Terent's Master Class

[Señor Sunday Friday]

The short elf walked back and forth around the classroom, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at the ground. Buzzing next to his head was a gecko dragon, spiriting about while the elf was deep in thought. Terent's hair was without a hair tie so it fell in messy, wild waves over his back and face, he narrowed his eyes as he stopped his pacing and looked towards the door, "They be'er no' be la'e..." he said as the moment approached that his students should be arriving. Terent was a generally loose and fun person to be around... but when anything related to training came around... it was nice to keep in mind that Terent had been in the Virisean and the Licentian military. Class was going to be hell.

The room had maybe ten or so student desks off to one side and the rest was kept vacant for some reason or another, a chalkboard in the front of the room with nothing but white chalk in the chalk tray- no fun and happy colors. Terent tapped his foot nervously as he stood in the front of the room, Master Class starts now.

[Sea]

Sanet darted down the hall. Spotting the door to her class, she grabbed onto the doorframe, as it was not possible for her to sufficently slow down, and swung herself into class. She spun around a few times, before spreading out her arms and putting her legs square with her shoulders, and steadied herself. Her tail twitched in an odd dizzy fashion. When the room stopped spinning, she looked up, with the beginnings of a smile, as she was excited to see Terent. But then she saw uncharacteristic look on his face, perhaps enough to be called a glower, and it faded. She bowed her head briefly without realizing it.
"Hello, Mr. Terent, sir," she mumbled. Her face was slightly red, whether from exertion or embarassment was unknown. She shuffled her feet, unaware of what to do, as she studied the floor.

[Señor Sunday Friday]

"A'IGHT!" Terent barked, unusually loud for someone so short of stature, "If ye're in 'ere fer tha class then pick a seat, if no' then ge' tha 'ell ou!" his eyes looked over San for a few seconds, "This class is gon'be one o' the 'ardest thin's ye'll be goin' through in this school." he walked towards the classroom door, his posture and step were pure military, timed evenly and it could be seen that he had indeed spent a long time walking in formations. "And if anyun tha' belongs in this class is la'e then ye'd better no' even show up." he spoke loudly so it could be heard down the halls, then -snap- he looked back towards San with a simple and precise about-face, "If ye thin' tha' you'd be givin' less-than-full effort in 'ere or ye thin' tha' this class won' be 'fun' or 'enjoyable' than I suggest that ye leave now. D'ye undestand tha' 'Malley?" he asked, his gaze seemed to pierce and burrow at someone's consciousness and agitate their thoughts, like he was listening to them. Despite the elf's lack of height he seemed to make himself taller, more intimidating and dangerous.

[Sea]

San's face drained of color.
"Yessir. Understood, sir," she replied. She shuffled herself over to a seat, and sat down. Her tail was poofed out, and her ears were pinned back against her skull. This wasn't Terent, she was sure. Perhaps she was on hidden camera and someone would pop out and yell 'YOU JUST GOT PUNK'D!' but, after a cursory check of her surroundings, she spotted no such camera. Who was this strange man who looked like Terent? What was going on? And worst of all, no one else was around to share her fear. Could it get any worse?

[Señor Sunday Friday]

This wasn't a joke, this was serious. "So ye'll be showin' full effor' 'ere?" he said, his voice showing he wasn't quite believing the statement given by San staying. "Very well, then!" he shook his head, "Malley! Demonstrate yer abili'ies th'best ye can wi'out damagin' the classroom. I nee' to know 'ow much ye 'ave t'learn." he said with a half interested expression but a commanding tone. A way to make San feel like shit and feel like she was unimportant. Yay! He impatiently stood there, his foot tapping incessantly with a rapid rythm to make San feel pressed for time, like every second it took her to react was going to count against her. The thought of Terent being so frightening was probably very new to San.

[Ladd Russo of the Russo Family]

Lorien poked his head into the classroom in an unsure fashion, deep blue eyes flickering over the area. His point-nosed helmet was tucked under one arm, revealing a shade-paled face and vibrant blond hair, the latter tied back and out of the way. An orange, blobby thing bounced about the blue-gray armor on his shoulder, a cheerful counterpart. The paladin's eyes widened slightly, and his open face seemed quite bewildered.

