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Post by Xanthia on Feb 26, 2017 21:06:52 GMT -6
School of Hard Knocks
Urgh, 6am again. Xanthia still thought that this time only happened to other people... which was kind of funny based on the fact that she hadn't got up after 7am once in the last 10 and a half years. She punched her alarm clock to have it stop blaring the superbly harmonized rifts of The Trooper at her. After shutting up Dickinson, she got up, put on a sports tank top, shorts and ranger boots and went for her morning run around the Vytal Campus. Came back, jumped in a cold shower and put on her teaching clothes... which were her usual everyday attire but with a grey vest over it.
She climbed down to the classrooms's level half an hour before the class's start time and got her files in order, mainly a student list with mugshots and basic details such as preferred weapon type, semblance type, threat level and other details. And then she saw the memo from management. Xanthia had been assigned a list of students of all levels because the other groups already counted too many heads. Which meant she would need to adjust her material in a manner that would benefit and apply to all four grades of students attending the class at the same time.
Drama.
This was one of the things that she hated more than anything. Besides being interrupted and country music, her all-time most hated thing in the world was last minute changes. The stress began to set in and she, on autopilot, fished in her pocket for a messed up, half consumed dog-end that she brought to her lips and lit without a second thought. The smell of her special tea-and-mint rollup that she self-dubbed as therapeutic filled the empty amphitheater that descended to that big, center, arena-shaped stage that was now her domain.
"Come on Xan, they're just kids... you've faced man and monster without a sweat or a second thought... what are you so afraid of?"
She fondled with her weapon's handle and smiled. She had trained new recruits for a short time in Legion, this couldn't be any worse than that. You didn't have to shatter the students down to their very souls to rebuild them into a soldier from the pieces, you just had to teach them the rest of the stuff, made sure they listened, learned well and practiced enough for them to handle themselves and survive in a fight. The one challenge she faced was the fact that most probably at least a quarter of the class will be composed of angsty, demoralizing kids full of the kind of attitude no one needed. Also the bullying that was unavoidable, the couple of younger or less experienced students that will be too shy to show what they're made of and of course the 2cool4skool types. She'd been young too. She'd been a troublemaker too. And it hadn't been that long ago. She was sure she could manage to keep their attention and lay down some rules that would be respected. She smashed her fresh and minty burning stick in the palm of her hand and stuck the third of an inch she had left behind her ear. Took a big gulp of her coffee and sat on her desk as the first bell of the day rang and the big doors to the amphitheater opened. The seats began filling up and the buzz and humdrum of casual discussion quickly filled the air for the couple of free minutes the students had before the class started.
Second Bell. Curtain. Enter Stage Right. Showtime.
"Good morning students of Vytal and welcome to Combat Training. I'll be your teacher for this semester. My name is Xanthia Meidio. You may call me whatever you want as long as it stays within the theme of politeness and that part of my name is in it."
She started walking across the big stage, her voice echoing in the room built for its acoustic quality to convey the simplest speech clearly around the room. Her hands were joined being her back and her steps were composed of large strides that echoed loudly whenever the sole of her heavy steel capped boots touched the marble floor.
"I sat in this same classroom before receiving my Hunter certification. I immediately enrolled in the Legion military force for a 5 year service at the end of which I became a freelance Huntress. I just renewed my Hunting licence for a fourth year and was offered the privilege of becoming a Combat Instructor to educate you, the new generation. I faced a great many Grimms, foes and hunters, all in various situations and as you can see, came back to tell the tale."
She stopped at the center of the room and turned swiftly towards the mass of young faces.
"I will now explain to you what I expect of you, performance-wise, for this semester. You may have noticed that this class is composed of students of different years. Although not an ideal situation, it is not a problem either. On the battlefield, you will seldom be alone. You will rely on your partners for support, cover and aid. I expect of you to apply the same principle here. Your fellow students may be younger or less experienced or may not be as good as you on certain points. You will help each other out through this. You are now my little guys, you're a family, a big team and, as a team you will all succeed or as a team, you will all fail.
There will be three ironclad rules that each and everyone of you will respect. Those who break these rules will have to face me personally. And these rules, as well as all of Vytal Academy's Rules of Conduct apply on the entirety of the island.
Rule Number One: I do not train losers. And before you say anything, let me explain what makes one a loser in my eyes. A loser is one who abandons without trying. A loser is one who succeeds and mocks those that do not. A loser is the one who disrespects his fellow hunters, the rules, and laws. A loser is one who would attack a student which is alone. Many definitions for the same word. I expect you to do your best, and try for at least one more.
