doubleohblonde: (Bond calls this look Blue Steel)
Bond sat at his desk, focused intently on his computer as he typed away furiously. Everything about this upcoming class had to be perfect, nothing else would do.

His office door was open.
doubleohblonde: (Bond is driving)
Today the Danger Shop was set up to overlook a stunning vista, with a majestic racing track (the likes of which you usually only saw in video games or very expensive spy movies) cut into the sides of a series of cliffs. The effect was spoiled only a very little when you took a good look at the vehicles Bond had chosen for the students to drive.

"Driving," Bond began. "Is a vital skill. However, since turning students into skilled drivers in the course of one lesson is beyond even my skills, so we'll focus on the most important driving skill of all today. Not crashing. By using vehicles with simplified controls, you should be able to focus on that without the need for further instruction."

"However, since the most dangerous hazard on the road is other drivers, we're going to make things interesting," he added, gesturing to a rack of cut-down paint-ball guns. "Whilst your main objective today is to not crash, your secondary goal is to prevent your fellow students from achieving that goal. In any case, the safeties are on, so even if you do crash, no harm will come of it. So you can start whenever you're ready."

[ooc: wait for ocd up.]

[Class Roster|Previous Classes]
doubleohblonde: (Bond is in the room)
Bond had spent most of his week pretending that the previous weekend hadn't happened. Part of that had involved not doing anything the least bit connected with it. Including checking his email.

Which was why he was only now seeing the receipt for a sent but now deleted email, one he didn't remember sending. Oh, well, it had probably just going into the ether, never to return, like all the others he'd sent to that address over the last few months. No need to worry, right?
doubleohblonde: (Bond is reading intently)
Bond was really looking forward to this whole homecoming brouhaha. Really. That was why he was asleep in his office chair with a book over his face.

So maybe he wasn't all that excited about it.

[Door closed, post open.]
doubleohblonde: (Bond is glum)
Bond's liver was taking a bit less punishment than this time last week, mostly due to the fact that after going through his entire stash of alcohol, he was going to have to stretch things out until he built up a stockpile again.

In any case, he looked slightly less likely to shoot the nearest person if they looked at him sideways. The door was still closed though.

[post is open though]
doubleohblonde: (Bond is a sad panda)
Bond had started drinking yesterday afternoon, and despite pacing himself, hadn't really stopped since. He had, however, run out of his ready supply of alcohol in his room and since he had absolutely no desire to be there without the anaesthetic effects of 100 proof, he'd made his way to his office to raid his emergency stash.

If anyone asked, he'd claim he was preparing for class on Wednesday.

[door is closed, post is open]
doubleohblonde: (Bond is totally not imagining you naked)
Bond was quite pleased with how the previous day's lessons had gone, especially since none of his studetns had done anything particularly stupid. As a result, he decided to move up one of the more...relaxed lessons in the schedule for the next week.

The door to his office was open.
doubleohblonde: (Bond is reading intently)
Bond was in is office working on the next few weeks' lesson plans. He didn't want his students to get too complacent with his classes.

[open!]
doubleohblonde: (Bond is dubious)
Bond had considered this week's class a success, and was looking forward to something of lazy office hours today.

At least until he found the chorus of drunken skunks on his desk. Who couldn't even sing in key. This was shaping up to be a long day.

[Door is open!]

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James Bond

January 2016

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