Benjamin Lloyd: PE “Careful, angry classmates are more worrying than Sitting Bulls or Wendigo cubs.” Ben commented to Aurellius with a joking grin as he stepped into the room. In the back of his head, he had to admit that he didn’t entirely disagree with the other student. He wasn’t nearly suicidal enough to actually say it out loud, not with one of his own female teammates present. He’d hurried to PE as soon as the bell rang, just after passing off a second copy of the notes to Sangue and wishing both she and Trad luck in the next class. They’d actually split up, if he recalled their schedules correctly, so he and Amy were the only BAST members with a teammate in their class. For this period, at least. He didn’t quite remember if it changed for the next class. BAST’s leader had taken the time to change along the way, donning black exercise pants and a light weight gray t-shirt. It showed more of his physique than usual, but what did he expect? Anything light enough for PE was going to be a step down from his usual attire. Lawnslot and Artorius were tucked into the bag he’d been carrying earlier, just visible poking out from the top. He didn’t really know of anywhere to properly stow them, yet, and he wasn’t really inclined to simply leave them in a hallway locker. So in with his books and notes they went, carefully tucked into a locker in the boys’ locker room. Out in the main area, he stretched slightly in place. Grimm Studies had been a fantastic warm-up, even if longer ago than he would have really liked, and it didn’t take very long at all to get his muscles moving again. After a moment’s thought, he crossed towards Amy and her new acquaintance, raising a hand in greeting. “Hey, Amy. And hello, miss…?”

Trad – Practice The bell sounded almost simultaneously as Diamond struck the Itzamna with a shadow bat. Trad was actually disappointed to hear it. Sitting and watching these fights was a great learning experience, but he was ready to put what he had learned to the test but it didn’t look like that would happen today. With a quick look at his scroll, his enthusiasm returned. Practice, a place where he could improve on combat skills he was lacking. PE wasn’t very necessary, years of carrying lumber to his parent’s workshop had given Trad a rather large build, he probably could have wrestled some of those Grimm from earlier. While survival did peak his interest at first, he decided honing his skills would be a better use of his time. Giving Ben and Sangue a salute with two fingers he headed towards the practice field, Trad realized he was the first there. It made sense. Port brought the Grimm studies class outside so Trad had a head start, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he beat the teacher here. Looking around at the obstacles, balance beams, and wall jumpers, Trad began having second thoughts about all this, he wasn’t exactly limber. The target range gave him much needed relief. Trad knew how to load and fire a gun without much of a problem. He walked to the rack of rifles in from of the targets and began examining them.

Greyson- survival Greyson sighed as the class finally ended knowing his next class would be survival which Greyson would take more seriously considering that this class could mean the difference of life and death out in the wild without communication to the outside. Greyson kept thinking about those horror movies and how if someone knew do to this and to tell the scared one to shut up and listen they would all live happily ever after. Greyson wasn't going to be ignorant when the times comes to put these skills to the test. Greyson walked into class and sat down and when he did he took out his notebook and pencil and got ready to write down whatever the professor decided to discuss...

Robert exited from the Grimm Studies class, thinking on three questions he had. One, why didn't he get picked? Was it because the teacher didn't think him ready? Was it some other reason he couldn't think of? Robert was pretty sure he was the third person to raise his hand. So why wasn't he picked? Second, why was Greyson staring so much at Priscilla that the teacher had to call him out on it? Robert still hadn't put two and two together and continued onto his third thought. Finally, why was that one guy from team MODA go and basically butcher that Sitting Bull? Sure it was a Grimm, but everything about the battle seemed over-the-top brutal. Watching the Sitting Bull get stabbed repeatedly made Robert feel... uneasy. He was sure that if he seen it in a movie or something he would have greatly enjoyed it, thinking it awesome and cool. Seeing it in person, knowing it was real and not just CGI or a costume was different though. Robert physically shook his head as if doing so would some how make the image of the dying Sitting Bull leave his mind. He looked up to see Priscilla walking in the same direction of the Practice class, and couldn't help but feel excited that he got another class to spend with her. Robert thought back on why he had chosen the classes he did as he caught up to Priscilla. He had chosen Grimm Studies over Armory because he had figured that finding and exploiting a Grimm's weaknesses fit much more with his fighting style than blasting away indiscriminately. He didn't choose P.E. because he hated any exercise that didn't actually provide any benefit beyond just the basic benefits of exercise. So that left Practice and Survival, which he finally decided that having better combat skills would be better than knowing how to survive in the outdoors. Then, there was Language, Computer Science, or Music. This had been the easiest choice so far. Robert knew nothing more than the basics of computers and he knew far less about Music. So that left Language. Finally, there were the extra classes, which Robert wanted no part of. Six periods were enough for him. When Robert reached where the Practice class would be taught, he couldn't help but think that this would be a lot harder than he had initially thought. "Ah, this looks like fun," he said sarcastically. As he gave the area a second look though, noticing now the obstacle courses, firing range, etc., he decided to give the class a second chance. "Actually, this doesn't look half-bad."

