[u][h1]Team FRSK:Bunker[/h1][/u]
[color=Ivory]"Rio, I understand the impulse,"[/color] Nivea places a hand gingerly on the boy's shoulder, urging him away from the tunnel. [color=Ivory]"But don't underestimate the tricks and deceptions of the creatures of Grimm. This is a task for much more experienced Huntsmen, and I'm sorry for bringing you into this place. If I had known. . ." [/color]

The Huntress lets the words hang in the air, breathing a silent sigh of relief that the others hadn't tried to follow the headstrong boy. However, before she could speak again, the halls of the bunker suddenly became flooded with blinding white. Eyes adjusted to softly illuminated gloom became overwhelmed by the sudden snap to artificial light, the droning hum of the electrical overhead filling the silence with an ominous buzz. As sight returns, the veteran Huntress notes something in the distance. Humanoid shapes rising slowly and silently from the black liquid that drenches them. But they were not Grimm. . . at least, not in body. They may have moved in jerking, unnatural ways, may have born deep pits of darkness in the sockets of their heads, but the bodies that slunk towards the group had been human once. The very sight set her blood cold in her veins, the fate of this Bunker's residents dawning as she curses under her breath.

[color=Ivory]"We're being watched. . . Rio, take point and lead the others out of here."[/color] Once kind eyes hardening to cold steel as she stares at her wards, tone emphasizing what she didn’t have time to explain. [color=Ivory]"I'll handle things here, but you all need to leave. N-Duck!"[/color]

With a surprising amount of strength, Nivea yanks Rio to the side as a black tendril by his head, embedding itself into the concrete. In a single movement, the huntress tosses the boy to his peers and severs the thing with a flash of green light and a blade of wind. A shriek howls from the darkness of the tunnel, silencing the cries they had been hearing this whole time as a deep growl resonates through the hall. The animate corpses in the hall chose now to leap forward towards her, inhuman screeches tearing from their throats as the Grimm puppeteering their bodies urge them forth. Scurrying could be heard from the tunnel as well as it seemed some level of reinforcements were crawling their way up from deep within.

[hr]
[h1][u]Team TVSC:Scrapyard[/u][/h1]
Auron lets a moment of silence go by after Slate gives his reply, golden eyes scanning over each student in turn before he finally decides to speak up.

[color=goldenrod]“[i]Does it even matter?[/i]”[/color] The Huntsman mutters the words more than he repeats them, saying them more for his own sake before focusing his attention back to the students. With his cigarette held between his fingers, the man makes a gesture to the scrapyard around them. [color=goldenrod]“I’d say that for the men, women, and children who go out every day confident that we Huntsmen do our jobs, it matters quite a bit why we’re doing it."[/color]

[color=goldenrod]“To the people who are going to be watching your back and expecting the same in return as you deal with the bloodthirsty creatures of the wastes out there, be they Grimm, normal beasties, or bandit scum, it matters.”[/color] The light of his cigarette glows long and bright as he takes another slow drag of it, smoke rolling out of his mouth like a river as he locks his gaze with them all. [color=goldenrod]“Serving as the rule of law is a heavy responsibility, not to mention that you all probably know family members who speak Shade Academy’s name with disgust and derision. You will risk life and limb for people who may very well spit on you as soon as speak to you. Literally, in some places.” [/color]

Auron’s eyes linger on Caroline as he speaks for just a moment longer than the others, a slight flash of some emotion crossing his features. Whether it was a look of concern, fear, . . . or even anger, it vanishes too quickly beneath the stern mask the old Huntsman put on to properly gauge.

[color=goldenrod]“To put a pin on the whole thing, make sure this is the kind of life you want before you commit to it. It’s not easy and it can be pretty thankless at times.”[/color] With another drag of his cigarette, the man rises up from his seat on the ‘cycle, his eyes drifting up to the horizon. Anyone following his gaze would see what looked like vultures circling way up high in the Vacuan sky. [color=goldenrod]“ But you all have a few years before you’re locked into this life, so don’t feel pressured to decide right away. I’ve just taught a bunch of kids in my time as a Huntsman. . . and I think a fair few of them would have been much happier doing something else.” [/color]

Once more, Auron seems to be lost in some haze of nostalgia as he kept his gaze skyward. As he stares into the distance, however, something odd occurs.

Several of the junkyard workers seem to be messing around with several trash piles around the edges of the makeshift arena, not really taking anything away as much as just digging through it like they were looking for something. Not only that, but the building where Auron had sent the one worker after their test seemed to have its windows tinted black. While such a feature was not uncommon, none of them would remember the windows being tinted that darkly beforehand.