Trad slowly raised his hand. He wasn’t exactly itching to fight a Grimm, but wanted the class to know he was willing. He was confident whatever was in that cage could be killed with relative ease… Right? Unless this was a trick! The professor just stated how he didn’t feel the students held resourcefulness and knowledge very high, what better way to show them their errors then by making an example of one? There could be a Grimm that none of them would be prepared for. Whoever went up would find themselves helpless to fight back and proving professor Port’s point. “Stop! You’re over thinking this.” He finally shook away the doubting thoughts. Even if this was just a way to prove their lack of ability, wouldn’t that just spark ones desire to improve more? No matter if he was picked or not, Trad felt he was ready for anything.

When Sangue heard that the funny-looking professor of the class would tell everyone a story, she expected a decent story. And, to her ears, it was a decent story. For Sangue lived with little to no tolerance on listening to others’ tales, regardless of how idle and passive they were. They were her form of entertainment by default. She glanced at Ben, then at Trad. Her two teammates seemed… excited to raise their hands. To imitate them, she attempted to raise her hand, only to hear the familiar sound of chains quietly clattering against each other. Sangue turned to her right arm, suddenly remembering that she had a metallic link of chains instead of flesh. Blinking with her blank expression still on, she turned away from the claw “arm” and proceeded to raise her other hand. She actually did not understand what was going on due to the fact that she finally dozed off when Professor Port daringly asked the students if they were willing to face a Grimm. Needless to say, she had no reason to fear about fighting anything without weapons, regardless of whether she knew what was going on or not. “…” Sangue remained silent.

Armory Class Ivan barely managed a grunt as Indigo asked his question, apparently wrapped in both self-pity and the cleaning of his absolutely massive handgun. Instead, he vaguely gestured to where he'd disconnected the actual weapon from the gauntlet. Surfacing momentarily as the professor came in, he lowered his voice and gave the answer. "Maintenance, mostly. My power is stressful on the barrel, and I have to check constantly for warping from the focused heat. It's rare, given the type of metal I used to create Leviathan, but I've seen it happen before." Seemingly satisfied with that explanation, Ivan leaned back and kicked his feet onto the table, pulling his oversized hat down over his eyes, half listening to the teacher drone on about what to expect from the classroom. As far as he was concerned, the class hadn't started yet, and everything before that was a motivational speech, if not wasted breath. Probably both at the same time. He snickered quietly to himself, leaning back on his chair before he barely caught the mention of 'White-' out of one of the several fanus present in the room. The gunslinger managed to turn his sudden snap to attention into a badly disguised yawn, awkwardly stretching his arms over his head and nearly knocking off his ridiculously large hat in his haste. There was only one well-known organization that could garner such a drastic reaction from the most ill-timed of all Freudian slips. The White Fang. He ground his teeth almost absently at the mere mention of the name. Horrible criminals who brought harm to the innocent and masked themselves like the dirty scum that roamed the lands outside of the kingdoms. This first day just kept getting better.With his badly created veil of disinterest all but obliterated, Ivan stood bolt upright and glared around the room at the rest of the students, preparing to give his introductory speech. Even with the annoyance, anger, and new-found suspicion that smoldered behind his intensely green eyes, Ivan's introduction was laced with his signature aggravating amounts of arrogance. He tossed out the syllables simply dripping with disdain, as if this were already something the common masses learned in their childhood schooling. "My name is Ivan Oakley. I'm a damn good shot and perfectly capable engineer when it comes to projectile based weapons of all sorts, specializing in large caliber guns." He tossed a glance at the Unsubtle. "Of the more, ah, mobile variety. My semblance allows them to hit harder than they should."

Armory, Period 4 Indi listened as Ivan described what he was doing. Yeah, that made sense. Doing weird semblance stuff to your weapon was bound to mess it up, especially if your semblance dealt with force. With that satisfying, surprisingly non-douchey response, Indi focused on the professor. The professor had so much energy, charisma, and command. The speech was rousing and reassuring. He didn't know much about engineering, one simple textbook was all he had to work with when creating Cia and Lana. He wasn't a savant or anything, he just made a real nice blade and two decent guns, but to him that was enough. At least, it was before. Now, he wanted to work hard and make something even better. Dust, that was where he was lacking. Cia and Lana didn't do much with it, he didn't even really use dust bullets. But here, he'd make more use of it. He allowed some other people to introduce themselves first, he wasn't a complete attention seeker, just mostly one. Moreover, he wanted to here the really hot chick's intro. To do that, he surprisingly listened to all the others, trying real hard not to miss her. The lion dude, Geni, said his piece, letting slip that he had a stint with the White Fang. Whoops. Even mentioning the White Fang as a faunus was risky business. Indi, personally, was fine with them. People listened to violence, why shy away from it? Besides, Faunus have been getting stomped on for awhile, it was time for them to be treated as equals. Indi looked over at Ivan to see him get pissed more. Jeez, Indi thought he was a hothead but all Ivan ever did was get mad. At least he made stupid pervy jokes in between the blind rage. Wait, was he pissed at Geni for mentioning the White Fang? That was... stupid. What the hell was wrong with Geni? He said used to, even if you have a problem with the WF he left them, why-? Indi was shaken from his thoughts as Ivan got up to introduce himself. Whatever, he'd get pissed at Ivan later. Ivan introduced himself in his typical narcissistic way, so Indi decided to follow in his footsteps and introduce himself as well. "Hey, I'm Indi. I like to kill stuff, and I'd like to think I make a good blade, though I guess I'm gonna find out if I actually do. I'm pretty sure I do, though." He said, taking a glance back up at Saph and that intimidating girl while sitting back down.