Diamond froze midway her stretch. Somebody who she didn't introduce herself to called her out by name. Good lords did someone from before recognize her? Just how much hush money would they want? The voice seemed familiar enough. She was sure it wasn't anyone from Juvy. No it had to have been from before. A client? Hardly, she never shown her face when she had to attend striking a deal in person. It wasn't safe that way. It had to have been someone whom she contracted herself. Wait... She stood straight and turned around to confirm her suspicion. Her hands promptly went to her face to keep her jaw from hanging agape. "A-Amy?" she said as she did a double take. Her memory raced to recall and match the face. Yeah, it was quite some time but the resemblance was there. Diamond took a few steps closer. Usually she would have made a remark when she heard Aurelius, probably something about him just being jealous of her dynamite body, but right now she barely noticed hims peaking. "After well over two years you finally show up again," she said towards the other woman, "And that's all I get? You wound me." she inquired with a half smirk. When Amy's teammate shown up, she nodded to him: "Frost. Diamond Frost."

Running late for the first class wasn't exactly the best first impression, but life wasn't quite as kind to Ahriman as he'd want at the moment. Clipboard in hand, he made way into the classroom, eyes locking onto each of his students. The room itself was a rather large stadium, indoor track field circling half of the entire gym. The other half contained a practice basketball court, waxed and polished just this weekend as per request from Ahriman. In the midst of the track were various gymnastics equipment, of which a lot of the smaller equipment lay in a large storage closet just in the hall near the locker rooms. There were other rooms branching off the gym, one side leading to the indoor pool and the other to the weightlifting room, part of which could be partitioned off for a more personable class, i.e. yoga, aerobics, and various other things. Everything was where it should have been, placed precisely with the correct number of equipment (all even numbers) and everything looking scrubbed clean about five or ten times depending on who was asked. There wasn't much in terms o decoration aside from what Beacon tended to put up on behalf of honorary athletes and the like, things Ahriman didn't pay much mind to as there was no real need. Decked in a pair of Beacon provided ensemble, a pair of black track pants and grey t-shirt, looking far more casual than he usually did, but sweating in formal clothing didn't make the list of things to do that day. Behind him, trailing with his suitcase all buckled tight and other hand grasping a paper bag, Solomon gave a wave to the students already prepping for class. He leaned over, pointing over to the far corner of the gym where Ahriman's office lay. "I'll leave the left overs in there," Solomon said, before turning further to address the class—Ahriman turned him further, so he actually faced most of them, instead of half the class. "Watch him for me, you guys and try not to let him push you around too much. Guy's got antlers up to here, but they're mostly just for show," he reached out to tug on one, only to get his hand swatted. With that note he made off toward the other side of the gym, a light haze floating out like tendrils around him. With that, Ahriman cleared his throat before bringing the clipboard to his front as he examined it. He roll called quickly before marking everyone down and turning his full focus onto the class before him. "Fitness to a hunter is of utmost importance, I'm assuming most of you know that," Ahriman began, tilting his head to the side a little, "Your health, both mental and physical, are things you'll need to learn exactly how to take care and I'm positive we'll accomplish that, as long as we all focus on the material and put effort toward our work. Over the course of the year and semester, there are quite a few things we'll be going over, from regular sports to routine work outs to diet and regular exercising. I intend to keep all of you well in shape and, hopefully, teach each and every one of you how to properly look after yourselves and your well being." Looking back down at the clipboard in his hand, Ahriman gave a small hum. "As for who I am, I'd prefer if you call me Mr. Kore, for the sake of my sanity, and yours, possibly," he spoke, "Aside from that, we should definitely get this class going; I won't make a habit of being late, you can be assured of that." Turning he stopped mid stride before looking back at the class, eyes narrowed, "And if you have any ailments, I would definitely appreciate being told before you have an asthmatic attack or strenuous activity causes you to go into cardiac arrest." "It's happened twice," Solomon waved, making his way to the exit to avoid Ahriman's glare. Though he did, Ahriman merely gave a nod and made for the track equipment. "We'll start the day with a few laps, then," Ahriman spoke, "Expect me to push you to your limits this week: I want to know how much each of you are capable of. If you hate me for it, at least you'll be healthier while doing so." He snapped a finger, signalling for the class to move toward the doors outside where the larger track field and other outdoor sports fields lay just behind the campus buildings and large gym. It was certainly nice outside and Ahriman was one for fresh air rather than being forced to remain stuffy and cramped. Antlers, especially ones as large as his this time of year, would do that to a person. "You all are capable," he mused, "Two miles. Would prefer to keep this under fifteen."

