[center]
[img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/a18f51f22b5f2b85634b05ff08a0a0a0/tumblr_n03l7vmXTU1rl71uuo2_500.gif[/img]
[h1][color=ed1c24]Johnny Van Ronk[/color][/h1]
[hr]
[/center]

Johnny lifted a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit it after raising it to his mouth. A breath of smoke left the side of his mouth as he looked over his team and scratched his forehead with his thumb. A flurry of nicknames came his way, captain firstly and the expected cowboy soon after. He'd of preferred [i]general[/i], had a nice ring to it. But beggars can't be choosers, unless you're one of those twats who introduces himself by a nickname no one calls him.

[color=ed1c24]"Right."[/color] He spoke, rising from his chair and fixing his jacket. He checked his watch, not bothering to look up as he spoke. [color=ed1c24]"I've got a man with a van who should be just outside now if you'll follow me."[/color] He moved around the group and traced his footsteps throughout the school until he reached the gates.

What stood at the gates was a sight to be seen. A rustic red van with bits of paint peeling off seemingly everywhere sat sputtering away at the side of the road. In the front sat probably the most stereotypical stoner you could see outside of a [i]Kevin Smith[/i] film. A gaunt face made fuller by a large shaggy beard and matching hair sat upon the face of the man nicknamed 'Taco'. And yes, this was one of those twats who introduces himself by a nickname that no one calls him.

A nod was all it took for Taco to snap out of his daydream and put the van into drive after the gang had piled on into the rather [i]strange[/i] smelling van. Luckily enough the ride didn't take too long, and soon enough they had arrived at a large warehouse. Johnny turned to the group as the van bumbled away, swerving to the right ever so slightly as Taco attempted to drive with one hand.
[color=ed1c24]"Before we start,I'd appreciate if you didn't tell, Latour about the guy driving the van."[/color] A solitary statement made before Johnny made his way into the warehouse. 

The warehouse was near empty, with a few turned over tables and work benches scattered around the edges of the room. Light peered inwards through large windows near the top of the warehouse, and a few lights flickered on after Johnny flipped a switch as he entered. Near the centre of the room sat four small, Ikea tables, upon which sat four [url=http://womensvoicesforchange.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/562f0bd2b8ef0bfaddda7de36e447f92.jpg]'Gordian Knots'[/url]. 
[color=ed1c24]"Alright first task, something a little low key."[/color] He moved around to face the group on the other side of the tables. [color=ed1c24]"These are known as Gordian knots, they were made by a mutant who has arguably the worst power I have ever seen"[/color] He said, recalling the time he met a mutant whose power was to grow and shrink himself, but only by an inch. [color=ed1c24]"They are supposedly impossible to untie, if any of you can find a way of untying them then consider that a brownie point."[/color] He flicked his cigarette stub to the side before continuing. [color=ed1c24]"Your use of powers is optional, after all Alexander the Great solved this problem and there's no conclusive evidence to show he was a mutant."[/color] He said, an attempt at a joke.