[color=007FFF][center][b]Abel -=- Survival[/b][/center][/color]

So intent was Abel on finding the Survival classroom, that at first, he missed it.  When he reached the edge of campus and found only a quaint, decrepit structure that should have been condemned, he was momentarily confused, and skirted around the rustic building to see if he wasn't missing something.  Out here, the bell that marked fourth period's inception was somewhat muted due to distance, and in any case Abel was beginning to acclimate to it.  A bird, twittering furiously, shot out from a hole in the architecture as the guardian rounded a corner, causing him to jump.  He watched it go, identifying by its red breast that it was a robin before peering into the hole it had flown from out of curiosity.  Once again he was surprised, this time to find out that the rickety building was in fact occupied.  “I'll be...” he muttered, and hurried to find the entrance.

In a way, the setup of the Survival class was far more welcoming than the other, more official classrooms.  Neglected architecture, bare facilities, and ragtag supplies were the conditions that Abel and all the hunters-in-training could expect out in the field.  Having a classroom that embodied these conditions proved that the teacher certainly knew his stuff.  As Abel entered, using the Ampere like a walking stick, he spotted the professor and examined him briefly.  Rather than the usual sort of formal wear prevalent with other teachers, Mr. Vorosky was outfitted in what looked like full combat regalia, complete with camouflage and enough small pouches to carry a two-course dinner.  Sure, it was strange, but it made the guy seem real, down to earth, even.  The professor must have felt Abel's eyes on him, for he briefly addressed all the students.  Abel nodded and sat against one of the vertical pillars holding the building together.  Under normal circumstances he might have been interested in the canned food, but he had finished a hearty salad only an hour and ten minutes ago, so he declined Vorosky's offer.

-=-=-

“Believe me when I say that these don't add up,” Fullbuster insisted.  He lapped a hand against the papers laying on Ozpin's desk before reaching up to tweak his mustache.  “Sure, he did well during the initiation ceremony, but here's a difference between failing a test and being given a second chance, and cheating a test and letting the cheater get away with it.

“You don't need to tell me,” Ozpin's expression was a mixture of resignation and irritation.  So much drama in such a short time wore away at even his steely nerves.  “I hate to deny a student his dream, but an obsession with being the best is unbecoming of an individual willing to forge his own documents to achieve it.  I'll make the announcement.”

Across the school, the intercom system suddenly went online, and through the speakers reverberated the smooth voice of the headmaster.  “Indigo Kafka, please report to the principle's office.  Once again, that is Indigo Kafka.”

Ozpin pushed himself away from the speaker on his desk, switching it off.  His sigh caused the documents to stir, as if fluttering like a trapped moth to free itself.  “At least now we finally know what to do with poor Miss Russet.  I believe that Solomon is with her now; call him on his scroll and have him bring her in, please.  We'll get her schedule finalized and station her on team Silverpoint in Indigo's place.  We're going to have to change the team name, unfortunately, but at least we caught it early this time.  Perhaps Silverfish would work.”

Algernon Fullbuster nodded, leaving his mustache alone at last.  “I'll let Solomon know.  I had better get back to class.  Knowing the kids, they'll try to invoke their fifteen-minute rule.  Funny how no matter how generations I tell, there still is no such rule.  Farewell!”