[For anyone going to Saya's class today will see this sitting in the shop, hood up, waiting to be messed with]

Every year I outline very clearly the requirements to pass my class, and every year we come to this point where some people inevitably miss those requirements. For whatever reason, the schoolboard believes in second chances, and so here it is.

The final is worth 10% of your grade you've done all the work. If your grade is currently at a 50% or lower, it will be worth 60% of your grade.

In the shop is a Spyder 918, generously lent to the shop program by an anonymous donor. The review will encompass hybridization, which I guarantee you, will be on the advanced autoshop test. For the beginning and intermediate classes, if you show up to any extra review session, I can guarantee you that I will cover what will be on your final.

But no matter your level, you ought to come in. The Spyder is only here for a day. Consider it a gift from me to you for sitting through an entire year with me.

Otherwise, I'll see you at the dance. I'm a chaperone.

Hot springs.

Isn't it a little warm for hot springs? The best time for them is the winter, isn't it?

[Although she won't get in a hot spring any time so maybe that's a moot point....]

I suppose a massage might be pleasant. Or just watching.

[She's perched on a rock nearby, but far enough from the edge to avoid getting wet.]

I stepped on one with a stiletto.

[She means a tribble]

I don't understand their physiology.

Do they taste good? Do they serve a biological purpose? What is their evolutionary function?

The don't seem to notice I'm in the room.

[A pause.]

Hello, City. We've been invaded.

Do dead men dream?

What do you dream about?

What would the dead have to dream about? What would they have to think about? Today they came back from the dead. Do the walking dead have a pulse? Vampires?

Bloodsuckers?

Does breathing hurt after you haven't done it?

[A pause.]

Happy Easter.

[It's the ocean! The waves are tumbling and pretty decent today, and the device is on the sand, recording a slight figure in a blue and black neoprene wetsuit catching a wave and riding it, getting in the pipe, and then barreling out the other end.

In another minute she's coming out of the water, laughing - yes, laughing - and shaking her head to get the excess water off. She moves so her device, sets her surfboard upright in the sand and unzips her wetsuit down just a bit to get more sun.

When she speaks, her accent is a touch more Australian than it ever was, with the Namibian still in the background.]

There's a fierce curl out there today; Scholar would love this, I know I'm taking as much as I can out of it. Why isn't anyone else out here?

[She flops back, then remembers why she's out here. She grabs her device.]

I woke up and the hostel I'm staying at [she doesn't remember getting there or where she is but she's sure she's at a hostel] had this huge collection of shoes, so I put them out. I figure the owners will turn up and get them, because they're not mine. If they were mine I would have given them to a charity shop, they look pretty expensive.

[She flops back again]

Come on, someone come out here! The water's grand!

[ooc: replies from torqued!]

Happiness is much easier than most people think.

Frankly, all you have to do is stop caring so much.


[ooc: she will give seriously heartless advice about any topic on the planet.]

[She's pressing her fingers against smoky glass; they're moving along the wall.]

I thought it was just the walls, before I got here. But it's not, is it? It's everything. It's the walls and the tables and the cars. But not the clothes.

But now I'm thinking of cars with a clear polymer engine. And engine that I could see through, anytime I wanted, without taking it apart.

I don't much care for the lack of privacy, though. It makes everyone so nervous.


[Her fingers move away from the glass]

I feel like Cinderella.

I'm sure everyone thinks they look amazing today, and while some of you might, I'm more concerned with pressing matters.

There is sand everywhere.

In my motors and in the engines.

[Her Namibian accent getting just a touch stronger, but she doesn't sound panicked or upset.]

Until this issue resolves itself, I want all employees in and cleaning out the cars. Then we'll try and find a solution, even it it means suspending the cars in air, although if this sand is truly a curse, then we'll clean out engines every day until we come up with a solution.

These days come around and all that happens is that everything gets loud. But there are so many interesting people.

You may come into the Garage as long as you don't touch. Sticky fingers make enormous messes.


[ooc: do what you will!]