Rule Number Two: Some of you may have semblances that may be hazardous or may cause harm to your fellow students. Even though this is a combat training class, those who's semblances fall into this category are asked to refrain from using them at all times. You will sometimes exhaust your Aura reserves in battle. When this happens, what will make you survive is skill. If you cannot use your Semblance, you will learn Skill.
Rule Number Three: Even though you will be asked to fight real battles with your weapons in this classroom, the usage of Dust is limited to non-offensive measures outside of Dust Training. In the same aspect, firearm use is strictly prohibited outside of the shooting range. If I tell you to stop, you stop. I will not say it twice and failure to comply will earn you a personal introduction to the floor, courtesy of yours truly, and let me tell you that your relationship with this marble will be very intimate."
Silence. She relaxed and smiled a big, warm and happy grin that mothers all over the world use to appease the hearts of their troubled children. A vision that reaches down deep into the primal state of being and drops a small dose of love that dissipates the fear and stress.
"Let me add a fourth rule to that as well: Have some good, honest fun. I may be your teacher, I'm not a monster. I've been there, I've done that. I've got two daughters of my own that'll one day start their classes too. If you have any questions, fears, want to tell me something, my door will always be open. Hell, if you want a little one on one time with me on the training field once in a while simply ask! But I've talked too much already. Does anyone have any questions, comments or other but let me warn you, I can chuck a chalk with sniper precision!"
She chuckled and walked to her desk and sat on it again, taking the list of mugshots and names in a hand and her coffee mug in the other, admiring the fresh faced youths that lined the rows of seats.
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Post by Zaffre on Feb 26, 2017 23:17:42 GMT -6
 - Zaffre Duke - “The strong swim and the weak are carried away, there is no comfort in a "best effort" unless there are results”WORDS: 1051 | TAGS: Xanthia (more tags here) | NOTES: First student! Booyah! Unlike your stereotypical student that has a knack for sleeping in, Zaffre awake the moment his five thirty alarm blared trumpets at him. It was annoying to wake up the same way his father had woken him up back in Legion, but it got the job done so he couldn't really complain. Taking a brief moment to stretch the sleepiness out of his system, he quickly got himself dressed in his usual attire consisting entirely of a navy turtleneck, some dark gray pants, and some black shoes that looked much like dress shoes. After a quick set of more intensive stretches, a quick breakfast consisting mainly of fruits, and the usual morning hygiene practices, he made his way to the main hall.
Evidently, he was much too early for classes so he spent the time he had polishing up his gear. He had an unusual weapon compared to most, as it was mostly seen as a tool for defense, less so an offensive weapon. However, it would be foolish to think that just because it was primarily defensive that he was left with no option to attack. He bore a shield, the front having a number of wavy ridges that were sharpened, making any shield bash delivered by the weapon a hefty blow. Zaffre made sure to keep the weapon in good working shape, half because he didn't have much to do, and half because he could quite literally be blown sky high if something jammed up.
Regardless, this was all he could really do for a while, so he simply sat back and watched the trickle of students walking into the hall develop into a stream as the time got closer and closer to the start of the day's first class. Zaffre was interested to see what kind of teacher he was going to have, and more importantly who he was going to end up in a class with. A lot of different kinds of people with different abilities were scattered through the school, and combat class was the best place to find out which people had talent, and which ones lacked it. He was hoping to make a few quote on quote friends in the class, though in truth that kind of relationship was something he didn't want. He just wanted to find people who would be potentially useful to him later on, build a group of people he could control.
Once the bell rang, he made his way with the rest of his class into the amphitheater, noticing even before he had sat down that there weren't just seniors like himself in the class, but an array of years being represented. He couldn't help but smile to himself, surprised that the school trusted him enough to put him into a mixed year combat class. He wasn't a horrible offender when it came to the rules, but he often walked the line where he could. He took a seat around the center row off to the left a bit, a position that said pretty much nothing about him as a student. He wasn't close to the teacher as to broadcast that he was extremely interested in the class, but also not at the back as to seem completely uninterested. He also wasn't in the perfect center as to avoid drawing constant eye contact, but close enough so that he'd be able to gauge his teacher's facial expression from a front view most of the time.
