Mcmolly

~Gakuen Kill: Academy of Assassins~

Out of the frying pan and into the fire it seemed. Up above the whirring sound accompanied by the panicked shouts of students was enough tot tell that something was going wrong. At the very least he was out of it, but he still said a silent prayer for the safety of the others. If the director really was willing to off some of them, then that only made the ones alive even more valuable.

Speaking of, the chiming voice of another echoed down the hall. Mashuka turned around to see the kendo-wielding girl approach, wearing a grin that left him feeling like he wasn't supposed to share her glee. Sure enough she made it quite clear that she was not looking for the dorms, nor a roommate. Perhaps this was more in-line with what he expected at the academy, but he had certainly not expected it on day one, in the hallway leading to the dorms.

"Well, guess this is better a bomb," he said, offering a nervous smile. "After you then."

He left the knife back in its sheath, there'd be no reason to draw blood. Attempting to kill fellow students and staff didn't strike him as a very good way to introduce himself to the school, so if the encounter gained him a few bruises he'd at least be happy all parties had lived. Instead he stepped into a ready stance as he'd been taught to do, open palms held before him.

The girl looked strong, and he figured she knew how to handle the wooden blade well. If he was lucky he could disarm her, but something told him he'd spend most of the encounter on the defensive. He could practically feel the ache in his arms already, it was going to be a long afternoon.

~Gakuen Kill: Academy of Assassins~

Oh thank god, was afraid Shuka was about to get caught in a 2v1 <D

~Gakuen Kill: Academy of Assassins~

Ah, well I have about no engineering experience xD If it's an issue though, I've got no problems going back to change it.

~Gakuen Kill: Academy of Assassins~

It had taken some time, about four minutes to be exact, but with the aid of a few now-interested students they'd managed to stack the chairs high enough to reach a vent in the ceiling. Though a glance to the side showed him that he wasn't the only one with such an idea, and after watching a red-headed girl ascend in a marvelous display of vines, he didn't feel as bad about taking the grate off.

"Alright, up this way," he said, climbing in. Roughly half a dozen students followed, but he hoped more would see the chair stack and open vent, then make the connection themselves.

The vents were dark and dusty, but tight spaces didn't bother him nearly as much as the possible explosion did. There were plenty of twists and turns, and none seemed any more viable of an option than the other. What was worse, none of the ones who had followed seemed to have any clues either. He supposed that was one advantage the upper years would have on the freshmen, knowing the school's layout seemed no less than crucial, especially if they were to expect events like this.

Something not too far off caught his eye, and as he crawled closer he saw that there were smudges in the dust, like tracks. Someone had come through here, perhaps the vine girl, perhaps some other student. Whatever the case, the trail led away from the auditorium, which was a better lead than anything else he could find.

They traveled on, each moment passed a reminder that their time was running out. At last he heard commotion below, far less than a crowd. The tracks were gone, but a few grates offered a good view of a hallway beneath them. Even if it wasn't the dorms, at least it was closer than the auditorium was. Mashuka took hold of the grate beneath him, and though it took a few good shakes, he managed to push it off. Or rather, push through it. His arms broke through the frail metal, and though the cover fell, he found himself toppling

"Holy-" he managed to turn as he fell, landing in a crouch before falling back on his rear. "Shit."

He pried the grate off of his arms with a foot, then moved to let the rest of the students who had followed drop, albeit with a bit more grace. When that was done they dispersed without a word, and when Mashuka got to his feet he saw that they were indeed by the dorms. Well, that had gone a bit better than expected, though he hoped he wouldn't get in too much trouble for busting the grate.

~Gakuen Kill: Academy of Assassins~

Mashuka was fascinated, though it wasn't all the director's speech. The entire auditorium, the whole castle even, was leagues beyond anything he'd expected. Two years in England hadn't raised his threshold of modern understanding much, given that he spent most of that time in the slums. He wasn't a neanderthal by any means, but a majority spent behind walls living in sand and dirt had his vision a bit narrowed beyond rifles and radios. And the knife of course. Firmly secured in its sheath at the base of his back it rested, and as was the old law with such blades, it would remain there unless it needed to be either cleaned, or...dirtied.

