Chapter Text
Most would describe Dr. Clef as incredibly unpredictable, or any other synonym. Maybe occasionally "Asshole" or "Son of a bitch" with the right people. The only thing truly predictable was the fact that his classes went for about twice a week, first thing in the dreaded morning. For about three weeks now, he's been "good" or at least conventional in classes. Oh and the jeans, floral shirt, shades and hat. Every damn day, the only real changes there was what kind of floral button-up shirt (With a big enough collection to make people wonder how many he even has), belt and shoes, but those weren't really changes at all.
The most sort of "Clef-ness" one would notice would be the fact that he'd sometimes play ukulele whilst lecturing, or there'd be a joke slide in the presentation that he'd skip over or the little chalk box castle (lovingly dubbed the Chalkstle) in the corner of the room or maybe even the weird, unexplainable but definitely not anomalous object that'd be sitting around the room somewhere where it was a small jar of teeth or an open bag of Doritos with Lay's inside.
There were Foundation-made textbooks and homework, which were checked and graded with no further comment. Of course, there'd be his remarks and comments as well as his immediate clap-back to anything witty the class would have to say. There's even been bets and counters on how many times he'd swear so they'd continue paying attention in class, and usually it was Dove who won the bets and gained a fresh five dollars from her classmates. Not like Clef cared.
Maybe the rumors were false or over exaggerated. Maybe he just did those tricks at the start of it just so there'd be a hook or a reason to be remembered. He played a few jokes to keep people awake, but it seemed like he was any other teacher aside from the fact that he was younger than them. No one knew anything for sure about Clef as anything he'd try to explain about himself would only lead to more confusion, all the more if he laughs at the end of the answer or at the question posed. The only thing really certain about him was the fact every student agreed to his skill and knowledge, though with a bit of difficulty explaining at times. There was not a single detail left behind and his classes were almost exhaustingly fast-paced at times.
Then again, Clef always seemed to sleep under his desk before class started. It was routine at this point that every morning would start with a gentle nudge from Shard right on the minute that they were supposed to begin. This is the point where there'd be a wink or some sort of sound effect to display that it was a total lie.
It was like this every time: Clef sleeps under his desk, Shard kicks him in the gut and they'd have a bit of an argument over the means and the ends, then Clef would begrudgingly get up, shoo Shard back to his desk, someone would silently question the Ethics Committee's stand on Clef, said person realizes that Clef never seems to be affected by them and the day would start.
Except today, Clef woke up first.
He caught the poor agent off guard as he grabbed his ankle to force him to fall backwards behind the desk. The teacher hadn't been seen by the class yet, however they knew well enough that it was no coincidence that Shard would fall over like that.
Shard, not to be outdone, though embarrassingly on the floor, tried to kick at him again and by some fast-paced action sequence that the poor author is ill-equipped to write, Clef ended up somewhat lightly stepping on his chest and pointing a Nerf gun at his head. One physically harmless but emotionally painful shot later, accompanied by the teacher childishly saying "Bang!" He then walked on him as he made his way to the blackboard, breaking a new piece of chalk in half as per routine.
"You're lucky I didn't hit you in the nuts."
The student just scoffed as he got up, but Clef hit him with the Nerf gun once more before he could let any revenge plans come to fruition, putting the toy down on the desk next to the plastic goldfish in a jar of water. The rest of the class didn't make much comment, at most there were a few small smiles, but he childishly crossed his arms once he got to the desk that was almost uncomfortably too small for him. (Much to the chagrin of the people sitting behind a near seven foot tall agent who all had tried to convince him to sit anywhere else but the front of the class.)
"Anyways, today, anomaly classifications. Get cozy because it's gonna be a long fuckin' lesson. I really shouldn't have to go over this with you, but everyone's just trying to make sure of what they're looking at because we jail the shit that breaks the laws of science that we so foolishly put. You all know that there will always be outliers to a certain rule, especially with something so diverse as anomalies."
