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Emmanuels Guest Lecture Welcome To Haven 240929
In the dimly lit Supernatural History Classroom filled with ancient tapestries and the scent of aged books, a heated argument unfolds between Jodie and Lilah, stirring the calm before guest lecturer Emmanuel begins. Jodie's scathing remarks towards Lilah about her personal life escalate tensions, eliciting a firm intervention from Emmanuel, striving to maintain order. The altercation hints at deeper divisions within the class, rooted in complex supernatural identities and personal histories. Emmanuel attempts to steer the discussion back to the lecture's theme, focusing on demonborn characteristics and their resilience in battle. Yet, the charged atmosphere lingers, overshadowed by personal vendettas and the implications of power and usefulness within their supernatural community.
As the class progresses, Emmanuel introduces the concept of angelborn and their tragic fate of corruption and loss of free will, a topic that deeply resonates with some of the students, particularly Euphemia and Lilah. The discussion evolves into a broader examination of power, morality, and the intrinsic struggle against corruption inherent within their supernatural lineage. Lilah passionately disputes Emmanuel's perspective on inevitability and choice, advocating for the potential to resist corruption and maintain one's humanity regardless of one's supernatural abilities. The lecture concludes with reflections on the nature of choice, the importance of humanity, and the ongoing battle against the darker impulses that threaten their existence, leaving the students to ponder their paths and the delicate balance between power and corruption.
(Emmanuel's [Guest Lecture] Welcome to Haven)
[Sat Sep 28 2024]
In the Supernatural History Classroom of the Spender Arts and Wellness Center at White Oak
The walls here are adorned with faded tapestries depicting ancient, mystical symbols and enigmatic, otherworldly figures, adding an air of intrigue and mystique to the dimly lit, wood-paneled room. The musty scent of aged books and ancient parchment permeates the air, intermingling with the hushed whispers of students.
It is about 65F(18C) degrees.
"Oh fuck sorry." Jodie says to Lilah, very..very briefly seeming genuinely sad, but its all an act as she goes nuclear on Lilah a moment later and snaps at her with the strength of a thousand bitches. "I'm sorry your baby daddy won the darwin award." her nostrils flare. She wants to spat, or fight, or something. Maybe she'll dive across the desk to tackle Lilah if this escalates further. "The Temple enjoys how useful I am, uncollared. I don't think you'd ever understand what it means to be useful. But I'll spell it out for you, it means being more than just a hole to put a dick in."
"Enough." Emmanuel directs Jodie and Lilah both, "Or I will be removing people, oui?" He embraces the classic American attitude of punishing both people, regardless of whom is at blame. Once it becomes clear that no one will answer the question, he does so himself, "The more powerful demonborn, oui? They are solid, like tanks. Their skin may be reinforced and thicker than normal. They might sport horns. Those that have given into the corrupt might display abilities such as being able to heal from wounds so quickly that their wounds are being knit back together during a fight. Almost as soon as they are cut, or harmed. They might even return from the dead, if killed, their healing being so empowered by the magic. There is only one way to stop this." A beat, "How?" He opens the question once more.
Sienna gathers her possessions and quietly tucks them away into her backpack. With a gentle squeeze to Ash's shoulder, the Swann slips out of her seat and discreetly beelines her way for the door.
Lilah tips her head and listens to Jodie for a moment, before she says, "As a member of Order, let's be clear that I don't believe in subjugation. I didn't say you -should- be collared. I said I'm surprised they haven't. Not the same thing." But it's probably close, when tempers get heated. She stares at the other woman, maintaining eye contact for a long moment before Emmanuel's demand has her offering a mild nod, and reaching for tablet and water bottle. Perhaps she's ready to remove herself.
Euphemia pushes herself to her feet VERY suddenly, her eyes flashing with a seething anger that she had at least been keeping bottled up until now. But this, was a step too far. She opens her mouth to speak -- but freezes as Emmanuel intervenes. sitting back down, and smoldering in her own seat.
"Burning," Lilah offers in answer to Emmanuel, with a grimace and a hint of pallor.
Ash says "Class is falling apart... and I want to see this."
Jodie pushes to her feet, nearly knocking her chair over as it clatters a few feet away from her from the sudden movement. "I'm done listening to this shit." she says too loudly. Of course everyone must know what the Moore feels about class. She blows a kiss towards Lilah with a snerk crossing her features, "Maybe I'll see you next full moon honey." then she starts for the door.
Ash stands, giving Emmanuel an apologetic nod of the head. They seem about to say something to Jodie, but there she goes. They glance at Lilah, not particularly as cold this time, then leaves.
"Well." Emmanuel mutters softly under his breath, before snapping his fingers toward Lilah, "Correct. Burning." He agrees with her, "It is ironic, maybe, in some way that the gasoline blood of the demonborn needs to be burned away to prevent them from returning to life." There's a beat or two then, and a glance over toward Jodie, "Now, the godrealms, what are we knowing about this place?"