Once the second bell rang, the room fell silent, the only exception being Xanthia emerging to give her opening spiel. It was nothing too new to Zaffre, having suffered through plenty of rather boring and uninspired ones in his years. He immediately shoved Xanthia into the category of relaxed-if-heeded teachers, open enough to those that showed respect and followed the rules but ready to crack down on anyone who stepped out of line. He didn't even need to hear her mention her affiliation with Legion to know that it was the case, he was quite familiar with the military setting of the kingdom. The way she carried herself, the way she spoke, everything had at least some hint of Legion in it. He already knew that he wasn't going to be too fond of her.
As she began her introduction to the class rules, he made sure to pay close attention to them. He wasn't dumb enough to just disregard them without a second thought, especially if they were being enforced by a former soldier. Luckily for him, the rules seemed pretty simple to follow, the first one being the only one he'd really need to be careful about and even then it wasn't that difficult to keep with. He scoffed as she brought up the fourth rule, doing his best to keep to action subtle as to not get profiled on the first day as a trouble spot for something so simple. However, it was a reaction to Xanthia's rule that he couldn't help but make. To him, combat wasn't something to be enjoyed as a simple pass time, it was a serious matter that could very easily be life or death in the real world. He expected a former soldier for Legion to understand that much at least, one of the few good things he saw in the lot of them.
With the speech now ending to allow for questions to be asked, Zaffre raised his hand up to signal he had one, not bothering to wait to be called on to start. "When you spoke about expectations you mentioned partners, how is that going to work? Will we be assigned people to work with, or do we choose? Further more, will partners be assigned multiple times and change depending on what is being worked on, or will the sets of partners be set in stone the moment they are first decided?" His hand slowly lowered as he posed the initial question which was then followed by the string of followup questions he had imposed. He was interested to see if he'd have multiple chances to find good candidates for his posse, or if he'd only get one shot to really make an impression. However, on the outside he just appeared to be a well meaning student curious about the class structure.
Shin of GS + Adox |
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Post by Vanessa Santaroza on Feb 27, 2017 0:58:31 GMT -6
Vanessa woke up early that day, around 5:30 AM or so. She slept a bit too early due to overwork with her books, and was paying the price for it. Now she was awake, first than most people, and didn't know exactly what to do. The temptation to just slip under her blankets and go back to sleep, and make her mind fade into the realm of dreams was enourmous, almost taking over her body like a harmful spirit. And she would've fell for it, if it wasn't her desire to learn. Especially because there was a new teacher today. That boosted her energies enough for her to free herself from the cruel prison known as her bed.
As she got up, she went towards the clock, and sighed as she took a glance at the time. It was going to take a while before the time came for her to go to the new class. And she opted to use this time to choose her clothing. Her wardrobe casted an illusion of size when one took a quick glance at it, but once you got past the ten different patterns of cat-themed pajamas, you would see that Vanessa's wardrobe had as much variety as the desert landscape. She inhaled deeply, before starting to searching for something viable to use in a combat class.
After the world's most dull choice of clothing was thrown around her bedroom, she came around a set of clothing that was unusual for her. She pulled out the set and put it on her bed, staring at it. It was mainly composed of a pair of dark leggings, purple high-tops, a stripped white-and-purple shirt which was paired with a purple hooded jacket. The hood had some bunny ears on it, and her lower half was covered a short skirt with a belt. A pair of ribbons to put on her hair were also there too. On the shirt, a small ticket read "From your lovely sister, Dathlue. I made it myself, hehe~"
She giggled, before letting the set there and wenting to take a bath. After said bath she put on the set. It was better than going around with the fashion sense of a rock, at least. She then looked at her hair, and smiled, before picking up a comb and some scrunches. After some time messing around with her hair, she managed to put it on a braid style. After it, she put on the ribbons, one on each side of her head. She then went again to look at herself in the mirror. She kinda liked the new look, and spinned around to show off for a bit. "Not bad, not bad..."As she was done with her appearance, it was time to pack her things. She first picked up her weapon, and strapped it to her waist. Next, she picked up a few of her books about Aura and put them on a bag, which she strapped on her bag. Lastly, she picked up everything she thought that was needed, like pencils and the like. After all was done, it was about 15 minutes before the class started, so she started to make her way towards it.
After some walking and yapping, she made it to the room, just as Xanthia started to make her introduction. Her figure frightned Vanessa a little, and the fact that she mentioned her military experience only reassured the fact that she would be handing harsh punishments. The whole floor thing made it even more clear for her. She now listened close to her as she handed out the rules. The first one she could agree on, since she wouldn't like to have class with people who clearly had a bad case of ego-stroking.