"They instructed me to come to this classroom, but..." he said, trailing off and then closing his mouth when he realized he was bordering on rudeness. What he was going to say was that if Master Terent had just been on the beaches of the shipyard down below, how did he arrive to this room before him.

Of course, the answer was obvious: Master Terent was a great magician, and knew the school well besides. He inwardly sighed, wondering if that year of silence had really helped him mind his speech at all. He would just have to try harder.

Bowing to Master Terent and apologizing for his tardiness, he took a seat next to the other student, a curious looking girl. The tips of her ears were just level with his eyes, and they reminded him of Whiskelle, the monastery cat. She also had a tail. While intriguing, this certainly wasn't the moment for questions. After a brief, friendly glance, he redirected his full attention to Master Terent.

[Señor Sunday Friday]

"LORIEN!" Terent said, his accent rolling the R in Lorien's name prominently, "Sea's are fer tha stu'en's tha ge' 'ere on TIE-EM!" Terent's accent grew more heavy over the words as he made himself more obviously enraged by his student's tardiness, "I 'ope thaye wi' ma'e an effort to be on tie-em in tha future!" he exclaimed, "Ye'll come u'ere an' stan' a' attention, I don' wan'a see a bi'o movemen' ou' a ye when ye're up 'ere eithe'! D'ye unde'stand?" Terent barked at Lorien, Terent figured that standing at attention wouldn't be too terribly hard for a militarily trained student, well at least Terent hoped Lorien was trained to be atleast decent at the smalles military related actions. "Unless o'course ye foin tha' I've givenye a job tha's too 'ard fer ye ta'ccomplish! I'll try t'keep i' easier than 'Gettin yerbloody arse t'the classroom ontie-em!' 'Opefully ye won' fuck tha'un up again!" Terent was a very unhappy short elf man. This was the first time he'd ever sworn as far as anyone in TMA was aware. Class was not something to be trifled with and needless to say, any student of Terent's was never late after the first day.

[Ladd Russo of the Russo Family]

Lorien nodded, properly shamed. "Yes, Master Terent. I'm sorry to have disrupted you."

There was, he felt, a very good explanation for his tardiness, but he could not find fault Master Terent's expectations. A master of any art should have high expectations, and he was confident that this teacher would make them strive for great heights. He stood up carefully and straight, glad there were no weights or balancing poles involved. Sister Terese was always creative when it came to packaging out punishments.

At some points he had trouble understanding his teacher, though, especially when his voice was raised. Was there something about a duck in that sentence... Cars, ontium, and ducks... Wasn't ontium a type of sleeping flower? This was a very strange lesson already.

[Sea]

San clambered out of the chair. She had been formulating an idea in her head for transformation... She had decided she'd try to impress Terent with originality. Though his wrath had already been incurred upon the other student, she didn't want to delay his command to her. She closed her eyes, and concentrated best she could. The picture of the creature she was changing into was painted behind her eyes. The creature was the size and shape of a lion, though slightly leaner, with the same fur type and head and body and such. Besides that, it differed. Her fur was snow-white, with black designs decorating it. The eyes were a vibrant turquoise. The claws and fangs were long and as brilliantly silver as the metal, and were decorated with the same black designs as the fur. The tail split into three plumes. As she was female, she had no mane. The designs that trailed through the white were similar to henna. She completed the transformation successfully. Though she looked rather special, she wasn't 'immortal', she was only a somewhat deformed creature, of the deformity was something of beauty, though still rather impressive. She opened the turquoise starbursts, and looked at Terent, hoping for praise.

[Señor Sunday Friday]

"Don' waste yer tie-em on aesthe'ics!" Terent shouted, throwing his arms up into the air as if he was dealing with mentally retarded three year olds or perhaps any other being or creature with equal abilities of thought. "I' ye'r tryin' tah make a lion than make'un an don' bother wi' 'pre'y designs' tha'll only ta'e more tie-em!" Terent shook his head and released an irritated sigh. Sparks of purple ignited about him through his agitation. His voice took on a more stressed tone but he didn't sound quite so enraged, "Lorien, if ye wish, ye can show us wha' tha exten' of yer powers are." He looked towards Lorien, hoping this student wouldn't let him down so much. It was odd how Terent seemed to make it that San did not exist at the moment since she had failed to live up to expectations. San would have to do better in the future.