That wasn't to say the director wasn't inspiring, she was certainly a good speaker whether she believed in the words or not. He enjoyed that in people, a little energy, a little conviction, a little life. Besides, it wasn't like she'd be doing any of this if she didn't care, and by the end of it he thought the applause was well-earned. Evidently others thought so as well, standing ovations and happy faces abound told that he wasn't the only one excited to start a life here. Or rather, an education for a life.

As he got up to leave, intent to find his room and roommate, a heavy rumble took away the attention. Director Momoko it seemed was not finished, and as the massive timer began to count down his gut twisted up. Perhaps it was more than simply rifles and radios, because he knew enough to be wary of timers. He'd seen and heard distant explosions before, but he wasn't in any rush to see them up close, and if the auditorium was going up in flames then he wasn't going to be anywhere near it.

Mashuka looked around at the sea of chaos and panicked students, trying to see the forest through the trees. There'd be no use scrambling for the doors, if they weren't locked by now then they'd be too crowded to get anywhere near. Trying to open the teacher's escape hatches likely wouldn't go over well, but if they couldn't go down...

Worth a shot. "Excuse me, pardon, need this," he said, snaking through the crowd and gathering a few chairs in his wake. He found a wall free of most commotion and began to stack the seats he'd snagged, then grabbed a few more. Getting to the ceiling wouldn't be too difficult, a little boost would get him up without too many chairs. However he had a slight advantage that many others might not have access to, and if they couldn't find their own way out he had no issues sharing his. But if he was going to do that, the pile would need a good enough foundation to support the other students, and that meant more chairs.

~Gakuen Kill: Academy of Assassins~

So are things like roommates already planned out?

~Gakuen Kill: Academy of Assassins~

Name: Mashuka “Shuka” Shamal

Nickname: Dust

Age: 16

School Year: First

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Appearance

Mashuka is of average height and sub-average weight. An upbringing devoid of proper nutrition has left him with a thin body that years of exercise have managed to turn into a lean-muscled form. He commonly wears long sleeves and long pants, tied tight at the wrists and ankles respectively. A hood or face-mask isn't uncommon, as during his drifting days the white-hair would tend to garner unwanted attention

Nationality: Afghani

Personality: Mashuka is quiet but friendly, with a curious though cautious outlook on life. He loves stories, particularly stories of people's lives, and if he had to kill someone he'd prefer to know all there is to know about who they are first. His loyalty could be brought into question, but he's good at keeping secrets, though his moral compass shares a seat with his instinct to survive.

He tends to avoid talking about himself, even going so far as to intentionally steer conversations away from the subject of his childhood and family. That being said, he isn't ashamed of who he is, and has a soft spot in his heart for the oppressed or mistreated.

Bio: Before Mashuka’s mother was a victim of the mass murders of the Pul-e-Charkhi prison in Afghanistan, her family had been nomads following the winds. Though years and years ago they were proud and loved showmen, the modern age had turned them to meager beggars and thieves. Her husband had been caught stealing, and as was the law, he and the family as a whole were locked away. Towards the end of her pregnancy, as the brutal murders began to increase, she would whisper to her unborn child. “Mashuka”, she would say, “If I cannot look after you in this world, then the very wind shall guide your way.”
And every day she would say this, and every night she would bask in the air and ask for the sky’s blessing. The other inmates thought her mad, but the doctor looking over her pregnancy was charmed by the lullaby-like rituals.
The day eventually came when she gave birth to him, the word “Mashuka” spilling from her lips before she fell unconscious. In her sorry state, she was quickly dispatched and became one of the thousands in the graves outside of the prison.
It was the doctor who raised him, though the boy was forced to remain within Pul-e-Charkhi’s walls. The other families cared for him, but at the end of the day he would always return to the doctor who had spent much time with his mother. He taught Mashuka English, taught him much of the academia he would have otherwise missed inside the prison, and did his best to steer the boy right so that when he turned sixteen, and would be released, the world would not seem like such a scary place.
But sadly he could not watch over Mashuka all day, and while he was away the boy suffered as all the prisoners did. He was roped into their schemes, taught how to survive and how to fight. But it was not until he was fourteen that his “talent” surfaced.
Though the massacres had stopped, conditions within the prison were still horrific. Inmates suffered beatings and poor living conditions without an end in sight, so it was no surprise when a riot finally broke out. Chaos tore the prison apart, the inmates scrambled to escape and the guards fired without discretion. Mashuka ran, and he did so with the speed of the wind itself. Moving in swift blurs and dashes, he collided with and ultimately killed a soldier blocking his exit. Without time to be shaken, he grabbed the man’s kukri knife and was whisked away with the breeze.
After managing to hide away for two years and escape to England, he found out about and shortly thereafter applied to the Riddle Academy.