The second one she could also agree with, since she knew that some people in the academy had really nasty semblances, some which even made her wince when she witnessed them. And it made her feel a bit safer. The third one she could also agree with, but the fact that she had to give up on her gun made her feel a bit weaker. She pressed a button on her rapier, the pistol ejecting from it. She then put the pistol and the magazines on her bag. She then looked at Xan's smile. It remembered her of the after-matchs of the scoldings that her mom gave her in the past. It made her relax a bit.
And as Xan finished telling the class the fourth and last rule, Vanessa had a smiled on her face. She once thought that the teacher was a harsh, cold brawler, but now, she felt like she could trust her. And now she knew that she wouldn't be shoved into the ground for a simple mistake. She relaxed her back on one of the seats, waiting for the rest of the class to show up.
WORDS: 825 TAGS: XanthiaNOTES: Phew, this was tiring |
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Post by Stanislav Kovac on Feb 28, 2017 17:45:03 GMT -6
[attr="class","ohlove"] The wind is blowing Freedom soon will come
It was unorthodox for a follower of the Seven Recurring Spokes to honour any gods other than Jatai-nam with prayer and offerings. They were often acknowledged in the prayers and stories, but seeing as they were all slumbering after telling their stories, trying to ask anything of them was considered an act in futility. Still, who knows what the idle dreams of a god could do. So when he woke that morning, at four on the dot, he made sure he dedicated a half hour to prayer in front of the stone statues he had sent up from Setek a three years ago. The first was Ys-Prim, the Good Daughter, an offering of tobacco and wood splinters, and a prayer that she might lend him a little of her unending patience, kindness, and willingness to learn. Second, Un-Siver, the Conquering Un, to yield anything to him in the form of offerings would be blasphemy most foul, instead he demanded he revealed to him knowledge of the Sword Laws, so that he would better understand how to break them. And finally, Weeping Ys-Ashmal, the Wanting Ys, an offering of whiskey and sunlight, with prayers that her ambition and drive might rub off on one of her wanting sons today, and he might shatter the earth with his footsteps.
Now it was time to get dressed, which was something of an issue when your combat gear was such an old design, though at least it meant he wouldn’t have to do his hair today. It was still a lengthy affair, taking almost half an hour. First came the fur trimmed tunic, a stiff and heavy garment meant for the far north, before he tied a waist cloth to draw in the garment, keeping it from billowing in the wind, followed by a belt of gold tipped pteruges ending just above his knee. Next came a pair of rough cloth trousers, ending just shy of the calf where he began to wind the thick cloth tape into tight bindings, then slipped a pair of caligae over them. Finally, the last touches, a pair manacles and anklets on each limb, the pristine gold contrasting against the rough clothing, before he pulled a heavy golden breastplate from under the bed, and snapped it closed over his chest. Ever so carefully, he took his crown and affixed the visor to the bracket made for it, and donned it with a small amount of ceremony. Finally he tied the battered old scarf around his nose and neck, flicking the remaining fabric over his shoulder to join the other lengths of cloth that hung behind him.
Armour donned, he took the wine red sheath that held his sword and pole, before attaching the baldrick around his shoulder. Not wanting to be unprepared, his also took the carry case for his firearms, slinging them over the same shoulder. He briefly turned his mind to what he was going to read today, idly fingering the clasp of the leather pouch he had installed on his belt for such a thing, eventually deciding to bring a copy of the Pantocrator Am’s Aphorisms, easy and insightful reading for any day of the week. He also packed a blank notebook and pens, for obvious reasons. Finally, he threw a chlamys across his shoulders and fixed the clasp shut, walking around visibly heavily armed was something of a faux pas after all, and while the pommel of his sword peaked over his shoulder still, it made him somewhat less dramatic. Somewhat.
He arrived a little before the others, aiming to get a frontmost seat. He was aware it could be misconstrued as him being a sycophant, but he didn’t care much at all, being eager was nothing to be ashamed of. After all, they claimed that the new teacher was armed with experience from countless fights and battles, just image what he could glean from a few hours listening to her.
So, he took out the Aphorisms and waited for the rest of the class to filter in, until the teacher herself made the opening statements. Quickly pulling out his pen and book, he began writing down notes on each point she made. Xania, experienced, knows what she’s on about.” The notes read, “Mixed class as far as experience, go easy on the little ones, help them understand what they’re doing. Work as a team.
