[@Blu]

Lorken needn't have done anything against Kaz, simply grabbing the gun as it weakly sailed through the air in one seemingly final attempt at defiance. Exactly as the horned instructor had hoped for. The philosophy he brought the L.O.S.E.R was the idea of strength. In a fight where lives were at stake you could not afford to fear the end or despair at your own weakness, you grasped the last straws filtering through your hands and clawed victory out of the jaws of defeat.
Or you lose as a Hero.

Of course this did not mention that should you be faced with imminent death it is always wiser to retreat or regroup. Stopping a villain was, to Lorkens way of thinking, never worth throwing your life away. 
Protect those who can't. At the end of the day as long as a life is not taken the rest is just material goods.

Ignoring the bit about Gankona and the absurdity of his being Lorkens progeny, he addressed the boy. Both of them still sitting or kneeling respectively.

[color=ed1c24]"Kazuto Akechi. You are weak, untrained, and seem to only use your brain when its time to run your mouth. Despite your flaws,"[/color] his voice trails off as Lorken stares at the gun Kaz had very skillfully taken from right under his nose. [color=ed1c24]"Despite that. You do have potential and a degree of wit that some heroes in the industry are sorely lacking." [/color]

With a grunt, his free hand holding his chest where the rubber bullets had struck, Lorken returns the pistol to its proper place. Striding over to Kazuto he leans down and pats the boy on the shoulder, flashing a fierce grin at the boys stubborn posture. 
[color=ed1c24]
"Before you go, tell me something; how did it feel to care for once." [/color]

Another knowing grin spread across his face before waving the boy away. 

[color=ed1c24]"Dismissed."[/color]

--------------

[@Prewiga]

[i][color=ed1c24]Inexperience and doubt haunts your mind, doesn't it Mizumi?[/color][/i]

Lorkens mind mused on what little he had learned about the sponge girl, any scraps of knowledge he could gleam from his usual sleuthing. Mizui was not the studious type, suffering from poor grades from what he had learned, and with retired hero parents pressuring the girl to follow in their footsteps or some other such nonsense.
Trapped by the lack of choices and suffering for it.

Lorken took the punch stoically to the chest, honestly expecting it to break a rib, and winced as it likely did just that. The strike was heavy and uncoordinated given that it was thrown half-assed from a falling position but it still stung badly enough that he nearly lost his grip. 
In the back of his mind he questioned if this was the right fit for someone like her. Physically strong but lacking in many categories, and likely not even wanting to be here. The girls parents had explained what they figured was the problem to Lorken when he had come to visit..
 
His hand was firmly on her throat but not squeezing hard enough to cut off the flow of oxygen, but he was standing on top of her. Staring into her eyes with his own bright red orbs. They hungered for something, the intensity alone could burn the skin so it seemed, as Lorken examined her face for subtle little signs that she would retaliate.

[color=ed1c24]"Your body passes my requirements for enrollment but that isn't enough. Why are you here, Mizumi? Do you want to suffer the broken bones and misery that your classmates and myself will endure for the sake of someone else. Lie to me and I'll make sure you wake up and your grandparents house with bags all packed." [/color]

To put emphasis on his declaration the grip began to get tighter.

------------------------

[@Mercurial]

Deal with the threats as they happen. Smart thinking.

Lorken silently approved of Dahns willingness to allow a superior opponent into his effective range but simultaneously held off praise for that exact same reason. If the boys defenses didn't push his opponent back with any success it would be a tight squeeze to escape the rush of attacks.
The whip swung faster, aimed at the horned mans legs, but Lorken ignored it. Assuming it was just meant to inflict a bit of damage or break his forward momentum. The initial lunge of his blade went as planned.

The whip snagged his leg in the initial moments and carried his footing off center just enough to alter where his own blade went, missing the mark by inches as he instinctively readjusted his stance. 
The harpoon launched at Lorkens exposed chest.

Men and Women on the streets claim that luck was never something you put stock in. Hoping the universe would see you safely through any situation was naive and outright dangerous, it made you sloppy or complacent with failure of any kind. 
Lorkens jaw was tight enough to crush coal into diamonds as the edge of the harpoon missed by inches, punching a shallow but clean straight line across the devil mans back before cutting a hole through the back of the finely tailored suit he wore. 
Unlike the hit to his shoulder earlier Lorken had not been prepared in the slightest to come that close with what could have been a career endingly bad (fatal) strike. It was all instict after that.

