[OPEN] It's Exam Season

[curingidiocy]

WHO: Dr. Ratio, Itadori Yuji, Fushiguro Megumi, any other student taking the exams + anyone who enters the cafeteria
WHAT: A bunch of teenagers willfully subjecting themselves to exams, with Dr. Ratio as the proctor.
WHERE: Main Base Cafeteria
WHEN: May 13 + 14
WARNINGS: None unless you think high school exams deserve a warning

[ Ratio had not expected to be proctoring exams so soon after arriving to an isolated, ruined planet, but life always had its ways to surprise you. It is a development he welcomes, however, as it means there are students interested in learning.

Unfortunate then that the base has little to no locations suitable for education. The library's overhead lights were broken, and there were far too few seats. The only option at such a short notice was the cafeteria. But Ratio is adaptable, for adaptability is sign of an open mind and excellent problem-solving skills, both of which he has in spades.

Over the two days of May 13 and May 14, Outsiders will find a corner of the cafeteria cordoned off for the exams, blocked by bristol panels that separate the space from the rest of the cafeteria. A man with a plaster bust over his head will be standing near by, apparently proctoring the exams. ]


[ Top-level sections in the comments! ]

Comments

[curingidiocy]

[ The topic swings back to something more comfortable, and Ratio latches onto it with an elegant curve of his brow and a look that invites their usual friendly banter. Not quite an apology for upsetting Aventurine, but a peace offering nonetheless. ]

If you are to attend my classes, I will not permit you to leave without learning something from them. You will find no leniency from me.

[stonehearts]

( He will accept it, glad for the chance to settle things between them. Aventurine... dislikes the idea of being in a foul mood with Ratio, given that the man can always go toe for toe with him. It makes for a good companion. )

Oh? And what sort of things can you possible teach me, professor?

[curingidiocy]

[ Mollified by Aventurine's reply, Ratio begins to consume his meal properly, his stomach settling from an anxiety he hadn't been wholly aware of until now. That he would be so unsettled by upsetting Aventurine... it is because he cares about Aventurine and enjoys his presence. Because he truly considers Aventurine a friend. Perhaps his only one in the entire universe.

He doesn't want to lose that bond. ]

Anything you please, so long as it falls into the realm of my expertise.

[ He looks at the gambler, searching. He's made the same offer a few times before, often asking if the man had any interest attending his classes. This offer is as genuine as all his previous ones. ]

Interested?

[stonehearts]

I can't say there's much for you to teach that's relevant to me.

( It isn't a 'no', but more of a sideways step. Aventurine has no resentment over the lack of a formal education -- he doubts he would have done well in a university like the one Ratio teaches in, too. No, he's more of a street learning type.

And now, well. He's really not the type to find any joy in the thrill of learning just to learn. )

Why, do you have something in mind?

[curingidiocy]

[ Ratio is well aware that Aventurine would not excel in the structured format of academia. All that he has learned has been out of necessity and experience. But the gambler is a clever man—he picks up far more than others in each moment, and learns to apply them deftly and appropriately. He is a man of practice, whereas Ratio is a man of theory. They are complementary, and that is why they are an excellent team. ]

I did not say it must pertain to academia. Only that it falls under my expertise.

[ And, as both of them know, Ratio is quite the eclectic bin of knowledge. The scholar has briefly shown that hand to Aventurine a few times, from sleights of hand to eccentric hobbies and even playing strange instruments (the theremin had delighted the gambler, for it was a unique, antique instrument mostly lost to time, and the question of how Ratio learned to play this rare instrument must have plagued his mind for a good while).

(The answer is, unfortunately, quite mundane. Early in his career, he made acquaintance with a researcher who had a passion for rare instruments. That researcher had been one of the smarter ones—they'd figured out that they could bargain for favours by teaching him something that piqued his curiosity. He'd only expressed his interest in the complex technicality of music just once and they'd made use of that information instantly.) ]

I do not, but the offer remains open, as always.