#Aesop's Foibles

[ask-aesop-sharp]

Professor, will you be my dad?

Aesop laced his fingers and rested his chin on the back of his hands, looking deep in thought. Perhaps his looks may imply otherwise, but he was yet young enough to be... keenly and uncomfortably aware of linguistic shifts among his students. Something told him to tread lightly, at first...

"Are you perhaps in want of a mentor or role model? If so, I could hardly recommend myself, but, if you are truly without guidance in your life, I may... perhaps be able to offer any assistance I am able to." He cleared his throat. "If this is your way of telling me you truly have no safe place to stay, I can't say I'd have recommended coming to me first of all people. But you're welcome to visit my office after hours. We'll certainly get you taken care of."

[ask-aesop-sharp]

"Professor Bakar... you're a beast master. Please, wrangle these imaginations and return them to their enclosure. For our own good..."

You and Professor Sharp just need to rail me already and stop being teases

I mean the real question is individually or together?

@ask-aesop-sharp you've caused imaginations to run wild.

[suadcampbell]

MUMMY DEAREST

MUMMY DEAREST

My Mummy is the dearest mummy in the crypt. We stay wrapped in each other’s arms 364 days a year. She tells me cautionary tales and Aesop’s Foibles, and fairy tales from grim brothers. They give me nightmares!  But the best time we have together is on Halloween. At dusk, the entrance to the crypt scrapes open. We rise and wriggle and squirm to get our bones moving, then we teeter toward the light, grab our rusty buckets, and go forth. The first thing we see are the bare, gnarled limbs of the trees stretching and twisting this way and that. Black cats scamper, witches ride and wield their brooms, vampires seek blood, their fangs shine, ghosts whisper by,  and monsters, tall, short, ragged, wounded, and banged up, lerch, lumber, and stalk. They terrify me! But nothing will keep us from going to our usual haunts where the houses twinkle orange light, jack-o’-lanterns grin evilly, and skeletons hang from eaves. Nothing will stop me from ringing the doorbell and yelling “Trick or Treat!” People hold their noses and step back when they near us. But they smile and say, “Hella cool, man. Totes believable.” Oh, the trouble I have choosing candy from the stash of assorted treats. I cannot simply take one. Or two. After all, I have 364 days to while away, and it’s not as if my teeth are going to rot. Mummy takes candy too; she doesn’t eat as much as I do because she’s watching her carbs and doesn’t want to gain weight or get type 2 Diabetes, which can lead to amputations. She always gives me her extra goodies.

Sometimes we go in the haunted houses that people make in their garages. I love-hate them because they’re spooky, but Mummy likes them, and I go in them with her because she’s the dearest and I don’t want her to be frightened and on her own. 

Every once in a while, a little person--like me--dressed as a princess, hands me her tiara. I wear it proudly. Mummy and I always stay out until dawn. We point and laugh at the funny clothes people wear, and how silly lots of them look. And cold. Goose-bumpy.  I don’t know how the cheerleaders don’t turn to ice. I am all wrapped up but still feel like a Popsicle.

Before we leave the houses all lit up with orange lights, we make sure to find one that plays “The Monster Mash,” and we mash our hearts out. We have to be careful, though, Mummy says, or it will be our undoing.

When all the porch lights have gone off, we work our way towards home, careful to avoid the witches who are flying crankily from too much candy, and the vampires who are stumble-drunk on blood, and the monsters who clomp, thump, and bump along. The owls screech, the coyotes howl, cats hiss, a furry animal screams, and soon we are crypt sweet crypt. The door scrapes shut, and Mummy loosens my wrap and I loosen hers to adjust for candy consumption. I give her a Hershey’s Kiss; she gives me one. We lie down and fall into sweet dreams, Mummy dearest and I.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, friends! 

[verba-vintage]

AESOP'S FOIBLES: A Compendium Of Human Frailties / Oscar Berger / 1947~ Pink Room ~ 170216 by ThePinkRoom http://ift.tt/2dARupp

[artsforlifenonprofit]

Auditions: “Aesop’s Musical Foibles” January 14, 2017, 9AM, SSB Auditorium. Auditions are open to ages 6 and up. Production cost is $125. Auditions will include a song that will be taught, cold readings from a script, and basic movement. Students must be accompanied by a parent or guardian and should wear comfortable clothes and shoes that they can dance in. Performances: February 18 – 3 p.m. and 7 p.m. and February 19 - 2 p.m. in the SSB Auditorium.

[ask-aesop-sharp]

I often dream of you devouring me, your nose and chin covered in my juices, giving me the best pleasure I've ever known

I long for you to gently take me, and make me feel you inside me, making me moan out in pleasure, my dear Aesop, make me see stars

Yours,

Elle

a recently graduated hogwarts student 😉

[ask-aesop-sharp]

"Dear Students and Faculty Alike,

In light of... recent events about the school concerning the mistreatment of my students, I shall make my position abundantly clear: anyone found harming (physically, verbally, or otherwise) my students shall find themselves expelled from these halls faster than they can say 'wiggenweld'.