The sudden use of "big words" as some would say was a little out of place for Clef, some chalked it up to emphasis, others a little something different or adding to the ever-growing list of reasons why he sounds anomalous. The hint of pride was definitely strange to hear, but as per usual, no comment and no question. Everyone was around long enough to just stop questioning anything that seemed anomalous but wasn't confirmed to be. Besides, containing their teacher would likely not end well.
He broke a piece of chalk in two writing the three main classifications on the board with big and uneven handwriting: Safe, Euclid and Keter. To which, some of the class groaned.
"I know, I know, but let's just go over 'em so I can say we did and we can all go home. You use the box test; Safe means you can leave the box more or less alone and the anomaly will be fine, Euclid is 'what the fuck is happening in the box' and Keter is if you keep your eyes off the box for a second or if the box isn't reinforced, it's probably out by now. Any questions?"
Shard raised his hand but spoke anyway. "You're lying."
"Boo." Clef frowned slightly.
"But you're kinda right." He erased the three words. "That's the bullshit system we use to keep ourselves a little bit sane but the real classifications don't have fancy names half the time. Most of you are projected to be future MTFs or somethinger-other so this is mostly bullshit. There's actually a lot of that, hence why there's SCPs in the four digits now, and there's probably more. We can't contain 'em all but don't worry about it. Much."
The teacher pointed towards the front and snapped his finger. "Delvey, give me one."
"Infohazards?"
Agent Delvey. Well. "Agent." Supposedly a medical doctor, but actually bullshitted her way into the Foundation to working in medical for a couple of weeks before people realized that she actually was bullshitting. Though she was threatened to be terminated (In either sense of the word), the saving grace was a pay raise. If anything, Clef commends it as a promising career as an agent.
"Sure. A good example is..," Clef amusedly glanced back to the class from the board as some students look between themselves in worry. "Just kidding, but that's kind of how it works. You know something you shouldn't and it'll bite your ass. 9/10 times anyway." He snapped his fingers again as the other hand wrote on the board. "Behind Delvey."
"Regeneration?"
Agent Villaluz. One of the students with a few stray silver hairs who was formerly an Ethics Liaison but moved over to Atypical Persuasion for what Clef would assume to be a hard-on for torture. Colloquially and accurately known as "The department that's paid to torture people (Sometimes)," the teacher couldn't care less as to why he was even here.
"Don't be so unsure, but yeah, there's no pretty names for everything, so regenerators will do. Do you wanna name the types or do I bother someone else with it?" He doesn't even look away from the board. "Shard, you look the type of read handbooks and brag about it."
Shard sighed, not bothering to look beyond his notebook as he listed them off from the top of his head. "Flawed, limited, full, and expanding. You want definitions too or?"
"You sound like you stole a GOC handbook, but... That's the list."
Shard just shrugged as reply, still a little upset from the result of this morning's fight. Not that anyone could blame him, in fact this being the first and only time that Clef fought back and needing only a few seconds to get his ass handed to him. Clef's a good agent, he made that much clear.
The teacher called out another name with a snap of his fingers. "Ruby."
"Memetics?"
Dr. Ruby. Medical rather than an actual PhD which everyone thought he deserved but would never pursue. Everyone who wasn't in a main office under someone else or had other honorifics were given agent by default anyway. Personality-wise was the "quiet kid." Whatever that implies is up to everyone else in the room.
"Give me definitions." Clef's losing patience as he continues writing on the board, throwing names together from memory though he vaguely understood everyone's backgrounds at this point.
"Something you observe with any sense but are affected upon exposure?"
Clef walked back to the desk to grab the toy gun and shoot a foam dart straight to Ruby's forehead. "How many times do I have to fuckin' say this? Don't be unsure, just go. It pisses me off." Thankfully, he put it back down to continue writing.
"Last one. Comstock."
"Reality benders?"
Agent Comstock. Site security, who's being moved over to a better MTF after showing "remarkable skill" during a breach. Hates the job but likes the pay, like roughly 70% of the population within the Foundation, if not more.
