[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/ktlhhm5.png[/img][/center] When Brent stepped out of the gym’s shower room, warm water still streaking down his sculpted body, he had not expected to be ambushed by four faceless soldiers, rifles pointed at his naked form. Really? They were afraid of him even when his power specifically required him to actually have a weapon on him to be useful? His amethyst eyes flickered at each of those masked individuals, shooting all his ‘wow, how impressive’ towards them, before Brent ultimately shrugged. [color=B0C4DE]“Alright, so, is this like…”[/color] [color=f7976a] “Shut it, subnatural,”[/color] one of the men barked (hopefully they were all men), [color=f7976a]“Get dressed and come with us.”[/color] [color=B0C4DE]“…about all those utensils I borrowed from the cafeteria?”[/color] Only silence. One of them gestured with their gun towards his neatly folded clothes. [color=B0C4DE]“Cool. Guess it isn’t about that.”[/color] Toweling himself off, the amethyst-eyed youth did a few stretches while he was at it. Early morning training was something that was done every single day, after all, and a post-shower stretch was always rather comfortable. Behind him, the guards remained resolute in the face of this manservice. Whatever, it wasn’t his intent to begin with. Pulling up his denim pants and then pulling a long-sleeved blue shirt over his head, he vigorously dried his head further. Breakfast would have followed afterwards, but Brent wasn’t deaf. He could hear one of the soldiers begin to tap their foot. Hanging his towel around his neck, Brent said, with a smile, [color=B0C4DE]“Well now, lead the way.”[/color] His stomach grumbled a couple minutes afterwards. Unsurprisingly, none of the guards offered him a CalorieMate for his troubles. [hr] For all his lack of social grace, and for all his inability to care about much of anything, Brent hadn’t missed the change in the number of guards present. They may have slowly built up their numbers during the night, but that didn’t mean that the change wasn’t massive when one slept in the morning with no guards present and woke up to 50 of them patrolling the area. Something had definitely happened, but that ‘something’ wasn’t in the dorms. After all, if any of the subnaturals in the building had gone mad, they wouldn’t need so many guards when they could just electrocute them. So that meant that there was an exterior threat. A monstrous threat? But if guns were normally going to be effective against Dreamcatcher’s monsters, it wouldn’t have been THAT much of an issue then, right? So what was going on? Extremist anti-subnatural groups? Rogue subnaturals planning on liberating their own kind? Various thoughts and theories danced in Brent’s head, all the way until he was brought into Lecture Building Z, up the stairs, and finally, into what looked to be a…classroom? A classroom filled with all the kids he saw in the aftermath of the battle against Menagerie’s monster-goons. From Angel to Sav to Emma to Siena to emo-sick-boy to Christmas (only knew da name because he was a healer) to Sophia to holy-shit-he-knew-a-lot-of-girls-for-some-reason, Brent smiled and nodded at each of them. As far as he was aware, the Director just decided to put all the new kids into one class, except for… Huh. Aaron the Norwegian was missing. Brent blinked, and without hesitation, he revised his theory, amending it with that conversation he had caught. Aaron must have escaped, with help from people on the outside. Assistance from one of the criminal organization of subnaturals then? Made sense. That’s why the guards were there. To shoot up untagged subnaturals and all that. Unpleasant, but at the same time… [color=B0C4DE][i]Nice job, A-man. Enjoy your freedom.[/i][/color] With that, Brent turned his attention to the more immediate problem. What was his optimal seating position? There were four guards present, essentially one for every corner of the room. A large window was open to the side, no doubt bulletproof. So the only escape paths were the doors. He’d like to be aligned with them then. So either front row or back row. From the front, he can more easily catch the attention of their shrinking violet of a teacher, but from the back, he can do whatever he wants without getting into trouble as often. However, said teacher’s temperament was really rather pathetic. He’d most likely be able to do whatever he wanted to do regardless. So front row then. Closer to the window, so it’d be easier to spot an incoming threat from the outside. In the case of interior threats, that’d also mean there was at least some distance from him and the door. Perhaps he should be sitting in the second row, actually…but no. The first row was a place that commanded respect and made it obvious that he was a try-hard. The first rowers were the smart ones, and being first was winning. So it was…first row, one seat away from the window. Coincidentally right beside Emma. A problem? Brent smiled at the x-marked girl. [color=B0C4DE]“Morning Emma. Been keeping up with that cardio?”