Having since escaped from 'the incident' at the lunch table, Aurellius found himself slipping into classroom wearing a newly cleaned suit with all the fresh smells that came with. Splashing milk and chunks of soup didn't get along well at all. He didn't even have a chance to try some of the delectable meats, all because of some sort of heavy petting that also involved knives. With a sigh, he sat down next to the only person he recognized, of whom he was slowly growing used to. Aurellius nodded slightly, but kept silent as he ruffled his own collar, not quite satisfied with his results. In reality, he had simply tossed a coin to decide over between Armory class and this one, but in the end, tails had won its mark. He wasn't quite sure what the class was for, but 'Grimm Studies' is a bit more self explanatory than 'armory'. Of course, the man in charge of their class happened to be a prancing pony who spouted out bits of how they should all be chivalrous and blah, blah, blah. His interest only happened to be piqued as soon as the real lesson was revealed, a lesson of sharp teeth and claws. He was distracted for a few moments as he stared at the beast, some sort of lion mixed with a wolf, though the one in question happened only to be a young one. Ignoring the three other raised hands, he held his own up high, speaking with a hint of sarcasm as he waved his arm around, "Oh, sir, pick me, will you? Pleeeaase?"

Robert walked happily with his teammates to the Grimm Studies class, completely oblivious to Greyson's jealousy. Robert made sure that, when they arrived at the classroom, he would sit right next to those he knew, specifically Priscilla. After taking his seat he realized that the teacher was the same one that had administered the Beacon entrance exam. And sure enough, he had a long, boring, egotistical story about himself to share with the rest of the class. After the long waste of time Prof. Port spent telling the days of his youth, Robert spotted the cage that held the dangerous,young Grimm. When asked for volunteers, he thought about the decision carefully. "I still feel a bit sore from that sparring match with Abel, but it'd be a great way to show off more for Priscilla," Robert said aloud at a barely audible whisper. "I'll do it!" he shouted, hand held high above his head.

It wasn't much too difficult to pass through unnoticed, despite his daunting height and cumbersome form. Jayden held an agile grace about him that his stature didn't quite represent well, if not entirely debunked the idea, but alas, Jayden often found himself more surefooted than most. So, finding a way to slip through the crowd of students, lunch in hand and a wary feature set, Jayden through to the courtyard of Beacon, sat quiet upon a ledge to eat in peace. Of course, team bonding was at the top priority it was still technically their first casual day together. They'd set up a system in the heat of battle, sure, but Jayden in combat and Jayden in everyday life were two separate entities and it, though it came hard to admit, Jayden lacked the confidence he showed in himself outside of the field of battle. Tedious conversations and mishaps seemed far too trivial to take part in, or in reality, it put far too much pressure on Jayden than he knew he was used to or knew he could handle, for that matter. Quiet courtyards, sparse of any distractions aside from those wanted (birds, bugs, and the breeze) provided a better environment for Jayden to relax in. His battle, unfortunately, subsided promptly and came more as a shock than anything else—uneventful, to say the least, and maybe just a tad bit disappointing. Jayden refused to put up a fuss, however, and accepted the far too easy win in lieu of further moments to himself and the prospect of having those moments in solitude. Rayna and Victor would certainly be able to do without him and his stalwart figure, not to mention unassuming rabbit ears. Plus, Jayden was far too hungry and he'd suspected that if hadn't taken the chance to leave, he might not have had the opportunity to eat. Lunch times in any kind of educational system didn't really provide the time for their children to eat. More so, the students didn't provide themselves any time to eat—high hormone levels and puberty tended to raise priority on antics over that of getting food in one's stomach, at least from Jayden's perspective. With the bell tone ringing in his ears, Jayden stood from his perch on the low wall to dispose of the food he hadn't eaten and the tray within the cafeteria before promptly making his way toward his next class. Grimm Studies, something Jayden took delight in, though not necessarily for the reason of defeating them in numerous, creative ways. He refused to voice his opinions and his delight in studying Grimm in a more scientific way rather than combative, as Beacon didn't necessarily nurture that in their students, or at least that's what most students would assume. Such a thought urged Jayden to take the furthest seat in the back, away from all the other students and for more reasons than he had a different opinion than them. Most people didn't take to faunus lightly and Jayden's ears were a glowing beacon for people to comment on. They were large, occasionally floppy, and most of all, they were a stark tinge of black, with a base of largely white, and speckles of dark green scattered about that stood out most definitely against the backdrop of his own jet black hair. Hands folded along the desk, highest and furthest back, Jayden paid close attention to the students of the classroom, though kept most of his focus on his teacher and what he had to say. Of course, he wasn't exactly expecting for the first class to be so... hands on and the query for volunteers flared Jayden's anxiety tenfold. Ears folding downward in an attempt to shrink, Jayden leaned back into his chair, hands sinking into his lap as his eyes scanned the room in antiipation. "You realize it's your job to assist students with behavioral issues, right?" Ahriman's hands flicked over his roster, leaning informally against Solomon's desk with little concern for the man fussing over coffee in the corner of his office. Why he wouldn't just head over to the break room for freshly brewed coffee amazed Ahriman, but he wouldn't bring it up. With Solomon's ailment, having things he needed or wanted within reach was far simpler. With a frustrated sigh, Solomon slammed his personal coffee mug down and spun to face Ahriman. "And you realize you're wasting your prep time making googly eyes at another teacher," he retorted before returning to fixing his coffee machine. A light haze floated along Ahriman's features, promptly followed by a quiet grumble only the stag faunus' ears could quite catch. A small smile lit Ahriman's lips as he pushed off from the desk. "Jealous of a piece of paper," he stated, "how very like you." "Not jealous," Solomon's responded, quiet as the coffee machine finally whirred to life, "just frustrated—by other means, of course. Children are... difficult. Remind me not to convince you to get one." "Duly noted," Ahriman spoke, grinning as he moved into Solomon's space, placing a light peck on the man's stubbled cheek. "Don't forget to pick up your mail. There's quite a few important things that require your attention, from Ozpin, I suspect. Or Goodwitch, both are rather important," Ahriman huffed, hushed as he laid another chaste kiss on Solomon's cheek, "I'll see you later tonight; don't stress yourself out, this time. I'd like someone to actually eat the dinner I make." "I'll try not to if you promise not to kill any kids this year," Solomon shot, turning to face a retreating Ahriman as he moved to exit the office. "Your miscreants left, by the way," Ahriman called back, "And it was his fault for not telling me he required an inhaler beforehand." "Did you seriously—" "No, just... mild brain damage." "Because brain damage can be considered mild, right."

