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[color=red][b]|| Akira Kurusu || Day Three - Morning || Doom Train || WC: 547 || Level 1 ||
|| Batter [@Majoras End], The Heavy [@ONL], Slayer [@Lugubrious] ||[/b][/color]
[b][color=red]Experience:[/color] |||||||||| ([color=red]0[/color]/10)[/b]
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Akira smiled faintly as the attention placed on him was soon brought over to the Heavy, who went on about his past as articulately as he could. Hearing that he was from the Soviet Union made him glad that he actually paid attention during class. It was sweet to hear the big man was a mercenary to help pay for his family, but as the man went on to talk about his weapon, Sasha, he proceeded to pull out a sandwich that rivaled the Big Bang Burger itself. Akira coughed discretely into his red gloved hand to hide his stupor, muttering a quiet thanks before bringing his attention to the smallest in the group.

It was rather hard for the frizzy haired teen to understand what the little girl was saying, but he did his best, being able to catch the general gist of her background. And, to put it lightly, no one deserved to go through such a terrible experience, especially if they had to live and tell the tale. The glint in Akira's eyes dulled and softened to something akin to comforting. Placing a hand on Six's head and patting twice gently, the trickster smiling sweetly.
[color=red][b]"We'll be counting on you, Six. Don't be afraid to rely on us, alright?"[/b][/color]

Almost as if on cue, the intercom came to life with the voice from before. Apparently, they were able to fight on this train. Confusion immediately set in as even Slayer was questioning if they were able to fight. Moments later, another group of four approached them. Akira waited for The Heavy and Six to slide out of the booth before getting out of himself. He unconsciously sized up the group of four, furrowing brows as his companions familiar voices weren't ringing in his brain. The opponents little speech was nice, but it was something that Akira was never a fan of; it just wasted time in his opinion.

The trickster blinked curiously as a barrier was erected around the eight of them. He had clearly been sectioned off with the one that went by the Executor as once the countdown was completed, the Executor went straight for him. Instead of showing any worry or stress on his face, Akira smirked before bending backwards to avoid the heavy swing that was coming his way. Although he wasn't showing it, that was far too close for his own good. With his back bent in such an unorthodox manner, the frizzy haired trickster went straight into a backflip from there, doing one more before landing perfectly, now holding an obsidian colored dagger in one hand and a gun in another. Without a second of hesitation, Akira brought up the hand that was holding his gun and used his pinky finger to rip his mask off of his face. The sound of flesh tearing from one's body reverberated in the bubble, but there was no blood. Instead, a red and black being materialized behind Akira, although it was barely visible to those around Akira.
[color=red][b]"Ravish him, Arsene!"[/b][/color] He shouted as a wave of darkness shot out of Akira's blade as he sliced towards the ground under the Executor. He followed up with a gun shots at the other, hoping it would enough to at east disable his enemy.