Speaking with Conviction--Debate I.

Fingers coiled along the wooden handle. Her rocking chair transformed into her throne. The door opened as her pale eyes lingered onward, scanning the divine. Pages flung into the hallways advertising the affair. To allow the Professor to preach her insight, to linger into the scholar’s ear. She yearned for change, for an association. No longer would this room rain with giggles and blush. For within the Formal world there is no gender, allowing both the sexes the opportune moment. A man show bow, a lady shall curtsey, each action altered however, the purpose the same. This is what she wanted. She wanted purpose.

Her voice rang like the morning chime, calling for the believers to rise. For their steps to follow the preset path as she outlines her rational. “Conviction! Speak not unless you plan to be heard? Speak on behalf of yourself, your belief, speak with morals and reasoning! Never stutter or slur. Never slurp the tea the queen pours for you! Raise your pink, tilt your head and allow the liquid to drown you. Never cough, never sneeze! Never doubt what you are told! Silence is the enemy. Whispers are for the insecure. This is debate. Argue your point if you feel I am wrong. Speak out against with pride and confidence. Say your piece than add more.”

As she spoke Margo giggled as her own voice echoed off the hallway walls grabbing hold of the wandering ears. Calling out to the tempters. “Argue with me! For a queen should never pour her tea! For she has the authority and control for others to do it for her. Such an idea it is. Such a thought of control. What audacity she has to be so demanding, so expecting. She is the queen. You, you are her royal subject. Catering to her whim. This you never speak your mind, speak what you believe in.”

Margo shook her head lightly as she arched her shoulders, her spine straight as she sat with poise. “Who gives the queen the power? She took all that you have. Who gives me the authority to sit on my own throne? For am I the queen of Formalities? Ha, you must think of me so cruel and blunt, or brilliant. You are judging me aren’t you? Your mind twisting as the wheels of thought turn. Yes. Come now speak up. Speak with conviction. Follow the outline I have just told you. Or have you forgotten what you were told? That is the first rule, never forget what you feel, you can always forget what you know, for knowing is changing. I order it as the queen? Unless you object than tell me so.”

Her plump lips curled into a smile as her head tilted to the side. Awaiting for the suitors to rise against, to speak their mind for all the court to hear.

Cries from down the hall drew him in. This voice was familiar. Though it had been quite some time since their paths had crossed. "Hmm, Margo-sensei is memory serves..." He spoke to himself, as he followed the sounds. A twisted little smirk played at his lips. The words became clear as he drew closer. What odd statements. Freezing by the door to listen, the tips of his right fingers tapping the entrance handle.

In the end, the only question in his mind. Long fingers curled around the handle and twisted. With a final push he entered, his head lowered to the ground. Though his voice was far from quiet. "Ma'am... My name is Kouichi Aizawa." With a slight bow of the waist, his introduction was brief. "So you are the queen of this domain?"

"You who sit and demand pleasure from others. I question not the power you have, but your intentions. What are your goals in claiming such a tittle?" Moving in case any others may wish to join. "Will you lead me to peace? or will the path you lead be scattered with bloodshed?"

Indeed, her words left much to speak on. His head lifted from the bow. "What does royalty mean, when the peasants rise against? Merely a spoiled brat without a servant to boss around." Raising to straighten up. "Speak. Rise against, but follow the outline. Do you fear usurpers, that you lay down rules of engagement?"

"In fact I usurp your power. Bringing you to my level. State your case, and prove tome you are worthy of such words. Do not turn. Never back down. Defend your stance." True he was not part of her class. Still, his understanding of how she spoke left him with the impression she wished any to come speak. This was his answer, a new challenge. This was the mind of Kouichi.

His natural smirk and resting closed eyes, left an always cheerful expression. Awaiting she who invited his words.

Her elbow locked along the arm of the rocking chair as her palm faced him. Fingers stretched to coax the air as he spoke her fingers coiled. Capturing his words. The tips of her shoes tapping the floor as the rocking chair swung up and throw. A creaking as the wood collided with stone, an eerie taunt as he slandered. She allowed him his peace as her closed hand moved to rest below her chin, supporting her slanted face. Her lips pouted in slight distaste as she pulled apart his approach.

“Dare you question authority young Aizawa Kouichi. Does the mind forget so quickly? How can one forget a teacher, how can a pawn forget their queen. You come to my sanctuary and ask me for thy name, when the name you speak is so familiar. You know who I am, and you expect me to answer such a foolish question.” Margo laughed as she rose from her throne as she descended forward. Approaching him slowly as her hips pivoted in calculated circles. Stalking the student as she was only inches before him. The smirk faded as her head turned to the preset table as her hand motioned for the cup to follow.

