"Gyaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!!"
Mr. Verim throws his arms up, fingers spread widely apart.
The class looks around at each other, whispers of confusion and giggles of mockery fill the air.
"What's going on?"
"I don't know."
"So weird."
"Guys!"
Mr. Verim clears his throat with the word. He leans forward onto his desk, his elbows planted firmly down and his hands palming the sides of his face.
"I'm already bored!"
Mr. Verim throws his hands at his desk, landing like meteors onto it, two balled-up fists denting into the wood. The class watches.
"I wanted to go to that exhibition yesterday!"
Mr. Verim admits, waving his right hand over to the window, not pointed to the colosseum behind the school, but just outside to the world away from this room.
"But, aghh!"
He continues to throw his hand back onto the desk. Mr. Verim lays his head on his desk and talks into the wooden top.
"I couldn't stop wondering if I watered my plants or not!"
FWAP
Mr. Verim smacks his hands onto the back of his head, pushing his head into the desktop, digging into it with his nose.
"I didn't get to go… and I don't have any plants…."
The lowly man admits, embarrassed and ashamed of himself. This display starts to really settle in with the students of the class. His serious tone from the day prior is overtaken by this exaggeration of a man before them now.
Melody looks at their teacher and wonders if he's okay.
"Uhm, Mr. Verim?"
Melody calls to him, treading lightly with her words. She adds a sweet lilt she tends to when speaking with Mason, very kind and warm.
"What is it, Ms. Melody?"
Their teacher drones to answer, barely moving his head.
"I h-hear that Breck won the match? Is that what you wanted to see?"
Melody weighs her answer and tone.
Mr. Verim's hands grip tightly onto his silver lengths of hair, crushing them together into briny urchins.
"Gyah!"
He throws his hands in the air again, dragging plumes of static tangled hair.
"You spoiled it!"
Mr. Verim screams in anguish.
"I had the A/V Department record the whole thing! I just wanted to feel like I could complain to somebody about it!"
Mr. Verim lowers himself, sinking back into his chair and even sliding the chair out of his desk. Once positioned low enough, He pulls out the drawer of his right side desk. He slowly lumbers his head into the drawer and closes it enough that the cold metal touches his neck.
Melody lowers her hand and bows her head a bit. Apologetic, but also confused. The class doesn't move or say anything, just finding the entirety of this scene odd. No one can ever really know what to expect from Mr. Verim after this.
After the air hangs for about a minute,
"I just wanted to see some good fighting!!!"
Mr. Verim stands now, throwing a punch forward, his other fist at his side, a typical martial art punch. His fire relit, Mr. Verim stands firm at the head of the classroom. The class looks at him, bewildered as ever.
Okirk and his goons look at Melody, and Melody actually turns to see the young bully now too.
Mr. Verim takes notice and calls out.
"No, not between you two! You two seem to be at each other's throat every day as it is!"
Mr. Verim throws his arms out to his sides, posing just as Okirk did while being handed the two weapons from his goons just before class, suggesting Mr. Verim was keeping a close eye on the situation.
"No, what I want to see is something really spectacular! "
Mr. Verim raises his arms in cheer, spinning around as if to be stood in the center of cheering applause.
Looking outside, a poster from yesterday's festivities taunts Mr. Verim. He looks at it as it blows just out of sight of the room's windows. The class's eyes follow him as he follows it.
"What is he up to?"
Melody wonders, ultimately curious about the man as a whole, flustering as she stares for a second too long.
"Hmmm."
Mr. Verim scratches his chin now, staring out to the sunny day beyond their class.
"Class!"
He declares, louder than he probably meant to.
"Gather your equipment…"
Mr. Verim takes a step back to his desk, planting his hand on the desktop and finding a sheet of paper lost somewhere in a neat pile.
"Let's take a short trip."
He throws his hand outside to the student's lockers, a slightly crumpled sheet between his tightened grip. The class doesn't know how to react, unsure if he's being genuine or not.
"Now! Seriously! Get your swords! Your maces! Your guns! All of it!"
He mimics holding each of the weapons he shouts, racing out into the hallway as he does.
"I want to see you all back here in 60 seconds!"
He shouts aloud, ushering everyone out of the room.
He turns around and smiles to himself, giddy with excitement at the prospect he has in mind. Mr. Verim uses his experienced speed to race off with the sheet of paper, the pieces uncovered by his gripped fist flutter, reading "-mbat Permission"
Melody watches the class rush around to their lockers, preparing any and all equipment for a fight.
She stares off at the door where Mr. Verim sped off to. Her heart rate speeds a little, excitement and anxiety fill her head.
"Oh geez. Why can't it just be a 5,000 word essay?"
The sounds of rushing chairs and footsteps drown out her thoughts, throwing the room into disarray as they all gather to their lockers outside of the classroom. The hall comes alive and their lockers squeak about. Whispered excitement seems to hang on everyone's ears and lips, curious about what the plan for today is.
"Does he just want us all to fight? Battle-royale style?"
A scary image comes into Melody's head that is better not described. Melody can't help but alight at the thought though, smiling as she reaches into her locker to grab a better-suited jacket for fighting; she already has her weapon on her at all times.
Melody's Halo is an interesting piece of magic. Not too much is known about the completed uses of the Halo's as it's such a rare occurrence among Blessed, but the stronger known facts about it make it an incredible power to have in her arsenal.
Melody's particular usage is to have it enhance parts of her that she wears around, like her ankle for powerful kicks, and her wrist for intense punches.
Continued in PART THIRTY-EIGHT…