[hr][center][h2][color=00aeef]Jonathan Walker[/color][/h2][/center][hr]

[color=00aeef]"It was nice getting to talk to you, Miss Kasuke,"[/color] Jonathan said as Mina turned to leave. He sorta understood the need to clean up, since his ribs felt like he'd been hit with a baseball bat again. Despite that, her method of departure [i]did[/i] sting a little. Perhaps the incident had touched a nerve? He wasn't entirely sure if he'd 'connected' with her at all, so there was only one thing to do really. Push onwards. And take notes, of course. But mostly push onwards.

He spoke up again before she was too far away to hear him. [color=00aeef]"I'll be waiting for you outside the cafeteria at lunch, then."[/color]

[@Silver Carrot]

[hr][center][h2][color=f26522]Brock Van de Vate[/color][/h2][/center][hr]

The kid had thrown a few more stars. These ones, however, Brock saw coming, and he was more than ready for them. Or, at least, he thought he was. His right foot came down just as the first two stars came for his eyes, and he threw his momentum into getting the hell out of the way. A quick spin threw him to the right, followed by two more stars sinking into the ground exactly where his feet would have been. All was well -- perhaps the kid had misjudged how he'd move?

[color=ed1c24][b]THUMP[/b][/color]

Or not. Brock faceplanted and went into a full scorpion when the last shuriken miraculously seemed to home in on his groin. On impact, a massive wave of nausea surged through Brock's body and he retched into the dirt, his feet still well above his head. Holy shit the grass tasted bad, what the hell kind of lawn care gear did they use here? Oh. Baked grass, right. Hot and disgusting. He was still hot. Maybe... Oh. Right. Shuriken to balls. Probably ruptured one. What the fuck, kid, you're not getting away with that one.

Since he was going down anyway, Brock released his heat in the general direction of Panda Boy and his pals in a bright, beamlike flash. They were too far to take the full blast of it, and he hadn't yet been taught to name his attacks, but they'd at least get the general idea. Finally, Brock's legs finished going over his head and slammed into the ground. He was out and, when he finally got around to getting back up, he'd have to go back to his side of the field. Or, at least, that's what the rules said.

[@Dblade26][@Zero Hex][@CondorTalon]

[hr][center][h2][color=92278f]Daler Ghumman[/color][/h2][/center][hr]

[color=92278f]"Keep watching. I think he's getting into the swing of things now, if his little chat with Mr. Sakai is anything to go by."[/color]

Daler nodded to himself as he spoke, opting to use his voice for the benefit of whoever else was around. One of the upperclassmen approached and placed some teacups and a full kettle on the golf cart as though it were a table, then the boy left as quickly as he came. Daler had forgotten about the testing event earlier, so he figured now was as good a time as ever to have tea with his students, and had given one of his older 'students' instructions to make some in exchange for relieving them of five minutes of hellish nightmares.

Being a detention counselor was good. It gave him leverage he could use to make his life marginally easier.

[color=92278f]"I'm surprised. The new ones are taking their time, probing out eachothers' defenses. It's very promising. Care for some tea, you two?"[/color]

[@13org][@CondorTalon]