Aera is really focused on her laptop screen but there are times when she peaks over it and glances about to everyone. The outburst gets her look back and up, but otherwise she peaks back towards Emmanuel, mostly here to listen.
Her expression tight, Lilah once more merely looks at Jodie, before her attention shifts back to Emmanuel, and the rest of the gathered class. There's a nod given to Euphemia, and then the redhead is again tipping a thoughtful look, but keeping silent for once.
Jodie walks with arrogance and swagger that suggest she feels she dropped some serious diss that makes her victorious on her way out. It's probably not quite as effective as she imagines, even with some threats being tabled towards fellow class mates. Still, the swagger continues all the way out of the class.
Cherie moves away from the entrance as people start storming in and out.
Wandering in, Opal meanders over to sit in one desk, tugging her hips through the small opening of its wrap-around. The woman adjusts the hood of the jacket of her track suit and gazes up front to Emmanuel.
Euphemia grimaces a little, glancing a little uncertainly towards Emmanuel. She seems utterly clueless, despite certainly being the person who SHOULD know how to answer.
"It's got gods in it?" Novel points out, somewhat dryly. "And giant-ass rats and other bullshit?"
"I've heard that much like the sorcerers in Hell created the demons and their ilk, the Gods created the Angelborn to be perfect servants," Lilah offers, finally. "I've never been to their world, but I've heard it's absolutely beautiful. Like the best places on Earth magnified a hundred times."
"Oui," Emmanuel chirps over toward Novel with an amused cant of the lips, "It does have giant rats. Griffons. Cyclops. All sorts of terrible, and amazing beasties, hm? But gods?" The man clucks his tongue, and shakes his head, "The gods, as we are calling them, were once men. Wizards. Only without the rizz of the Fae, non? They claimed power. They got themselves very good public relations, and then they made their own little kingdoms to rule over. Valhalla. Heaven. Shangri-La. Mount Olympus." He lists off a few examples, before gesturing over toward Lilah in agreement, "This is true. It was these Gods that made the Angelborn. Not content enough with their own power, they wanted servants and slaves to attend to their every whim."
Opal continues to very quietly chew her gum as she oversees class activities. While she did walk in late, at least she's hear now, with this crowd. An interested, if dim look flows from the many votive candles alit.
"Erm, well, they made angels." Emmanuel corrects himself slightly, "Which became the angelborn that we know today. They were, as Lilah was saying, the perfect servants. Winged. Beautiful. Enslaved to the wants and needs of others. If you were wanting something, they would want to help, que?" He explains, flicking a little glance over toward Opal at the chewing of her gum, and then back out to the class as a whole anew. "Despite this, they are being no more immune to the corruption of the magic in their blood."
"I dunno about -amazing-. They all seem pretty vicious to me," Novel grumps a little at Emmanuel's words, giving a heft and lift of his shoulders, then a fall. "How's that fucking work if they do everything you tell them?"
"If you have a passing desire to murder someone, a True Angel wouldn't question it and would do it for you without flinching," Lilah says to Novel, as an example. "They'll carry out orders without flinching, no matter how awful they are. Genocide without a flicker of guilt."
Novel counterpoints to Lilah, "But - then the people don't want to be fucking murdered. They can just desire not to. That doesn't make any sense."
"Huh," Opal tribbles out a tiny comment for someone' words, her bright steel-blue eyes markedly following Emmanuel with a small tilt of her head. At the mention of things like 'genocide' and definitely 'flinching' the words probably go right over her airy head. Chew, chew, she blows a bubble, *pop*. Murdered that bubble.
"Huh," Opal tribbles out a tiny comment for Emmanuel's words, her bright steel-blue eyes markedly following Emmanuel with a small tilt of her head. At the mention of things like 'genocide' and definitely 'flinching' the words probably go right over her airy head. Chew, chew, she blows a bubble, *pop*. Murdered that bubble.
"But the true angels aren't angelborn. They don't have free will. They -must- obey their masters," Lilah counters.
"Amazingly vicious." Emmanuel allows in wry response to Novel, before addressing his later question, only for Lilah to beat him to the punch, "Oui, it is as she has said. A true Angel? They are terrifying because of this. They were made through magic, and as such they are parasitic as any other 'true' supernatural. It is the watering down of blood, and time, that allows angelborn to be their own people. Instead of empty shells."
"That's why Angelborn have the opportunity to better themselves. To not fall to corruption. But because many around them want 'what's best' for them and desire that they be strong, that they stand up for themselves, and so on... they end up giving in and becoming more and more corrupt themselves." Lilah pauses, then says, "Desires can be twisted and corrupted too. Less innocent responses as their minds twist."
Euphemia suddenly seems very invested. "...Is that what happens if Angelborn awaken? Do they start to give in more to the desires that influence them?"