Pavel sat on a large rock on the second floor of his run down concrete building. His campfire spot lay empty, the ring of small stones marking where the fire usually is. Piles of varying wood surround it, tinder, sticks, firewood logs. Today was the first day of class, he was told, he welcomed the young ones. He kept on strumming his guitar, playing a classic amongst his kind. He paused to take a sip out of a bottle containing a clear liquid, then continued playing again. Some students began to arrive, but Pavel just continued to play, only saying, "Take a seat, we will start soon. If you are hungry, have a bite." in his Eastern Slavic accent. He nodded towards a couple unmarked cans of food. Armory was not as expected. There was a lot of drama, needless, Ineko thought to himself, if people had kept their calm. He would have been an advocate towards calming down, but there was too much for him to take in. The chatter of the machines present only grew louder as they spoke about various topics. He tried to listen to the tank, and got some dialogue from her, to which he did. She was a somewhat vulgar tank, but nevertheless, Ineko wanted to talk to her. Although he did have opposition from that sort of thing before, many hunters in training often thought him crazy. The lesson, although cut a little short, taught Ineko a couple of things he didn't know about Dust. Previously, all Ineko knew was that it was volatile, and a fuel, pretty much. Elemental properties were lost on him until today, and he looked forward to future lessons. Less so towards future conflict. Ineko, having previously mapped out the campus, walked right to the concrete building that the Survival class was taking place. He thought it was a pretty strange place to host a classroom. He stepped into the dirty building, it was more like an abandoned building than the classroom he was lead to believe. He climbed up a flight of stairs to follow the sound of guitar, and upon entering, a man, presumably Professor Vorosky, was playing the guitar. "Come, come, sit." Ineko did, albeit a somewhat slowly. This was not what he expected.

Sangue Naga - Grimm Studies After Grimm Studies ended, Sangue humbly received a second pair of notes Ben took before scurrying off to her Survival class in silence. Her face remained idle, but in truth, she felt a bit of gratitude to her leader. Her silence never changing, the woman arrived at a very... old building. Strange. Perhaps it was because she followed around random people that she arrived in a warehouse of some sort. She then realized that it was actually her class, much to her luck. Various firearms were placed at a corner, and the teacher played a guitar. Due to her inability to use firearms (along with her lack of limbs to use anything other than handguns), she found the entire corner filled with weapons to be uninteresting and proceeded to take a seat at the class. The woman liked the guitar, contrary to her appearance. Sangue Naga slowly let her Apophis Claw increase its length, her hand on the object, before putting it on her lap, fidgeting with the piece of metal. The metal had become a little rusty, but it was still in a usable condition. She hoped to eventually clean it up some time before she starts going on missions.

Name: Marcus Goldstein Location: Armoury class => Practice Status: Good Outside of the dramatic reveals, Armoury class was actually rather soothing to Marcus. Just routine maintenance, something to keep his thoughts focused while not being too taxing. Before the hour was gone he had figured out what caused problems with the left tread. It was simple really. Somewhere during their little romp in the woods the remains of a tree stump had lodged itself between the hull and the main drive wheel. However the drive train had so much grunt behind it that it had started to grind down the wood to mulch rather than jam. Once the massive clod of dirt and roots had been pried free with the liberal application of grease and a large crowbar, it ran like clockwork once more. Marcus was so engrossed in his work he didn’t notice the bell had rung until the teacher physically tapped him on the shoulder. One profuse apology later, he reversed the Unsubtle out of the classroom and drove towards the firing range. While the tank rode, Marcus was still seated on the engine deck as he hastily bolted the tread guards back on. “Good afternoon.” he greeted the rest of class as the Unsubtle settled in place. A couple of more twists of the wrench and that bolt was back in place, just two more to go.

