The time always seemed to tick away ever so slowly in this class, didn’t it? The professor’s voice has become an inaudible blur in his hearing, sounding muffled through a sheet of cotton and blended with the sighs and disgust of his peers. Sphera lightly nibbled the end of his pencil’s eraser, staring out absent mindedly to the hot day outside. The one thing he could say about his prison getup— it was quite cool.

With his cheek pressed firmly into his pale palm, all of the surrounding noise of the classroom was completely set on mute and ignored, unluckily this included the bell. Sphera’s piercing orange eyes began to let the top eyelids slide down and curtain his vision, happy to fall into his little dream world until he was poked in the back.

Sphera gave a silent jolt awake, turning his head slowly to gaze up at Jackson with parted lips. It took a moment for his lullabied brain to process the words, closing his mouth and giving a little nod in response. The quiet weapon got up from his seat and gently pushed it in against the table, glancing back at his meister. He hesitated, before almost whispering in his usually hushed raspy voice. [color=royalblue]”Are we going to the mission board again today?”[/color] The dark haired boy played with his fraying sleeve out of nervous habit. He was getting better, at least. Before he couldn’t barely look anyone in the face, but now Jackson had the honor of receiving the occasional glance of eye contact. It was a work in progress, no doubt about that.

[@Agent 47]