The first official day of the semester had arrived all too early. Gray skies hinting at rain and a bitterly cold gusts of wind cut down to the bone. Like any start of the school year for a real loser. It was still early in the morning and the new crop of students would be milling in within the next few hours to begin their true last chance.
If they passed his initial examination they would find an opportunity to grow as heroes but if they lacked the will to rise from the gutters, well.. Lorken would toss them out like the human trash they were. This was how it was at the bottom of the barrel.

Strength could only raise you so high.

His room was pristine in appearance. Everything he needed was laid out on the side table and hanging up in his closet. Tossing aside the thick white covers, Lorken mulled over the details he had been given as he went about his daily routine. First a shower, then a shave, put on his custom tailored suit, and proceed to the kitchen for a simple breakfast of eggs and bacon.
Sitting at the large wood table with his notepad out he browsed through the various notes on each student that would be trying for a position at L.O.S.E.R. More than a few had him idly staring at the pages while he toyed with the sharp horns on his forehead.

"Some of these quirks are useless to the hero business. Standing still? Water absorption? A cruel hand dealt to mere children.."

Musing aloud to the empty room was something of a habit for him. Helped focus his thoughts by hearing them stated out loud. Every flip of the notepad laid out a good image of what to expect but Lorken merely rubbed his chin in thought. There was always more to someone than appearances made you believe.
Closing the notepad and securing it back in the pocket of his vest, he donned his coat and wide-brimmed hat before making his way out to the front steps. Less than a dozen had been sent to him for a variety of reasons and he was going to make sure they knew what to expect. A shuttle would pick them up from a major train stop and bring them to this location within the next hour.

---------------
@Duoya@Kuma@Blu@Mercurial@GodOfWar@Prewiga

The shuttle ride was less of a bus ride and more of a guide to hitch-hiking. A large flatbed truck had pulled up with LOSER tastefully written along either side of the vehicle. Its driver was a man in his fifties with a beard that almost reached his belt buckle, streaks of gray cutting into his dark brown hair. After a quick exchange of names to verify the ones getting in were on his list, the students-to-be were told to sit in the back.

The ride itself was bumpy but the weather held up along the way to their destination. Bustling city streets gave way to rural housing, high rise apartments becoming scattered until disappearing altogether, until the only scenery they could see was tall trees in every direction. The clouds were parting by the time they left the city proper and now that they were on the outskirts of town it was almost a warm summer day despite it being September.
Turning off the roads and down a smooth dirt road, the truck traveled through the woods until a clearing of the forest revealed the school.

On the front steps with a cigar in his mouth stood the teacher. Lorken was a tall and stiff backed kind of man with piercing red eyes, they almost seemed to cut right through you even from a distance. His body language spoke of a familiarity in being the top of the food chain. One look at the grimace etched across his otherwise cold expression was enough to make most folks cautious.
If that didn't, then the horns and claws usually did a good enough job.

When the truck came to a complete stop the driver banged on the roof of the vehicle before shouting out orders.

"Line up side to side at the bottom of the stairs. Give your name up one at a time. The boss doesn't like to be kept waiting."

As the last student touched ground, the truck took off the way it had come in a hurry.

Karada tried his best to fit in among the rabble that were awaiting the bus to L.O.S.E.R. Although, being a blond, blue-eyed, relatively tall young man in an impressive suit who was part of a scandal that reached national news outlets... It was harder than he expected. In order to ignore the horrible situation he found himself in, Karada instead decided to focus on his surroundings: they were on a fairly vacant road, already nearly on the outskirts of town. The forests were visible at a distance... The location itself was only a block away from the homeless shelter, and Karada quickly began to pray that no one asked him for a handout. After all, he only had 200,000 Yen left to his name, and he planned on making it last as long as humanely possible. Karada was one of the first to arive, as expected considering he had to fly out to this town... Waiting all alone took forever, but slowly, more people began to join him in the wait. Karada counted 5 people, not including himself, and was waiting exasperatedly for the rest of the class to come. I mean, surely this wasn't it? Karada pulled out and lit a cigarette, a habit he has developed when waiting impatiently.