Merlin nearly fell asleep as Prof. Port expertly told his story. He began to wonder if this is what people are like when they get old. Do they live so much in the past that they must always tell it to someone, or is it a way to get people to pay attention to them? Merlin pondered both scenarios in his head. He could understand both, the first would be that someone who has aged considerable may want to escape to the past that they have had, when they were younger and full of life. The second scenario is a lot more saddening. The person who has aged may feel like that life around them has begun to move forward, and they are not along for the ride; therefor, they remind those that left them behind that they still exist. Merlin didn't have such a luxury like living in the past. Just thinking about his past life made his skin crawl. He hated it, and he was going to make sure nothing like that would happen to him again. Merlin continued to think of things like this until Prof. Port finally moved away from the story and transitioned into a challenge to the newer generation. The prospect of fighting a Grimm in front of an audience excited Merlin. Without even giving it a second thought, Merlin raised his hand, leaned back, and waited for the teachers decision. "This ought to be a good show. The suspense is killing me, hehehe" He said with grin. He wasn't one to shy away from a challenge, and he also loved to entertain the audience. An opportunity that combined both of those aspects presented itself, and Merlin wasn't going to let it pass by without at least being considered for it.

Period 4, Armory Class Ineko quickly jogged to the Armory class. That shower took longer than expected. Damn the hot water for feeling so comfortable. He thought to himself. His armor was still wet from the quick cleaning he gave it. He opened the door to the Armory class quietly and the first thing he noticed was the classroom itself. It was like stepping into the iron amazon forest, and then he felt the gaze of something powerful. Ineko glanced to it, and found the metal beast parked inside of the classroom, a tank. Like an apex predator it seemed to watch his every move, and Damascus was certainly not completely comfortable either. Shaking it off, he noticed that there were a couple of conversations going, he used this background noise to, surprisingly stealthily, find a seat. Finding that seat next to Indigo, who was sitting next to Ivan. Right after, Ivan stood up and introduced himself. Then Indigo introduced himself. Not wanting to break the stride, Ineko stood up. "I'm... Ineko Irandi. I like to do robotics and armor." The armored student said somewhat awkwardly, his robot-esque voice was a little garbled due to the moisture of the shower he took earlier. He stood there for a second before slowly sitting back down. Once he did, he leaned in towards Indigo and whispered, "I've missed something haven't I?" He glanced back to the tank again, just to make sure it hadn't moved.

Happy to see more volunteers than in the morning class, the professor nodded. “Do not worry, everyone will get a chance to prove themselves, even if not today. Whether they like it or not.” he said, giving a glance to the few that seemed downright opposed to the idea of raising a hand. Looking at the volunteers, he noticed that among the first were the members of team Bastion. He remembered their story from the faculty meeting and realized full well they would want to prove themselves. Very well, if the headmaster believed they deserved the chance, he would be all too happy to see what was in this year’s crop of adventurous blokes. “Mister Lloyd, why don’t you show us how it’s done?” he said, waving his arm in the boy’s direction. “And do not worry, we have time for more matches today and there are plenty grimm where this one came from. In the meantime, I want the rest of you to observe. Identify the creature. Find it in your books and as the fight progresses, compare the weaknesses of the cub to those of the adult.” the professor instructed as he waited for Ben to get ready. When it was time, his rifle-axe struck the lock and released the monster. It was angry. They caught it. They kept it in an agonizing hunger. They were going to pay. It would feast on their blood today. There was a source of anxiety right in front of it that drawn it like a magical lure. Someone who wasn’t sure they belonged. Well, the wendigo would gladly relieve the human of his peril. Snarling, the creature charged at the boy.

