[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/k4LnEV8.png[/img][/center]

Without anyone else encumbering him, Rokkaku had been the first to enter the new classroom. There were a couple of seconds where he could bask in the silence, the untouched cleanliness of the room before him. Dark eyes flickered towards a few of the desks, altered to be accessible to students with mutant-type quirks, and he approved. But that was all. A breath, and he sat himself to the far end of the room, by the window. The front row seats should be reserved for those with poor eyesight. The seats closest to the doors should be reserved for those who had places they needed to go immediately, or who had bladder problems. The rest were fair game, but the back row should be left for larger students, if they did not want to be a nuisance to anyone who's view of the whiteboard they were impeding. Perhaps this classroom would be better then, if it was a sloped lecture hall instead.

Things to think about. Things to consider. He sat down quietly, priming his notebooks and utensils, and, with slitted eyes, watched who entered.

It was curious, almost, the variety of students that entered. The huge lizard was the most-eyecatching one, then the petite robot. Both had steps that made the room itself rumble; he could feel the subtle vibrations with his palm against his desk. More regular folk strode in after, their own eccentricities of coloration and hairstyle muted by those two mutants. Mutants? Hrm. Rokkaku's gaze darkened again. Settled. It hadn't been long ago that mutants were shunned by society for their innate otherness. The Luminous Baby had shown with a bright light, but a child born with too many arms, a child with the head of a spider, those had swerved such individuals into mutants. To still call them that now, whether by intention or habit...it was curious. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, yet names still held power over individuals. Was there another term to be used? Was there a better way? Racism still existed now. Xenophobia too. Heroes were defenders of society, but how much of society was worth defending?

No. Heroes [i]inspired[/i]. And not all 'heroes' did that.

He'd have to try more. As he was, he wasn't worth defending, and he couldn't inspire as well. Those eyes fell upon the robot [i]thing[/i]. Could something be considered human, when there was no flesh to speak of? Was there a difference between treating something as a [i]human[/i] and treating something as [i]sentient[/i]?

There probably was.

He didn't know what it was.

So he watched and thought, mulling over such thoughts, wondering if anyone but the quirkless could be considered human anymore. Wondering how much it mattered to him, how much it mattered to others.