Whiplash grinned as Shadowbird wrapped the torn cape around his hand. The grin only grew wider as she expressed her thoughts about his failed mordhau. He scratched his neck, taking a chance to glance at the cracked watch that sat on his wrist. Lunchtime had finished a minute or so ago, and Whiplash had no excuse to leave for once.

He breathed a sigh of relief after Shadowbird took her leave first. He turned to the sheepish policeman from before, helping him lift Envy into the back of a police trucking and securing one or two, or three handcuffs around her. He did a pseudo salute before getting into a stance similar to that of an Olympic sprinter getting ready for the starting gun. As quickly as he had appeared he was gone, a blue blur streaking through the city faster than the fastest bullet. 

He changed quickly after he got home. But there was still the problem of his hair and tattoos, he would have to run back to school if he wanted to make it in time, but covering up would be a problem. He but the corner of his thumb, looking around his room as if he was trying to find the holy grail.

Then it hit him. It wasn't a great plan, but it would have to do. He grabbed a baseball cap, spun it backwards and planted it on his head. He pulled on a baseball tee and some jeans before re-bandaging his hand with some proper gauze and sprinting off back to school. 

It seemed that the time Austin had wasted getting changed and putting on fresh gauze had cost him 15 minutes of class time. He breathed in deeply, turning the handle of the door and stepping in, his air of confidence practically filling the room as he puffed out his chest in an effort to look taller. He made the vainest of efforts to quietly move to his desk before Mr. Drake pounced on him like a leopard.
"Mr. Savage, is there a reason why you're so late?" The question reverberated through Austin's mind as he racked up an excuse.
[color=6ecff6]"Uh, I was helping an old man fix his car. It's where I got the cut"[/color] He said, raising his wounded hand. That was one of his better excuses, far better than the one about him fighting terrorists. Drake just gave him a sort of look, if he didn't have the cut it would be a surefire detention, but it seemed to serve as evidence enough. He simply made a motion with his pen before continuing the lesson. Austin sat down and rested his head in his hands as his hair slowly transitioned from blue to black under his cap.