[b]1:35 PM[/b]
Karl Ainsworth stood in front of the mirror, inspecting himself. He wore a white shirt underneath a layer of waistcoat and sack coat. Resting on his head was a peaked flat cap, the only memoir he has of his old life- well that and the sheathed rondel dagger strapped to the back of his waist, concealed by his sack coat.

For the past two days after settling down in his dorm he has been intensely training.  In between the intense physical conditioning he did with his power active to the light drills and form practice done waiting for his power to be available again. Of course, the conditioning done in the two days would barely yield any immediate results but practicing his dagger form and their techniques did help to scrap off some of the rust he had accumulated while in prison.

Well, today would be the first time he properly left the room to go somewhere. For the past three days, he only left his room to grab his meal or to use the communal bath. In those brief escapade (Note the sarcasm), he would keep to himself. Normally Karl is a friendly enough bloke, but the death of his parents and the disappearance of his siblings weigh heavily on his mind.

Checking his attire once more, the Birmingham-born man would leave his dormitory to head for the common room. 

After a quick trip from the second to first floor, he found himself in the common room, alone. Well not exactly but he might as well be. The guy stood as still, not even acknowledging Karl’s presence. Karl could not really pinpoint his ethnicity. To Karl, the guy probably hailed from India. Though by no means common, the ex-gangster had seen men who looked like the turban-wearing man down at the factories, “Men from British India” one of his older brothers would proclaim

He spent the next 20 minutes just standing around, waiting for the meeting to begin. This forced Karl to begin to reflect on his current predicament. Something he wanted to and did avoid for the past few days. He was deep in contemplation

[color=BDB76B]“Where is Johnny and Cullen?”[/color]
[color=BDB76B]“Who killed Mom and Pops?[/color]

This was not the first time he asked himself these questions and it certainly will not be the last time he did.

Eventually,he snapped back to reality when the man suddenly began talking, noting how filled the common room is. As the man spoke, Karl’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion.  He lift his hands looking at it then at the man’s hands everthen at everybody else.