Gren Orchid - Survival Class

Armory did not go as well has he'd hoped. One emotional incident and the entire class had been derailed. He hoped this wasn't going to become a regular occurrence. He'd hate to have to lose class time to deal with every student's melodrama. At least he was able to lay out the ground works for a new weapon project he had before the class was dismissed. The teacher had said everyone physically involved in the incident was going to receive a punishment, though Gren wasn't sure if he was one of the guilty. He hadn't done much, but perhaps it was too much anyways. He stayed quiet and simply left the class. If he was to be punished, than they know where to find him. He did hear, before leaving, the professor call out Sapphire for being initially absent. Gren hadn't noticed but than again his team leader had a tendency to wander. Wouldn't do her any good to leave class just because the teacher stepped out however. But she was responsible for herself and surely shouldn't cause any trouble... At least nothing she can't take care of. The next class Gren found himself in was Survival. He had followed the path of overgrowth and the sound of a guitar strumming to find the class in a old building. Only a few others had arrived so far and none form his team. Either they had different classes or he was the first to arrive. The teacher, the one playing the guitar, invited the students to sit and eat. Gren wasn't hungry however but he did take a spot near the fire. Gren had to take The God Eater off his back and set it down in Gren's lap. He gazed into the fire momentarily, thinking about the past. "Fire... My old friend..."

Geni Hung - PE Geni's eyebrows knitted when he noticed Ivan walk into the gym and found a place to do his own stretch's. At that moment Geni felt a rush of emotions, rage, pity, remorse, disappointment. It was like this guy catered his schedule just to always end up with Geni. You no that's not true. Geni thought to himself. Geni sighed and raked his hands through his hair, this class had gotten unbearable all of a sudden. Geni eyes flicked over to the entrance when 2 men walked into the gym. He stood up and walked down the bleachers, doing his best to stuff his drawing in his pocket as he jumped down each stair. He assumed that he was they were the teachers, so it was beast he got down were they could see him. Geni placed his hands in his pocket and leaned back on his heels as the man talked. he could not help but chuckle when the man asked them to let him know if they had any aliments. He could just imagine someone collapsing in the middle of a game. Geni groaned when he heard that they would be doing a few laps. He had no problem running, he loved it, but only when he wanted to, and he did not want right know. Geni sighed as he followed the teacher outside the gym onto the track. The sudden burst of bright light made his eyes water, he immediately wiped it away not wanting anyone to think otherwise. "2 miles" the couch mused. Geni felt a twinge of annoyance, that was a lot of running. Geni simply growled under his breath, and took of running down the track. He was not sprinting, but he was running fast enough to be ahead of the other students. He made sure that he applied what he had learned about running, he concentrated on softening the sound of his foot when it hit the ground. Shortening the amount of time that his foot was in contact with the ground, and making sure that his upper and lower body were always in sync. He took light breaths through his nose as he ran. Easy run, its only about...8 laps. He sighed as he ran and pushed ahead.

Amaranth, PE "Hey, our business relationship was terminated." Amy winked at Diamond almost imperceptibly. "I never expected to see you here, though. Diamond Frost as a huntress... Never thought-" And then she was interrupted by Agesander. She turned her attention to him, breath catching when she realized that both Ivan and Geni were in this class. Hopefully they wouldn't get into it again. Two miles, Agesander said. She could handle that amount of exertion, but... Amy definitely wasn't a fan of starting out with running. Still, she supposed it could be worse. It was a beautiful day outside, the campus was exquisite. Amy was not near as conscious of how she was running as Geni was-she had learned her running methods through a little too much experience-but she was still proficient at it.

"Not by my choice." Diamond replied in kind, dropping her voice so that only Amy and her Vulcan hearing would notice, "And I never expected Diamond Frost to be caught either." she hissed in annoyance. Her pride would probably never recover from that. She involuntarily shuddered. The teacher interrupted and apparently thought that the first part of them to be turned into jello would be legs. Oh well, she didn't exactly hate jogging, although she wished she brought her hat. The lack of the familiar weight on the top of her head was strange. "You know..." she spoke again as they went towards the line that marked the start, "have you ever thought of staying in the employ of just one person? I certainly would have given you that spot." the redhead smirked as she got ready at the line, waiting for the clock to reach a full minute so she could time her run. "I still might, although I suppose you'd have to go through an interview." she grinned. Just then the clock finally hit the mark and Diamond went ahead, leaving the company behind her. She finished in 10:56.

