The man hops up to one foot, using the other for his demonstration of humans, holding his leg shakily high to meet with his hands. He looks rather goofy, but his face says everything he's about to teach is with every sincere intention. The class watches on at the silly man, none wanting to giggle or chuckle at his lesson.
"Firstly, a gate was opened up-"
His right hand dangles and flourishes like a spinning spider, eyeballing the veritable Demon gate.
"The Demons were infamously known to be the first to arrive. The Fire and Brimstone!"
His fist throws excitement in the air, mimicking a roaring fire with twiddling fingers.
"And then, to combat the Evil "
Using the other hand to mimic rabbit ears at the notion of a stigmatic bias.
"The Angels fell, opening a gate of their own."
His hand mimics a waterfall, serene, and peacefully landing. Holding his hand out flat, the man looks around the room through his loose silver hair.
SWACK
The man throws his foot, the humans, to the ground, chipping a floor tile in the process.
"Ngh."
Almost silently, he lets out a brief grunt. The students jerk back, the sheer surprise affecting them.
"Humans did exactly that."
He points down at his foot, using the Demon-hand.
"They were brought to the ground. They were brought to their lowest point."
He starts to turn his foot in a pivot, like squashing a bug beneath it.
"Without warning, mercy, remorse, or forethought. It was just done."
He lets the air hang frozen. The students fall mute and this time don't look to share gazes.
Melody holds her hands up to her mouth, an empathic gasp escapes. Okirk and his friends remain silent, brooding.
"So, I ask,"
He raises his hands, both the Demon-hand and the Angels-hand up to his face, looking out to their small and wondrous faces, completely attentive.
"- Who would blame them? Who could blame them for falling to their baser instinct? Should we blame humanity for wanting to fight, or to run? To live or to suffer? To rise… or fall."
His hands grip into fists and fall limp, left to his sides. He watches them, watching him, keeping intensive stares throughout every single student. Melody and the others closely follow his eyes, watching and waiting for the next words. Breathes are held and even blinks can wait.
The man strides across the floor, almost hovering to his desk.
"Yes, some humans became Cursed-"
He shakes his head, regrettably and sorrow-filled.
"- not always because of a choice - but because of where the Demons come from."
He squints ever so slightly, turning his gaze to the window and streets beneath them.
"It's a place of… overpowering anger, hatred, lust, and death."
He pulls back into the room but doesn't look anyone in the eyes now, staring down at his desk. His breaths slow and grow longer, heated with the speech of Hell.
"Powerful, powerful emotions. The essence of being human. That choice that we think we always get to make. Destiny, the linear fashion in which we think our lives run in…"
He lands his hands on the desk, fingers spread widely apart. The room stares at him.
"Some did fall. Because the power that resides in Hell is too strong for most. Fleeing to it for its attractive reasons, or for it's lesser so. No one could blame anyone for our ancestor's choices. Not even them."
His hands meet together, grasping through the gaps of his fingers. The teacher closes and opens his eyes in beats with his final words, stayed peering at his young tutored minds.
A collective breath is weaved through the students. Listening so attentively, anyone would forget to breathe. Melody relaxes back in her chair, letting her shoulder loose from their tension.
"He talks like he was there…"
She thinks to herself, looking him over again to quickly gauge his age, knowing that it's impossible, but doing it anyway. She can only guess so much but thinks he's somewhere in his early 30's.
Now the class has a chance to share in looks, not saying any words but looking to confirm that they all heard him. Wanting to keep their attention and making sure that they comprehend the lesson here, their teacher stands tall, placing his left hand on his desktop firmly.
"Angels fell,"
The air is sucked out of the room as they all realize he has more to say.
" and people ran. Ran to their heroes, looking to escape from the blood and gore of it all."
Peering deeply into everyone, he scans the room and stops at Okirk.
"No one is saying that the cowardly chose the Angels. No one is saying that the Blessed are the result of a mundane and automatic choice to live."
He lets his tone suggest as much, finding Okirk's eyes now.
Okirk grits his teeth seeing the quick change in tone, his goons follow suit.
"Some rose to their blessings out of needs like heroism, survival, and even to find happiness among a world that looked bleaker than ever before."
The teacher's arms fall to his sides and crumple in his form deeper than before.
"Humans made choices and had choices made for them. If you don't understand that, then the doors of my classroom are always open for exit and entrance- feel free."
Unmoving and uninterested in the lies of those who would abuse history for themselves, the teacher stays frozen for a moment in complete silence. Everyone peeks around at everyone, and Melody meets glares with Okirk behind her. They only break their stare-off when a scraping of chalk is heard.
Squee SQRRR SKWWW KREE KIK KRKK
"My name is Mr. Verim."
His voice, more solid and rigid than before, comes from behind the turned-away man. His head is raised high and determined. The class watches attentively.
"History… is my passion. Without a proper lesson in what humans have done with the world, we can't know what steps to take and miss-take."
Mr. Verim puts the chalk down and turns back around to face the class. Resting his arms across his stomach, nervous again, like he feels most comfortable when he can talk about what he wants to, or in the protection of another. The shy yet stern man awkwardly shoots a wink at Melody, hidden away from the class.
"Now, sorry for the impromptu history lesson, I'm sure your actual history teacher will have words about the past as well. I digress to my entrance- "
He waves his hand loosely to the door calling back to when he came in. Mr. Verim breathes confidently, practiced, and practiced again.
"Welcome to A.C.E - Abilities: Comprehension and Experience."
He waves now to the class and to the board behind him where he's written the name in sloppy lettering.
The second year is already proving to be a place of serious learning. Mr. Verim hovers to the front of his desk and raises his arms, wearing a smirk that shows he's ready to begin. The class opens their books and pulls out all of their tools, barely realizing so much time has already passed in their first period.
Melody is struck impressed, sitting in the middle of the class looking off at the gap between her and Mr. Verim, looking to be properly abyssal. She focuses on his shoulder and lets her thoughts run freely about him.
"Wow… His power is… How could I ever get to be like that?"
Mr. Verim seems to notice her look and nods at her then to her desktop. Quickly Melody nervously
watches on as everyone prepares their books and papers, Melody can't help but feel at a loss. Her thoughts just as quickly escape to wondering how Mason's first day is going.
"I hope you're doing better than me…"
Continued in PART FOURTEEN…