[center][h3][color=cyan]『𝕊𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣』[/color][/h3][/center]
[center][img]http://i65.tinypic.com/28hztyw.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=silver]𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥   / /   𝕃𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝔹𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℤ   / /  𝟘𝟡𝟘𝟘[/color][/center][hr]


Sander settled for a chair further from the board, contented to just fiddle with his newly acquired laptop rather than paying attention to the lessons. Half of the stuffs they were teaching seemed familiar enough, so he figured he could afford some slacking. Academic achievements had never meant much to him anyway, and he doubted it was any different with the Director. She said it herself; he was to be a combatant here. He didn’t think he would need extensive knowledge of algebra to do that. Instead of paying attention to Ms Rivera, he booted up the laptop and began to surf the web. The laptop had most of the basic programs installed already, but he figured he could get a few more. After all, this was his personal computer, or as personal as it could get here. While waiting for a download to complete, he decided to check on his old email address as well. It was one of the few last mementos he still held on to from his old life.

No new email in the inbox.

Right. Why would they send emails to a dead person? He should have known better. Silly thoughts for a silly boy. 

Closing the laptop with a barely audible click, Sander returned his eyes to the teacher, but his attention was still faraway, chasing stray trains of thoughts into nowhere. Many of his fellow students had requested weapons, amongst other things. He thought about weapons when he was still filling out the sheet as well, but figured it didn’t matter. He already got a Glock 41 sitting at the bottom of his duffel bag; he didn’t need another firearm. Even then, he was better off unarmed. Ammunitions were not available in abundance, and he knew from experience that ripping into flesh with your bare hands gave off quite a visceral sense of satisfaction. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone, or even himself. He just liked to think that he wanted to keep things simple, and that was that. 

But she wanted him to at least try. They both did. Maybe at least he should make the effort? A weapon sounded like a good point to start. 

[i]One mistake after another. When would finally he learn?[/i] 

Sander blinked dumbly, before pressing a hand to his face. Right. No weapon. It was a bad idea. Ground Zero seemed to be a better one at this point. In fact, it would be better if he skipped the afternoon training session altogether and focused his effort sating the Stigma in Ground Zero. Alone. It was especially disappointing, considering he used to go at least a week without incidents before. But what else could he do? 

[i]He only had himself to blame, really.[/i] 

He would double back to his room later, after lunch. They had already given out most of the requisitions; one day too late, but it was better than nothing. They must have leave the rest of his [i]requests[/i] back at the dorm. Those were not things you carry around in public, after all. If he were more sensible, he would have left the classroom there and then, leaving for Ground Zero as soon as he was able. But he was stubborn. Deep inside, he still had that tenaciousness that [i]she[/i] instilled. 

[i]Another mistake. Another choice he would soon regret. That was all he could do. Regret.[/i]