[b]Martin Chestnut--Beacon Courtyard--Monday Morning[/b]

Martin had forgotten how much he hated air travel. The first few moments off of the airship were spent with him leaning, one arm against a nearby tree, staring at the ground and trying to avoid puking his guts out on the first flight trip of what would certainly be many. For the time being, he was going to have to face a few seconds of terrible motion sickness before his will reasserted itself. Might as well get the adapting over with now, before it actually would be a threat to his own safety and to that of whatever team he was assigned to.

The queasiness finally retreated, Martin shaking his head as he looked up. Students of all shapes, sizes, and walks of life were running, sauntering, or practically tiptoeing their way across the courtyard with varying degrees of confidence and glee. Frankly, Martin didn't see what was so emotionally exciting about the courtyard--sure, he could feel the slight flutter of emotion in his stomach like anyone else, but it was just an ordinary courtyard, albeit the yard of Beacon. He'd be far more enthusiastic about their first mission, or the opening ceremony itself.

Of course, his mind might just be keeping his level of excitement low to avoid agitating his stomach once again. He pushed off the tree, starting to walk into the courtyard proper and through the archway. He should probably get to know some people. Odds were he'd be on a different team than them, but at least if he knew some people nights wouldn't be so lonely.

As luck would have it, the first person he ran into was a girl standing in the archway and writing something in a notebook. Evidently, something had kept her back from the rest of the crowd now either lying on the grass or standing around the field and talking. He paused, brown eyes giving her a once over, then his attention returning to the yard ahead. He was torn. Sure, he could speak... But he of all people knew how much focus meant--and judging by the frenetic pace with which she was writing, it was an idea that couldn't wait. Martin popped his neck once, still gazing out into the middle of the courtyard, forming first impressions of those there... Either waiting for the girl to look up or procrastinating another walk on queasy legs, he couldn't exactly say which.

[@Flamelord]