[center][color=40E0D0][h2]Turq Beaufort[/h2][/color][/center]
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	[color=40E0D0][b]"Tch. As if I'm going to let the rabble spitting at me stop me from proving anything. You're almost sounding concerned there, Sir,"[/b][/color] Turq would say, smirking a bit at the bit of sentimentality in the old man's words. He didn't really care all that much if Caramelle didn't have a strong reason to be a huntress, or Jet having a simple one. The reason for it didn't matter so long as they were pulling their weight in Turq's eyes. If they failed or passed, that wasn't really his problem as long as he wasn't dragged down with them.

As the junkyard workers began digging through the junk at a rapid pace and the windows grew darker, two thoughts ran through his mind. Or rather, two possibilities.

They'd been here the entire time and he'd gotten a few glances at them. They seemed...ordinary enough. Maybe they were just here for the fight and were getting back to work after seeing the upstart students best their handicapped teacher.

...But then, there was option two. And option two was-

[color=40E0D0][b]"Something's giving me the distinct feeling the gong hasn't rung yet,"[/b][/color] Turq said, reaching for his weapon and letting the chain hang, once again holding the handles of his picks. [color=40E0D0][b]"This because you didn't get any good reasons?"[/b][/color] He was under the assumption this was the part where they got jumped to teach them some humility or weed out those without motivation...but Turq wasn't going to start swinging until shots were fired. After all, being smart is one thing, being paranoid was another.

And Turq was [i][b][u]very[/u][/b][/i] [s]not[/s] smart.