The tea pot poured the brew until the brim as a spoon quickly dropped two sugars inside. As the spoon stirred the cup became the caldron as the tea was her potion. Hovering towards her she took hold of the handle as she took a slow sip. Her eyes fixated on him as she swallowed. The tea cascading down her throat as she released her grip. Her hand motioning towards a chair as she took her own seat. “You have much to learn Lord Kouichi. For you must never assume which path another chooses. To question my ethic is rather repulsive. Considering I am one of Formal Graces. A lecture is not needed at this time for you are aware of my stand point. As are all the Lords and Ladies who witness my steps, hear my songs, and follow my lead. The ones that remain in the flock shall always follow their shepherd. The shepherd keeps them safe.”

Margo crossed her legs tightly underneath the table as her shoulders arched, her spine aligned she stared at him with intimidating glances. “ When I ask for conviction I do not mean for a trial Sir Kouichi. To speak with conviction is I am pulling out the common traits of a debate. What you are doing is questioning instead of answering. That is not how a debate works. You answer, access, than discuss the opposition. Your own battle tactic is very raw and needs work. This is not Formalities, I am not here to instruct you how to bow and properly stand. This is a reflection on yourself and how you are able to handle conversations with meaning. This is beyond the common Hello, and How are you? Think and feel at the same time! No need to raise your voice and shout out for the masses to hear you. Speak with confidence in your reply.”

Margo took another sip of tea as she blinked slowly at the student. “You rejected my classes based on lack of appeal. Now you come here either wanting to learn something or to prove yourself? Now let us try again, without you assessing my judge of character and if I am wrongly a sadistic creature who would rather lock my teeth into your neck and drink your blood. To leave your corpse a prune, no heart beat, no function, no purpose.” Margo tilted her head to the other side as she laughed playfully. “I am a vampire, is that not what I do?”

Margo leaned forward as she placed her hand along the other chair. “I am only teasing Lord Kouichi, your company is appreciated. I speak with such firmness in my voice is due to the firm attribute to debate. To stand for your case. How is the lord doing in his school work? Care for a treat?” Margo twisted her torso as she lifted up a silver cover of a tray revealing frosted sugar cookies. The frosting light and creamy while the center of the cookie was moist.

"I do no question or attack. Simply found such a strong welcome too good to pass up play off from. My apologies for going over board." Bowing his head with more respect than one would think. The irregular blond hair falling then flipping back as he lifted his head. "Perhaps my past has yet to learn it's place." His very way of presenting himself altered. It held much more pride and maturity. His left arm lifted and his hand drifted smoothly. "May I?" His hand gestured to a chair not far from his hostess.

Electric blue orbs gazed to her. Her small diverging subject of being a vampire merely entertained him. His lips curling into a small grin. Without hesitation, the seat was occupied.

"I also did not just discard your class. Besides personal... Habits. It also came to my attention that your class was quite full." A soft chuckle accompanied every words. Like a simpleton from a mountain village, he seemed to always be cheery. "I merely didn't want to be a bother, or some over whelming factor." At least he did not fear the instructor like he did many other females within the the confines of the academy. She in fact was like any other form of instructors he had within his short life. Much more a genderless entity, in his own mind.

His body twisted and shifted, until it finally was satisfied. A very street way to sit indeed. His legs were off to the side a bit, knees shoulder width apart. His torso was still facing her though. His right palm lifted into the air slightly and acted as though to snatch up tiny spirits. "It's not the words, or the voice that is always important. A good audience will also feed off the forms and body language. Whether you are on stage or on the street. Would you not agree to some extent?"

Margo listened to him once more as she sipped quietly. As he questioned her Margo shook her head slowly. “In mention to the audience it does not apply when discussing with a forum. When you are speaking with someone, outside forces should not alter your judgment based on their arousal. If someone comes to you and tells you they will only agree with you if you feel the same as them this could cause an altercation if you do not truly agree. Persuasion is given with reason and rational. An audience will clap and cheer for the side they find is winning. Debate is a duel of the minds and matters not of the strength and dexterity. The world revolves around thinkers and doers my dear. Teachers are the thinkers while the students are the doers. Students are our future. They are the reason why we are here.”