Weapon: A simple kukri blade in a leather sheath with silver framing.

Equipment: Nothing not provided by or found at the school.

Skills: Quick and agile, well versed in Krav Maga and not too shabby with the kukri after growing up around soldiers, Mashuka can fight and run, but his other skills lack as a result of his upbringing.

Abilities:

-Breath-: Mashuka can channel his family’s long-standing affinity with the wind to enhance his mobility. Though not offensive, it does allow him to cover short-to-medium distances in incredible time and jump to extended heights. However this ability can be used only in bursts, and not rapidly, needing minutes or more to be used once again. This is not a matter of tiring him out, but rather he simply cannot access it during this time.

~Gakuen Kill: Academy of Assassins~

Reposting here for organization's sake.

Mashuka CS

Name: Mashuka “Shuka” Shamal

Nickname: Dust

Age: 16

School Year: First

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Appearance

Mashuka is of average height and sub-average weight. An upbringing devoid of proper nutrition has left him with a thin body that years of exercise have managed to turn into a lean-muscled form. He commonly wears long sleeves and long pants, tied tight at the wrists and ankles respectively. A hood or face-mask isn't uncommon, as during his drifting days the white-hair would tend to garner unwanted attention

Nationality: Afghani

Personality: Mashuka is quiet but friendly, with a curious outlook on life. He loves stories, particularly stories of people's lives, and if he had to kill someone he'd prefer to know all there is to know about who they are first. His loyalty could be brought into question, but he's good at keeping secrets, though his moral compass shares a seat with his instinct to survive.

He tends to avoid talking about himself, even going so far as to intentionally steer conversations away from the subject of his childhood and family. That being said, he isn't ashamed of who he is, and has a soft spot in his heart for the oppressed or mistreated.

Bio: Before Mashuka’s mother was a victim of the mass murders of the Pul-e-Charkhi prison in Afghanistan, her family had been nomads following the winds. Though years and years ago they were proud and loved showmen, the modern age had turned them to meager beggars and thieves. Her husband had been caught stealing, and as was the law, he and the family as a whole were locked away. Towards the end of her pregnancy, as the brutal murders began to increase, she would whisper to her unborn child. “Mashuka”, she would say, “If I cannot look after you in this world, then the very wind shall guide your way.”
And every day she would say this, and every night she would bask in the air and ask for the sky’s blessing. The other inmates thought her mad, but the doctor looking over her pregnancy was charmed by the lullaby-like rituals.
The day eventually came when she gave birth to him, the word “Mashuka” spilling from her lips before she fell unconscious. In her sorry state, she was quickly dispatched and became one of the thousands in the graves outside of the prison.
It was the doctor who raised him, though the boy was forced to remain within Pul-e-Charkhi’s walls. The other families cared for him, but at the end of the day he would always return to the doctor who had spent much time with his mother. He taught Mashuka English, taught him much of the academia he would have otherwise missed inside the prison, and did his best to steer the boy right so that when he turned sixteen, and would be released, the world would not seem like such a scary place.
But sadly he could not watch over Mashuka all day, and while he was away the boy suffered as all the prisoners did. He was roped into their schemes, taught how to survive and how to fight. But it was not until he was fourteen that his “talent” surfaced.
Though the massacres had stopped, conditions within the prison were still horrific. Inmates suffered beatings and poor living conditions without an end in sight, so it was no surprise when a riot finally broke out. Chaos tore the prison apart, the inmates scrambled to escape and the guards fired without discretion. Mashuka ran, and he did so with the speed of the wind itself. Moving in swift blurs and dashes, he collided with and ultimately killed a soldier blocking his exit. Without time to be shaken, he grabbed the man’s kukri knife and was whisked away with the breeze.
After managing to hide away for two years and escape to England, he found out about and shortly thereafter applied to the Riddle Academy.

Weapon: A simple kukri blade in a leather sheath with silver framing.