"Wait... you did whatto her?" Victor eyes almost popped out of his head hearing how Rayna won her fight. "I had no idea... I was trying to fix my arm for my own fight. I didn't watch anyone elses. Sorry. Well it does explain the hostility." With the conversation progressing along Victor was surprised how happy he felt knowing that his leader would be in the Armory class with him "Well isn't that a happy happenstance? I understand although to be fair so far our inter-team issues seem to be limited to Rampaged. Well either way it shouldn't be a boring class with you around... Captain." the last word had more of a smile in it than usual. Victor walked at a leisurely pace, allowing himself to be led by Rayna. ARMORY Entering Armory along side Rayna, Victor rubbed his eyes to make sure they weren't playing tricks on him. Well... that's a tank alright. Is that a showpiece or- "Who owns the tank?"The sudden exclamation by the Armory teacher interrupted Victor's train of thought "A damn fine piece of engineering! I expect big things from you, Mr Goldstein. Big things indeed." So a student owns it. No kill like overkill I suppose gently leading Rayna by the arm Victor found them both a relatively empty spot to sit down. As a large textbook slammed down in front of him Victor jumped back slightly. Victor started leafing through it absentmindedly listening to the speech by this strangely charismatic teacher. "Right! I need to see what sort of playing field we're all on so it's time to tell everyone who you are and what you can do!" Victor didn't particularly feel like being the first to stand up, thankfully there were others that took the initiative. Listening to each person's introduction Victor busied himself familiarising himself with the work bench and the surrounding tools. When there was a suitable gap in introductions, Victor stood up for his turn. "Hi everyone, my name is Victor and this weapon making engineering topic? Well it's kind of a way of life" lifting his prosthetic to demonstrate his point "I mean it in more the sense that being bad at this makes life a bit more difficult for me rather than an obsession and learning as much as possible now nears necessity. Sooo... yeah. I can fix my arm and I can probably build another one if needed. That's it." sitting down Victor glanced at Rayna with a face that said 'How do you think I did?'

Sangue - Grimm Studies Sangue turned to Ben, finally realizing why he raised his hand. Glancing at Trad, then turning to look at Ben again, she continued to hold a blank look. Ben was strong, but it was her nature to silently ponder over her teammates' condition. With Ben chosen to fight the Grimm, Sangue simply stared at her leader with her left eye closed and her right eye slightly open. She looked bored, despite the fact that her heart pounded worriedly. But he probably has all of his stuff, she thought, so it's going to be alright, I think. ...I think. Sangue ever-so-slightly turned to Trad before turning back to Ben, then at Trad, then at Ben. She slowly prepared her books and proceeded to hold onto a pencil. The woman would have been ambidextrous had it not been for the fact that she only had one hand to use.

Mokuren was confused. It seemed everyone assumed she wanted to slice the stupid man into pieces and dispose of him perfectly! but that was not her intention. Everyone was ganging up on her, it was so unfair. Like her house. Mokuren's hand trembled softly but she retained that all to happy smile as she spoke. "I just thought that it was the armory class, so we should show what weapons we have. Doesn't that make sense?" she asked, looking to the teacher as he spoke something about blowing up Goliath. It sounded interesting, and Mokuren had thought of an idea for some sort of rapid-fire system for the hilt, but would need help not to unbalance the sword. Mokuren then shrugged off everyone else and returned to her seat, sheathing the sword. Once she arrived, Mokuren started to read through the book at a very rapid pace, turning pages after only several seconds of reading. It was mostly basic stuff, but there where some interesting and inventive ideas inside here. Mokuren decided, she liked this book.