Margo took another sip of tea as she thought of him speaking of her class being full. Margo smiled. “When the students are ready to blossom they venture out into the real world. You take what you are given and create a path for yourself. My adoring little flowers, so many of them have bloomed, leaving this world, leaving my room to gain their own stepping into reality. Alas, as of late Sir. I am alone without Kalika. She is the purest of demented souls. As we all are at times. Twisted and confused. She is my adoring little bud.” Margo sighed as she batted her eyes thinking of the students who have left her room.

As far as you being apart of Formalities if you wish for the connection of joining this prestigious room than I may write a recommendation stating the essential need for you to partake in my teachings so you may become a more prosperous contributor to the world. As of what I observe you are lacking proper charisma as well as posture, poise, and need to be redefined into the Graces As of now I see that you need aid in maturing. Do not take offense to my proposal my dear young Lord. See instead. That a female alpha wishes to change you, mold you, once you re planted you may grow into an adult. Just allow me to help you. I just need parchment and quill to sign my name upon the bottom of the letter, if you desire I can deliver my findings to the Headmistress herself. Her and I such close friends.”

Margo tipped the cup along her lips once more as she eyed him lightly.

"In time, I'll die. Be it in a peaceful way, of in a time or violence... I fear missing out on the fun times. I've already missed so much.... No, lost so much." His smile died out, and his eye lids opened once more. He knew full well not everyone saw life how he did, and even tried not to force it upon anyone. Yet, as though he had committed some horrid crime, here his respected instructor spoke as though he were some mere fool. "The statement, Life is what you make it, does not apply to me."


Of course he would never turn down guidance from anyone. Though it was also painfully clear that the mannerisms of which this lady taught were going to be difficult for him. Though perhaps it was delightful for her. Though thrill of new things was offered, it also stirred an unsettling feeling. Now fully aware of how these people of western cultures saw him. "Now, question. Is it a grudge against me, or do you feel all Eastern people are savages?"


It was not an intentional attack, merely a question that must be asked. He felt it was much less what he knew, but how he was everyday. His lack of responsibility, and if such was the case. He felt very proud of himself. That was an impossible option though. There was no way this person had such a sore nerve about responsibility.

He remained silent still. Watching, awaiting her answer with the hungriest of gazes. He was not childish at least. Though perhaps he was much more hallow without it.

Margo smiled as he spoke. Pleading his own case as he rejected her own nature of his case. By rejection she felt he was ill mused on the offering to join her in delight. Her face remaining pure as she refused to show any weakness to a student. For she was the commander and this her fortress here to defend her own honor and glory. If he wished no part in her victory than a savage in his words he would be. “Rudeness is a person’s response in a way to demoralize another, to weaken them off their stance to lower themselves in such a manner that contradicts their purpose. How humiliating it must be to live on your stomach and crawl upon the filthy floor. How appalling it is to be assaulted. Thus the debate on words over actions and of the two truly give pain.”

Margo took another sip as she thought of punishment. “Never would I dare punish another, for persecution is not my way, however to reveal ones false will is part of the process of learning. Never would I call you a savage my dear young man. To divide the world in coordinates is placing our world on a map instead of the sphere shape it truly is. You see my dear…my dear sweet lord that each custom does have dignity whereas it may insult another, upbringing is a key fundamental and to continue that upbringing in a foreign place where your mannerisms is frowned upon. Than one must reflect and slowly and willingly absorb the customs of another. May you be a stranger in a foreign land, moving to unknown quarters of the world, or a weary traveler searching for a purpose.”

Margo removed her hands from the handle as she folded them along her lap. Looking back at his gaze with gentle intensity. “A beggar my dear will ask for food in a foreign tongue will get stomped over without any verbal rejection, why? For the reason that none care to understand. A beggar speaking in words which another understands will get spoken rejection as well as possible physical warning. Which do you prefer? Having the knowledge that you will get kicked so you may move? Or looking baffled with intense bewilderment than get hit? The brightest and wisest of beggars learn how to survive. For is that not a part of this life you claim is nothing more than living?”

Margo giggled slightly as she smiled. “In order to die one must live first. After they life your body kisses the earth as the two blend creating the soil as others use your body as a form of life source. How charming it is to be used even after death such a strong value for little purpose. Unless milord you would rather be the baffled beggar and perhaps die not only with an empty stomach, a quenching throat and battle wounds to be displayed for all walks of life to frown upon. All are welcome as long as they change. Through the phases of life we all learn something, the ones who just life to life learn nothing.” Margo nodded her head lightly to him.