IC: Rowan Iderson, Practice A woman clothed from neck to feet in armor was standing at the entrance to the obstacle course, swiping through a Scroll. She sighed, putting the Scroll under her arm, then walked toward the students who had already gathered. "I'm Professor Iderson," she said, eyes watching them carefully. "Welcome to Practice. We have some ground rules we need to go over, but I need to clear up some misconceptions first. Namely, that this class is in fact just a practice session for you to come out on the targeting range and fire off a couple of rounds. It's not. This is still a class, and like the saying goes... Practice makes perfect. I expect all of you to try your absolute best, I will not accept anything less of you." She returned the Scroll to her hands, her attention returning to it. "Ground rules: The pointing of weapons at fellow students is expressly prohibited. Anyone caught aiming anything at anyone during this course will have their weapon confiscated and might face ejection, even if they were verbally provoked. Any incidents like the one in Armory last block will result in the ejection of the belligerents from the class. Semblance use is forbidden, unless it is necessary for you to function as an ordinary sentient being." She held up her hand to stop a student's complaint. "I'm here to train you, not your Semblance. Not yet. Later in the year, we will do a unit on Semblance combat. Until then, no." Her eyes moved to Marcus' vehicle. "I'm also in the odd position of having to deal with a tank. Same rules for mechanical aids as Semblances. I'll attempt to train you with the tank later in the year, until then... Grab a rifle from the rack and learn how to use it. On that topic, if any of you are lacking in a suitable weapon for this class, please see me while Esther is talking and I'll get a rifle assigned to you for the duration of your time in this course. We'll deal with weapon qualifications shortly. In the meantime, it's over to her." IC: Esther Vanhomrigh, 5th Period Practice Class Black boots gracefully striding through the green grass, Esther emerged from the treeline. The brim of her cover pulled low that her eyes were partially shrouded from the beaming sunlight. Moving swiftly, Rowan's aide stood at her side and turned to face the students. Raising her head, Esther's brown eyes made eye contact with each and every student. Lingering for a brief moment as she evaluated them and made her personal judgements based on their appearances. White gloved hands folded behind her back, she moved and pulled her Scroll from her coat's pocket and expanded it into tablet form. Swiping at the screen, she pulled up the class roster of attending students and briefly familiarized herself with their names. For a moment, she contemplated calling role, but decided against it. Collapsing her Scroll, she pocketed it and quietly cleared her throat. Standing proud and tall next to Professor Iderson, her voice boomed from her chest as she spoke. If she had a megaphone, she would've surely deafened the young students. Her voice carrying impressive distance, though they were outside. "As Professor Iderson had already said, welcome to 5th Period Practice Class! To expound on what was said, there are five rules though they are not all inclusive. First, you will treat all of your weapons as if they were loaded and dangerous. Tools though they may be in your hands, they are still capable of causing harm and thusly, you will treat them with respect. Not as toys." She paused for a brief moment before continuing. "Second, you will not brandish or point your weapons at anything you have no intention of absolutely destroying. Third, unless currently using your weapons or firing them, you will keep all weapons holstered, slung, and your grubby little fingers off of any triggers if your weapons have a firing mechanism. She paused for a second time. "Fourth, for those of you who have firing mechanisms in your weapons, your weapons will be unloaded and on 'safe' unless currently on the firing line at the range. Finally, when you engage your designated targets, you will be wary of your suroundings. Take heed, friendly fire, isn't. It wouldn't do you any good if you take out allies and innocents in addition to destroying your enemy and causing unnecessary collateral damage." She reached up with a white gloved hand and absently adjusted the brim of her cover. As she continued to speak, the volume of her voice somehow seemed to increase. "These are basic rules. Laws, if you will. If you break any of these or attempt to skirt and skate around them, I will break you. Your weapons will be confiscated, disassembled and cast aside. You will pay a trip to the Infirmary depending on the severity of the infraction, and you will be expelled from the class to be rescheduled into a different class at a later day." She glanced back at Professor Iderson. Turning back to the students, her brown eyes seemed to burn with an intense and fierce fire. "We will tolerate no disrespect. You will address Professor Iderson as only such, she earned her title and her place here at Beacon. You, have not. You will address me as Ms. Vanhomrigh. If you cannot correctly pronounce my name, then ma'am will suffice. Spare me the headache of hearing your piss poor attempts at butchering my given name. Interruptions, falling asleep, lack of paying attention, and general rudeness will be dealt with accordingly. You waste our time, we'll waste yours." "Know that you were all merely 'accepted'. Make no mistake, none of you are important. None of you, whoever you may have been outside of Beacon, matter. Here, you are merely students. Here, in our hands, you are crude lumps of coal. Over the period of this class, under the intense pressure and heat of the training we will be placing you though, you will be compressed into rough diamonds. Over time, we will trim and cut the fat out of your disgusting bodies and help you to shine as true Huntsmen. As polished Diamonds." She took another brief pause. "Here, you will take all that you think you 'know' and apply them. Be you from Grimm Studies or Armory, here is where you will take all that you've learned and hone your skills. With that being said, if any of you have qualms...leave. We will not accept any half-assed attempts to slime through our class. If you have weak constitutions, leave. If you have an aversion to physical effort, pain, blood, sweat, and tears...leave. If you do not intend on taking this class seriously, if you think you can joke and play around in our class, leave. We will arrange for your schedule to be altered later. We only want those who truly wish to be here. If do not think you belong in our class, this is your one and only chance to change your minds. Otherwise, you will be leaving on a stretcher. I will personally make sure of that for those of you who misbehave." She took a soft breath, she hated droning on and on. She didn't like talking too much. "But, for those of you who make the decision to stay, then we welcome you. Your time here will not be wasted. Professionals do not train until they get it right. They train, until they can't get it wrong. In our class, your bones will cry out in pain. Your joints will creak. Your pathetic, puny muscles will ache. You will get tired. You will get dirty. Make no doubts about that. " Briefly reviewing her words, Esther believed she hit up all of the important points. Turning to Professor Iderson, she motioned to her with a gloved hand. "I turn the class back over to Professor Iderson. You will begin your first day with a run through one of the obstacle courses. After you are all good and worn out, you will be conducting a string of fire at our firing range to give us an idea of your current physical ability and aptitude with firearms." Taking a few steps back, she stood off to the side slightly behind Professor Iderson. Silently judging the students based on their reactions to her words. IC:Rowan Iderson, Practice If Rowan was fazed or shocked at all by what Esther had said, she didn't show it. "In short, this is likely to be the hardest, most excruciating class you have, but also the most rewarding. I don't hate you, nor do I enjoy inflicting pain, but the only way that you'll learn and become the kind of Huntsmen that we need is by pushing yourself beyond your breaking point, then picking up the pieces and going farther still. By choosing this class you've decided to follow a more difficult path than most of your classmates, and I applaud you for it. This will not be easy, but it is not impossible. Two more minor notes, and we can get started. The grading scale in this class is simple. If you are still in this class at the end of the year, you pass. Otherwise, you fail. And, finally, I will not assign homework. If you fail to make your weekly target for obstacle course time and shooting range score, however, I will expect you to show up after hours to practice. The range is open to anyone so long as I or Esther is here." A smile appeared on Rowan's face, though whether it was sadistic or friendly was impossible to tell. "Welcome to Practice. Let's get started."

