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Julien Touré
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It had been quite the day to say the least. As stupid as it sounds, Julien didn't expect his team-mates to be such....characters. He expected some degree of normalcy but it seems his life was now in the fast lane more than ever. Even when he was single handedly fighting crime in Paris things weren't moving this fast. That being said, he was practically forced to sign up for a college course that he'd be attending the next day so as to keep up the guise of the exchange program. While the obvious choice might have been maths or engineering being that he excelled at both the subjects, he instead chose Philosophy.

His reasoning was that he believed that it was one of the few subjects in which he could actually think without reaching a definite answer. Or some other pretentious reason he'd make up when asked. To tell the truth, he'd always been interested in the topic ever since his father practically forced the French classic [i]L'Etranger[/i] on him at the ripe age of 17. To tell even more truths, Albert Camus was a personal hero to Julien. He'd even put on one of those heavy jackets and a fedora in tribute if it wasn't so socially reprehensible. 

Nevertheless, his first day was eventful and sparked hope that at the very least the team would do [i]some[/i] good while at the same time being rather entertaining. Hell, if Nike and Rufus kept up their rivalry that would be a source of entertainment enough. The rest seemed like an alright group, if a bit of a motley crew. 

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Julien woke up with a startle. He was in no way prepared to wake up at this time. The last time he had woken up this early it was in high school and he was in no hurry to continue waking up at such an hour. He slid out of bed, taking a quick shower before doing his hair and getting dressed for the day. His usual black attire would stick out like a sore thumb, especially with the large French flag embroidered. Today he wore a rather simple outfit. A pair of jeans coupled with a pair of converse and a [i]Vampire Weekend[/i] T-shirt would do. One of those German military jacket the hipsters always wear would serve if it began to rain and he was currently wearing it hood up, as if to subliminally show how internally upset he was that he was up at such an early hour.

He moved downstairs, following the smell of food before digging in to a few pancakes. He wasn't an especially big or picky eater. Let's just say his parents were no pushovers. After he left high school he was left to fend for himself in terms of food eaten outside of home, and the student life didn't exactly leave him with a huge amount of disposable income after nights out in the dark clubs of Paris. 

He was surprised to find that they'd all be carpooling in the same shuttle together. He'd have honestly preferred to make his own way to college. Not out of disrespect or dislike for his team members, he just sort of enjoyed long bus rides with only his music to keep him company. Nevertheless, a free ride is a free ride and he was far too tired to argue.

Minutes after dropping off the majority of the group he was dropped off at the college. He breathed in, letting out a quiet sigh as he prepared to have his accent made note of a million times a day once more.