Cherie listens intently to this lesson, leaning in a little.
Novel offers an easy smirk at the responses, there's a certain lack of surprise in his features.
There's a pause as Emmanuel considers Euphemia's question, "There is a distinct difference, hm? Between an angelborn, and a true angel. An angelborn that gives in to the magic? I believe they are the same as any other who is doing this. There is less empathy. A drive to feed on others. Eventually they would be killing through intimacy as well." The man notes, "When there is less empathy, then oui, I imagine there is more giving in to other desires." There's another pause then, "It is important to note, hm? The research suggests that an angelborn cannot tell another persons desire from their own. It is a muddled pool. But if you are starting to care less about hurting others, then you are likely to be doing it more."
"Now, when it is coming to spotting an angelborn, or a godling who has given into corruption? It can be harder than some of the others. They do not often grow as big as a house, or turn into dragons, and griffons, and other monsters. Though this does not mean they cannot." Emmanuel further establishes as he leans against his wee little podium, "Is there anyone wanting to take a shot at what we would look for in these two?"
"Insane levels of strength," Lilah says, though her expression remains tight and she squeezes Euphemia's hand again. "Speed too?"
Cherie speaks up, "A declining ability to act on their own will? Transitioning to more of a... living tool, than a person?"
Euphemia doesn't appear to be particularly pleased to learn this as fact, her eyes turning to the floor in solemn acceptance of this reality. She remains silent for some time -- long enough for Emmanuel to have to snap her back to consciousness with another question. She blinks, twice... venturing uncertainty in her voice: "... And wings, I think?"
"Wings." Emmanuel offers in echoed agreement with Euphemia, "Many true angels are winged. Like those in the pop culture, hm? This is where this comes from." He explains and then gestures over toward Lilah, "The demigods show strength even beyond many of the other supernaturals when they have traded their humanity for power. They are also hardier, sometimes. Harder to hurt, and they very well might be living forever. Unless, of course.." He raises a hand to slice fingers across his neck, and then lets it drop. "The speed of angelborn is another sign. When they are fed on corruption they can be moving faster than the eye can follow, hm?"
Brian nods. "Yeah, that's something to see, alright. I just recently saw one grab another full-grown person and leap a good 30 feet while holding them, and supposedly they weren't even trying hard."
Opal purses her lips around her gum, still chewing and thinking. There is a small frown appearing on her face, struggling perhaps to keep up with some of the discussion, but she does her best to absorb some knowledge from those about.
Cherie speaks up, "For angel born, what abouta declining ability to act on their own will? Transitioning to more of a... living tool, than a person?"
Euphemia nods, raising a hand again. "...Is feeding the only way for u- for them to get that strong? You mention that it's a sign of corruption."
"This can be a possibility, oui." Emmanuel notes over towards Cherie, as he leans against the podium, and makes a so-so sort of motion, "But I think this depends on the personality of the angelborn too, hm? They still possess their own free will, it might just be being that their hesitations loosen as they give in. It is different with true angels. They are slaves. Unless they forge an angelic collar, hm?" Then he's glancing over toward Euphemia with a little turn of the lips, almost a sad thing, "It is a path, hm? The more you are walking it, and embracing the magic? The more corrupt you are becoming, as the parasite inside grows stronger. Feeding grows it. Making the choice to hurt others grows it. This is why the White Oak encourages the careful, and reserved use of these abilities, hm? Lest we are becoming weapons of mass destruction."
"I don't believe that, Emmanuel," Lilah says after a moment. "I truly don't. There are people that never climb to the heights of power that are as corrupt as can be. Yet they could easily shelter under an umbrella of Temple or Order anyway. And there are others, who find their balance. You're scaring her," she states bluntly, her earlier emotional angst now sharpening against a new target, though it's her own self that's a wreck, eyes glistening, skin pale. "She has every possible chance to find balance. She is /not/ doomed to become a monster just because she breathes. Don't." The last word is a plea. For either him or Euphemia, someone. "Just don't," she pleads again.
"I don't believe that, Emmanuel," Lilah says after a moment. "I truly don't. There are people that never climb to the heights of power that are as corrupt as can be. Yet they could easily shelter under an umbrella of Temple or Order anyway. And there are others, who find their balance. You're scaring her," she states bluntly, her earlier emotional angst now sharpening against a new target, though it's her own self that's a wreck, eyes glistening, skin pale. "She has every possible chance to find balance. She is /not/ doomed to become a monster just because she breathes. Don't." The last word is a plea. For either him or Euphemia, someone. "Just don't," she pleads again.
Opal looks over to Lilah, frowning, but her lips are twisted as if she is confused about something, not as if it is insult. It makes her chew her gum harder.
"People can be shitheads. Or not." Novel says, after a long heartbeat, offering a shrug. "Seems like what Emmy's trying to say is that somewhere it changes from choosing to -being-, just by fucking existing."
