“I give no shits. You can probably see that that’s not what I think.”
Uriah glanced back at Aleksei, recognising the haughty expression on his face. “You know,” he said slowly, “not all Commoners are all that different to Nobles.”
“Lovely.” She opens up her satchel and takes out a case.
“I assume there are no objections to hearing some music?”
“This is the longest I’ve had to wait for something ultimately menial in the past month. And I thought they scheduled this, but it seems like I’m mistaken…again”
“Sure. And I assume you agree there are no differences between an officer and a convict?”
Did this low-life commoner really just compare him to the slum dwellers? Are you kidding? That was probably one of the harshest insults he’s seen. He wasn’t one to back down however.
That is quite the lengthy discussion between the instructor and the professor.
With the instructor sighing most of the time.
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“I’d hate to say it…but your words…what’s the right word? Ah…yes. Douchebag.”
Threnvi almost instantly takes up a furious countenance
Lovely, nobody objected audibly so she takes out her flute and assembles it, counting her self off before launching into a song with a slow, peaceful, and soft melody.
“The difference between the officer and convict are the choices each one of them made. Honourable or chaotic, as they may be. The difference between the Commoner and Noble isn’t ancestry. It’s their choices again.” Uriah sighed. “You could befriend them, see that they aren’t so bad.”
“That’s some colorful language. Though it’s not he first I’ve heard it, other times including from those that sit around in those trash can fires.”
He just shakes his head at Uriah. The kid just doesn’t get the fact that choices are influenced by where you grew up, and usually commoner homes don’t produce the discipline needed for a stable job.
Is it bad if I’m enjoying this?
Uriah held a bemused smile as he looked back at Aleksei. “You don’t want me for an enemy,” he warned. “Heed my words. You’ll regret it if you don’t later.”
“Have you actually been outside enough to make that evaluation?”
“Because your personal need to fire back on all cylinders hints to me that you are never challenged…at all. That’s disgraceful, if I’m to be objective.”
“I’ve been around enough to know being a courier is a nice and dangerous job, with a steady amount of people looking to gang up and rob me, kidnap me and hold me for ransom, or even murder me. Surprisingly, they all have been commoners. Coincidence? I think not.”
Where everyone was squabbling, it seems that the instructor and the professor have reached an understanding.
“Why do I have to do this too…”
“May I have your attention please?”
“Well, our orientation exercise happens to be a little special compared to other classes.” The Instructor sighed.
“I am Towa Herschel, your homeroom teacher. Please take care of me.”
Towa Herschel
Homeroom Teacher of Class VII. Looks younger than her actual age of 21.
Visible Sheet has been updated.
“And you still are demeaning to everyone around you. Glorious.”
“Have you attempted to actually attempt to figure out why that’s the case?”
Threnvi shoots them a deadpan expression before throwing up their hands.