Shiro - Armory Shiro was shaken from his thoughts as another student pulled a chair opposite of the Lion Faunus and sat down. At a quick glance, Shiro realized that it was the boy who had won his fight without his primary weapon. The sharply dressed boy in a military-esque uniform. Blinking, Shiro stared at Marcus in brief awe and admiration. Shiro shook his head slightly as the boy greeted himself and complimented him on his weapons, asking if they combined. Smiling and nodding his head, Shiro greeted him in return. "Ah, g'day to you too. Yes, they do combine into a larger weapon. I'll-..." Shiro stopped and looked up at the ceiling, a thought interrupting his line of speech. "Larger weapon. Wait, isn't this guy's weapon a machine of some sort? I heard he had a tank." Just then, as if he hadn't noticed the giant behemoth in the classroom, Shiro almost jumped out of his seat. "THAT THING?!" Slowly, Shiro settled back down into his seat and looked upon Marcus with a mixture of reverence and intimidation. "He made that and pilots it?" A bead of nervous sweat slowly rolled down the side of Shiro's face. Motioning towards it with a hand, he asked "I-is that yours?" He nervously chuckled. "I'll have to make certain not to get on this guy's bad side...That thing is terrifying." Looking back at the tank, another thought derailed his mental workings. "Wasn't this dude's opponent a Lion Faunus...? Slowly, Shiro turned to look at Geni and realized that he sat between two students that had sparred with one another. Nervously, Shiro willed himself to focus on his desk once again. He hoped nothing awkward would happen between the two of them, he wouldn't want to be caught in the middle. At that moment, Geni asked if he could possibly handle Kladenets and Perun. Shiro was about to refuse, he didn't appreciate anyone handling his only memento of his parents, but the Lion Faunus suddenly got up and walked away. Shiro sighed, crisis averted. He got particularly sensitive whenever anyone asked to touch or handle his treasured inheritance. Sure, he'd gladly show it off all day, but ask to feel how heavy they were and suddenly Shiro would become guarded and put his weapons away. Then, to add to the noise bustling around inside his noggin, she came into the classroom. At least one of them, anyways. More specifically, one of the Fox Faunus ladies he noticed during the first period when they held their sparring matches. Watching as she danced through the classroom, Shiro was mesmerized. He couldn't help but eye her alluring tail, wishing no more than to bury his face in it and nuzzle it. He wonder how well Fox and Tiger Faunus would mix... "NO! NONONONONO!" Shiro face immediately burned a bright red, starkly contrasting his pale skin and white fur. Double face-palming himself, he shook his head vigorously and proceeded to smash his face onto his desk. Ripping his hood over his head, he tried to tightly curl himself into a ball in his chair. His blood boiled as it rush rapidly through his veins, his heart pounded within its bone cage. "Why is SHE in this class, too!?" Mewling pathetically underneath his buried head, he lamented over his predicament. Stuck between two students who fought each other, one of whom he didn't particularly like. His surly team leader in the same class with him, along with a bird Faunus he harbored ill intent towards, and one of his crushes. He dearly wished he could sit next to Gren and hide next to his hulking frame. Maybe he could change his seat some other day? He was looking to enjoy his time in this class but he doubted whether his poor heart could take being in such a stressful place for however long. As he remained with his head hidden, he barely paid any attention to the teacher as he made some speech. Hearing other voices, he presumed that they were all introducing themselves with a brief bit about who they were. As he pulled back the hood of his cowl slightly so that one white ear poked out and a single golden-eye peered from the shadows, he saw the mood of the room had changed somewhat. Geni looked particularly tense. From under his hood he mumbled to Marcus beside him, "Whu'appened? What'd I miss?" He thought about maybe introducing himself, but the people...They would see and hear him. Normally, Shiro wasn't like this. He would regularly be explosive and energetic, but the wrong mixture of people in the room quickly drained him of his enthusiasm and energy. Hiding back underneath his hood, his conflicting emotions battled each other. His body started to violently tremble and shake from the anxiety and nervous energy building up within him. "Stop being a baby, stand up and introduce yourself!" "But, the fox girl..." "So what? Women like confident and outgoing boys, right?" "I know but, I don't wanna..." "Come on, this isn't how you usually are!" "I know but, I'm shy. I don't want to embarrass myself in front of these new strangers." "Bull-honky, you're not shy! Who cares if you embarrass yourself, that's part of your goofy charm! Remember the cafeteria table landing? You didn't seem to care then!" "Sapphire will get mad at me again..." "Why do you care?" "I'unno..." "Just get up, you're making a scene and attracting unwanted notice!" His shaking got severe enough to the point that his entire desk started to clatter loudly. Shiro looked like a volcano fit to burst, trembling as hard as a major earthquake. He started to hyperventilate, there wasn't much oxygen underneath his hood to sustain him for long. Which, was probably attributing to his delirium. "Get. UP." "Noooo..." "STAND." "Uh-uh!" "MOVE." "Nuuu..." Gritting his teeth, he couldn't take it anymore and finally decided to pick a 'side' to go with. Throwing back his hood, his arm shot up into the air as he stood and raised it. At a rapid fire pace, he frantically spouted out his introduction and practically shouted it out at the entire class. "MY NAME IS KUHAKU SHIRO BUT YOU CAN ALL CALL ME SHIRO I AM 17 YEARS YOUNG AND I AM I'M A WHITE TIGER FAUNUS AND I'M VERY HAPPY TO BE PART OF THIS CLASS MY WEAPONS ARE KLADENETS MY SWORD AND PERUN MY SHIELD AND I INHERITED THEM FROM MY LATE PARENTS THEY WERE THE ONES WHO ORIGINALLY MACHINED AND FORGED THEM BUT OVER TIME I MADE MY OWN MODIFICATIONS TO THEM AND I AM WELL VERSED IN FIREARMS AND COMPUTER TECHNOLOGY THOUGH KNOW VERY LITTLE ABOUT FORGING BLADES I DO KNOW SOME ABOUT MACHINING I HOPE TO GET TO KNOW YOU ALL AND BECOME GOOD FRIENDS WITH ALL OF YOU THANK. YOU. FOR. LISTENING. TO. MY. INTRODUCTION!" His arm then returned to his side as he proceeded to pop to attention and bended at the waist in a straight angle. Eyes shut tight, he bowed to the class. Not daring to open his eyes, he was sweating slightly and his chest heaved as he took in large gulps of air, panting. His face burned a bright red. "Oh, boy. You probably did it now...Sapphire's gonna be maaaad." The back of his head ached for some reason. He got the feeling Sapphire was the violent type to hit others. Namely, him.