"Not all 'corruption' comes from magic." Emmanuel allows in simply response to Lilah, "Not every bad person is a supernatural, hm? But that does not make it any less true that chasing this magic strength comes with a cost." Then there's a gesture over toward Novel, "This might be a better explanation, oui." To be fair, English is Emmanuel's second language.
Euphemia seems to shrink away from Emmanuel's eyes, glacial eyes averting to the floor. It's Lilah's words that finally drag her back to reality, though -- the smaller girl offering her deskmate a warm smile and a light squeeze of the hand. "... I'm okay, no need to worry." She murmurs, gesturing towards herself. "I can accept this. Strength comes with a cost. I just need to take measures to make sure I never turn my blade on the wrong person."
Brian packs up his things. He looks at Emmanuel and says, "Thank you for this. I am sorry to duck out early, but I have to attend to a few things."
Euphemia continues... "Or if I should..." She turns, nodding pointedly to Emmanuel. "I can be confident in good company."
"I'd say agree to disagree, but... this is seriously fundamental, and I can't," Lilah states. She reaches over and shakes Euphemia's shoulder. "Stop that shit," she demands of her. "What you just said? You're saying that if you GIVE someone else power over you, you can be sure that that power won't corrupt them?" She snorts, then shakes her head. "No. No I refuse to believe that everyone born with power in their blood is doomed. I refuse. I've fucking -fought-. I've been through fucking -hell-, and I refuse to accept that despite it all, I'm fucking screwed. That you're fucking screwed," she says defiantly, gazing at Euphemia. "Or you," she adds with a look to Novel. "No."
"Mhmm." Emmanuel quirks a quick turn of the lips toward Euphemia, before clearing his throat, "Now, the last anchored world? The Wilds." There's a pause, "It is exactly what it sounds like on the tin, hm? A wild place. Lilah, would you like to share any of your experiences, or knowledge on this place?"
"No," Lilah repeats to Emmanuel when he seems so very happy to accept what Euphemia just did. She stares at him, entirely aghast. She just stares. But then she says, as she rises with her tablet, empty water bottle, and bag, "It's beautiful. It's insane. Things come to life with wild magic. Dinosaurs exist. Spiders the size of German Shepherds exist. The people... have such freedom, and technology is all but non-existent." As she speaks, she heads for the door, standing firm in her protest.
"..You are not doomed, unless you choose to be, oui?" Emmanuel comments on Lilah's point then, leaning against his podium once more, "It is a choice, hm? To become a monster, or a supremacist, or corrupt. It is a choice. The White Oak, and I, am wanting the students here to make the right one. To be choosing the needs of the many over the needs of the few, hm? To choose humanity over power."
Opal is distracted with her phone. It's probably just ADHD, really, or a bad self-diagnose as Lilah has a spat with Emmanuel, and Euphemia looks the more uncomfortable. She looks up, trying to catch the social faux pas, but she's unable to really. Poor thing. Instead, she keeps her silence, probably wisely - and chews her bubblegum.
Lilah sighs heavily at Emmanuel's words, but eventually concedes with a nod.
Novel zones back in from looking at his phone from the discussion, glancing up. "Right, like - that's what I fucking mean. You choose to be a dickhead enough time, then you just are a dickhead. Like Jodie, who just left."
Novel zones back in from looking at his phone from the discussion, glancing up. "Right, like - that's what I fucking mean. You choose to be a dickhead enough time, then you just are a dickhead. Like Jodie, who just left."
"..I think I have used up enough of your valuable time, hm?" Emmanuel comments then with a sheepish turn of the lips towards those gathered here, "There is a rumour that the Wilds are the source of the werewoofs, hm? Though, others say that they first appeared up around Norway, and the other cold, cold places there. Fenrir, and such. We might never know their source, but we do know that much like the fae, that you can tell if a wolf has slipped too far if they are big as a house, hm?" A beat, "Another way to tell if they are a bad, bad wolf? Is if they are embracing the fullmoon, and running wild. The sanctuary spell is weaker on them, as they are near animals during this. They can, and will kill if not bound. They can turn people through the protection. There is always a human cost for a wolf that runs."
Euphemia nods vigorously, noting down near everything that is being taught to her in this moment Addendum -- "next time, ask about vampires." She murmurs quietly to herself, before closing her book and smiling back up towards Emmanuel. "... Thank you for your time, too. It was nice to get out."
Aera stands up and packs up her laptop and her things. "Thank you, it was a good lesson, and learned lots of things." She bows her head towards the front of the classroom. "Thank you for your time."
