[b][u]Abraham Gene[/b][/u]

Playing "I'm Gonna Be" by The Proclaimers on loop for a twelve hour boat trip was never precisely the best way to spend your time traveling, and by all means, it [i]shouldn't[/i] be. As by doing such, any kind of melody and peace found in the tune is lost in the maddening monotony that makes up the repetitiveness of the rhythm. The cruise attendants, whom were particularly afflicted by such madness, had [i]already[/i] abandoned any hope of relief or proper methodical function while on board the cruise and were collectively nearing the edge of eating their guns before the yacht had finally made way into harbor; an event which had followed subsequently in an instance of chain smoking and binge drinking. Meanwhile, Abraham, whom was the culprit of such a heinous act, was nothing if not well aware of the activities being done on board. He in particular subjugated himself to such brain-scratching insanity, finding it an excellent way to kill time. While victimizing himself and the rest of the crew wasn't the [i]ideal[/i] way to kill time, as thought of by the captain and navigators, he was at least not [i]directly[/i] harassing them - lest there be a catastrophic [i]accident[/i] that would be [i]surely[/i] out of the crew's control, resulting in the loss of their employer's son and a couple million dollar yacht. Abe had went off board into landed on the docks. It did, of course, lacked the kind of rustic charm old wooden docks had; the docks the academy had were stone, made of concrete and very likely supported by metal frame and supports that went who-knows-how-deep into the water and ground. The air was thick and humid, and further inland appeared to be a jungle. A real jungle? The leaves were green and ripe with life, with pathways cut among the thick brush beneath the base of the canopies, of which the leaves rustled with each passing ocean breeze. It was probably [i]swarming[/i] with insects. So this couldn't just be a bunch of shitty cardboard propped up to make it look like a real jungle - this was the genuine (sweaty ass) article!

Abraham was all about killing time. even when he wasn't repeating The Proclaimers. This is even shown by procrastinating his cruise until he about felt ready to leave. Arriving on time was for squares anyway. Party crashing was [i]always[/i] the way to go! Plus, he missed the atrocious line that had [i]no doubt[/i] piled up by the registration desk, leaving him not an ounce of worry in the world about having to push and shove his way through (though there was no doubt in his mind that it was a feat he can actually perform). But [i]still[/i], he had obligations he had to do. This school of ass-monkeys being one of them. Walking along the dock, he let out a heavy sigh as he felt the humidity starting to take him. He felt his legs heating up under his designer jeans - Aliasghar Hussain - and the in conjunction with the harsh sun, the mosquitoes, they graced his bare neck with the gentle caress of a cinder block. Truly, perhaps a comfortably thin v-neck with a leather jacket over it wasn't the best attire selection when the fucking island is smack dab in the center of the sun's attention. Two of the attendants came running after him with his things in tow: one handed him his warm wool pea coat, which Abraham had accepted tentatively, and the other with two of his duffel bags, just [i]barely[/i] being able to drag it along! Abe glared at them with a glance suggesting they had forgotten something. Fortunately, one of them was already on it, and after shortly disappearing onto the yacht, he came out with two guitar cases: a very large one, and a little mini one. Both were wrapped around his shoulders, and Abe lifted his duffel bags with one in each hand (with a mighty amount of ease, in comparison to the struggle the aid had displayed). No tears were shed or goodbyes shared, both parties went on their merry way. Abe didn't really care to have them along and the school discouraged anyone that wasn't a student or meta from coming. That's fine.

Would it be a fair comparison to akin the likes the sweaty, dirty outdoors to the cool air of the secure indoors? No. No it would not. In comparison, the inside was the mansion and the outdoors were the slums. Not to say that the academy was a mansion - sure, it got the size part down, but the features within it were totally lacking. There should be three hundred crystals in that chandelier, not one hundred! And the floors, what kind of marble were they using? [i]Recycled[/i] marble? Abraham could probably [i]shit[/i] finer marble! And those tables... how terribly generic! Glass tables or marble tables, at the very least! If they truly wanted to impress, they would have been aged mahogany that was carved and whittled to make gorgeous trim and a fancy emblem in the center, draped over with a cotton table cloth (silks were highly overrated and, quite frankly, aren't good table toppers). Regardless, they likely had to make accommodations for those of the lower class. After all, they couldn't make [i]them[/i] feel alienated or intimidated by large, extravagant structures. Abe sighed. Modesty had its charm though, he had to admit. Surely, he'd get used to it. He caught the eye of a young woman at a desk off to his right, at the far side of the lobby. He strolled over with gusto, with both instruments hanging from his body and two heavy duffel bags, which seemed to be slightly torn at the seams by the weight of its contents, and bulging muscles flexed as he carried them... he may or may not have been doing that [i]on purpose[/i].

"Hello sir." Said the smiling young woman at the receptionist.

Oh god, it would be worse than he thought. Why weren't the receptionists French? Like, shipped straight from France? What could be better than hearing "greetings monsieur" when you walk through the front door? It's basically a requirement! Okay, okay, this is going to be okay-- what the hell have they done with the tapestry? Surely it was apparent to the receptionist that he would have to be accustomed to this new environment, after all, this place was rather impressive and he would no doubt have to get used to such a fancy looking place, right? Abe held his tongue in front of the woman and put on his signature charming smile. "Hello ma'am."