As she continued, he wrote a new header “Rules and Customs” adding underneath, Rule one, refrain from being a cunt. Don’t let anyone else be a cunt to their peers or the little ones. Rule two and three, do not shoot teammates in the face with a gun, also do not set them on fire. Otherwise standard rules. Remember to enjoy yourself. He was all too aware of certain students… problematic approach to sparring with one another, and you’d be hard pressed to find a senior who didn’t think himself Jatai’s gift to the world. He quietly decided he would take it upon himself to offer some extracurricular attitude adjustment to people who couldn’t act like decent human beings
Satisfied with his notes, he raised a hand when she called for questions, waiting until his turn to ask, “Not wishing to be semantic Ma’am, but aren’t the vast majority of our semblances hazardous to some degree? Do you happen to have a list of who you would like to refrain from using their semblance?”
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Post by Ciela Azurios on Feb 28, 2017 19:09:18 GMT -6
Combat class, finally. Coming from a family like hers, Ciela might as well have been living in one giant combat class. But now she was in a real class, for real Hunters, taught by another real Hunter. Well, okay that didn't make it special either since her entire goddamn family were Hunters, had been for generations. Hell, her uncle taught History here at Vytal, but that was neither here nor there. She got up early and took the time to do some maintenance on the Queen, mostly refueling it with its standard fuel mix of Red and Violet Dust. The original model used only Red Dust, but that required fireproof shorts which were harder to obtain than it might have seemed. Besides, Violet Dust in the mix gave it more propulsive power anyway. Once it was done, a few bolts needed to be tightened and a few plates needed to be shined. When she felt satisfied, she slung the pack onto her back and trotted off to class, rising to about a foot or so off the floor as she went.
She floated into class and took a brief look around. She was mostly scanning for familiar faces, and found one rather quickly in the face of Vanessa. She took off, landing in the chair next to her and grinning her big stupid grin as Xanthia started speaking. She put the Queen on the chair next to her to save a seat for Argent, knowing he'd show up eventually. He had to. There was no way they'd put a set of partners in different classes; that was just bad form. She also noticed Stan, who she'd almost sparred with a while back, and shuddered a little. The senior cut one hell of an imposing figure. He reminded her of her grandfather, for all the wrong reasons. But then Professor Xanthia started speaking again, and she snapped to, paying attention.
Her first rule sounded like common sense more than anything. Her family had never let her give up on her training, and it was part of the reason she'd been able to make it this far, into the grown-up school where the actual Hunters were made every day. The more she considered Professor Xanthia, the more she reminded her of Uncle Reg. She had that same sort of parental, defensive mama-bear feeling that Uncle Reg gave off, despite Uncle Reg having no kids of his own yet. She sometimes wondered how he'd perform as a father.
The second rule she really couldn't help but comply with, since she didn't actually have a Semblance. Or at least, her family had always told her she didn't have one, and proceeded to change the subject very quickly. Some days she felt kinda bad, since her family did have a hereditary Semblance, but those skipped generations. Maybe it had just skipped her. She never really gave it much thought.
The third rule concerned her. The Queen, and her main tactic in battle, was heavily reliant on her Dust-based fuel. She could fight on the floor just fine with her wingblade, but she was hoping to get some pointers from someone not in her family on her flying technique or her fighting style with flying involved. She raised a hand while Xan was still talking, but at least chose to wait until she finished speaking to start. Her mother had done the most to beat that particular piece of etiquette into her head.
The fourth rule was also mostly common sense. Ciela already existed in a state of semi-permanent joy, so it was actually hard for her to not have fun. But she was still really concerned about the third rule. So when the other student and Stan had finished with their questions, she stood up on her chair and held up her pack, snapping open the wings for dramatic effect.