That said, I confess to having been trained in grief counseling as part of my role as an Auror. Should anyone need an understanding ear, do not hesitate to send me an owl, or visit me in person, no matter the hour. I assure you what is said will be kept between us, and I shall do what I can to help you feel safe.

Yours,

Prof. A. Sharp"

[kitkatopinions]

I'm still thinking about this, so it's time to talk about how I would do Sherlock Holmes inspired characters in RWBY.

Option One: Actually evil Watson and Holmes working for Salem. The character inspired by Holmes can actually be very similar to the Watts we have in Canon (with a couple design changes and name change to accommodate, 'Arthur Locke' maybe.) A genius who had once faked their own death, has a rivalry with his coworkers, pretentious, sometimes underhanded and sneaky and seems much more concerned with recognition and his research than anything else. The Watson character by contrast would be a more sympathetic character, the Holmes character's old secretary from Atlas perhaps, someone with a strong combat based semblance who seems to be part of Salem's group just for the Holmes character and acts as a bodyguard sort of figure and sounding board for their ideas. This Watson character might help tend Oscar's wounds in V8, but be unwilling to turn against Salem out of their loyalty to the Holmes character.

Option Two: I like Neon Katt and Flynt okay but also you could replace them with a Holmes and Watson based duo, the Holmes character with some kind of information-gathering based semblance and the Watson character with a healing semblance, and they could LOOK the part of nice respectable Atlas students but as soon as they start talking, Weiss and Yang realize the Holmes character is a mouthy over-confident and very blunt know-it-all who treats the whole fight like a game they're winning, and the Watson character is a rough around the edges but more down to earth person who acts open and friendly with them but is clearly all instinct when it comes to fighting and no technique (which throws off Weiss.) These two could have a stronger role in V7-V8 and possibly could also be shadowing the Ace Ops as new Hunters just like Team RWBY. Also at some point they could mention their other teammates Leslie and Renee (based off Lestrade and Irene Adler.) Also they should either both be boys that are dating or they're both girls that are dating.

Option Three: I never got the whole 'let's make Robin Hood into a politician' thing with Robyn Hill, so... Why not move Robyn and May and the others into JUST a vigilante role (or revamp Robyn completely) and make the politician fighting with Jacques and arguing with Ironwood a Sherlock Holmes figure? They can even have Robyn's semblance, they can make appearances on TV and be all over the news and be trying to investigate all the mysterious goings-on in Atlas and Mantle, and then they could have a partner/campaign manager that's based off of Watson.

Option Four: I never liked basing the Ace Ops after random Aesop's Foibles, so why not have the Ace Ops based on Sherlock Holmes stories, with a Holmes, Watson, Lestrade, Irene Adler, and Moriarty (the Moriarty character secretly being a baddie like using and manipulating Jacques or working for Salem or whatever.) The Holmes character could be the leader and a Clover replacement (with an information semblance rather than a luck semblance,) and then either everyone could assume they're dead or that they're dying and then boom miraculous recovery Reichenbach style OR they actually DO die as a subversion of the fakes they're death thing and everyone is all sad.

Anyway, those are my ideas.

I still can't believe that Arthur Watts is meant to be inspired by John Watson. It's so badly done, bro.

[ask-aesop-sharp]

Dear professor Sharp,

Follow up question, have students ever declared their affections straight out? Have they tried to not so subtly hint at very suggestive situations? That's probably not how it works in reality, but alas, I have only read books.

Much love

-S. Devereux (a very curious 7th year)

Ps. How often do you ever actually have encounters with these admirers????

Aesop leaned back in his chair for a moment, reminiscing on a rather uncomfortable memory he tried his best to suppress. Though much like the incurable pain in his knee, there are some things a person simply doesn't live down easily - and his colleagues liked to remind him of that. Still, he had hope for one, so why not the other? Chuckling to himself he reached for his quill...

