[color=f26522][h3]Gregory Irving[/h3][hr][hr][/color] It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but USARILN had its way to sour even a pleasant morning jog. There was a nippy autumn breeze that warred with the warmth of a decent pace, and it kept him rather comfortable as he lost himself in the run. That was until a faint series of beeps caught his attention. [color=f7976a]“Return to Building B.”[/color] Short and clipped, the cuff continued to beep as Gregory stared down at it for a few moments. [color=f26522]“Well, fuck,”[/color] he muttered rather appropriately as he swore the beeping’s pace increased at the lack of any compliant movements from him. The prospect of a shock was more than enough for him to hurry back to the dormitory at a quicker pace than he originally intended to.

Initially the escorts hadn’t warranted much thought, but the reactions they got eventually made Gregory think otherwise. If this were really that common then why all the curious looks? That aside, the classroom they were all herded into was, if nothing else, sizable he supposed. Picking out one of the seats off to the side and by the windows, he quickly slid himself in and tuned out the surrounding world. With middling success since it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two before a familiar voice called out his name and his head rose slowly to look around.

[color=f26522]“Oh, hi Rosa.”[/color] He raised a hand towards the woman, past the guard, before he looked down to examine the packages dropped off by the guard. He left the projectiles alone aside from a quick one-over, but actually took the Fender out to get a feel for it. It felt nice in his hands, and he figured it ought to for the price tag; it was probably, what, two or three times the price of his own bass? Looking up when Rosa held something out for him to take, his eyebrows climbed a bit before he took the picks with a sigh. [color=f26522]“Thanks. I think…”[/color]

Once the bass was stored away, he paid the staff a bit more attention as they went through with their spiel. Nothing particularly fascinating, at least not until the afternoon to see what the hell combat training was all about. The classes passed by quickly enough, and he paid the modicum of attention that the teachers’ efforts seemed to warrant. Not nearly enough to keep his thoughts from wandering though, and he resorted to his smartphone more than a few times in the few hours before lunch.

When they were finally dismissed to get some food, Greg’s first destination was the dormitory. As fun as lugging around more than a dozen kilograms of gifts was, it’s not like any of the three were particularly easy to carry around. As mentioned his room had been packed with a few other pieces and there was a slip of paper that noted which bike was his and what the lock combination was. It was hard not to feel a bit mollified by the “gifts” given, and he collapsed back into his bed with a heavy sigh. 

Still… with less than an hour for lunch and a fair chunk of it already gone, he hurried back onto his feet and figured it might as well be a good time to put the bike to use. A few minutes saved here and there could add up after all.