Disclaimer: I own only my original characters, nothing else... Though I wish I owned Kuja.

A/N: Long gap between updates. Dissidia made me update, because Kuja is just too cool for words. Sadly, he’s the only reason I got the game.

Much love to Satoh for letting me write this.

Warnings: This fic will probably end up very, very screwed up in an enjoyable way.

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“Why is it that with every attempt I make to enlighten you incompetent morons, it ends up with something on fire?” Kuja demanded, glaring at the assembled persons. This was a simple assignment, and the spell they were practicing did not even have a fire-glyph in it. Hell, you didn’t even need a chant for it, and yet these ignorant fools had several times –and the wrong incantations at that-.

He had actually intended on trying to teach them something useful this time around, if they had passed this small test. However, since they were useless and could not even manage to change the color of their own clothes on demand, he was just going to go the same way he had last time. By torturing the hell out of them, and not caring if they learned from their mistakes. Only this time, he would tell them where they went wrong, just enough to fall under Lady Hilde’s compulsion spell, but not enough for them to actually learn something.

“You!” He pointed at #14, who was quivering in his elegant robes, his hat slightly scorched from #15’s spell. He had been one of the lucky ones, his partner however was not so fortunate. #15 was glowing from head to foot, covered in what appeared to be sparking confetti. “Instead of trying to choose what color you were changing him, you should have focused on what you were doing. Now your partner will be a blinding eyesore for weeks until he scours that stuff off of his skin.”

Kuja paused, tapping his finger against his cheek as he considered his next target. Eyes sweeping the room, they landed on the unfortunate pair of #337 and #496. It seemed that they had been exceedingly unlucky, as #337 had cast the first spell, which had ended up setting fire to the desks and his partner. #496 was in a lot of pain, but not in danger of dying.

He was going to enjoy this. “#337, what have you been told about mispronouncing words in my classroom?” Kuja purred, recognizing the telltale signs of the mage’s incompetence. The idiot could not even speak properly when casting, yet he never shut up when he was not. His target drew in on himself, yellow eyes glittering with fear.

“Not to do it”. He squeaked out, looking down at his shoes. Kuja was going to do something to him in punishment for wrecking the classroom, maybe turn him inside out again. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a well-manicured hand landed on his shoulder, patting it once before withdrawing. The look on Kuja’s face stated quite clearly that he regarded him –and the rest of them- as something disgusting, but was touching him in order to make him paranoid.

“And you,” Kuja drawled out, stalking over to the still fiery #496. “You should have known better.” With those words, he cast a spell to keep the fire burning for longer, intensifying the pain, but healing #496 as he burned, keeping him alive, but in a lot of pain.

Shiv and Clara were both unconscious, so he would have to lecture them after they awakened. With a flick of his wrist, he switched their clothes and made Shiv’s hair grow two feet before tying it up into pigtails. Smiling wickedly, he went on the next pair, both of whom were smiling triumphantly, and bright green.

“Congratulations, you’ve succeeded in proving you’re not complete morons, now clean up the classroom.”

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