The majority of Charlie's morning was spent in the jungle. Hunting the many creatures within in the Jungle always gave him a thrill like no other. It was bloodlust, true bloodlust, like of type that many wild animals are accused of possessing. Now to understand, this was not the kind of Bloodlust that you attribute to most psychopaths, at least not exactly. This was more of a thrill of the hunt. Like of the kind in the short story written in 1924. Most Dangerous Game. It's a strange comparison, but a good one. Charlie felt the rush of hunting. The knowledge that there was something running from him. Scared of him. Truly scared. It filled him with a strange euphoria unlike most of his time at 218. Unfiltered, pure primal rush. The game was a large deer that ran almost as fast as Charlie. Almost. After chasing for a bit, he quickly killed the animal and left it's remains for the other creatures of the Jungle. And while he wanted to hunt more, the Newbies were to arrive soon. It was general tradition, at least for Charlie to show up on the docks and see the waves of Newbies enter 218, bewildered and unknowing. Of course he couldn't do it soaked in blood, so he quickly made his way back to the dorms to change.

After changing into more, shall we say, clean clothing, Charlie made his way to the docks. The boat was big as always, showing off 218's unexplainable seemingly endless supply of cash. He wasn't looking for anyone in particular. It was simply part of a small ritual for him. A habit of sorts. Afterwards he made his way to Cafeteria where most students would go around that time. He scanned the crowd for a table that might present the most amusement for today. He spotted a table with a number of well dressed people, a lizard and a number of other people, who's types would seem to clash. "This might be interesting." He muttered to himself and plopped himself down at the table, wordlessly, and began to eat.