"Uh-huh, thanks for the lesson, and what I got!" Opal bops out in an airy soprano, her steel-blue eyes looking more watery and pale as she looks from face to face before settling on Emmanuel. Oh right. He was the one teaching. She gives the man a grateful smile.
it's definitely not been her night, emotionally. Even without the chaotic pull of her bloodlines, she's under a lot of stress and it's showing in every line of her face and body. But Lilah still draws in a steadying breath and says to Emmanuel, "Thank you for the class. Sorry... about the disruptions. It was pretty rude of me." Then, she turns for the door with a lift of a hand in farewell to those gathered. "Good night, everyone."
Lilah says "Only one."
As the class progresses, Emmanuel introduces the concept of angelborn and their tragic fate of corruption and loss of free will, a topic that deeply resonates with some of the students, particularly Euphemia and Lilah. The discussion evolves into a broader examination of power, morality, and the intrinsic struggle against corruption inherent within their supernatural lineage. Lilah passionately disputes Emmanuel's perspective on inevitability and choice, advocating for the potential to resist corruption and maintain one's humanity regardless of one's supernatural abilities. The lecture concludes with reflections on the nature of choice, the importance of humanity, and the ongoing battle against the darker impulses that threaten their existence, leaving the students to ponder their paths and the delicate balance between power and corruption.
(Emmanuel's [Guest Lecture] Welcome to Haven)
[Sat Sep 28 2024]
In the Supernatural History Classroom of the Spender Arts and Wellness Center at White Oak
The walls here are adorned with faded tapestries depicting ancient, mystical symbols and enigmatic, otherworldly figures, adding an air of intrigue and mystique to the dimly lit, wood-paneled room. The musty scent of aged books and ancient parchment permeates the air, intermingling with the hushed whispers of students.
It is about 65F(18C) degrees.
"Oh fuck sorry." Jodie says to Lilah, very..very briefly seeming genuinely sad, but its all an act as she goes nuclear on Lilah a moment later and snaps at her with the strength of a thousand bitches. "I'm sorry your baby daddy won the darwin award." her nostrils flare. She wants to spat, or fight, or something. Maybe she'll dive across the desk to tackle Lilah if this escalates further. "The Temple enjoys how useful I am, uncollared. I don't think you'd ever understand what it means to be useful. But I'll spell it out for you, it means being more than just a hole to put a dick in."
"Enough." Emmanuel directs Jodie and Lilah both, "Or I will be removing people, oui?" He embraces the classic American attitude of punishing both people, regardless of whom is at blame. Once it becomes clear that no one will answer the question, he does so himself, "The more powerful demonborn, oui? They are solid, like tanks. Their skin may be reinforced and thicker than normal. They might sport horns. Those that have given into the corrupt might display abilities such as being able to heal from wounds so quickly that their wounds are being knit back together during a fight. Almost as soon as they are cut, or harmed. They might even return from the dead, if killed, their healing being so empowered by the magic. There is only one way to stop this." A beat, "How?" He opens the question once more.
Sienna gathers her possessions and quietly tucks them away into her backpack. With a gentle squeeze to Ash's shoulder, the Swann slips out of her seat and discreetly beelines her way for the door.
Lilah tips her head and listens to Jodie for a moment, before she says, "As a member of Order, let's be clear that I don't believe in subjugation. I didn't say you -should- be collared. I said I'm surprised they haven't. Not the same thing." But it's probably close, when tempers get heated. She stares at the other woman, maintaining eye contact for a long moment before Emmanuel's demand has her offering a mild nod, and reaching for tablet and water bottle. Perhaps she's ready to remove herself.
Euphemia pushes herself to her feet VERY suddenly, her eyes flashing with a seething anger that she had at least been keeping bottled up until now. But this, was a step too far. She opens her mouth to speak -- but freezes as Emmanuel intervenes. sitting back down, and smoldering in her own seat.
"Burning," Lilah offers in answer to Emmanuel, with a grimace and a hint of pallor.
Ash says "Class is falling apart... and I want to see this."
Jodie pushes to her feet, nearly knocking her chair over as it clatters a few feet away from her from the sudden movement. "I'm done listening to this shit." she says too loudly. Of course everyone must know what the Moore feels about class. She blows a kiss towards Lilah with a snerk crossing her features, "Maybe I'll see you next full moon honey." then she starts for the door.
Ash stands, giving Emmanuel an apologetic nod of the head. They seem about to say something to Jodie, but there she goes. They glance at Lilah, not particularly as cold this time, then leaves.
"Well." Emmanuel mutters softly under his breath, before snapping his fingers toward Lilah, "Correct. Burning." He agrees with her, "It is ironic, maybe, in some way that the gasoline blood of the demonborn needs to be burned away to prevent them from returning to life." There's a beat or two then, and a glance over toward Jodie, "Now, the godrealms, what are we knowing about this place?"
Aera is really focused on her laptop screen but there are times when she peaks over it and glances about to everyone. The outburst gets her look back and up, but otherwise she peaks back towards Emmanuel, mostly here to listen.
