[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/xOwoo7E.png[/img][/center] [color=gray][hr] Mark's hand rested on his chin, with his thumb and index finger shooting out to form an L shape. It was a habit subconsciously picked up from comics, and acted as an idle pose during periods of intense thought. One of the only occasions in which he displayed competence was during battle analysis, but so far he had learned nothing. He was already familiar with the Breckenridge lineage to an unhealthy degree from their many, many newspaper appearances and no one else had used magic. Just caution and words. And that sheep chimera who gave in so easily! He was frustrated from the lack of intel, but fired up beyond belief seeing that his fellow classmates obviously needed a coach like him to help them maximize their strength. The announcements and their ringing intercepted his speeding train of thought and found themselves flattened by the thought process of a stubborn dog who loves the sound of alarms. After finally loosening his muscles he stood up and followed, awkwardly attempting to lower the formality in his walk now that he saw the casual way others followed the professors. [i][color=green]"VERY WELL THEN, I WILL ADAPT."[/color][/i] As soon as his brain registered the sight of the athletic compound Mark's tail transformed into a brown blur. All of the equipment he could ever dream of was in front of him, and even a few that he couldn't dream of were scattered around as well. He fixated on the standard pieces of equipment that made frequent appearances during training montages. The bench press in the distance looked exactly like the one Unoctoman used before his big fight with against the Deadland Daemon. Mark clenched his right fist and closed his eyes as he remembered what he said to his trainee, moments before risking his life for the good of the people: "I am the Octoman and I Octo[b]can[/b]". The last stop was just as exciting. Mark's passion extended to literature, and the sight of so many books in one place was mind-blowing. His attempts at maintaining a straight and stiff posture were once again toppled by the visible excitement transmitted by his tail. Afterwards, it waned as he realized that he was unsure of who to select as a roommate. The effect of being a social person who had spent his entire life with the same group of people resulted in a strange moment of weakness. He couldn't remember a time when he ever experienced this and the whole wave of emotion felt like a child trying alcohol. Necessary bitterness? Awareness of a discomfort that would happen often later? It was interrupted by his first official friend, Berke. Berke's visible feelings of uncertainty registered in Mark's mind, and the urge to use his power-enhanced dynamic coaching system rose. While his powers only affected their target's abilities, a combination of feeling stronger and the placebo effect from Mark's speeches would beef up his target's confidence and security immensely. Not even Mark was aware that half of his powers weren't real. His own worries were quashed as soon as the need to guide another person was created. [color=green]"I WILL ACCEPT YOUR REQUEST WITH MUCH EXCITEMENT, BERKE. MAY WE GROW FROM EACHOTHER."[/color] His hand shot up to salute a fellow warrior before immediately stopping and transforming into a handshake. He would have to act "casual" from time to time and even engage in acts of "friendship" in order to create new bonds. Berke was perfect to start off with, since Mark had already created a superhero persona for him. As Mark's calloused hand extended to reach his new roommate, he fantasized about Berke the Berserk launching a vehicle at another vehicle and somehow exploding an entire city. Poor Berke.[/color]