for Capitol scholars, not poor Districters. Even her own mother, the most perceptive and talented person Emily could think of, she wouldn't describe as intelligent as her knowledge was of trees and carving and plants and medicines rather than books and documents.

"Tea would be lovely," she says gratefully. "What are they about?"