Abel Fulgurate, Grimm Studies

Though Abel could have done without the longwindedness and the self-exhortation, he tried his best to be attentive to Port's story. At his age, and in his line of work, the professor could only have been a remarkable huntsmen. Abel knew from experience more than book-learning that the bodies of slain Grimm dissolve into smoke within minutes of their demise, making memory the only way to archive a hunter's greatest conquests. As he listened, the guardian decided that he wanted his own story to progress similar to Port's: old, and alive, and full of grand memories. His face darkened, however, and he stared at the desk as he considered the path before him. I'll need a whole lot more than rage and muscle to survive what's coming. He perked up slightly when Port asked for a volunteer. From within the cage that was pushed into the room there came a furious clamor, a cacophony of enraged snarls and little shrieks that carried with them a tinge of familiarity. Where have I heard those shrieks before...? Abel racked his brain trying to figure out what the thing was based on its sound, but came up empty-handed. That, and a flurry of hands into the air -though not all of them sincere- made him reconsider volunteering. He watched the kid called Lloyd as Port selected him. When the late arrival had made his way to the floor, tonfas at the ready, Port obliterated the cage's lock and released its seething occupant. “What?!” Abel was nearly speechless. How the hell had they captured a Wendigo, especially a cub? Abel shifted slightly in his seat, rather glad that he had not volunteered. Back in Pallisade, the only knowledge of Wendigo came first-hand, but that in itself was tricky, since they tended not to leave survivors. The words of a fellow guardsman echoed in his mind: If one decides that it wants to kill you, your fate is almost decided. They'll stalk you for days, waiting for the perfect chance to pounce and tear you to pieces. If you're too well protected, they'll keep you from sleeping with their haunting howls and cries, and then consume you when you're too tired to stand. They can climb trees and stone walls, cut through solid wood with their scythes, and who knows what else. Do you know what 'Wendigo' means, Abel? The darkness that devours. But this one was only a cub. The realization came a couple of seconds late, and Abel allowed his tension to fade. Adults were apex predators, but cubs were just awful balls of fur and claws—or so he hoped. He watched intently, focused on learning as much as possible from Ben.

Name: Marcus Goldstein Location: Armoury class Status: Good "Who owns the tank?" "I do sir." Marcus responded instantly when the professor asked, answering Shiro’s question at the same time. Immediately the man followed up with a compliment. "Thank you sir." Marcus said with an awkward smile. He did not really know how to handle public praise, it was not something he was used to getting. Even the faint bit he caught from Oswald was enough to make it hot under his collar. It felt nice though. His small smile widened to a grin as the professor continued his speech. It felt like coming home, except this home was warm, inviting and full of promise. Then the Big Book of Engineering Arms landed on his table. Marcus decided on the spot this was now his favourite class. He hardly noticed the discomfort of the Tiger faunus next to him, instead concentrating on the introductions. He already knew largely what Oswald was capable of through their adventure in the forest. Still he paid close attention, it would help if he ever needed to fix Oswald’s weapon for him for whatever reason. It intrigued that a former member of the White Fang was allowed into Beacon. Then again part of the official government policy so far was to leave those that were no longer a part of the organisation alone in favour of chasing after more active members. If Geni wanted a clean slate, Marcus would not give him trouble for it. With an uncaring shrug Marcus’ gaze moved on. Now Ivan, Ivan was highly interesting. Stressed barrels were an all too familiar problem to the tanker, there was a corner in his previous garage dedicated solely to maintenance and replacement of the main gun. Then there was that bit where he could make firearms hit harder. That was something very interesting indeed. Indi was typical of the avarage hunter really. A preference to go out and kill stuff over the intricacies of using math and science to make the other guy’s head explode. Ineko appeared as an all round pleasant person, a kindred spirit almost, though oddly skittish for some odd reason as he stared at Unsubtle. “Relax, it will not hurt you.” Marcus muttered. _{“I fokken well will if you let me, I’ll tear each and everyone here a new arsehole if need be. I’m top dog yer cunt, now take pride in that fer focks sake.” a woman’s voice added in a vitriolic tone that conveyed contempt for anything that was not on fire or worshipping her treads.} “Whu'appened? What'd I miss?” Shiro whispered at him off to his side. “Nothing, introductions mostly.” Marcus whispered back. Victor piqued interest with his sophisticated prosthetic. Humble too, there were a lot of options available to someone who could design and built objects with such narrow tolerances. Just arms alone would be a waste of talent. For some odd reason his arm stood out as familiar though Marcus had no idea why. Finally he noticed Shiro suffering from what appeared to be a seizure of some description. Worried, Marcus made to poke the tiger faunus on the shoulder when the boy practically exploded. _{“Gagging fock-eyed horrendacunt the fock was that?!”} “Um. Right then.” Marcus said and slowly took a full step away from Shiro as he got to his feet. “My name is Marcus Goldstein and it is... “ he fumbled for a good phrase as he stared at Shiro, “quite the experience to meet you all. As far as my skills go I designed and built the Elegantly Unsubtle you can see at the back there. It is based on the old Century mark one chassis, but widened and reinforced to accommodate an el-seven ae one artillery cannon as well as generally upgraded to modern standards. I am well versed in all aspects of mechanical engineering, though my specialties are vehicles, firearms and computer programming.” That about covered the load he surmised and gently sat down next to the live bomb that was Shiro. Or the heart patient Shiro, Marcus had yet to figure out which.

After lunch Gren had to dispose of what was left of the food. He didn't like it, but it wouldn't last too long even if he had refrigerated it. A pity really. His next class was Armory he believed, where he could make new weapons or add additional ones to his current weapon. Gren already knew he was going to need some extra gear, but not for The God Eater. At most he may just have to replace some parts for better upgrades, but it's largely going to remain the same. No, Gren was going to need some more... Personal equipment for the field. Probably nothing he can build in one day but it would be the start of his project. After putting away his food and cleaning the oil off the God Eater Gren arrived to the class. It was already packed and Gren didn't really make any efforts to seat with his teammates. Mainly because the seats around them had already been occupied. No matter, Gren had other things to think about. Taking a seat close to the front if he could manage it Gren sat down and opened up a journal. He had a few ideas he wanted to implement, most of them small things. Equipment he could... Hide on his body, sort to say. Gren didn't really pay attention to everyone's introduction though he did at least get most of their names. He chuckled at Shiro's, figuring his friend was merely nervous for his first day in class. Everyone was making their introduction and soon it was Gren's turn. He stood up and speak clearly. "Gren Orchid, of team Swansong. I've worked with artillery, cybernetics, metallurgy, dust, and most machines. My skills are more... Innate than experience. I'm hoping to change that here." With his modest introduction finished Gren sat back down and let the chaos around him continue. He was wondering if he could create a weapon that focuses his semblance into something akin to a tractor beam.

