Joseph's trip to the Institute was uneventful and unexciting. Amidst all the people that were freaking out with enthusiasm over their little adventure, Joseph just saw this as a natural first step on the road to being a mean lean fighting machine. There wasn't anything to get worked up about, it was just business. He sat there on the train with a neutral, almost sour expression until they arrived at their new pad. He got off casually and just strode up and into the courtyard. He wasn't all that interested in looking at or talking to the random strangers around him. Most of these people he would probably never see again, so he would wait until he had a more concentrated group of people to choose from before making ventures into friendship.

He took a moment to take in the motto on the gate. It was about as sappily academic as he would have expected. Sure, they all believed they were working towards some notion of progress, but he imagined they all came out repeating the same junk that got shoved down their throats. If someone could read Joseph's mind right now, they would probably think he didn't even want to be here, but he certainly did. He just didn't believe this was some place of higher purpose. Everyone was here to either learn to be a killer or to make money off their talent. They should all just embrace it. He was the last person that would actually expect them to go ahead and be honest about the whole arrangement, of course. A man could dream. A man could also sit still and wait for the damn opening ceremony already.