"I use Dust-based rocket fuel in my fighting style a lot, so... could I maybe be excepted from rule three? Or maybe we could work something out?" |
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Post by Argent K. Beros on Feb 28, 2017 19:28:41 GMT -6
[attr="class","drklyric"]so burn [attr="class","drklyric3"]black heart [attr="class","drklyric2"] he found her writhing in her pain  [attr="class","drktags"]// 455 words // [attr="class","drktags"]// @taghere // [attr="class","drktags"]// theme // [attr="class","drkcred"]// made by NOVA // | [attr="class","drkbody"] The time had come. Argent rose early, as always, and began his morning workout regimen. Fifteen sets of ten crunches, ten sets of ten inverted pull-ups, four sets of one-handed pushups with each arm, and a ten kilometer jog around campus. Returning to his dorm, he set aside a few things, before heading for a quick shower to freshen up before his next real workout. Today was to be the start of combat training, and Argent relished the chance to test himself against new foes. As he finished showering, taking extra care to dry his hair and his tail, he headed back to his dorm room, and began to dress. First was his pants, freshly pressed and shaken out for the perfect comfortable fit, and his shirt, matchingly laundered, then the first of his belts. Next came his black vest, more belts, and his weapon, sheathed at his hip.
Argent searched around a bit, grabbing his gloves and slipping them on, and stepping into his boots, lacing them up before finally grabbing his coat and wrapping it around him, slipping his toned arms into the sleeves and adjusting the fit until it was just right. Finally dressed and ready, Argent grabbed a small pack, sliding it onto his belt and reaching in, pulling out a small strip of jerky and nibbling it as he walked. He was well aware of the location of the class, having studied the Academy layout before enrollment, and headed to the lecture hall for class. As Ciela wasn't in their dorm, he figured she'd gotten there ahead of him, and this fact was confirmed as he walked into the large room, the smell of minty smoke lingering near the entrance and causing him to grimace slightly, before heading down to sit aside his partner. Seeing her weapon holding a seat, he reached over from behind her and rapped lightly on her noggin, chuckling.
As soon as she moved the pack, Argent removed his weapon from his hip, holding it in front of him as he sat down. He listened intently as the instructor spoke, memorizing the rules before swearing under his breath. "Well shit, makes Vermeil useless." Continuing to listen, he noticed one student, a blue-haired young man that seemed slightly older than Argent, stand to question the teacher, and then his partner rose as the blue-haired youth finished. Argent chuckled again, before standing himself, piggy-backing on Ciela's inquiry. "I'm a bit curious 'bout that one too. You said we can't use Dust for direct offense, but how 'bout stuff like indirect usage? Stone walls for defense, or flashbangs, or crap like that? Yaknow, stuff that won't burn a poor sap, or fry his nerves." |
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Post by Xanthia on Mar 1, 2017 0:36:45 GMT -6
School of Hard Knocks
And here came the questions. She had actually spent the last evening thinking up what kind of questions or objections the teens may come up with after hearing her ŝet of in-class rules. She remembered a couple of years ago when a similar Dust-related rule had been laid down in the class and Prima had scoffed and complained that she absolutely needed her Ice Dust to fight with her ice skates and the teacher at the time merely suggested that she trade them for roller skates for the sake of safety and convenience... and to not forget her helmet! Oh how she bitched and bitched about it afterwards while they just laughed. The first question came.
"As I mentioned, Mister Duke, this whole class will be your partners."
She reached onto her desk and flourished a small bowl filled with scraps of paper.
"It may be an unimaginative classic but it works. Each of your names are written on one of these slices of paper. Each time I will request a demonstration or an exhibition, I will pick out a select number of names, form teams myself based on what I know about you all and see how it goes. That way it'll be fair to everyone. The day you'll be under attack, you won't have time to look for your friends or your preferred partners. You'll have to make do with the people around you if you wish to survive and prevail. In this class, with my help and guidance, you will learn to adapt yourself to others based on their weapon, their style and their role."
She ignored the various groans and pointed to the heavily clad young man in the front who had been taking notes as she spoke. She glanced at her student reference sheet and recognized the crown. Kinda unique and hard to forget but she had forgotten the name that came with it. It's hard to learn names from monochrome pictures.
"Well, for one, Mister Kovac, I would appreciate if you could keep the unleashing of your semblance to a minimum. Miss Hawthorne, please refrain from any use of yours and I'd kindly ask the same for yours, Miss Shelley. Mister Beros, could you keep part of yours on a leash. Mister Johanson, we'd prefer to keep damage to the infrastructure as close to zero as possible and Miss Hishiroyumi, I ask that you do your best to keep this an enjoyable experience for everyone..."
She coughed, took a sip of coffee and closed her eyes while the mentioned parties expressed their unsatisfactory comments. She held up her hand politely until silence came back to a respectable level.