"Rare, sorta, but yes. My personal specialty actually." Clef really made it habit to wink occasionally though no one would notice it from underneath the sunglasses or hat. The lights flickered too but it was too quick to tell if it was a simple blink or not. "Right in the name because it's easier to identify shit without all the fancy things like Euclid and Keter, which, I will never understand why, people will still mix up as how dangerous something is. A Safe Class object can kill you too, it just lives in a locker now or something."
Clef continued writing the list, but it was becoming painfully clear that there were too many to actually list down on the board as it became less like a list and more like an unreadable block of words in different sizes that had overfilled the chalkboard and whiteboard, aside from the three inches on top that he didn't plan on trying to tip-toe to reach.
It was only then that people began to notice that he painted his nails black recently, and it was also in that moment that people noticed that his nails were a little longer than you'd expect of an agent. Not necessarily long by anyone's standards, but definitely enough to hear clicking noises if he ever were to use a phone. (Additionally, it turns out the phone number he gave not too long ago was a joke number that went to a scam.)
The teacher continued writing. No one made much effort in actually writing down the list as it was somewhere in the rented textbooks, but when he started to hear some casual talk begin to start, he slowly scratched at the chalkboard for ear-piercing screeches, making every student cringe at the sound with some covering their ears though Clef himself didn’t react at all, not so much as a blink or a muscle tensed.
"Fuck you." Shard said to everyone's agreement, making Clef scratch the board one more time out of spite.
"Anyways."
Clef kicked off his shoes and put his feet up on the desk as he sat down. "It just completes the look," he commented off to the side, casually admiring the black nail polish as he continued talking. "General point is, you need to know shit. You've all been here for a while now, you're still pretty new, but it's long enough to get an idea. So tell me honestly," he put down his hand to seemingly stare back at the class, "Would you die for this job?"
The students looked between each other to follow a bandwagon if there was. Mostly the R&C and Disinformation agents nodded (Minus Verlaine, who shrugged). The taller agents were often picked for the harder jobs, not that it made sense half the time, but it was superstition that the taller you were, the better luck you'd have in the field. Among them, Shard shook his head. On-site employees like Weiss and Delvey were given privilege of security, but they've both seen containment breaches that lead them to a hesitant nod, though truthfully they were just in it for the money.
"Huh." Clef put his shoes back on and looked left and right as he stood in front. "Don't worry. You will." The full laugh that came after was almost sinister with the amount of humor behind it. A little too much enthusiasm for anyone's liking or comfort, but who were they to complain? "Don't. You. Worry. There's a reason why the pay's so high when you first look at it. The world of anomalies is unpredictable and scary, even if you'll catch a few lucky ones on the way, but there's no such thing as being safe here. It's for the greater good, so just forget about the lesser good for a second, will ya?"
The teacher's smile faltered and came back brighter, all the more it became disturbing, but it faded slowly as he spoke. "That is what I've been practicing to say to you."
"Y'see, the Foundation does what it needs to do. Whatever happens, something is going to break, but they've been in the game long enough to not be stupid about it. Don't let it be you. Don't die, don't falter, nothing. You matter but you also don't. In short, you're disposable but not expendable. Someone's there to take your place, it's what we do, but don't let it be because you got killed or chronically injured. Everyone's got your back if they could."
"Son of a bitch, that went dark quick!" Clef clasped his hands together, and the lights went out just the same.
Horror enthusiasts would not find the hum of the power leaving to unfamiliar, in fact they would've coupled it with a less-than-welcome jingle and slight glow of lights, and being maybe a few seconds before death by fright. Every student near-instinctively brought out their phones as flashlights, carefully observing whatever they saw with the dim light and sharp shadows. Most were unfazed by the sudden blackout, but none of them made too much of a reaction. At most a squeak from someone (Weiss) unwilling to admit that they ever would react such a way.
If anything, it was telling who they were. The agents and security looked straight to the doors. Researchers immediately looked inwards since their labs often acted as their safe space in an emergency.
Dove immediately jumped to the door in an attempt to open it. Surely, it’d open; they were inside so it should work.
