[center][u][b]IVAN OAKLEY - ARMORY[/b][/u][/center]

Ivan met Geni's glare with an absolutely withering one of his own, his green eyes burning with intensely focused purpose. In his world of absolutes(Either against the Grimm, or with them. Either hurting the innocent or saving them. Either likable or intensely dislikable. Either heroic or villainous), redemption had never crossed his mind. Criminals went to jail, or the executioners block. Those were the only choices. It wasn't 'murder a few folks and cause copious amounts of public distress' and then get a pass because 'I feel bad about it'. It just didn't work that way. It [i]couldn't[/i]. Taking in a White Fang [i]cultist[/i] of all things just screamed of desperation. Was that it? Was this prodigious school really stooping to such lows? Promise or not, taking some criminal scum of the side of the street just didn't make [i]sense[/i].

In a rare moment of introspection, Ivan glanced around at the rest of the group, breaking the intense glare. He had worked hard to get here, of course, but what about the rest of them? Ozpin said that he only took the best at Beacon, and that meant every single one of these people had taken the test and passed with flying colors. 

Indigo, with his laid-back actions and extremely violent use of his defensive aura.

Ineko, who was hiding some sort of unknowable power in his drones.

The Goldstein boy, with his [b]tank.[/b]

Gren Orchid, who's terrifying power and even more horrifying weapon had put Indigo on the defensive. 

The flamethrower boy, Daniel. 

Mokuren, the creepy fox girl and her uniquely troublesome semblance.

Victor, the man who made prostetics look like an upgrade to regular limbs. 

Rayna, bedecked with her righteous chains of fury and her powerful lineage.

And as much as he already disliked the girl, Sapphire was a right terror in close combat. 

Even the tiger fanus, with his... outbursts and sheer enthusiasm.  

So why had Ozpin chosen a member of the White Fang as his- [i]their[/i] equal?

Ivan frowned. 

That sort of thinking lead down a dangerous path that could make or break his convictions in the rigorous trials of combat. If being dangerously unaware about the nature of his companions would sharpen his aim against the true horrors that lurked inside the darkness that surrounded the world, then he'd(For now) accept the horrible implications of working with a terrorist. He'd keep an eye on him, though. Sighing, he withdrew a notebook from somewhere on his person and absently began to scrawl along with the professor's lecture. His semblance intimately dealt with Dust, so he probably knew more about what actually happened in the reactions than the man leading the class did.