ARMOURY to P.E. The back and forth between him and Rayna almost made him laugh. Victor knew he was on thin ice, but he wasn't especially fearful since Rayna was far too much fun for that and well he couldn't really imagine her with an angry face. Questioning Victor probed "Anymore? So you had a rank then? Well regardless, you are my Captain right? Your wish is my command and all that Oh Captain my Captain." Humming away to himself Victor reassembled his prosthetic, happy that he could repair it with proper tools. Unlike removing it, connecting his arm gave Victor a rather different experience. The dread of loss is replaced with the tolerance of pain, as once it is connected the arm starts it's work of activating it's artificial nerves, giving Victor the sensation of being next to an open fire for the first five minutes. It was annoying and made him want to run it under cold water, even though he knew it was rather pointless. Once it cooled off Victor stretched and tested it's mobility. Pleased he started tapping each of his fingers and was happy with the feedback he got from the small hits. Just in time too since the bell rang out soon after his last tests. "Well Captain, I have P.E. now. So I'm heading that way. I better hurry up, it would be rather impolite to be late. I'll see you when I see you next." with a smile and a wave Victor wandered off to get changed. It actually took longer than Victor intended to get changed, his own shirts generally had larger sleeves to accommodate his arm, but Beacon issued uniforms were average, making him be extra careful and take those extra few seconds. Coming out of the change room Victor tried to keep his run stable. Since a metal arm is heavier than a normal arm and although he can keep pace with most people, Victor's stride was rather... unbalanced when compared to others. Listening to Mr. Kore Victor was a bit concerned about the talk about asthmatic attacks and heart attacks. It's fairly obvious what I have, but beyond that... I don't think I have any issues. Wait... two miles? Well that's... doable I suppose, although Captain Rayna already led me on a marathon turned scavenger hunt. As everyone started off, Victor stalled a bit, but soon had his engine running. The weight of Victor's arm made him have an inefficient run, causing him to have a slight zig-zag pattern to it. A single sentence flashed through his mind You're like a drunk dog trying to find his tail Vicky! smiling he decided to stay close to the back of the pack, in an effort to avoid any unfortunate collisions.