Her expression tight, Lilah once more merely looks at Jodie, before her attention shifts back to Emmanuel, and the rest of the gathered class. There's a nod given to Euphemia, and then the redhead is again tipping a thoughtful look, but keeping silent for once.
Jodie walks with arrogance and swagger that suggest she feels she dropped some serious diss that makes her victorious on her way out. It's probably not quite as effective as she imagines, even with some threats being tabled towards fellow class mates. Still, the swagger continues all the way out of the class.
Cherie moves away from the entrance as people start storming in and out.
Wandering in, Opal meanders over to sit in one desk, tugging her hips through the small opening of its wrap-around. The woman adjusts the hood of the jacket of her track suit and gazes up front to Emmanuel.
Euphemia grimaces a little, glancing a little uncertainly towards Emmanuel. She seems utterly clueless, despite certainly being the person who SHOULD know how to answer.
"It's got gods in it?" Novel points out, somewhat dryly. "And giant-ass rats and other bullshit?"
"I've heard that much like the sorcerers in Hell created the demons and their ilk, the Gods created the Angelborn to be perfect servants," Lilah offers, finally. "I've never been to their world, but I've heard it's absolutely beautiful. Like the best places on Earth magnified a hundred times."
"Oui," Emmanuel chirps over toward Novel with an amused cant of the lips, "It does have giant rats. Griffons. Cyclops. All sorts of terrible, and amazing beasties, hm? But gods?" The man clucks his tongue, and shakes his head, "The gods, as we are calling them, were once men. Wizards. Only without the rizz of the Fae, non? They claimed power. They got themselves very good public relations, and then they made their own little kingdoms to rule over. Valhalla. Heaven. Shangri-La. Mount Olympus." He lists off a few examples, before gesturing over toward Lilah in agreement, "This is true. It was these Gods that made the Angelborn. Not content enough with their own power, they wanted servants and slaves to attend to their every whim."
Opal continues to very quietly chew her gum as she oversees class activities. While she did walk in late, at least she's hear now, with this crowd. An interested, if dim look flows from the many votive candles alit.
"Erm, well, they made angels." Emmanuel corrects himself slightly, "Which became the angelborn that we know today. They were, as Lilah was saying, the perfect servants. Winged. Beautiful. Enslaved to the wants and needs of others. If you were wanting something, they would want to help, que?" He explains, flicking a little glance over toward Opal at the chewing of her gum, and then back out to the class as a whole anew. "Despite this, they are being no more immune to the corruption of the magic in their blood."
"I dunno about -amazing-. They all seem pretty vicious to me," Novel grumps a little at Emmanuel's words, giving a heft and lift of his shoulders, then a fall. "How's that fucking work if they do everything you tell them?"
"If you have a passing desire to murder someone, a True Angel wouldn't question it and would do it for you without flinching," Lilah says to Novel, as an example. "They'll carry out orders without flinching, no matter how awful they are. Genocide without a flicker of guilt."
Novel counterpoints to Lilah, "But - then the people don't want to be fucking murdered. They can just desire not to. That doesn't make any sense."
"Huh," Opal tribbles out a tiny comment for someone' words, her bright steel-blue eyes markedly following Emmanuel with a small tilt of her head. At the mention of things like 'genocide' and definitely 'flinching' the words probably go right over her airy head. Chew, chew, she blows a bubble, *pop*. Murdered that bubble.
"Huh," Opal tribbles out a tiny comment for Emmanuel's words, her bright steel-blue eyes markedly following Emmanuel with a small tilt of her head. At the mention of things like 'genocide' and definitely 'flinching' the words probably go right over her airy head. Chew, chew, she blows a bubble, *pop*. Murdered that bubble.
"But the true angels aren't angelborn. They don't have free will. They -must- obey their masters," Lilah counters.
"Amazingly vicious." Emmanuel allows in wry response to Novel, before addressing his later question, only for Lilah to beat him to the punch, "Oui, it is as she has said. A true Angel? They are terrifying because of this. They were made through magic, and as such they are parasitic as any other 'true' supernatural. It is the watering down of blood, and time, that allows angelborn to be their own people. Instead of empty shells."
"That's why Angelborn have the opportunity to better themselves. To not fall to corruption. But because many around them want 'what's best' for them and desire that they be strong, that they stand up for themselves, and so on... they end up giving in and becoming more and more corrupt themselves." Lilah pauses, then says, "Desires can be twisted and corrupted too. Less innocent responses as their minds twist."
Euphemia suddenly seems very invested. "...Is that what happens if Angelborn awaken? Do they start to give in more to the desires that influence them?"
Cherie listens intently to this lesson, leaning in a little.
Novel offers an easy smirk at the responses, there's a certain lack of surprise in his features.
