[h2]Maceroy Falthon[/h2]
Ugh. Blorb again. Why was it that that guy kept managing to harass the academy? Why did he even feel the need to do so? You'd think somebody would have put him away by now. And yeah, there was a good chance at least some students would take it to mean they could just ignore his classes... though it'd give him an excuse to actually take a break from his three hour non-stop work morning.

On the other hand, though, as a secret superhero with secret superpowers, he was in fact obliged to assist with the problem in some form. That was the sort of commitment he made when he started doing this gig; just going home because the villain was a pest at worst was no excuse. And besides, if he didn't show up to his lectures, what sort of teacher was he?

[i]I'll be in, at least for a bit,[/i] he texted back. [i]Might take a scenic route, though, just until Blorb's gone. Pretty sure that I don't want to get involved with his nonsense.[/i] Straight lie: he was going to get directly involved, and he was going to be disguised whilst he did it. Finding a convenient alleyway to duck into unnoticed, he stepped out of the main street to move several meters down the alley, then removed his jacket, shirt, and tie, and held on to them for a moment, just long enough to finally stretch his wings out from his back with a satisfied groan. Goodness, it was nice to stretch them out... he didn't quite notice the discomfort folding them away offered until it was gone. It was unnatural that he could do it to begin with, of course it was. But it was convenient. Maybe he ought to figure out how to remove even that discomfort, though.

He hung his removed clothing from the corner of the nearby metal wall steps as he took flight. The emergency stairs. The concept of external stairs was odd for a man who could fly, let alone stairs for the sake of escaping a burning building, but it was a necessity for regular humans. Another of the oddities of living in a human-dominated society that he'd been forced to get used to. He feared he'd never get used to the idea of not flying as often as he liked, though - there was nothing else like it, and unlike his daughter, Maceroy didn't need (or want? He hadn't quite sorted that one out yet) to make himself highly visible to do so. He could soar on his wings, let the breeze caress his bare upper body... all without being particularly obvious to anybody who might happen to look up in his direction. Perfection.

And yet, something that never lasted long enough. It wouldn't take very long to reach the college, and he was sure Blorb would be an obvious presence once he arrived. Then would come the second step of the heroics...