[/color] He didn’t expect a response, nor did he have time to dwell on it once introductions and explanations were to be had. Fred Francisco, April Riveria, Experimental Group B. Group A was Shane’s gang. Was their group just as large as this one, or smaller than them? Think about that later. Daisy and requests. Filled up rather fast. Looked like you could actually request pets and basic things that could just have been purchased online. He nodded slightly to himself. Something to keep in mind later. His allowance was running dry already. May be high time to start requesting clothes, if they could get that sort of stuff that quickly. His current request came up first though, and no doubt, the acquisition of weapons and protection was definitely more important than mere clothes. [color=B0C4DE]“Well, you know,”[/color] Brent grinned as he held the heavy gun in his hand, [color=B0C4DE]“All boys like their guns and their trains. But yeah, didn’t expect to get everything anyways. I can probably just develop my own sci-fi rail gun pistol thing. Just better to have a super advanced base to leap even further into the future, you know?”[/color] It was a little disappointing that his flamethrower and motorbike were noped as well, but, alas, that was just how life went. No doubt Daisy didn’t see the value in having a pyromaniac on a motorcycle, but eh. [color=B0C4DE]“So, basically…if I get motorbiking lessons, a motorbike is A OK then? Gotcha, Daisy.”[/color] He nodded, thoroughly satisfied despite all the things on the list that were rejected. [color=B0C4DE]“And yeah, sorry about a bunch of the stuff. They weren’t medieval torture instruments or snuff films, but I guess I did get super greedy there.”[/color] Did he intend on stopping with his selfishness though? Brent looked inwards, and didn’t really know, but if nothing else, Daisy provided two more names. Lawrence and Nicholas. So those were the gun people, huh? He should ask around later. And afternoon combat training as well! Ah, so many new, fresh things to think about, so many new adjustments to make to his schedule! So fricken wonderful! New chances to get new skills, as well as see how he fared against his fellow subnaturals. Actual classes so he could keep ahead of his studies. A chance to see a whole bunch of people in class and get to know them. Group projects?! That smile remained on his face. Perhaps it ate up his own time, but regardless, it was wholly likeable, this Experimental Group B thing. Unfortunately, the lowest common denominator meant that they were being taught stuff that Savannah and Sophia had to learn. Algebra? Scalars? Sentence structures? Outside of answering the occasional rhetorical question from one of the teachers, Brent kept himself busy with examining his new weapons instead. The machete wasn’t a sword by any means, but it was designed to cut through wood, which was harder than flesh. Good enough? Good enough, but he’d have to learn how to properly cut to begin with. The box of ammunition was hefty, and the Desert Eagle definitely heavier than an overclocked Nerf Gun, but that was more or less fine too. He could get used to the weight, though he didn’t have an opportunity to try shooting it at all. Not unless he wanted to get blown into smithereens, after all. The night vision goggles didn’t take too long to figure out either, and ultimately, a vest was just a vest. He would have liked something that was more ‘full bodied’, but alas, that was a request for another day. Really, it was downloading new apps on his Galaxy S10 that took most of his time, but even after that, Brent was running out of things to do. He could hardly do pushups or handstands or practice shooting or stuff in a classroom, after all, and despite his interest in staying ahead of his classes, he didn’t want to be THAT far ahead. So…what could he do? Origami, that’s what. For the remainder of his morning classes, Brent swallowed his hunger, googled origami guides, and by the time Fred Francisco popped his head in once more, there was a veritable zoo of origami animals on Brent’s desk, all made of lined paper ripped from his notebooks. A whole array that he smiled, took a picture of in order to immortalize, and then [i]viciously squashed them.[/i] Ah, how cathartic. In the end, only one origami animal survived the purge. A paper tiger that he kept on the desk, to ward off any other filthy desk-takers. He put on his vest, night-vision goggles, and gas mask, before holstering his gun and pocketing his new phone. In one hand, he held the machete. In another, he held the box of ammunition. And, with destinations in mind and lunch to be devoured, Brent ran off, looking like a tacky serial killer from a B-movie. [color=B0C4DE]“Sup Angelic!”[/color] He called out, dashing past the raven-haired rocker. [color=B0C4DE]“Heyo Zoe!”[/color] He grinned, pivoting around the fiery lifter like a running back. [color=B0C4DE]“Hi there, name’s Brent. Who’re you?”[/color] He asked, jogging in spot for all of five seconds in front of the girl with long bangs covering her eyes, before running off again. [color=B0C4DE]“Yo, Kusari! Have a great lunch!”[/color] He waved as he spotted the white-haired wall head towards the cafeteria. [color=B0C4DE]“Chilling, Alex?”[/color] He said, grinning at the mopheaded boy. [color=B0C4DE]“Good noon to you, ladies.”[/color] He saluted, rushing up the steps. Maybe he was feeling a bit chipper today after all. It was sorta annoying, not getting breakfast eaten, but now lunch would be great AND he had combat training to look forward to AND he had some real weapons on him now AND he got some nice origami shenanigans going on! In thirty seconds, he dumped all his new gear except for his loaded Desert Eagle onto his bed, before rushing out once more. [i] Lunch lunch lunch lunch lunch[/i] became the rhythm of his dash, and Brent practically slid into the gap as the cafeteria’s automatic doors opened up. A flashy flair of his ID and a wink at good ol’ Jason was all that he needed to get in, and from there… A deep breath. A show of gratitude. And then… …the feast of legends began.