There's a pause as Emmanuel considers Euphemia's question, "There is a distinct difference, hm? Between an angelborn, and a true angel. An angelborn that gives in to the magic? I believe they are the same as any other who is doing this. There is less empathy. A drive to feed on others. Eventually they would be killing through intimacy as well." The man notes, "When there is less empathy, then oui, I imagine there is more giving in to other desires." There's another pause then, "It is important to note, hm? The research suggests that an angelborn cannot tell another persons desire from their own. It is a muddled pool. But if you are starting to care less about hurting others, then you are likely to be doing it more."
"Now, when it is coming to spotting an angelborn, or a godling who has given into corruption? It can be harder than some of the others. They do not often grow as big as a house, or turn into dragons, and griffons, and other monsters. Though this does not mean they cannot." Emmanuel further establishes as he leans against his wee little podium, "Is there anyone wanting to take a shot at what we would look for in these two?"
"Insane levels of strength," Lilah says, though her expression remains tight and she squeezes Euphemia's hand again. "Speed too?"
Cherie speaks up, "A declining ability to act on their own will? Transitioning to more of a... living tool, than a person?"
Euphemia doesn't appear to be particularly pleased to learn this as fact, her eyes turning to the floor in solemn acceptance of this reality. She remains silent for some time -- long enough for Emmanuel to have to snap her back to consciousness with another question. She blinks, twice... venturing uncertainty in her voice: "... And wings, I think?"
"Wings." Emmanuel offers in echoed agreement with Euphemia, "Many true angels are winged. Like those in the pop culture, hm? This is where this comes from." He explains and then gestures over toward Lilah, "The demigods show strength even beyond many of the other supernaturals when they have traded their humanity for power. They are also hardier, sometimes. Harder to hurt, and they very well might be living forever. Unless, of course.." He raises a hand to slice fingers across his neck, and then lets it drop. "The speed of angelborn is another sign. When they are fed on corruption they can be moving faster than the eye can follow, hm?"
Brian nods. "Yeah, that's something to see, alright. I just recently saw one grab another full-grown person and leap a good 30 feet while holding them, and supposedly they weren't even trying hard."
Opal purses her lips around her gum, still chewing and thinking. There is a small frown appearing on her face, struggling perhaps to keep up with some of the discussion, but she does her best to absorb some knowledge from those about.
Cherie speaks up, "For angel born, what abouta declining ability to act on their own will? Transitioning to more of a... living tool, than a person?"
Euphemia nods, raising a hand again. "...Is feeding the only way for u- for them to get that strong? You mention that it's a sign of corruption."
"This can be a possibility, oui." Emmanuel notes over towards Cherie, as he leans against the podium, and makes a so-so sort of motion, "But I think this depends on the personality of the angelborn too, hm? They still possess their own free will, it might just be being that their hesitations loosen as they give in. It is different with true angels. They are slaves. Unless they forge an angelic collar, hm?" Then he's glancing over toward Euphemia with a little turn of the lips, almost a sad thing, "It is a path, hm? The more you are walking it, and embracing the magic? The more corrupt you are becoming, as the parasite inside grows stronger. Feeding grows it. Making the choice to hurt others grows it. This is why the White Oak encourages the careful, and reserved use of these abilities, hm? Lest we are becoming weapons of mass destruction."
"I don't believe that, Emmanuel," Lilah says after a moment. "I truly don't. There are people that never climb to the heights of power that are as corrupt as can be. Yet they could easily shelter under an umbrella of Temple or Order anyway. And there are others, who find their balance. You're scaring her," she states bluntly, her earlier emotional angst now sharpening against a new target, though it's her own self that's a wreck, eyes glistening, skin pale. "She has every possible chance to find balance. She is /not/ doomed to become a monster just because she breathes. Don't." The last word is a plea. For either him or Euphemia, someone. "Just don't," she pleads again.
"I don't believe that, Emmanuel," Lilah says after a moment. "I truly don't. There are people that never climb to the heights of power that are as corrupt as can be. Yet they could easily shelter under an umbrella of Temple or Order anyway. And there are others, who find their balance. You're scaring her," she states bluntly, her earlier emotional angst now sharpening against a new target, though it's her own self that's a wreck, eyes glistening, skin pale. "She has every possible chance to find balance. She is /not/ doomed to become a monster just because she breathes. Don't." The last word is a plea. For either him or Euphemia, someone. "Just don't," she pleads again.
Opal looks over to Lilah, frowning, but her lips are twisted as if she is confused about something, not as if it is insult. It makes her chew her gum harder.
"People can be shitheads. Or not." Novel says, after a long heartbeat, offering a shrug. "Seems like what Emmy's trying to say is that somewhere it changes from choosing to -being-, just by fucking existing."
"Not all 'corruption' comes from magic." Emmanuel allows in simply response to Lilah, "Not every bad person is a supernatural, hm? But that does not make it any less true that chasing this magic strength comes with a cost." Then there's a gesture over toward Novel, "This might be a better explanation, oui." To be fair, English is Emmanuel's second language.