"In a spirit of fairness and as to not disadvantage anybody during demonstrations, if you are to be confronted to on of your fellow students in this arena that has been forbidden the use of their semblance, you will refrain from activating yours. Even though you will be asked to bash each other upside the head, this doesn't rule out sportsmanship. Think of it as a handicap. Relish the challenge and grow stronger by overcoming it. It won't be easy that's for sure. I personally use my semblance whenever I have an occasion to do so, so I know some of you may have troubles to adapt but I'm confident that it won't be a problem."
Xanthia was now moving on the the last raised hand but was beaten to the punch by the owner of said outstretched limb who simply jumped up and almost skewered two or three other students by releasing the mechanism of her weapon. The pink-haired girl was eager, she'll have to admit, but big bad teacher would have to turn that smile outside down.
"I hate to break it to you honey, but if I grant you permission for your nifty jet-pack, I'll have to grant permission to that other student who uses Dust to throw beams of death, or this one that needs to freeze the ground to skate over it. Everyone will receive equal treatment. And besides, sweetie, what would you do if you ever happen to run out of Dust fuel when you're fighting a horde of Grimms? They won't patiently wait for you while you run back to town to purchase more. And, Mister Beros, usage of Dust that will not pose a threat of direct harm to others or this classroom will be tolerated to an extent. I will appreciate it if you would kindly refrain from using Flashbangs or anything that could impair the senses of people in here.
Now, for something practical. Let's see..."
She dipped her hand in the little bowl and fished out a couple of papers. She got up from her desk and whipped out Smile from its holster. She gave the nightstick a couple of experimental spins and stopped at the center of the staged arena. Xanthia looked at the slices of paper and smiled.
"I'd like for Vanessa, Ciela, Stanislav, Argent and Zaffre to come down here and join me with their weapons. We'll do a little something. Remember, no firearms and for the sake of this exercise, no semblance and no Dust at all. Okay, from the way you're all looking at each other I'll guess that you already know one another. I'll take Mister Kovac with me and the four of you will attack us. We will only defend for the time being. You stop when I say so and keep the questions for later."
She was sporting a large, warm smile as she assumed a defensive position.
"Whenever you're ready!"
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Post by Vanessa Santaroza on Mar 1, 2017 1:45:38 GMT -6
As the question were being answered, Vanessa started to scout the class, searching for anyone she might potentially know. Right off the bat she sees a pink flurry of hair infront of her and quickly recognizes the way over-excited voice coming from it. Ciela was right infront of her, which was a plus. At least someone she knew was with her. As she heard Xan tell her that she'll not be able to use the dust on her jet-pack, Vanessa pouts a bit. She really wanted to see Hyper-Active Harpy in action.The second person she notices is Zaffre. Or, as she'll call him in her thoughts, tentacle weirdo. Tentacle weirdo gave her a mixed message, since he had this eerie vibe around him. But hey, at least he was someone she knew. Somewhat. Okay, maybe barely, but the guy gave her creepy vibes nonetheless. So, Vanessa opted to stay more with Ciela and not with tentacle weirdo. Or Zaffre. Or the guy who helped her with aura usage. Given that he helped her, maybe she would stick around with him. Just for a bit.The third and final person she recognized amidst them was Stanislav, which she gave the cool nickname of "Over-compensating badass". He really scared her, due to his enormous weapon and size. And if he was going to be on the defensive, that was going to be a problem, since counter-attacking will not be a option. The last person was Argent, and she honestly knew nothing about him. Granted, she saw him with Ciela every now and then, but she didn't exactly get to know him. And in her opinion, he was a bit too much close to her. She was the only one who could be this close to Ciela! He must be wanting to take Ciela from her, obviously! Or that's just her imagination and the fact she can't really muster the fact that her best friend is hanging around with someone else. Or jealously, to make it short.As she heard Xan asking them to come over, she picked up her rapier and unsheathed it, showing it to her, before going close to Ciela, smiling as she spun around, trying to show her the new looks she was rocking."Hey Ciela! What do you think of it? I thought that you would like some purple, so i brought it, hehe. Also, why don't you tell me a bit more about... The guy you been hanging around with?" |
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Post by Ciela Azurios on Mar 1, 2017 2:07:48 GMT -6
Ciela visibly drooped when she was prevented from using the Queen to its full power. So she'd refilled its fuel for nothing. And then she had to try and not get angry when the professor started asking what she'd do if she ran out of fuel. She wasn't completely helpless without being able to fly... but she also was kinda hamstringed pretty damn hard without it. And besides. She didn't need anymore reminders of her height. She slid the pack back on her back and was about to slump into a dejected heap when Vanessa showed up next to her, showing off her new outfit.