Dropping his knife, Lorken was quick to cast aside his suit jacket still tangled in the boys chain, with a single well practiced motion. The clothing only got in the way at this point. Without it covering up his dress shirt and vest it also stopped concealing the hidden items he had strapped to him.

Two knives on his back hip. 
Pistol below the left arm. 
On his right hip was a small taser of some sort.

Below the vest were no doubt even more accompanying items of varying use. Truthfully there wasn't anything else for these tests, but in the field he was well prepared.

Lorken grabbed the chain before it could reel back in for another shot and pulled with all of his considerable strength, his grimace showed real pain and real anger as Dahn was forcibly dragged like a ragdoll off his feet in the sudden angry rush of movement. Up and over he went to crash down hard into a wooden two-sided ramp in the gymnasium meant as a makeshift wall. The thick wood crumbled under his weight. 
Another pull had the boy about to be launched again. This time, Lorken was only using one hand.

His other held the pistol at the ready.

------------

[@GodOfWar]

The fight had been intense. A clash of willpower versus years of practical knowledge. Lorken would have taken any bet in the house no matter how outrageous and put it on himself for a quick and easy victory within minutes. All expectations were shattered under the unbridled fury of the true ram in motion as Gankona all but put the teacher through the ringer.
With a physical enhancement quirk it was childs play the overpower the Red Devil. Most did so with one big show of force and got cocky, but Gank was relentless. Strike after strike with all of his weight put into them had Lorken in a corner so to speak. It was all he could do to keep both feet on the ground and even then it wasn't for long and never for much of an advantage.
Or an opportunity.

On the rare moments that he was given even a second to strike he took it but it felt like hitting a car at this point. 

By the time Gankona had exhausted himself of every ounce of energy in his surprisingly sturdy frame, Lorken was bloodied and bruised. A beating he could not remember getting in many years. He was just about to congratulate the true ram on a brazen but well earned acceptance when the boy opened his mouth one more time to throw a bit of mud.

[center][color=f9ad81][i]
[b]"Alright, you can go on the offense now. Do your worst."[/b] [/i][/color][/center]

All bets were off.

Lorken was on Gankona within moments. His back ached, his shoulder was bruised and likely swelling, his ears rang and his brain was rattled, and he didn't give any of those problems the time of day. 
A quick right aimed at the boys face stopped short, the left hand punching Gank hard in the exposed stomach. Air blown from his lungs and defenses momentarily dropped, Lorken grasped his head and hopped forward to bring his knee hard into the boys nose and followed up with another hard punch to the same spot.
His dress shoes kicked out hard into the boys chest like a cannon to launch Gankona across the room as Lorken snarled.

Adrenaline was pumping into every inch of the big red teacher as he all but stomped across the room to where Gank was laying, standing atop him the way one would expect of the grim reaper. No attack came to finish the boy off.

"Get some rest, Gank. Rest that mouth of yours for tomorrow." Lorkens grin, blood dripping from the sides of his mouth and nose, was the furthest thing from menacing. It was bright with joy. "I look forward to working with you in the future." 

------------------

Everytime the students left, there was sometimes a brief pause between one fight and the next. Sometimes he would redress, dust himself off, take something quickly to drink that had been laying off to the side.. Other times, like with Gankona, he reached into his vest pocket and a tiny plastic bag that rested in it.
Lorken consumed one of the tiny black pills in the bag and felt his blood turn to fire as the drug did its work, indeed burning the injury from his sore body in mere minutes. They weren't cheap but they worked perfectly for these severe training sessions where injury would otherwise cause him to be incapable of fighting further.

So when nobody was watching he took them, recovered to fighting form, and carried on. 

(Ok folks! Wrap up your fights AS YOU SEE FIT. No rules, except that you lose. Gracefully. Make it a close fight if you want. I'm looking forward to seeing what you can do! Those of you already done, hang tight till the others finish. We'll be skipping to the afternoon on my NEXT post.)