Except it didn’t. The other agents silently agreed for Verlaine and Shard to break down the door as needed, but to no avail.
Immediately there was an issue.
”Where the hell is Dr. Clef?”
There wasn’t any possible way that he could just escape in a blink like that, so they assumed he was hiding somewhere. He was small after all so it wouldn’t have been issue, yet was still nowhere to be seen.
“Did he just turn off the lights?”
“No, it’s the power.” Weiss stepped on her chair to reach up to the projector on the ceiling, which didn’t turn on despite a few tries.
Meanwhile, Verlaine and Shard were at the door; The only way in and out of the room. It was locked shut despite clicking the little lock on it a few too many times. Clef, in theory, could’ve left through the door, but Dove only shrugged when asked if he passed by there.
Dove, the agent seated closest to door, tried to open the door to look for Clef if ever, but the door refused to open. Surely, they couldn't be locked from the inside? They clicked the lock, but nothing happened, and the doorknob made no movement despite being rattled for the better part of a couple of seconds, grabbing the attention of Verlaine and Shard who had silently agreed to break the door down as needed.
Hell, the little yellow post-it note saying “Just sit back, relax and enjoy the show!” in scratchy, near illegible handwriting did no one any favor, despite it not being there when class started. Verlaine then carefully folded it and put it in his pocket, while Shard had half a mind to just tear it apart since it shouldn't even be possible that the door would be locked like that.
There was always the option to kick the door down but there were two issues: Clef’s signature shotgun wasn’t even in the room that day so the easy way wasn’t there and there was no noise at all from outside, nor from the wall dividing the two classrooms, so it was more than likely safe. Or they were dead, which was a stretch. They couldn't have been killed that quickly... Unless they were already dead. No, Clef wouldn't do that. Then again, there was no way of contacting anyone since there was no signal where they were (For security purposes, and the fact that they didn't really trust the students at the moment.)
Clef's voice was suddenly heard in the classroom, despite the frantic looks left and right showing that he wasn't inside in the first place. The fact that the exact location of where the sound was coming from wasn't discernible only made for a shitty horror scene that they were living through. The room hadn't changed in the slightest either.
"So it was kinda literal. The whole "That went dark" thing. So what? Funny joke. Besides, no one's gonna die in this classroom, I promise. Maybe not promise. I can't see the future, but the chances look pretty good for all of you so I wouldn't worry about a thing."
Tap... Tap... Tap...
Some would argue the sound of tapping wood came from the ceiling, others would say it was from the floor. The flashlights immediately pointed up and down with no real agreement nor compromise. All they knew was that it was like the sound of a fingernail tapping against wood with a second or so between each tap.
"What the fuck is that?"
"It's from the ceiling." Byun replied, looking up and adjusting her glasses.
"No, it's not. It's from the floor."
One of the flashlights flicker off. A dead battery, one would assume, but the fact that the phone just shut off on its own with no warning was suspicious on its own. At least it was just one of the roughly twenty in the room.
Of course, the owner of the flashlight tried to mask her horror. Weiss frantically tried to get it to work but to no avail, cursing under her breath for being the one targeted out of twenty five.
"Real funny, Clef." Shard rolled his eyes as if he's seen this a thousand times.
Tap... Tap... Tap...
Another flashlight died out.
Seeing that it was Verlaine's, he didn't seem too fussed. He only shook his phone a bit, tried to turn it on again then pocketed it like nothing happened. He had nothing to fear, at least in his head.
"Okay, what the fuck is happening?"
Those who were painfully aware of the ticking clock above the door had something else to think about as it immediately fell off in a crash louder than it should've been. One could argue that it was deafening, but maybe it was the fact that the fear was slowly beginning to set in. Just what was Dr. Clef doing? Or where was he? Some even questioned if he was even human at this point, but it would be too early to confirm anything.
Some went to look at the clock, but at the moment they were stuck. What the hell were they supposed to do? Clef’s gone and disappeared, flashlights are slowly going out, the door’s fucked but no one was sure if they should actually try to break down the door or if this is another one of Clef’s antics. Was it even harmless? What’s next?