Just as things looked like they were about to get heated the teacher entered the room and began a speech about the importance of armory class. It matched Sapphire's ideals exactly, there was no point knowing the best place to hit a Grimm to kill it if you had enough firepower to incinerate it. Both the Fox faunus and Lionheart departed for their own seats and Sapphire did the same, sitting back down next to Amy. Who told her she didn't need Sapphire's help but thanked her for it any ways. A girl that could take care of herself, Sapphire liked that.

Next were the introductions. As the baton went around the room Sapphire got a good feel of most of the others in the class.

Oswald was a man of few words but the impressiveness of his Spiral Sword and Guardian's shield made up for anything he wasn't saying.

Amy seemed competent enough though Sapphire would have liked to know a little more about her weapon. At the moment they appeared to be in storage mode on her desk and as such appeared as long metal sleeves. Likely they were a lot like Morpheus and Phobator, they assembled when the right command was given.

Ivan was predictable, he had the amazing power of being able to blow hot air. Listening too him you'd have thought he was the best shot in four kingdoms and could wipe out all the Grimm in the world single handed. The information about his semblance though she held onto, that would be important later.

Indigo, Ivan's partner seemed a little unsure of himself but at least his conviction was strong. He glanced back at Sapphire when he spoke of making a good blade. She hoped for his sake that blade wasn't targeted at her.

Ineko, now there was an interesting one, Sapphire couldn't remember his fight, it must have been one of the ones she was temporarily blinded for. His introduction didn't say much about him but he did have those drones always flying nearby that interested her. She might ask him about their abilities later.

Her eyes fell on Shiro next and she realized immediately that something was wrong. He was slumped on his desk, curled into a tight ball, his hood covering his face and vibrating so fast the desks around him were mimicking the movements. Had he overclocked his semblance between here and the lunchroom? No that couldn't have been it. When it came time for his introduction there was a good thirty second pause in which everyone started at the tiger faunus who looked to be having a seizure. Seconds later he shot up from his chair like a volcano exploding shouting out a rather rushed and explosive introduction, the word and grated on her ears by the time he was finished, he'd used it so many times.

She should have figured it was just Shiro being... a thousand words came to her mind to describe what Shiro was, none of them polite so she settled on describing Shiro as Shiro. Anything else and she'd be too tempted to say it out loud to resist. He'd had her scared if only for a moment and for that he was going to pay. She stood as Marcus and Gren were introducing themselves and made her way down to where Shiro was sitting. She put on her best manners along with a winning smile brightened her face considerable and was uncharacteristic for anyone that knew her.

"My apologies Mr. Chatsworth," She said motioning to her teammate. "My friend here has clearly suffered some serious brain trauma during the sparing matches this morning. It's my fault really, as team leader I should have realized sooner. I'd request that Shiro be allowed to adjourn to the nurses office for the remainder of class so they can make sure there isn't any permanent damage." That aught to set him straight, really only her own teammates had any real reason to doubt what she said and to most of the other students any protests Shiro himself made would look like attempts to save face.

They were still in the middle of introductions, Sapphire figured now was as good a time as any. "My name is Sapphire Rode, my mother was an engineer and huntress, she taught me a good deal of what she knew. I specialize mostly in compact mechanics, the ability of an object to collapse in on itself to become both portable and concealable, While we're here I'm hoping to make something a little out of the norm." She had a few ideas but nothing concrete enough for a schematic. The other thing she prayed was that no one recognized her last name. That last thing she needed in this class was to be recognized as Janus Rode's daughter. She'd been lucky enough not have it mentioned thus far.

"Now Shiro we should be getting you to the nurses office."

Armory Class: Mokuren Sabella Hearing the loud, firey and proud - at least that is how Mokuren saw it, and was oblivious to how it actually was - Mokuren looked up and saw the man. Tiger, seventeen and with enough courage to exclaim his introduction to the entire class with great and furious volume. It was this kind of person that Mokuren was looking for. This kind of person she wanted to be friends with. And by friend she meant not eating him unless there was no other way. Mokuren then felt her hackles rise as the other girl claimed he had 'penetrating brain trauma' from the spar and he needed to go to the doctor's office. Such a statement was obviously untrue but there was nothing anyone could do about it, so Mokuren stood and smiled broadly. If she could not help her Tiger over-rule this claim, she would at least escort him so they could talk in private. She knew so much about him, thanks to his outburst, but he knew nothing about her. About her abilities, and about her skills. "Teacher, I will escort Shiro to the nurses office. If he has damaged something, it would not do for him to be alone in transit" Mokuren offered, swishing her tail absently.