Miss Devereux, I'm sure it hasn't escaped your notice, at least one student in a class asks me about it, that any personal effects I carry with me are... for a lack of better description: quite well secured. Whether it be with a double buttoning pocket, an exceptionally well charmed wallet chain, or simply keeping the item so well hidden on my person that only a fool would go fishing for it, I do keep an exceptionally close eye on my belongings. Likewise, there are several locked cabinets in my classroom, and several more I keep in my personal office. Much to the chagrin of would-be pilferers, a simple Alohomora won't be enough to get them open (though I do so enjoy a laugh at watching them try, when they aren't aware I'm nearby). I, and only I, carry the sole key to each of them - I assure you this is relevant to your inquiry. I hadn't been a year or two separated from the Ministry, and in my role as Potions Master when, well, I'm afraid I was a bit careless. Perhaps my experiences as an Auror still predominated my thoughts... or, perhaps, I had simply forgotten what incorrigible little bastards some teenagers can be. Forgive my brusque generalization. I'm not sure how the concoction was brewed, or otherwise "acquired", but an unknown Slytherin student managed to spike my personal stash of Firewhiskey. ...with Amortentia. Just enough to be effective, and just a small enough amount even I didn't notice the change in aroma - I suppose I can commend them for their expert dosage, at least. Fortunately, I'd already locked myself into my personal quarters for the night - less fortunate was I when @ask-professor-weasley came to investigate a commotion she likened to, in her words, "a rabid, lone wolf gone mad, trying to rut the moon". She and I haven't spoken of it since... and I appreciate Matilda's excellent tact. Other than that, it's mostly anonymous love letters and crude notes I confiscate during class. I keep a box of my favorite, and most embarrassing ones in the top drawer of my desk, if you are ever in want of a good laugh. Yours, Prof. A. Sharp

[ask-aesop-sharp]

Dear Professor Sharp,

A couple of people were talking about how they believe teachers were like at our age and I am curious as to know what you were like as a teenager

Hope you are well.

Aesop tapped his fingers rhythmically on the edge of his desk, a smirk playing on his lips as quite a few memories came back to him of his school days - some better than others.

"Well, I could fabricate some moralistic superiority tale, in hopes of guilting my students into being well behaved and diligent, bu-u-ut... honesty is the best policy." He snickered, but continued on in his typical gruff, near monotone voice.

"Around my second year I, and a classmate, began a little "under the table" potions operation. For a finder's fee, paid to my partner, and an 'inconvenience' sum paid to myself, I'd offer the service of collecting potions ingredients. Particularly the ones that were a nuisance to find, or otherwise difficult. Fresh is best, you know.

Anyway, we'd usually sneak off in the night to pinch the forbidden plants in the greenhouses, and for everything else I'd slip over to J. Pippin's - we had a discount for being his best customers. The rest went to Honeydukes and other nefarious things, heh. By third year, we'd caught on to which student's families were struggling for school supplies; no charge for them. So you might say, like most teenagers, I was an incorrigible little bastard. Occasionally redeeming."

[ask-aesop-sharp]

I've got a question for you Professor Sharp. How do you pronounce your first name? The Encyclopaedia tells me "ee-sop" but I've heard pupils say "eh -sop" about the halls of Hogwarts. So, which is it?

Professor Sharp furrowed his brow, but wore a wry grin all the same; grateful for such a simple, friendly inquiry.

"Well, it's derived from old Greek; the 'original' Aesop, as it were, living some time around the 6th century B.C.E. So, if you'd like to be true to the original pronunciation, yes, 'EE-sop' would be correct. However, I've heard a number of creative pronunciations over the years from colleagues and students alike."

He tried to force a smile, but, it was clear he wasn't entirely fond of what he had to say next; even if it was a fond memory. "I once had a fellow Auror I worked with, on a number of occasions, take to calling me... 'Soppy'."

"Anyway, yes 'EE-sop' is... technically correct, but personally, I've taken a liking to 'Ay-sup', myself, if you so choose to use it as well."

[ask-aesop-sharp]

Professor Sharp, I overheard you being unsure whether you are grateful or not for your life having been saved by the Blood-replenishing potion. I'm very sorry, sir, but I would ask you to not speak like that. I am aware that you've had your fair share of pain in life, many times greater than most of us will ever know, but you you also have to understand, that many of us indeed are grateful that your life was saved by that potion. Many of us would be greatly saddened by your demise, many of us would shed tears. Please, think of us on your bad days, those who are fond of you, and ready and willing to offer a helping hand, or a shoulder to lean on.

Aesop leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful for a moment, before donning a vague grimace of shame and regret.

"Forgive me, you are most certainly correct. Sometimes, when I am left alone with my thoughts I fail to remember that so many of the people around me are young, impressionable, and trying their best to find themselves... who they are, who they hope to be. Though life has been unfair to many of us, it's not what we should be taught to expect; the contrast of poorer times allow us greater appreciation for the better times. Even the stars cannot shine without a bit of darkness...

And, it's with that I remind you, and all my students, no matter how gruff and impatient I may sound at times, I want nothing more than to see each and every one of you shine. Perhaps that's why I do seem so impatient, I see the potential in each and every one of you... it would be dreadful to see any of that go to waste. Soon, myself and the other professors, guardians, and role models in your life will have to step aside and hand the helm over to you. The least I can do is to ensure I've prepared you amply to navigate.