And another flashlight went out.
It was Agent Sparks’ phone. He chalked it up to the poor thing being beat up and old, but coincidences are rarely coincidences. A few shakes, flicks, button presses and a few words of encouragement followed by insult but nothing happened. Were they all going to lose their flashlights?
Tap... Tap... Tap...
This one was louder but the exact same beat. A fingernail tapping against wood when there were neither to be found.
”Shouldn’t you guys, I don’t know, break us out or something?” Sparks asked the three at the door, all of whom shook their heads.
”This is Dr. Clef we’re talking about,” Dove started “Breaking down the door’s kind of a stupid move.”
”Why?”
Shard interrupted. “Because it’s Dr. Clef.” The words were rightfully bitter and the reasoning seemed sound enough.
”Any plans then?”
”Sit it out, he can’t hurt us.”
”No but, by that rule, he can make something else hurt us.”
”What’d be the point of that?”
”To prove some point, fuck do I know?” He crossed his arms. The light of the flashlights were becoming uncomfortable in the room. There was no exact thing they were pointing at as their focus moved left and right. The shadows were oddly sharp but maybe it was the fact that it was small amounts of white light in a dark, mostly gray room that was reminiscent of a horror scene.
The conversation was cut short with a loud “OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE, DR. CLEF, YOU PIECE OF SHIT” from the other side of the room.
Condren put his phone away, putting no effort to try to get it to work again. Horror wasn’t his strong suit in any way. He worked in Disinformation to forget this specifically, at least there he could control the situation. It was always some unlucky bastard who saw too much and he was supposed to be the one making the “accidents,” but that wouldn’t hold true here. For obvious reasons.
It was uncomfortable, to say the least. The situation itself wasn’t scary, it was a bad attempt at most, but it was the unpredictability of it. What happens if all the lights went out? What’s the tapping? Where’s Clef? Why is this happening? Would something else fall?
Clef never made any pop culture references beyond very vague childhood things that hardly anyone remembers so it really was just guessing at this point. He hated to be reassuring anyway, always having a little sparkle when he’d ask “Are you sure?” You could tell him 1 + 1 is 2 and he’d make you doubt yourself, and that was true for majority of the class.
Tap... Tap... Tap...
"Sometimes, you just gotta look up."
The lights immediately went back on with a very much welcome hum of electricity and Dr. Clef seemed to have fallen out of the... ceiling with a crash. There was a gaping hole where a ceiling tile should have been and a dusty Clef right under it, who then went into a coughing fit for a few uncomfortable seconds.
"How the fuck-" A couple students said in unison.
He coughed out some extra dust before starting. "I can't tell you that because you might injure yourself and I can't do that!" He said brightly. “But then again, kinda not my fault if you do something stupid even if it clearly looks stupid."
”Don’t you have asthma or something?” Shard asked.
”If I did, the dust would’ve killed me there-“ He went into another coughing fit over the course of ten or so seconds and everyone was closed to convinced he was going to need some medical help. Close, but not really. Right now their priority was getting back to their seats and recovering from a horror scene straight out of a bad movie.
“Is no one else that interesting in this class? No personality? At all?”
"You need mental help." Shard was more than bitter that morning.
"My therapist needs a therapist, so I won therapy."
Anyone who wanted to interject that it's not how it works stayed silent. Shard was more dumbstruck with confusion than much else. Neither knew that Clef's future therapist is sitting in that room and listening to this class but it might end up being another ten or so years before that'd happen or even become possibility.
He turned his back to the class and rubbed off the dust from his sunglasses with his shirt, turning around to put them back on again. "So! Now that we got that settled," Clef put his hands in his pockets. "What color are my nails?"
A few made their guesses off to the side alongside confused looks, but Shard spoke up, as he always did, and he rolled his eyes because it sounded like a stupid question. "They're black, sir."
"Aren't you sarcastic this morning?" Clef spat back. "Do you think you're right?"