One could have sworn the white of his teeth sparkled with the smooth suavity of his greeting.

"Can I get your name?" The receptionist asked.

"Abraham Gene - the one and only!."

"Ah, okay, I found you. You should be... in room 100. Here's your key."

"Thank you hun'." Abe cooed with a wink, sliding his key off the desk with a spare finger and into his pocket. As he entered the hallways, he dropped one of his bags for a moment before he snagged a pamphlet for him to go over once he reached his room.

The room was alright, to say the least. Decent sized bed, acceptable living conditions. Did it help that he payed a little bit of money to improve it? Maybe. It had to be a lot for so little since they want to keep the students fairly and equally housed, as though this were some sort of communism. Communism was bad for business, though this ultimately wasn't a business, was it? Surely not. Any business knows there's no money in sending meta humans to private schools, the idea of that for the sake of money is ridiculous. He dropped his two heavy duffel bags and they landed with a loud thud. His roommate was supposed to be some tool called "Mark Asslicker" or something silly like that. Surely, his room mate won't try to mess with his stuff, right? Oh god, if he does, there'll be hell to pay. These are his personal possessions, [i]after all.[/i] Abraham grabbed both of the zippers and yanked the bags open. Wrong! The bags were actually full of [i]concrete bricks![/i] A good old prank is always good to play on your attendants once in a while, he had to keep himself from laughing as they brought him his bags! Of course, with Abe's kind of athleticism and power, his strength was clearly beyond comparison, but he respected the effort and tenacity required of a normal person to bring these bags to him. Unbeknownst to them, some of his belongings were [i]already[/i] sent here approximately a month in advance! This allowed him not to worry about anything missing [i]at all![/i] 

He zipped up the bags and placed them near his dresser. He would leave them there - if his room mate is so nosy he would go through his stuff, perhaps his weak noodle-like arms and the weight of the bags would make it hard enough to instill the idea that it wasn't worth the trouble. And if he were truly persistent? The presence of bricks instead of hidden treasure would surely be another case of instant karma. Little asshole would deserve it. Speaking of his room mate, where was he? He wasn't here. He didn't want a room mate as it was, but the school insisted on it. Now that he had what was likely a roomy with snot dripping down his nose, [i]he didn't even have the consideration to even be here.[/i] How droll. On the other hand, he did hear what sounded like some sort of party as he came up here. Odd though, that there'd be a part on academy grounds on the first day. Abraham smiled. But who was he to argue? He threw off the sweaty v-neck shirt he had worn on his way in and tugged open the drawers of his dressing ('[i]No locks? What a shitty place.'[/i]) and saw a selection of his clothes already being neatly arranged in the drawer. He pulled out a long-sleeved white button-up. It was a nice shirt indeed! No stains at all. This is what he'd wear beneath a vest or dress coat. He quickly put it on and rolled the sleeves [i]just[/i] below his elbows, and buttoned it only halfway up his chest [i]'I always like myself a good party.'[/i]

It wasn't too far away either. It took a couple of right guesses on where to turn, and the sound of a crowd was already beginning to emanate from a room somewhere around. Even then, it wasn't hard to find with the ever so subtle clues given by the signs that said "Student Lounge". Clearly, that's where they'd be. And upon finding its doorway, never had he seen himself in a room with so many freaks at a time. But that's okay, right? Of course, he was probably a freak himself, but at least he [i]dressed nice.[/i] These bozos? All but a few seemed to really [i]put themselves out there[/i]. There wasn't so many people who looked to be near his status by sheer clothing alone, however. There were a couple attractive faces about, those which will no doubt be subjected by his charm. Two in particular, these two ladies standing side-by-side. They dressed peculiarly nice in contrast to the dropouts lying around. But now he had to make a name for himself, so what would be a good strategy? Obviously putting your arms around strangers was a no-go ([i]'Who would even[/i] do [i]that?'[/i]), but it was a matter of easing yourself in... and easing yourself in is [i]always[/i] the best way to pleasing a woman in [i]any[/i] situation.

"Hel[i]lo-ooo ladies![/i]" He chimed out from behind them, making a bee-line towards the pool table. "You two are lookin' pretty bored! Well, pretty [i]too[/i], don't get me wrong! But lookin' pretty [i]bored[/i] seems to be the [i]real[/i] problem here. Care to join me?"

He made no effort to hide the confidence that was present in his strut towards the pool table, taking a pool stick and looking at it closely. True, Abe never had any real passion for pool, but a guy has to learn at some point or another. Pool and darts were like golf in that way - they were rich people sports. Of course, he didn't find any rush in it, but he was still pretty good at it in his own respect. Because, like, having conversations about how well your marketing is going is only [i]so[/i] fun. You had to play pool while you were doing it, with an expensive glass of scotch in the other hand. Damn fools sacrificing a life to look nice. Clearly, if Abraham was an example - and surely he was - you can live a life [i]while[/i] looking nice. He sat the pool stick he had down to the side and pointed at it before grabbing another. "I wouldn't pick that one - head has a little split in it. Some assholes don't play right, eh?"