"To be perfectly honest, purple is... not one of my particularly favorite colors. But it looks nice on you! Honest!" She smiled, her big goofy smile that she often used to prove she was being entirely, 100% sincere. She had to keep in mind that some people kinda get underhanded with their compliments, and say things that sound nice but actually aren't all that nice, so she liked having a little signal to let people know she wasn't trying to be backhanded. That state of perpetual joy helped sometimes.
"Also, why don't you tell me a bit more about... The guy you been hanging around with?" It took her a moment to fully comprehend that she'd been asked a second question, so her reaction was a tad delayed. Well, more than usual.
"Oh! That's Argent. He's my partner. Kind of a solitary type, but he's cool once you get to know him! And his weapon is so cool it's got like 14 different modes and it shoots bullets as big as me and it's an ax and a sword and it's just AAAAAAAAAH" She started babbling at a mile a minute the moment she started talking about his weapon. When she was clearly interested in something it very strongly showed in the way she spoke about it.
It took her another few moments to realize Professor Xan had called them down to the floor to help demonstrate. They were apparently going to fight Stan and the Professor, the four of them, and the pair weren't going to actually attack. She could already tell this was going to be... interesting. She chose to keep her wings attached to her back for the moment. She was in her tiny determined pixie mode, and wanted to prove to the professor that she didn't need her pack to fight properly. But she knew muscle memory was kind of a bitch, so she reached back and manually shut off the propulsion systems. That way even if she reflexively moved to ignite, they wouldn't spark up.
"We'll go flying later." She whispered to her pack, before slinging it back onto her back. |
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Post by Zaffre on Mar 1, 2017 10:08:26 GMT -6
- Zaffre Duke - With his answer received, Zaffre gave a nod to confirm that he understood the answer before sitting back and relaxing, listening to the rest of what was being asked, as well as the conversations around him that the other students were having. If he was going to do well in this class and in his plans, he might as well get to know a bit about those around him. He was interested to see both Stan and Vanessa in the class, the uptight warrior and aura wannabe respectively. He grinned slightly knowing those two were in his class, it certainly was going to make it a bit interesting.
He noticed that Vanessa seemed to know another person there, and that said person was also with another, so he kept note to make good impressions on the little fruitcake and the slang boy. The two seemed to be rather opposite, one having a great deal of energy while the other was more silent and reserved. He watched as Xanthia shot down the little fruitcake, seeing her deflate a bit at not getting to use her jetpack. He was a bit disappointed by the ruling himself, he was kinda interested in seeing someone fly around as a mode of combat.
When he heard Xanthia call up the names of those she wished to help demonstrate, he quickly brought his attention to the pair that seemed in some way relevant to Vanessa as they stood, deducing that little fruitcake was Ciela and Argent was slang boy. He got up from his seat dutifully, the same robotic motion that is drilled into the militant heads of any Legion born and made his way briskly up to the stage, his targe slung upon his back and buckler in its collapsed state around his wrist.
He continued to listen to the teacher as she gave her explanation of what this demonstration would be like, but he also gave some of that attention to the conversation Vanessa and Ciela were having. So, fruitcake and slang boy are partners, huh? Good to know. Unceremoniously, Zaffre removed his shield from his back, quickly disabling the grenade launcher so that he didn't accidentally break the rules. Once the teams for the exercise were set, he turned towards the other three that he was working with, regarding each of them with a blank expression.
"Alright, I have a suggestion for how we handle this," He stated, his voice calm yet sturdy as he got right to the point, "Now remember, this is just a suggestion, so we don't have to follow this if you don't want." He made sure to emphasize that point, while he felt like his plan would go over smoothly enough he didn't want to force it, gave a bad impression, "Simply, the best way to tackle this is to split into two groups of two to take on the opponents. I'd vouch that since Ciela and Argent are already partners that they would be best suited to work together as one pair, leaving Vanessa and me as the second. Further, I'd suggest that Ciela and Argent take on Stan. The dude and I have a little bad blood, so I don't want to let any personal opinion get in the way of my combat, which would leave Vanessa and me to take on Ms. Meidio." As he wrapped up his suggestion for a strategy, he gave the group a warm smile as if to convey a feeling of fellowship with his other students.
Shin of GS + Adox |
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