After another 30 minutes of waiting, a decrepit old truck slowly began to pull up to the group of 6, and the window rolled down to reveal a man who was at least in his fifties, as evident by his massive beard. W...Was that his quirk? And this man is a staff member?

...

Noticing quickly how the man appeared to have a random assortment of paperwork, food and half-drunken beverages, Karada realized that he expected EVERYONE to ride in the back... Karada briefly considered whether this was even legal, but he slowly made his way to the flatbed and, after 2 attempts, got himself onto the shaky surface. Walking himself to the far back, as far as he could get from any of the sides and risk being thrown out of the truck, Karada slowly kneeled down, sitting on the dusty and dirty flatbed. This is going to be a bitch to clean... Karada thought, glancing down at his poor suit pants. Karada glanced at his future classmates taking them in, doing his best to analyze them and their potential threat to him. Some were especially easy to pick out, such as the shirtless young man with horns who seemed to have an animal based quirk. Possibly communication with rams or goats? Or maybe it was an enhancement quirk, and it had the aesthetics of an animal? Another, more tanned student had harpoons dangling from his arms, near the shoulder... Whether they were prehensile or not would change the power of such as quirk by tenfold...

The rest of the students seemed to be like him, and were not mutants. As such, it would be impossible to actually tell what their quirk was without outright asking, and the thought was impossible for a young man that was raised in a high class environment, such as Karada. There only appeared to be a single female student out of the bunch, and Karada was sure to keep her in his peripheral vision at all time. He would have also used his quirk, but being on a moving vehicle made that option impossible.

Karada realized he was so busy investigating the other students that he completely forgot that the surroundings were slowly shifting. The trees were now all around them, and the oppressive gray sky was ready to downpour at any moment. Luckily, the winds didn't bother Karada that much. He was used to the cold, and his suit provided him with a slight protection against the cold. The scene reminded him of youth, being locked outside of the house while dinner parties were being held by his parents... Reading and playing with the family dogs... Sleeping in the rain because he did something wrong... Nursing wounds...

Karada slowly removed and put out he cigarette. The filter felt white hot to the touch, which wasn't caused by the heat of the flame. The suits materials pricked him like needles, leaving him gasping for air and clutching his heart. It was moments like this that all the things in his youth came crashing down on him, threatening to bury him under their mass. After what felt like an eternity. but was barely more than 5 seconds, Karada steadied his breathing, leaned back in the truck, and prayed none of his classmates saw him having an episode. The thought that one of his classmates may remember him from the scandal briefly filled him with intense fear, and he was about to have another fit when the voice of the bearded driver rung out, bringing him back to the present.

"Line up side to side at the bottom of the stairs. Give your name up one at a time. The boss doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Karada made the perilous journey to escape the truck, slowly masking his way to the side and lowering himself to the ground. After he finished doing so, he immediately lit a new cigarette - Gotta keep up appearances. The school itself was far from impressive, looking more like a house than a institute of education. Hell, with the staff that they've seen so far, Karada wouldn't be surprised if they had to cook their own meals! But to be honest, Karada planned to cook his own meals either way. He felt more comfortable knowing what was in his food. A man that demanded all attention though, was the red-eyed, horned individual standing at forefront of the school, seemingly welcoming the group of students to their education. The figure was very imposing... The brief thought to run had crossed Karada's mind, but turning revealed that the shuttle bus had already departed. Puffing out another burst of smoke, Karada made his way to the slowly forming line, taking the far right as his position.

"Karada Fudosan. It's an honor, sir."

