While everyone else was sleeping, Jack West was up. Not just in the sense of being awake and moving around, but also literally up, because he was on the roof. Every morning he would get up at four o'clock and ascend to the top of the building to train. He chose this spot for three reasons: the quiet, the views and the fact that the sun rose directly behind him, silhouetting him as he went through complicated martial-arts moves. He just loved the looks on people's faces as they went around below, looking up to see him on the roof.

Of course, nobody really had that look any more. He'd been around since the Academy's foundation, and he was pretty well-known. The new students were always fun, at least for a week or so while they were still gawping at everything, but it all settled back down too quickly for Jack's liking. He preferred things crazy and hectic. This was why his workshop was a complete mess of machine parts, technical equipment, bits of suit and various other odd things. Despite the slapdash appearance of it, he knew where everything was, and everything was arranged for optimum efficiency. Just... densely.

His morning practice consisted of three hours in total. Half an hour each of karate, jujutsu, kung-fu and Eagle Claw, then an hour of Iron Strike. That morning, he was absorbed in developing some new moves for Iron Strike, and failed to notice the time. Thankfully, he was alerted by the arriving crowds, heading back inside to shower and breakfast. The hot water ran over his muscular frame, cleaning him from the exertion of his daily training routine and readying him for the upcoming day. Quickly putting on his favourite pair of shorts, he tucked the school shirt into their waistband and headed out to the main hall. He habitually went bare-chested and barefoot. Going shoeless was an excellent way to toughen up the feet, but the lack of a shirt was more a personal thing than for any particular reason. He just worked better without one.

Breezing through the crowd, sharing the occasional fist-bump with people he knew, he waved his Jarvis watch at the screen to download his timetable. His custom chassis was almost complete; the time would soon come when the watch would be obsolete for him. It was a masterpiece if he said so himself - ultralight alloys that were still strong, systems to emulate every facet of human existence, a synthetic covering that perfectly copied the look and feel of real skin, hair and so on. All that remained was to plug in some of the internal systems, do some fine-tuning, get around to customizing his Jarvis (something he still hadn't bothered to do after two years) and upload it into the chassis.

That would be fun, especially since he'd asked Tony for his Jarvis to be given a martial-arts package. It would be nice to have someone to spar with properly.