Sapphire was tempted to throw something sharp at Aurellius but alas she'd neglected to bring any small sharp disposable weapons to PE. She of course still had her daggers but she preferred to keep those under wraps. Not everyone in the arena would have been able to see where she'd gotten them from given the angles of sight present in her and Oswald's sparring match and besides if the teacher saw her pull out deadly weapons in class she may be prevented from bringing them again and Sapphire never went anywhere unarmed.

Sapphire got slightly nervous when the teacher ordered them to run two miles. That was several laps around the track, it was not that Sapphire was not used to running or even that she disliked it, on the contrary nothing really compared to the feeling of the wind in her hair, the problem was the rib she'd broken in Forever Fall during their initiation. It would need another week to heal properly. During armoury it had disturbed her how quickly she'd become out of breath because of that rib. If she couldn't run, if she couldn't move faster than the next strike, she was done for.

However Sapphire Rode was not someone disposed to complaining or letting injury remove her from the field of battle. She'd grown up in a home where injury was no excuse for skipping combat training. So she began to run.

Sapphire kept her torso as straight as she could to compensate and made her best efforts to keep from breathing too hard on her left side. She could manage two miles, it was easy. Yet something was wrong, normally she'd outstrip most anyone, even Geni who was currently running ahead with impeccable technique but now she was barely managing to keep up with the middle of the pack. Her chest was burning, pain climbing with every breath she took. When they were past the mile and a half marker Sapphire slowed before her legs gave out beneath her, she collapsed to her knees but refused to let herself fall completely. Sapphire was shaking all over and her breath was coming in ragged. Maybe it would have been better to sit this one out.

Oswald Connoly: Armory --->Survival Sapphire's guess on how Oswald's Semblance worked was disturbingly accurate, but she was a bit off on why he hadn't used it during their match. Before he could reply, though, the girl was already making her way to her next class. Shrugging, he decided that it was about time he made his way to Survival, then. Making sure he had all of his belongings, he made his way to the run-down building that served as the Survival classroom. It was a fitting place for a survival class, at the very least. As he entered the classroom proper, Oswald noticed someone who could only be the professor playing the guitar while sitting on a rock. The room itself was....minimalistic. A single desk, some noticeably old weapons, and a mattress with a sleeping bag. Wait...did the professor actually live here? He'd had temporary camps more ornate than this. Still, if the professor wanted them to experience this style of camping, he wouldn't refuse. Survival skills were a necessity in the wild.

Two miles was easy. He did more strenuous runs on the cool mornings in Vale, where he could get hour-long jogs around the city with little concern for the impending day. He started slowly, then began to increase speed with every lap, his long legs helping him outpace nearly everyone who wasn't trying exceptionally hard. As he ran, his thoughts drifted back to the disastrous Armory class and the comment that the daughter of the general had made: He'd gained quite a number of enemies. Ivan frowned through his carefully regulated breathing.Enemies implied that they'd go out of their way to hurt him. Which meant that between the teams at Beacon, there was now a rift. Which meant- He nearly tripped as the person ahead of him stumbled and fell, shaking the would-be athlete from his thoughts. A quick glance told him that it was Sapphire, and that she was in pain. Ivan, against his better judgement, slowed to a halt next to his irksome classmate with an expression halfway between concern and annoyance, carefully keeping just a bit out of the injured girl's reach as he knelt down, lightly panting from the exertion of his run. "Hey, you alright?"