---

---

"RISE AND SHINE, YOUNG HERO! ANOTHER DAY OF CRIME FIGHTING AWAITS! GO FORTH AND DELIVER JUSTICE UNTO DOES WHO WOULD HARM THE INNOCENT AND BRING CHAOS UPON-" A hand groggily maneuvers onto the head of a well-crafted All Might statue that doubles as an alarm clock and pushes the neck of the statue into the body, silencing the encouraging words of the miniature All Might. Removing the U.A. High-themed bed sheets that he was buried under, a young man with messy black hair slowly sits up and scoots to the edge of his bed. His expression is a mixture of someone of who had just woken up and the inability to continue forward in this cruel world. Suddenly, his bedroom door slams open and in comes a young girl with pink hair tied into pigtails—no more than nine or ten years old—shouting. "Kaz, you're gonna miss out on breakfast~!" The surprise of the sudden door slam inadvertently causes the young man to fall out of bed and onto the hard wood floor below. The girl looks over and notices him lying face flat on the floor. "Still asleep? And not even in your bed. You do realize what day it is, right Big Bro?"

"The day where my suffering and humiliation comes to an end...?" Kaz muffles through. She probably didn't hear him so Kaz picks himself off the ground and stares at her with an irritated look on his face. "I'm coming. Just get out of my room." Today is a day unlike any other day at the Akechi residence. Today is the day that Kazuto Akechi starts his Hero training as a L.O.S.E.R. There is a distinct advantage to being at the bottom of the ladder: everyone is too busy fighting their way up to pay any attention to you. Yeah, you can just walk away from that ladder and everyone above you would be none the wiser. But someone did noticed. And that's why Kaz is now attending L.O.S.E.R.: the Last Option School for Eccentric Rejects or, as Kaz likes to call it, the school that really wanted an acronym spelling out "Loser". But enough with his musings, the story moves forward. At the dining table, Kaz drowns out the background noise as he eats a bowl of cereal, having indeed missed the actual breakfast of rice and soup and fish.

In the background, his mother wrestles with speaking to someone on the phone, doing paperwork, and combing the hair of another of Kaz's five sisters; this one being only five years old. His older sister and the oldest child, is a Pro Hero, while two more sisters around his age are currently attending U.A. High: the number one-ranked Hero preparatory academy in the entire country. Yep, just fade into obscurity Kaz. Just fade... Walking out the door with his school bag, Kaz sees that he is followed by his younger sister—the one with pink hair. "Oooo, I wanna come check out your school! Can I, can I?" she pleads. Without speaking and with the same irritated expression, Kaz places his left palm on her face and "gently" pushes her back into their home before slamming the door shut. It was a brisk walk to the meeting place where a vehicle is supposed to pick the new students up. There are six students waiting in total. They must've really scraped the very bottom of the barrel to come up with this paltry number. Their "bus" rows up and it turns out to be a pickup truck driven by a man with a beard more impressive than Kaz's grades.

After verifying that each student is who they say they are for fear of villainous imposters posing as dead-end students attending what could only be the worst-ranked school in the country, if not the world, the driver tells everyone to get in the back. Kaz fumbles and pathetically shimmies his way up onto the flatbed that is marginally taller than he is and takes a seat literally anywhere because who cares, ignoring the dirt and grime. On the drive over, Kaz panics a little inside because he thinks he might've gotten onto the wrong ride somehow. "Why is that guy smoking? Is that legal for a someone his age? And why is there a little girl here? Whose lost child is this?" Kaz thinks to himself. A case can be made for the other guys being here—literally because there's only one girl present and she's ten. Well... That goat boy sure looks oblivious to the entire thing. After some time, they arrive at their final destination.

Aside from the scenic townhouse that is considered the academy's main building, the other thing that catches Kaz's eyes is a towering horned man with a cigar in his mouth. Kaz glances over to the young man smoking cigarettes—seriously, is that legal?—and the goat boy and performs a math equation in his head, adding those two with the physique of All Might and getting that man over yonder. The driver shouts at the students to form a line at the base of the stairs and give their names to the "boss", presumably the devil himself. Kaz does as he is told and, as soon as the last student's feet touches ground, the truck takes off. Shit. That can't possibly bode well, right? Kaz meekly raises his hand in line. "I'm Kazuto Akechi." he simply states.

