A lesson in history

Another year, another class ready to dismiss all that you say as beneath them.

Such was the fate of Elegance Design, history teacher of a school whose reputation far exceeded its reality. When she was a student, they damn well respected their teachers, and if they didn't, a smack behind the ears wasn't only expected, it was obliged.

Alas, that was a time when the true powers of the school wasn't the Friends and Parents Association and people actually wanted an education, rather than a now worthless piece of paper saying that an attempt was done. This generation would end up rearing the most dangerous kind of idiot; the ones that think they are clever.

Elegance thought of herself as trying to fix some of the damage.

So she sat in her classroom, each desk having both a piece of paper outlining the syllabus, and a blank notebook. All that was needed was the students. Waiting for this last component, the teacher sat at her desk, idly reading.

Switchblade quickly entered the classroom, heading over to the front row. He laid his bag on the floor next to him, and took out his equipment, carefully laying it out in lines before waiting for the teacher to address him so he could talk; he didn't really know what lesson he was in; he just chose a random class to volunteer for.