@Lucius Cypher@SevenStormStyle@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN@Forsythe@Kaithas@Abillioncats@FlitterFaux@RyonaraDust Applications - Lecture Hall I707
Way back when I was still a wee, naive lass, I had the daft idea that adulthood meant being a responsible member of society who wouldn't trouble their fellow humans, and that by passing that arbitrary border between youth and majority, we'd immediately embody all those virtues that our parents and teachers and the all-knowing television were always trying to instill in us. Actual experience with adults chapped those beliefs right out of my head really quickly, because while everybody extols what's supposedly proper, that's really just another façade that society upholds to keep its wheels squeaky and greased properly, you now? Becoming an adult just means others (like the brats who consider you as a figure of authority) think your opinions can be take seriously instead of being mercilessly dismissed by a superficial assumption that just because you're still a little bit too much of a youth, all your beliefs are entirely lacking rather than at worst flawed due to a lack of experience.
Just because someone might have a smidge less know-how or because they look like they're on the wrong side of twenty and thus still just some "fresh-faced" quine, there's no need to consider their opinions as equally valid, right? It's fine to just mince with the folks who you think are serious and intelligent and older (and thus 'wiser'). That's definitely not a bloody load of superficial crock backed by some beady-eyed buggers with no regard for anything beyond themselves.
Well, that's society for you.
A complex machine that manages to keep working mostly smoothly despite the fragility of its situation. If that horde (Army? Pack? Murder?) of monsters looming outside our walls decides one day that they're a little bit famished and want a nip out of humanity, then we're buggered all the way down to Hadestown, you know? If they all got the bright idea to just group up and pounce for the biggest feast in all of Remnant's history, then we'd be sliced apart like my salami at the local deli, and eaten just as fast! The amount of heart they'd need to put into that would be gold star class if I was their teacher, but it's still something they could pull off, and if it happens ... well I dinnieken what exactly might occur, but I'm a bit feart for the result of all us cogs falling out of position.
Luckily, not everybody's as feart for stuff like that happening, because we're really good at lying to ourselves. Just pretend that there's no piece o' nasty bizzo behind the cameras whenever the news tells us that everything's okay, that we've always been at war with Eastasia, that we're all virtuous little contributors to this great society of ours no matter who we really are! Inside, we all know that's not really true. We're not all best mates, that's just not possible when everybody's got different points of view. After all, it's an unfortunate fact of life that people won't care as much for you if you're part of the 'other', a member of a group that isn't theirs. Every person in every level of society works like that, and I'm honestly no exception. Humans are selfish creatures; if you or your actions don't affect us, then you're just
somebody else's problem then.
And if the poor sod's been labelled
somebody else's problem, then no skin off your back if they have to pick up the pieces of what was supposed to be
your responsibility, one that you couldn't handle because of some dunderheaded thoughts, right?
When you're just some brat, you've got your parents and teachers breathing over your shoulder to get all the work you're supposed to do done. I guess once those brats slip into the skin of an adult, there's nobody else motivating them to actually be responsible except for a paycheck that'll stay the same even if they dingy their job. It's mince. We're creatures of self-interest, it's true, but it's just bloody vapid to think that we're all islands who won't affect one another. And if you're a figure of authority, that's not something you should be promoting if you want the brats to survive the harshness of society, you know?
Society forces us to conform to the roles we've been given. As imperfect as we are as cogs, we need to keep turning to sustain the lie we've built over all these generations. Call it disgusting and distasteful if you want, but that's what life's thrown at us. The alternative to this make-believe game of charades is just worse.
And yet it doesn't stop some selfish tubes from skivving.
Handling internship applications is something that's usually the purview of school administration than teaching staff like me, you know? But because all those buggers are on paid leave, they decided they could just leave the applications to later. All the brats won't mind, right? It's not like it'll matter that much in the long run, right?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
I don't know if a lot of these brats can get too much help with their lives by taking an internship with some active Hunters. Maybe it might give a wee boost to their careers, help them gain the connections they'll need to survive the mingin world outside the Academies. Or maybe the apps were just sent in on a lark by some walloper who wants to waste admin's time. I don't know.
But that doesn't mean that they can just avoid doing their job.
A job I decided, like some idjit, to pick up despite not having any need to.
Not because I care about these brats or anything, but if they went to the effort of actually putting in even one internship app, then I should at least consider their hard work, right? Adults are supposed to be role models and supporting the canniest of our youth, and if those buggers don't want to do it, then it's up to me, being their teacher, to do it instead. I'm just contractually obligated to make sure they all get the best education here so they don't die when they're a fully-fledged Hunter, so even if my 'help' doesn't shape out at all, at least I'm here to make sure they're less likely to get splattered into panbread, you know?
It just looks better on my employee evaluation if I help out here, yeah.
What benefits they get don't matter to me at all!
I nod to myself as I scan over an application for the International Center for the Extermination of Creatures Antagonistic to Mankind. A place like that, word-salad name aside, is definitely a good place for some rookie brat to strut their stuff at. As long as they're not too cocky, but I should've taught them better than that, right? I write my approval and add a few comments (just so they look a bit better to their managers on site, okay?), and the application's sent off through Beacon's servers to their final home.
The last of them too.
I swivel around in my chair to look at the clock. I told myself I'd be done half an hour before class started so I could grab a cuppa, but it looks like I've really buggered my chances today. Not that I'm sad about that or anything - this was a job I had to do, you know? Still, with the first Dust Apps class of the semester about to start, I guess I'll have to get that powerpoint set up.
Maybe this time I'll have more students. And they'll pay attention instead of bludging.
It'd be nice to help some brats who actually care.
As the students filed into Lecture Hall I707, they would notice a
youthful-looking woman wearing a black tie, sweater and pencil dress standing underneath the projector screen, right in front of the lectern. Although she appeared to be their age (or even younger), she did not seem intent on joining them in their seats, instead tapping away at a tablet in her hands with a face that appeared to be deep in thought.
Some would float the possibility of her being one of the class' teaching assistants, but in that case, where was the lecturer?
Their answer would be provided with the ringing of the bell, upon which the woman placed her tablet down, brushing back a few loose strands of violet hair as she stepped out from behind the lectern to survey the room with a purple gaze.
"
My name is Teàrlag Cirsium, your Dust Applications teacher for this semester," she said, a scent of ozone filling the air as she snapped her fingers, producing a blaze of orange flames that burst upwards in a stream from her hand. "
But before we start ..."
The flames froze, crystallising mid-air before shattering into minuscule particles that fell all around her.
"
... I'd like to say that absolutely none of you are allowed to fail this course."