Four in the morning was Gankona's first real wake up call, a large banging sound having gotten him flinging himself from his cot in the homeless shelter. The abrupt crashing continued two or three times until a burly, maternal voice called from the kitchen: "Breakfeast time!". Oh, yeah. Breakfeast. With Gank's usual schedule, he almost always forgets that most important-meal-of-the-day bullcrap. Well, what can you do when a public organization force feeds you? throwing his scattered sheets back onto the cot, Gankona rummaged through a torn backpack for his messy assortment of belongings. Scarf, check. Wrappings, check. Shorts, check. That's pretty much all he needed for today, or any day.

Slowly, Gankona slugged himself to the makeshift community kitchen right outside his complimentary "living quarters", that of which was shared with about 50 other people. Getting in line with many of the other homeless, the goat-boy picked up his plastic bowl as a rather kind-faced lady plopped some oatmeal down onto it. "You got a big day, Gankona! Aren't you excited? I'm so glad you get an oppurtunity like this.", the young woman beamed, looking up at the goat-boy as if she waited for an almost as enthusiastic response. "Yeah, I'm just too tired to appreciate it, Ya' know? Sure. Now, where did Officer Mashakeshi say it was again?"

"Oh, They're gonna pick you up. Just go to the corner of Sakur and Yukka and there'll be a truck there at 7."

"Ok, Thanks."

---

Gankona took those gracious three hours to scrounge around some dumpsters found behind the not-yet-open restaurant on Sakur and Yukka. Soiled forks, scraps of actually tasteful food, a few ribbons of cloth here and there. Overall, Gank merely took it upon himself to eat as much good stuff as he could before the truck arrived; oatmeal could only do so much. He managed to get in a few interesting bites as he rumaged: a whole plate of uneaten alfredo, some breadsticks, and a meatball. Better than his first breakfeast, by far.

Finally, the clatter of an old steel engine and the turning of coarse, beaten wheels brought Gankona out of his feasting state; the truck had arrived.

Walking towards the street, Gank took a good browse of the truck; Damn, it really did look as busted as him. But, it worked, and that's probably all the school could afford. The LOSER decal was a nice touch, though. Gankona took one big leap from the paved streets into the bed of the truck, rocking the whole vehicle with the force of his impact. The bearded man yelled back a warning and some curses; luckily, Gank hadn't dented the bed so bad as he would notice. The other students started to pile in after him. Oh, yeah, there were others who had failed just as hard as him. Surprising. But they didn't look much like utter failures, did they? One of the most appalling offenders of this was a tall, cleanly cut young man with blonde hair and blue eyes that entered the truck bed after Gank. Now, how the hell did a rich, privy kid get sent to LOSER (Wait, hadn't Gank seen that kid from somewhere. The police station, right)? Afterwards, some other flavorful characters followed; A fisher-man's boy, a completely uninterested, black-haired teen, and another blondey; except this one seemed a lot more like Gankona. Then, finally, there was a rather short, brown-haired girl. She was also the only female here; goes to show, boys really do drool.

Looking down the other-side of the truck bed, the midget girl seemed to having a little bit of trouble jumping onto the tall truck bed. Pulling his body over to her side, Gankona grabbed her ungracefully by the hoodie and pulled her up into the only other seating spot available. She seemed to not appreciate the help much, but it got the job done.

As the truck started its engine once again, the proper boy beside him removed a pack of cigarettes swiftly from his pocket. Leaning over, Gankona asked, "You mind?", before taking a cancer stick from the package and lighting it with the kid's own lighter. Ah, good ol' nicotine. It'll make the drive go faster.

---

By the time the group had gotten to LOSER, Gankona had smoked a total of three of the other kid's cigarettes, throwing the buds out of the car as they shriveled into petty ashes. Now, as the truck approached their final destination, Gankona finally addressed Karada formally. "Name's Gank. Thanks for the smoke"

As the truck finally slowed to a stop, Gank leapt out first-and-foremost among the group, shaking the entire truck once again to its driver's dismay. However, instead of cussing at the goat-boy again, the driver merely shouted,



Easy enough. As Gankona passed the supposed "boss", he gave a nod and said in a cheery tone said, "You remind me of someone." before tapping his curly horns. On first inspection, he liked the guy. Seemed cold, analyzing, not anything like the forcefully happy and warm police officers back in the city. This guy was a different kind of authority; he enjoyed the chilling difference.