Trad – Basic Training Practice As Trad looked over the rifles, he felt the ground begin to rumble. Was there a tremor hitting the school? No. No it was a tank. Someone was literally driving a tank on the practice ground. Forgetting about the rifles, he walked over to the now parked behemoth. “Well, I guess you won’t be having much trouble going through the obstacle courses.” He remarked looking over the vehicle, stopping when he saw the mounted weapons, “Or the shooting range for that matter.” When Professor Iderson spoke, Trad turned to give her his full attention. While she spoke and looked calm, her words were far from. Ground rules, prohibition of semblances, and zero tolerance for quarrels. While he didn’t expect to get in a fight, from what she said it sounded like the Armory class already had. As for his semblance, that was only needed for emergencies anyway. Iderson then turned things over to her aid Esther. Esther and Goodwitch must have attended the same intimidation seminar, her stare alone was almost enough for Trad to stand at attention. Then she spoke. Her voice shook the ground more than the tank! Every word felt like it forced itself into Trads mind and imprinted so he would never forget. As she finished he turned his gaze to the obstacle courses. Trying to determine which one he’d do best at. Or better yet, actually complete.

Abel -=- Survival

So intent was Abel on finding the Survival classroom, that at first, he missed it. When he reached the edge of campus and found only a quaint, decrepit structure that should have been condemned, he was momentarily confused, and skirted around the rustic building to see if he wasn't missing something. Out here, the bell that marked fourth period's inception was somewhat muted due to distance, and in any case Abel was beginning to acclimate to it. A bird, twittering furiously, shot out from a hole in the architecture as the guardian rounded a corner, causing him to jump. He watched it go, identifying by its red breast that it was a robin before peering into the hole it had flown from out of curiosity. Once again he was surprised, this time to find out that the rickety building was in fact occupied. “I'll be...” he muttered, and hurried to find the entrance. In a way, the setup of the Survival class was far more welcoming than the other, more official classrooms. Neglected architecture, bare facilities, and ragtag supplies were the conditions that Abel and all the hunters-in-training could expect out in the field. Having a classroom that embodied these conditions proved that the teacher certainly knew his stuff. As Abel entered, using the Ampere like a walking stick, he spotted the professor and examined him briefly. Rather than the usual sort of formal wear prevalent with other teachers, Mr. Vorosky was outfitted in what looked like full combat regalia, complete with camouflage and enough small pouches to carry a two-course dinner. Sure, it was strange, but it made the guy seem real, down to earth, even. The professor must have felt Abel's eyes on him, for he briefly addressed all the students. Abel nodded and sat against one of the vertical pillars holding the building together. Under normal circumstances he might have been interested in the canned food, but he had finished a hearty salad only an hour and ten minutes ago, so he declined Vorosky's offer. -=-=- “Believe me when I say that these don't add up,” Fullbuster insisted. He lapped a hand against the papers laying on Ozpin's desk before reaching up to tweak his mustache. “Sure, he did well during the initiation ceremony, but here's a difference between failing a test and being given a second chance, and cheating a test and letting the cheater get away with it. “You don't need to tell me,” Ozpin's expression was a mixture of resignation and irritation. So much drama in such a short time wore away at even his steely nerves. “I hate to deny a student his dream, but an obsession with being the best is unbecoming of an individual willing to forge his own documents to achieve it. I'll make the announcement.” Across the school, the intercom system suddenly went online, and through the speakers reverberated the smooth voice of the headmaster. “Indigo Kafka, please report to the principle's office. Once again, that is Indigo Kafka.” Ozpin pushed himself away from the speaker on his desk, switching it off. His sigh caused the documents to stir, as if fluttering like a trapped moth to free itself. “At least now we finally know what to do with poor Miss Russet. I believe that Solomon is with her now; call him on his scroll and have him bring her in, please. We'll get her schedule finalized and station her on team Silverpoint in Indigo's place. We're going to have to change the team name, unfortunately, but at least we caught it early this time. Perhaps Silverfish would work.” Algernon Fullbuster nodded, leaving his mustache alone at last. “I'll let Solomon know. I had better get back to class. Knowing the kids, they'll try to invoke their fifteen-minute rule. Funny how no matter how generations I tell, there still is no such rule. Farewell!”