Euphemia seems to shrink away from Emmanuel's eyes, glacial eyes averting to the floor. It's Lilah's words that finally drag her back to reality, though -- the smaller girl offering her deskmate a warm smile and a light squeeze of the hand. "... I'm okay, no need to worry." She murmurs, gesturing towards herself. "I can accept this. Strength comes with a cost. I just need to take measures to make sure I never turn my blade on the wrong person."
Brian packs up his things. He looks at Emmanuel and says, "Thank you for this. I am sorry to duck out early, but I have to attend to a few things."
Euphemia continues... "Or if I should..." She turns, nodding pointedly to Emmanuel. "I can be confident in good company."
"I'd say agree to disagree, but... this is seriously fundamental, and I can't," Lilah states. She reaches over and shakes Euphemia's shoulder. "Stop that shit," she demands of her. "What you just said? You're saying that if you GIVE someone else power over you, you can be sure that that power won't corrupt them?" She snorts, then shakes her head. "No. No I refuse to believe that everyone born with power in their blood is doomed. I refuse. I've fucking -fought-. I've been through fucking -hell-, and I refuse to accept that despite it all, I'm fucking screwed. That you're fucking screwed," she says defiantly, gazing at Euphemia. "Or you," she adds with a look to Novel. "No."
"Mhmm." Emmanuel quirks a quick turn of the lips toward Euphemia, before clearing his throat, "Now, the last anchored world? The Wilds." There's a pause, "It is exactly what it sounds like on the tin, hm? A wild place. Lilah, would you like to share any of your experiences, or knowledge on this place?"
"No," Lilah repeats to Emmanuel when he seems so very happy to accept what Euphemia just did. She stares at him, entirely aghast. She just stares. But then she says, as she rises with her tablet, empty water bottle, and bag, "It's beautiful. It's insane. Things come to life with wild magic. Dinosaurs exist. Spiders the size of German Shepherds exist. The people... have such freedom, and technology is all but non-existent." As she speaks, she heads for the door, standing firm in her protest.
"..You are not doomed, unless you choose to be, oui?" Emmanuel comments on Lilah's point then, leaning against his podium once more, "It is a choice, hm? To become a monster, or a supremacist, or corrupt. It is a choice. The White Oak, and I, am wanting the students here to make the right one. To be choosing the needs of the many over the needs of the few, hm? To choose humanity over power."
Opal is distracted with her phone. It's probably just ADHD, really, or a bad self-diagnose as Lilah has a spat with Emmanuel, and Euphemia looks the more uncomfortable. She looks up, trying to catch the social faux pas, but she's unable to really. Poor thing. Instead, she keeps her silence, probably wisely - and chews her bubblegum.
Lilah sighs heavily at Emmanuel's words, but eventually concedes with a nod.
Novel zones back in from looking at his phone from the discussion, glancing up. "Right, like - that's what I fucking mean. You choose to be a dickhead enough time, then you just are a dickhead. Like Jodie, who just left."
Novel zones back in from looking at his phone from the discussion, glancing up. "Right, like - that's what I fucking mean. You choose to be a dickhead enough time, then you just are a dickhead. Like Jodie, who just left."
"..I think I have used up enough of your valuable time, hm?" Emmanuel comments then with a sheepish turn of the lips towards those gathered here, "There is a rumour that the Wilds are the source of the werewoofs, hm? Though, others say that they first appeared up around Norway, and the other cold, cold places there. Fenrir, and such. We might never know their source, but we do know that much like the fae, that you can tell if a wolf has slipped too far if they are big as a house, hm?" A beat, "Another way to tell if they are a bad, bad wolf? Is if they are embracing the fullmoon, and running wild. The sanctuary spell is weaker on them, as they are near animals during this. They can, and will kill if not bound. They can turn people through the protection. There is always a human cost for a wolf that runs."
Euphemia nods vigorously, noting down near everything that is being taught to her in this moment Addendum -- "next time, ask about vampires." She murmurs quietly to herself, before closing her book and smiling back up towards Emmanuel. "... Thank you for your time, too. It was nice to get out."
Aera stands up and packs up her laptop and her things. "Thank you, it was a good lesson, and learned lots of things." She bows her head towards the front of the classroom. "Thank you for your time."
"Uh-huh, thanks for the lesson, and what I got!" Opal bops out in an airy soprano, her steel-blue eyes looking more watery and pale as she looks from face to face before settling on Emmanuel. Oh right. He was the one teaching. She gives the man a grateful smile.
it's definitely not been her night, emotionally. Even without the chaotic pull of her bloodlines, she's under a lot of stress and it's showing in every line of her face and body. But Lilah still draws in a steadying breath and says to Emmanuel, "Thank you for the class. Sorry... about the disruptions. It was pretty rude of me." Then, she turns for the door with a lift of a hand in farewell to those gathered. "Good night, everyone."
Lilah says "Only one."