The scrape of chalk ruled the sunlit classroom for the first five minutes. Mameo, whose name had been written on the chalk board had busied himself with a schedule for his apprentices. A detailed guide for their lives from now till next December. In a style of writing more elegant then those in the Digital Age, Mameo had scribed the following.
From 7:00am - 11:00am (Basic Digital World Knowledge.)
From 11:30am - 1:00pm (Battle Training and Bestiary Knowledge.)
From 1:00pm - 8:00pm (Free Time, please bond with your Digimon and comrades.)
A severe scrape ended his writing. He placed the chalk down, confidently stood at his podium, and smiled gently at his class of four. Takai was supposedly out "sick", he doubted strongly that his nephew was being honest.
"Good morning, students. In time you will learn many things here. You will experience things you once thought impossible. Some of you have already taken quite nicely to these occurrences. To those of you that have, I implore you to be cautious, be rational even in this wonderland." Mameo walked to the front of his podium, his black suit accented by his yellow tie exuding warmth. "Class will begin immediately, I won't be taking questions until you've learned some of the basics of Digimon care. Those little ones won't wait for you get your bearings, you'll have to adapt to his new world quickly."
He hoped to draw attention to the in-training Digimon with them.
Mameo reached into the slot at his stand and pulled four, deep-blue handbooks out. One by one he placed them in front of the students. "Don't let your partners eat them," he chuckled. "Cause they will. They'll eat anything just about, also be mindful of their expressions; one in particular will be crucial. It'll let you know they have to go. As in use the bathroom before its too late."
Back at up front, Mameo folded his arms while holding the handbook open to page one. "Alright, page one, Digimon are friends not slaves..."
Mameo went on like this for about four hours, staying true to his words of not answering any questions. His knowledge of Digimon reared itself over the course of the class. Before a tummy could grumble or a face be made, he had sent each student out with their partner at least once to use the bathroom.
"...Digimon of the Champion level are comparable to teenagers, as they evolve they mature and so must we with them." Mameo sighed and closed the workbook. "We'll stop here, class. Take your handbooks back to your dormitories for further study. We'll be having lunch at the Arena today. Follow me; and take note of how you get there. After today you'll be expected to know where to go. Meaning we won't tolerate being tardy."
As he stood at the door, waiting for everyone, he said, "Any questions you might have will be answered on the way there. Don't be afraid to speak up, I know this is a lot to take in."
Mr. Mameo
From 7:00am - 11:00am (Basic Digital World Knowledge.)
From 11:30am - 1:00pm (Battle Training and Bestiary Knowledge.)
From 1:00pm - 8:00pm (Free Time, please bond with your Digimon and comrades.)
A severe scrape ended his writing. He placed the chalk down, confidently stood at his podium, and smiled gently at his class of four. Takai was supposedly out "sick", he doubted strongly that his nephew was being honest.
"Good morning, students. In time you will learn many things here. You will experience things you once thought impossible. Some of you have already taken quite nicely to these occurrences. To those of you that have, I implore you to be cautious, be rational even in this wonderland." Mameo walked to the front of his podium, his black suit accented by his yellow tie exuding warmth. "Class will begin immediately, I won't be taking questions until you've learned some of the basics of Digimon care. Those little ones won't wait for you get your bearings, you'll have to adapt to his new world quickly."
He hoped to draw attention to the in-training Digimon with them.
Mameo reached into the slot at his stand and pulled four, deep-blue handbooks out. One by one he placed them in front of the students. "Don't let your partners eat them," he chuckled. "Cause they will. They'll eat anything just about, also be mindful of their expressions; one in particular will be crucial. It'll let you know they have to go. As in use the bathroom before its too late."
Back at up front, Mameo folded his arms while holding the handbook open to page one. "Alright, page one, Digimon are friends not slaves..."
Mameo went on like this for about four hours, staying true to his words of not answering any questions. His knowledge of Digimon reared itself over the course of the class. Before a tummy could grumble or a face be made, he had sent each student out with their partner at least once to use the bathroom.
"...Digimon of the Champion level are comparable to teenagers, as they evolve they mature and so must we with them." Mameo sighed and closed the workbook. "We'll stop here, class. Take your handbooks back to your dormitories for further study. We'll be having lunch at the Arena today. Follow me; and take note of how you get there. After today you'll be expected to know where to go. Meaning we won't tolerate being tardy."
As he stood at the door, waiting for everyone, he said, "Any questions you might have will be answered on the way there. Don't be afraid to speak up, I know this is a lot to take in."