Accepting her words with a smile in reply, he nodded. "Logic of a scholar is not my strong suit. Excuse my sharp tongue." His head once more lowered in a bow. "I apologize for my rudeness."

The index finger of his right hand slid up to his lips. "No, no. A simply apology shall not suffice here. I admit defeat in this game of verbal chess. I was in over my head on the first 'bout. Do write that letter of recommendation I shall take it seriously this time. And see for myself, this beauty you find in it."

His eyes were still so cold. Standing once more from the chair. Left arm extending with a wide spread hand, palm aiming towards his stomach. "I do believe it is customary to 'shake hands' after any agreement is found."

The only option he had left. So the young street dweller was left no choice. Accept it he did, with a rather business look about the topic. No negotiations, no fine print. He was to attend her class. Take it seriously, and learn something.

"You would have been a strong adversary in Go." A compliment, at least it sounded that way. It would be hard to tell if he was being sarcastic with such a monotone voice.

Margo smiled as she bowed her head. “My little lord is speaking with conviction. Submitting in the dearest of ways. So virtuous you are when you lower your head. You have not lost my dear lord, only you are here to gain. Take with you on your journeys. There is a weakness in everyone. Do not lower yourself for you are the one who shall lay down or cave from another. Not they to you.” Margo leaned towards him removing his finger from his lips. “It is rude to fidget when being spoken to. To distract yourself by engaging in physical movements demonstrates your lack of interest, boredom, or insecurities.”

Margo rose with him as he offered his hand. Margo giggled as she took her left hand into his own as she bent his arm at the elbow. She than turned to stand beside him as they both faced the doorway out. She than placed her arm laying the underneath skin over top his arm as the two meshed. “A woman never shakes hands young lord. A man must guide her, be her foundation.” Margo used her free arm to glide down her side as her fingers clumped the side of her dress rising the edges off the floor. She walked slowly with him towards the door smiling as he mentioned taking her class serious.

“You shall be the finest lord in all the land. You shall woe all the Lady Fairs by causing quite the gentle stir. I shall teach you to be charming prince, who shall find his true love and to be such a noble successor in the years to come. Perhaps you have heard of a Fairy Tale Ending, it begins with Once Upon A Time, it always ends with that glorious happy ending. In order to gain that life, that tale for the bards to quote of you must make it so my young lord. I shall mold you with the finest clay as you become familiar with my world.”

She stopped at the door as it slowly opened. The outside world welcoming him back as Margo removed her arm from his own. “I shall go to the Headmistress and speak on your behalf, open your eyes, your heart, and you mind, and you shall see a new reflection, it may appear to be your opposite to you alone, while others see you, a new you right where you stand.”

Margo curtsied as she slowly rose watching him fade off until class, or the next debate.

His very breath froze. Once more these western females insisted on physical contact. The lids of his eyes pried open wider. His eyes devoured the very meaning of fear. Locked in a struggle to just say standing. He saw her lips move, but heard no words. He actions were blurred, and left a bitter feeling in his stomach. It was merely removing his finger, yet his heart was encased in ice. Yet raced faster than the wind. Along the very edges of his pupils, tiny crackling sparks began to discharge.

By the time she had began to guide him. Kouichi's mind had already frozen up. Locked within a vortex of pure emotion. Fear clung to his very being. Following her very lead. Yet still, his very mannerism were better. His posture was straight, and his pace well measured.

At the door, he spun on the heel of his right foot. Bowing at the waist, right arm bent at the elbow and rested against his stomach. "Yes ma'am. I shall learn properly this time around."

With such a farewell, he was off. Walking off as though he was some sort of butler.

Margo watched Aizawa through the doorway, her head slowly tilting in amusement as she felt his agony through her own actions. As she watched the puppet remove his strings he walked so awkwardly. In his own attempt in a gentlemanly action. She smiled as she shook her head lightly. Speaking softly to herself.

“I pray for you my Headmistress, for we have some work to be done with this one. A soldier preparing his arms, shinning his gun, saluting his reflection, vouching for his honor to only be stunned when he learns the war is over. How charming the dreamers are.”

Margo walked to her rocking chair as a quill and empty parchment floated above her head. The items lowered to her hands as she did as she told him, writing her recommendation to be presented before her dear friend. Margo knew the confirmation was not needed and the young Kouichi would be able to venture into Margo’s sanctuary at his own will. However, the letter gave her reason to nogociate time with her sweet princess. As the two have not had tea in such a long while. A new brew would be mandatory for the festivities of such an honorable occasion.