"I have eidetic memory." Shard said nonchalantly as if it were another random fact. The problem is that it's entirely true.
Delvey cut in to correct her seat mate with a calm confidence to her answer. “They’re blue, doctor.”
Clef’s lips curled into a smile, pointing at Delvey to confirm that it was just a dark shade of blue not so far from black but he faced the taller agent next to her. "I don't remember what I had for breakfast but I'm still the one teaching you here, so fuck you. Delvey's right, though."
He pulled out his other hand from his pocket and held his left hand up to the light. Seeing the distance, it was still difficult to even say that it was dark blue but the students in front saw it better, though it seemed only Delvey noticed that his nails were blue instead of black. "Now, the question in your heads right now is probably 'How the fuck is that important?' Well, easy, everything's important. Every little detail. You can't just assume something's 'normal' anymore, so you take in everything that is a little out of place. No one was born with nails like these, not unless, y'know, obvious reason."
The teacher went to his seat and coughed some more, taking a beat-up thermos to drink whatever definitely-not-water content was inside. No one was fazed by the fact that there was a stray drop that seemed to be blood, but they were used to Clef's antics and "love for small details" at this point, so there was no point in asking questions that would only lead to more questions rather than answers.
"So! What anomaly do you think it was? Just throw together an answer based on what you saw. Ignore everything else like it was me or whatever. From when the lights went out to me falling out the ceiling, what’s your thought? Byun, go.”
"Whatever it was, it had human intelligence."
"What a basic fuckin' answer." Clef moved towards the blackboard, taking a broken piece of chalk to start writing. "But sure, just make sure say sentience so everyone's clear once it's on the paper, because human intelligence can either be stupid as hell or smarter than you, and you can't really measure that. In front of you.”
“Manipulation of electricity?” Agent Harken threw haphazardly, hoping that the foam dart wouldn't hit him. Another Retrieval and Containment Agent, because the Foundation needs them in large, large amounts to solve their copious quantities of quandaries. Also an avid alliteration enjoyer, when not existing in extensive amounts of fear for the feral doctor or for the Foundation's forever figuring of funny little beings (in an odd way). Also American in case anyone reads the following dialogue wrong.
Luckily enough, Clef was kind enough not to do that. Or he was going to try to foster a false sense of security for the other half of the class, either way it was difficult to tell when he was pissed off beyond humorous reasons.
“What made you say that?” There was never a moment when Clef wasn't some type of smug, whether it be a smile or a smirk or a refusal to reassure the restless student.
“It was the power that packed up and left, not the lights alone.”
“Anything else?" The teacher looked elsewhere. "Kawakami, give me something.”
“Weiss, Verlaine, Sparks and Condren’s phones died just like that.”
Agent Kawakami. Transferred in from the Japanese branch because of being, you guessed it, another intel agent. Ended up staying in the US for whatever vague bureaucratic reason then was dropped to Security instead of back to the Japanese branch, but is on her way to do something with better pay, starting with this class. May or may not have to do with the fact that she can make Villaluz look like a complete amateur at his job, but it's a fact best forgotten for everyone's sake.
“And this isn’t coincidence?” Clef kept a sly smile, looking over to the next student. “Condren, got anything to say with the phones thing?”
“My phone was fully charged before I got here and wouldn’t respond to the power bank.”
“So?” Dr. Clef just casually glosses over the fact that he was cussed out no less than a few minutes ago, but it was for good reason. Maybe.
“It wasn’t coincidence, especially since we all lost battery even if it did have some charge left.”
“Sounds fun. You’re wrong, sorta. Someone make a different guess. But, let’s continue elsewhere while you think about that. The entity is sentient, what are its intentions? Comstock.”
“Hostile?”
“Why? So it made funny sounds, does that make it hostile?”
“It makes it capable of hostility.”
Clef furrowed his brows as if he was told 1 + 1 = 3. “Everything with intelligence is capable of hostility. It's just the exact method that differs." He waved his hand dismissively. "Forget that you’re part of the Foundation or whatever, what does it want with a group of twenty adults?”