'I'm going to prison' Was Danh's immediate thought upon finding himself in the wretched flatbed truck that was to be his ride to L.O.S.E.R. Perhaps all the police milling about his life for the last good while had really been there to arrest him for the crime of having wanted to do more than go fishing for a lifetime. Maybe he had just imagined the fact that his dad had turned out to be a murderer in Vietnam. Heck, he wasn't even around anymore, maybe he never even existed, and the real murderer was him. All these thoughts seemed more plausible than the reality; that he hadn't done anything wrong and yet was still being carted in this pissant truck to the worst school in the country.

A short glance at his fellow inmates made it seem all the more absurd. None of these people looked like they belonged here, but then again, for all Danh knew they were killers on par with his dad or something. Worse yet, they might be unfortunate souls who had such pathetic quirks they couldn't help but go to this loser academy. Sure, some of them looked suspicious, like the goat kid and the smoking dude, but who looked more suspicious than the guy with two sharp implements connected to steel chains wrapped around his arms? Unless he was right about going to prison, all of these people might just have astronomical bad luck like himself.

Eventually, their ride came to a stop and they were all ordered out to greet their warm and friendly new boss. It was clear from the cigar, the piercing glare, and his general 'I don't give a shit about you' demeanour that this guy was going to be the bestest, friendliest teacher there ever was. Their introductional method seemed to reinforce his prison theory; here they all were, lined up like a chain gang reciting their prisoner identification number for the warden. The funniest part was that the goat boy seemed to be all too happy to be here. Maybe this guy was actually his dad? He certainly had the horns for it.

"Danh Umimura." He stated clearly when it was his time to speak up. He got the feeling this guy didn't want anything more than the basics.

---

As Yuri rode on the flatbed truck away from his home with his expecting yet annoying parents, his complete lack of friends and his somewhat empty life, he found a twisted version of relief as the bumps and vacant road were a replacement for his calming music. He sat the furthermost back, away from the door and a perfect vantage point to get a look at the others. As he does, he kind of guesses the type of people they are, pondering what to make of them. Before he even uttered something, he stopped himself they didn't seem to want to talk amongst themselves or to anyone for that matter, so he merely had his head down, closing his eyes and waiting for the ride to start. He didn't really care about the flatbed messing up his clothes as they were just sports clothes, nothing more.

He then pondered why would they choose the option to come here... The others, anyway... Why would they subject themselves to this? He was forced to do this, they had a choice... Then again, didn't he have a choice..? All of the questions were null and void as the truck arrived to it's destination. He dusted himself off before seeing everyone quickly leave, with him trailing behind the rest of the students. He stepped on the ground for one second to see the truck quickly turn and boost out of there, with him raising an eyebrow. He soon quickly turns his attention back to the line, placing his hands in his jacket pockets and joining everyone in it. Well, this was it! The first day of being a L.O.S.E.R.. Spicy. As the other gave their introductions, he just stuck to his usual one for friends, family, adults, children, or even the next door neighbor.

"Yo, name's Yuri.", he introduces calmly.

Lorken kept his thoughts from reflecting on his face, keeping a neutral expression as each student gave their names in standard fashion as they had been told. At the very least he hoped they would continue to follow instructions as they were given. There wouldn't be a lot of them but his expectations were that they got done to the letter.

With a slight nod, Lorken turned on his heel and entered main building.

It was a simple affair, built like most homes and decorated like one. A rich black carpet stretched across the entire hallway. Paintings and pictures adorned the walls, everything from tasteful art of heroes done in oils to pictures of Lorken with graduating students.
Each picture held significance to him in some way. Not collected because they were amusing ir eye catching.