Equipment: Nothing not provided by or found at the school.

Skills: Quick and agile, well versed in Krav Maga and not too shabby with the kukri after growing up around soldiers, Mashuka can fight and run, but his other skills lack as a result of his upbringing.

Abilities:

-Breath-: Mashuka can channel his family’s long-standing affinity with the wind to enhance his mobility. Though not offensive, it does allow him to cover short-to-medium distances in incredible time and jump to extended heights. However this ability can be used only in bursts, and not rapidly, needing minutes or more to be used once again. This is not a matter of tiring him out, but rather he simply cannot access it during this time.

Other:

~Gakuen Kill: Academy of Assassins~

Got a CS draft for you to look over! Hope I'm not too late for the "abilities" slot, if so I can edit that out ^^

Mashuka CS

Name: Mashuka “Shuka” Shamal

Nickname: Dust

Age: 16

School Year: First

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Appearance

Nationality: Afghani

Personality: Mashuka is quiet but friendly, with a curious outlook on life. He loves stories, particularly stories of people's lives, and if he had to kill someone he'd prefer to know all there is to know about who they are first. His loyalty could be brought into question, but he's good at keeping secrets, though his moral compass shares a seat with his instinct to survive.

He tends to avoid talking about himself, even going so far as to intentionally steer conversations away from the subject of his childhood and family. That being said, he isn't ashamed of who he is, and has a soft spot in his heart for the oppressed or mistreated.

Bio: Before Mashuka’s mother was a victim of the mass murders of the Pul-e-Charkhi prison in Afghanistan, her family had been nomads following the winds. Though years and years ago they were proud and loved showmen, the modern age had turned them to meager beggars and thieves. Her husband had been caught stealing, and as was the law, he and the family as a whole were locked away. Towards the end of her pregnancy, as the brutal murders began to increase, she would whisper to her unborn child. “Mashuka”, she would say, “If I cannot look after you in this world, then the very wind shall guide your way.”
And every day she would say this, and every night she would bask in the air and ask for the sky’s blessing. The other inmates thought her mad, but the doctor looking over her pregnancy was charmed by the lullaby-like rituals.
The day eventually came when she gave birth to him, the word “Mashuka” spilling from her lips before she fell unconscious. In her sorry state, she was quickly dispatched and became one of the thousands in the graves outside of the prison.
It was the doctor who raised him, though the boy was forced to remain within Pul-e-Charkhi’s walls. The other families cared for him, but at the end of the day he would always return to the doctor who had spent much time with his mother. He taught Mashuka English, taught him much of the academia he would have otherwise missed inside the prison, and did his best to steer the boy right so that when he turned sixteen, and would be released, the world would not seem like such a scary place.
But sadly he could not watch over Mashuka all day, and while he was away the boy suffered as all the prisoners did. He was roped into their schemes, taught how to survive and how to fight. But it was not until he was fourteen that his “talent” surfaced.
Though the massacres had stopped, conditions within the prison were still horrific. Inmates suffered beatings and poor living conditions without an end in sight, so it was no surprise when a riot finally broke out. Chaos tore the prison apart, the inmates scrambled to escape and the guards fired without discretion. Mashuka ran, and he did so with the speed of the wind itself. Moving in swift blurs and dashes, he collided with and ultimately killed a soldier blocking his exit. Without time to be shaken, he grabbed the man’s kukri knife and was whisked away with the breeze.
After managing to hide away for two years and escape to England, he found out about and shortly thereafter applied to the Riddle Academy.

Weapon: A simple kukri blade in a leather sheath with silver framing.

Equipment: Nothing not provided by or found at the school.

Skills: Quick and agile, well versed in Krav Maga and not too shabby with the kukri after growing up around soldiers, Mashuka can fight and run, but his other skills lack as a result of his upbringing.

Abilities:

-Breath-: Mashuka can channel his family’s long-standing affinity with the wind to enhance his mobility. Though not offensive, it does allow him to cover short-to-medium distances in incredible time and jump to extended heights. However this ability can be used only in bursts, and not rapidly, needing minutes or more to be used once again. This is not a matter of tiring him out, but rather he simply cannot access it during this time.

Other:

~Gakuen Kill: Academy of Assassins~

Also interested! Can have a CS sheet up in a bit.