The class went dead quiet, maybe partial guilt but the rest would be in thought. Then Shard picks up from there with an answer everyone agreed with, but earned a stifled laugh from Condren at most.
”Because it’s an asshole who thinks he’s better than everyone else.”
Clef only shrugged to play the same old game he always does. “Eh. Try again.”
”Fuck you, I’ll leak your real name.”
”You can’t even spell it.”
"It's my name just as much as yours."
"No, it's not, Shard." The teacher noted to add a bite to the name.
Shard hated being one-upped, so he felt the need to mock him with it. "Yes, it is, sir."
Following their little argument in the background, several students often wondered what the relationship between the two were. They knew each other, but they were both incredibly young for anyone affiliated with the Foundation yet had practically no similarity in appearance. At most, they did try to piece clues together, but none of them would bother to find out their real names nor ask. It was amusing to see Dr. Clef act human for once, then again, Shard also happened to accentuate that he probably wasn't but probably is and is just a weird guy. The teacher did sometimes sneak lessons into their arguments so they had to be listened to no matter what.
Then they were snapped back out of their thoughts when Clef shot the toy gun twice: One to Shard's forehead, another to his eye. The second didn't hit directly but Shard couldn't catch it because of the first one, so it did hurt him enough to shut him up without having to cause too much concern from anyone beyond Delvey, his seat mate, who just glanced at him to see if he was alright. Just as planned.
Clef's gaze snapped back to the rest of the class. "Let's go back to trying to figure out the anomaly. It's not electricity manipulation, why is that?" His patience only lasted two seconds, seeing no one reply, so he snapped his fingers. "Gold, go."
"The clock fell."
"So what if the clock fell?"
Gold faked a cough to stall for time. "Because the clock was stable on the wall."
The teacher hardly looked satisfied. He never really was in this class anyways. "So what does that tell you about the anomaly?"
As Gold stuttered out the start of a reply, Clef looked to the other side of the room. His habit of denying reassurance to anyone in the room was slowly getting to them, some faintly taking in a breath and holding it as he looked to his left. Or maybe it was the fact that caffeine wasn't exactly the best thing to consume before his class.
"Metal manipulation?"
"Finally." Clef sighed, whether it was in relief or disappointment that it took so long, no one was entirely sure. "I mean it was using electromagnetic fields and physics-ing and this and that, but a lot of it was just pre-planned shit. As you do."
Those with any understanding of physics were several shades of confused. Some wished to correct with “That’s... not how it works,” but figured it was better to stay silent lest they argue with Dr. Clef for the better part of an eternal five minutes. Any other questions about the subject were strictly kept on paper for no one to see for the sole reason of never getting a proper answer.
”Oh and, try not to correct it to ferrokinesis on paper. Leave that for research to decide. It’s true and it works but there’s not much point trying to be all fuckin’ fancy for no one. Just makes you look stupid. Anything else you need to know about the entity?"
There wasn't enough information to make anything conclusive. There was no entity to speak of, unless Clef is counted but no one was sure if that was something to be counted. They didn't see much, things just happened around them and there was no way to test for anything because there was no equipment there. Besides, they had no idea what was even going on or if an anomaly was even involved in the first place. He wouldn't do that, right? That'd be violating containment procedure if he took out an SCP purely for this class, especially something with that effect.
"Anyways..," the teacher's voice trailed off in thought for a second or two, trying to remember what he was supposed to say.
"Why did I just do that? The whole anomaly thing. Easy. Anomalies are unpredictable. Intel can give you good information, sure, but the anomaly could also just turn blue and explode once you're there. You have to be able to have some level of understanding of what you're looking at right then and there. Now, given the situation, what did I do? I made it a circumstance. There was no set cause."
"What's the point? Who the fuck knows. You weren't given a straight objective, it was just something that happened and you had to act based on the little to nothing you had. Happens more often than you think. Also it's funny." He chuckled at the end, though no one shared the humor.
"Mk. Quiz next week. Everything’s in your textbooks anyway.”