Jasmine Grace Banks: tall, toned, tough. Even if it wasn't obvious in Beacon's school uniform, it was hinted at when she rolled the sleeves up to reveal her hairy and hard forearms. This was typically the case, as the uniform grew too hot for her too often, and even in her senior year she wasn't quite used to it. She didn't care much for the dress code, made even more clear by her skirt being pulled up just a tad too high--but have you [i]seen [/i]her legs? Well of course you have, everyone has, and they're great so who can complain?  

The young woman sauntered down the hall toward her class. Her green eyes flickered about, eyeing freshmen; it was strange how much younger a few years could make them look, but it mostly their clueless and nervous behavior that made them the most noticeable. When she finally arrived at her class, she yawned, her fang-like canines visible for the moment her mouth was stretched far open in tiredness.