(Grimm Studies) Ben flashed his teammates an almost casual grin as he slid his chair back, leaving his pen on the desk in front of him. The easy, relaxed expression covered up the preparatory tightening of his muscles and the quickening of his heart. It only took him a moment to reach the room’s clear floor, obviously prepared for this very occasion, and he moved to take a position opposite the cage. Port was addressing the class as a whole, but Ben wasn’t really listening to it. He didn’t need to. All eyes, at that moment, were on him. Hs teammates’, his classmates’, the professor’s, they were all paying attention. Ready to evaluate his performance. Evaluate him. This was his only chance for a first impression. If, and he hated himself for indulging the hypothetical, he failed, he’d do harm to his reputation. Failure to pass the exam already marred his reputation. He needed to make up for that. No pressure. He thought dryly, reaching to his belt. Time to show them why we’re here. With practiced ease he pulled his tonfa from his belt, one in either hand. Lawnslot his left, Artorius his right. He pulled his shoulders back and held the position, the stretch loosening up his shoulders. With a deft flick of each wrist he flipped his tonfa out from his arms, facing the points forward, before bringing them back. Their spines ran along the bone of his forearm, cool even through the sleeves of his shirt. The shotgun barrels were loaded only with a shot or two each, things he’d prefer to avoid using in the classroom if he could. Granted, the classroom was set up so as to minimize the danger to observers. It wasn’t likely to be an issue. He could act without too much worry for restraint. Sinking into a light-footed stance, left foot and arm leading his guard with the right towards the rear, he waited. A single nod to Port confirmed his readiness. And a single move from the professor released his opponent. The beast was only a cub, he knew, but that didn’t make it any less inherently unnerving to have a wendigo charging at you. Thousand of years of human evolution, hardwired deep into the fabric of his being, kicked in. The first urge was to get out of the way, and this time, Benjamin obliged it. He stepped to his right, pivoting on the spot to keep his left forearm between him and the Grimm. He was rewarded, almost instantly, with the sound and feeling of claws raking down Lawnslot’s length, kept from his arm only by a few inches of metal. Bastion’s leader didn’t waste time, flipping Artorius’ tip forward with a flick of his wrist and driving it towards the wendigo’s exposed flank. The blade glanced along the beast’s side, but missed its mark as the Grimm lunged aside. It was now that Ben got his first real look at the creature. A Wendigo, one of the more menacing creatures that roamed the land. It was only a cub but it still stood as tall as, even slightly taller than, his waist. Its long scythe-like tail twitched, a low, quiet sign of the black beast’s rage. Its flanks were free from scars, save his own blow, unlike its fully grown kin; a fully grown Wendigo, a voice in the back of his head reminded him, would be both as large as a horse and criss-crossed with scars from previous wounds. They had an ability to heal, and each scar was a badge of honor. Proof of a fight survived. Ben had retreated a few steps, putting a little distance between him and the beast. The Wendigo didn’t contest the move, lips curled back in a silent snarl under cruelly intelligent red eyes. Stillness, for a moment, pervaded the room like an oppressive blanket. Nothing moved, not the Grimm, not Ben, and not the class. A low, hair-raising howl split the silence, growing in volume severity as it issued forth from the cub’s throat. It lunged without further warning, all four paws leaving the floor as it hurled itself at Ben with hatred in its eyes. The huntsman in training sidestepped again, and the Wendigo landed smoothly… Only to lash out with its tail, the scythe intercepted in the nick of time by Lawnslot. But the natural, curved blade, rather than being deflected, grabbed the weapon, yanking it down and aside while the Wendigo stabbed its claws for Ben’s unprotected gut. He batted its forearm aside with Artorius, but none too soon. One of its claws cut the side of his shirt, not far from his own side. This move, however, had forced the Grimm into an untenable position with a foreleg too far extended, and its second primary weapon occupied with Lawnslot. A fact that was soon demonstrated quite clearly when Ben planted his foot in its underside, causing it to stumble back with an angry growl. Wendigo, as far as Grimm go, are pretty smart. They learn. But… Means they can be tricked. The beast sensed weakness. It had found a chink in the armor, a flaw in the defenses, and it wasted no time in exploiting it, advancing with another swing of its tail. But this time Ben was ready. He blocked easily with Artorius, stopping the Grimm’s scythe easily. Blocking with the right, rather than the left, permitted the force to be distributed throughout his stance. Lawnslot’s blade lashed out, cleanly removing the scythe from its owner. The Wendigo shrieked in rage and pain, and Ben felt his blood chill at the sound, but it would not be deterred. It wasn’t as smart as older Grimm, and it threw caution to the wind with its rage, hurling itself at Ben with the intent to sink its teeth into his throat. But its jaws closed, instead, around Lawnslot’s blade and spine, stopped half a foot from his neck. A close call, at first glance. But the distance was intentional. His right leg was a half-step back, providing a bracing point to maintain his position, as well as enable him to step into his next strike. Ben flicked his wrist, realigning Artorius’ blade forward, also realigning its shotgun barrel to point back along his forearm. His right foot took a step forward, forcing the beast back on its hindlegs, exposing its underside as well as granting extra power to the thrust of his weapon that followed. He triggered the firearm even as he struck, the recoil combining with the strength of his arm to bury the blade deep in the Wendigo’s torso. The beast gave one last growl, more spiteful than menacing now, before petering off as the Grimm dissolved away to nothing. Bastion’s leader could feel the exhilaration of the fight rushing through his veins, good old fashioned adrenaline, and could feel his heart pumping rhythmically in his chest. Nothing got the ticker pumping like a brawl, and he knew it would be a moment before it started to settle to its normal resting pulse. Almost idly, he glanced at the tear the Grimm had left in his clothes. “Damn. I kinda liked this shirt.”