At times I forget that I, too, can still shine in spite of the darkness around me; should someone hold the mirror up long enough for me to realize.

Do not forget the greatness that resides in each of you, for I certainly will not."

[ask-aesop-sharp]

Professor Sharp,

I was wondering...what is your favorite potion and why?

Looking up from his desk, he offered a brief smile; thankful to be asked about his expertise, for a change, rather than the... sudden array of other topics brought before him.

"This, here. Do you recognize it?" Reaching into his suit jacket, he fished around for a moment before loosening a vial from a secure pocket. The bottle was slightly smaller than the palm of his hand, rather flat and flask-like in shape - its contents a dark, shimmering red that appeared viscous, and almost sticky.

"Blood-Replenishing Draught. Simple in name and purpose, surprisingly tricky to make, as it contains unicorn horn. I started keeping a vial on me at all times, per the advice of a colleague, before coming back to Hogwarts to teach. It, ah, saved my life, once..."

Pursing his lips there was a distant gaze in his eyes before he put the vial back into his pocket. "...I've yet to decide if I'm grateful for that or not."

[ask-aesop-sharp]

To be fair to everyone Professor, you are a very handsome man. There aren't many young members of staff at Hogwarts so it does make you more of a target. Your gruff personality doesn't help with that either, as a gruff personality paired with exceedingly good looks is sure to win over everyone's hearts. You need only look at Mr. Darcy and his fanbase to understand.

Aesop leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful, and not a small amount of confused. Perhaps it was agitation, impossible to tell with his stony visage, most of the time.

"With good reason, too... with age comes experience and wisdom." Clearing his throat, he quickly ran a roster of his fellow professors through his mind, weighing their wit against his woe. "Ah, Professor Hecat is an excellent example."

There was a long pause as an unnamed house elf shuffled in with a tray of various, and odd looking, vials and began arranging them on the shelf behind his desk.

"Good looks? I suppose, yes, if you have an affinity for cracked plaster and peeling wallpaper." He chuckled at his own expense, but a smile lingered on his face. "Are you certain about that? Even Headmaster Black compared my personality to, in his words, 'having all the charm of trying to snog a gargoyle' - ah, well, Mr. Darcy? Is that the Ravenclaw head boy this year, or...?"

With a snap, the house elf snuffled to his side and began tugging at his coat sleeve; handing him a book before returning to work.

"Jane... Austen? Hmm, study material..."

[ask-aesop-sharp]

Dear Professor Sharp,

Excuse my eagerness, but I saw one of your inquiries, and it had a rather...confusing comment about Professor Bakar. Professor... are you interested in Professor Bakar???

Much love,

S. Devereux

Aesop rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, trying not to just let his head free-fall onto his desk in hopes it might knock him out. He was never so transparent... it always brought him a small smile when students would groan about how hard his expressions were to read. With words, it was different... semantics, of course. Just a matter of semantics. His reply seemed a bit more abrupt and rushed than his others had been.

Miss D, I asked only out of mere curiosity. I know, it seems like such a trivial thing, to care who another person takes romantic interest in, and most assuredly something I'd hoped to leave behind in my days as a student. Fraternization between professors is nothing new, and almost never stays a secret for long. -A.S. P.S. Professor Bakar is genial, pleasant company to keep, rest assured. ...and quite easy on the eyes, all things considered. His visits to bring me unicorn hair, Fwooper feathers, etc. for my potions stores are an anticipated weekly ritual. P.P.S. Ah, tell no one the contents of this letter. In fact, please burn it when you've finished. For good measure.

[ask-aesop-sharp]

Dear Professor Sharp,

How do you feel about your student admirers? Are you disgusted? Are you fascinated? Are you flattered? All of the above or none at all?

Much love (in a completely normal context)

-S. Devereux

Aesop pushed his chair back from his desk, leaning forward and resting his elbow on his knees. Fingers tented, he laid his chin against his thumbs looking deep in thought. He'd been pressured about his love life, today, more than he had in a lifetime perhaps... maybe offering open office hours to students was a mistake.

"Well, Miss Devereux, I suppose it all comes down to the manner in which I find out." He tried to grunt with displeasure, but it came out more as a chuckle. "...and how it's further expressed. Harmless, passing bouts of feelings for another are only natural, and what make us human - I can't say I'm not surprised much of the time. I don't know if I'd call it a fascination but, a curiosity certainly, when students are surrounded by budding peers of their own age and would rather fawn about an old dog like myself."

He picked up a torn piece of parchment that had been sitting on his desk, agitating him since he found it on the floor of the potions classroom last night. The ridiculous caricature of himself. The inappropriate captioning.

"This is a bit... disgusting, for lack of a better word. So, a bit of all of the above, in varying orders and quantities."