[u][b]Armory Class[/b][/u]

Ivan barely managed a grunt as Indigo asked his question, apparently wrapped in both self-pity and the cleaning of his absolutely massive handgun. Instead, he vaguely gestured to where he'd disconnected the actual weapon from the gauntlet. Surfacing momentarily as the professor came in, he lowered his voice and gave the answer. [b]"Maintenance, mostly. My power is stressful on the barrel, and I have to check constantly for warping from the focused heat. It's rare, given the type of metal I used to create [i]Leviathan[/i], but I've seen it happen before."[/b]

Seemingly satisfied with that explanation, Ivan leaned back and kicked his feet onto the table, pulling his oversized hat down over his eyes, half listening to the teacher drone on about what to expect from the classroom. As far as he was concerned, the class hadn't started yet, and everything before that was a motivational speech, if not wasted breath. Probably both at the same time. He snickered quietly to himself, leaning back on his chair before he barely caught the mention of 'White-' out of one of the several fanus present in the room.

The gunslinger managed to turn his sudden snap to attention into a badly disguised yawn, awkwardly stretching his arms over his head and nearly knocking off his ridiculously large hat in his haste. There was only [i]one[/i] well-known organization that could garner such a drastic reaction from the most ill-timed of all Freudian slips. [i]The White Fang.[/i] He ground his teeth almost absently at the mere mention of the name. Horrible criminals who brought harm to the innocent and masked themselves like the dirty scum that roamed the lands outside of the kingdoms. This first day just kept getting better.With his badly created veil of disinterest all but obliterated, Ivan stood bolt upright and glared around the room at the rest of the students, preparing to give his introductory speech.

Even with the annoyance, anger, and new-found suspicion that smoldered behind his intensely green eyes, Ivan's introduction was laced with his signature aggravating amounts of arrogance. He tossed out the syllables simply dripping with disdain, as if this were already something the common masses learned in their childhood schooling.  [b]"My name is Ivan Oakley. I'm a damn good shot and perfectly capable engineer when it comes to projectile based weapons of all sorts, specializing in large caliber guns."[/b] He tossed a glance at the Unsubtle. [b]"Of the more, ah, [i]mobile[/i] variety. My semblance allows them to hit harder than they should."[/b]