[Ladd Russo of the Russo Family]

A nervous smile on his face, Lorien was nevertheless a bit shaken by all the shouting and for his fellow student's obvious failure. He had never seen something as wondrous in his life, but it seemed Master Terent wanted something more. That was indeed a shame, because he was fairly sure that nothing he could do would come close.

Nodding respectfully to his teacher, he said, "My skills lie in the areas of combat and Sealing, sir, and I'm not sure how I could properly demonstrate that here..." He remembered their first lessons in the Sealing of Wounds, practicing on injured animals and even an unlucky sibling who had shattered a practice blade with his body. Or a real blade. Eyes trailing to the floor humbly, he wished that there was something else he could do in direct demonstration. It was saddening that he was so far behind his other classmate.

Then his eyes brightened. There was one trick that he did know. "Master Terent, I can also do this," he offered earnestly, feeling that it was better than nothing. After placing his helmet on one of those desks, the young paladin tensed with concentration. Then, taking one step forward, he thrust his head back and flipped through the air in one quick motion, landing on the palms on his hands with his feet in the air. Perhaps not a feat of magical proportions, but it had taken him years to perfect, and years more in heavy, hard to balance armor. Grinning sheepishly, he shifted his balance slightly to center himself on only one hand. Tada?

[Kim-la]

Damien tore down the school halls, desperately searching for his class. Who the heck was this ‘Terent’ guy? And where in Heaven, earth or Hell was his classroom? It was Damien’s first day back and it was just his luck to get his class transferred. His hair looked like he just rolled out of bead and his red hoodie and jeans looked like he slept in them. His socks didn’t match either. Spying the classroom, he hitched his hand on the door and swung himself in. He skidded to a stop, narrowly avoiding a collision with Terent. “Damien sir.” He said, panting an introduction. “Class got changed… Didn’t know…” He added between breaths. He wondered how made the little man would be about him being so obviously late he was.

[Señor Sunday Friday]

"Lorien, yer assignmen' so far is tah figure ou' a way tha' any'o tha' woul' be useful anywhere." Terent nodded before turning to look toward the new student. "An wha' in fuckin' 'ell are ye doin' in 'ere?" he exclaimed, looking toward Damien with an ominous glare in his eyes, he was still a very displeased short elf man. "Th'class 'as alrea'y star'ed an' ye be'er no' be a la'e studen'!" more sparks of magic formed around him as if it was completely out of the short elf's control as his temper rose even higher.

Lorien had been rather quickly dismissed too... meaning that he must have let Terent down. Too bad, though it wasn't quite as bad as San... right? San just got criticized while Lorien was given extra homework? Amiright? Amiright?

[Kim-la]

"Look, I told you my class was switched. I was at my other class on time and only knew to come where when some random chick came and told me to go to ‘Terent’s Class’ (at this Damien included air quotations) and I had to run all over this friggen place just to find where I needed to go. If I knew what an inconvenience if was for you I might not have come at all.” Damien snapped irritably. The entire time Damien had been leaning over, so to be level with Terents face. He had been around short people plenty in his life and he hated how they always had huge attitudes assoiated with their short stature. Clearly the fear that Terent had installed in the others had skipped over Damien. Either that or he was just incredibly stupid.

[Sea]

The oddly decorated lion watched the scene unfold. She padded over to Lorien, as she was sure Terent was too busy with this Damien fellow. She nosed his head comfortingly. Before sitting down beside him. She wrapped her plumed tail around her paws, the long silver claws still poking out from beneath the feathery bit of tail. The lion looked up at the boy with bright eyes. The meaning was obvious, something along the lines of 'That kid over there seems to be a complete idiot if he's provoking Terent like that.' How so many words got fit into one look is hard to say, but it might be attributed to the expressiveness of the turquoise eyes.