"Keep your shoes on and follow in a line. Touch nothing until you are told to."

The pace was casual as they cut a line through his well furnished home. Even the furniture, though a tad worn out, spoke of wealth from a different time in Lorkens life. Stranger still was that every room had pictures littering the walls suffocatingly; Heroes, Villains, framed newspaper clippings. One such picture showed Lorken in handcuffs bring escorted away by a large crowd of heroes with the headline "Scourge brought down by small-time stars."

Out the back door the group went, the backyard had no fence in sight but there was a large building at the back hidden by the trees when you first approached the property. A small shed attached to it. There was a gym further attached to that, though everything wasn't exactly cutting edge technology.

Lorken motioned for them to stand up near the wall.

"Listen up. My name is Lorken, founder and operator of this tiny slice of hell uou will henceforth call home."

From his red coat he pulled out 6 rolled up pieces of paper. "The state has awarded me custody of those of you under suspicion, ornin custody of the police." His eyes darted to Dahn and Gankona. "The rest of you have had your legal guardians sign off on a dismissal waver."

Lorken tucked his cane under his armpit as he placed the papers back into the sleeve they had come from, secured by a thin sheet of plastic.

"Now, quirk testing time. If I'm going to see how you stack up as heroes than you'll have to show me how you handle a villain. Don't pull a punch or hold back a hit, because I won't and neither will the men and women on the streets. When your name is called out, you will approach. The rest of you will wait in the next room until your names are called."

As each student shuffled off the the Gym, now serving as the waiting room, Lorken began.

------
@Mercurial

Pointing at Dahn, Lorken motioned him to step up first.

"Show me what you can do."

-------
@Blu

When Dahn was finished, Lorken called out the next student Kaz. Dahn already sitting outside as the next boy entered.

"You next."

-------
@Kuma

Next up was Yuri, whom Lorken called for. The other student already gone.

"Let us see if you stack up to your family."

--------
@Duoya

Lorken called for Karada next. The previous student now resting outside.

"Come. Let us see if money makes the man."

--------
@GodOfWar

Calling out Gankona next, Lorken motioned the boy over.

"Fight like you mean it or its back to the police station."

---------
@Prewiga

The last student was called out. Lorken stood at the center of the gymnasium with the same dull expression he had at the start.

"This is real combat, Ms.Atsumeru. Show me you have what it takes to rise above your limitations. Otherwise I have no use for you."

His cane had been discarded somewhere alomg the ways, so now he juat stood there waiting with hands crossed over his chest.

--------

The room was setup like most gymnasiums. It is a large open room with concrete flopts, sprinklers on the roof, and some random equipment laying around meant to be obstacles. Use whatever trick you want.

Once they got inside the house, Danh had to admit it didn't look so bad. He had initially expected to find out it was a complete shit-hole on the inside, but between the carpet and the paintings, the place almost seemed a little refined. Any building positivity he had was thrown out the window when he caught a glimpse of the picture of their 'boss' in handcuffs. It told him that the guy must be some kind of crook. That meant they were in the care of a bloody criminal. Now Danh was really convinced they were in prison; it was just a prison where they had left the biggest and meanest prisoner as the warden. Flights of fancy aside, Danh had little else to do but follow the others out through to the gymnasium.

When this Lorken fellow finally started to explain, he found out that at least some of their number were apparently in the custody of the police. As if Danh needed any more fuel for his prison conspiracy fire, now he had confirmed some of them were actually criminals. Who knew exactly what these people were guilty of? Danh could be surrounded by straight up murderers for all he knew. He cursed the fact that his circumstances forced him to be here. Then again, maybe he could still pull out; not everybody had to be a Hero, and he could still go back and help his mum on the fishing boat. Becoming a Hero had just been a childish fancy of his, he could stand to give it up now, surely...

However, any thoughts of fleeing this place were cut short by the announcement of their initial testing. They were going to have to fight this apparent criminal. Danh was wondering if this was legit or just a front for this guy's murder boner. Worse yet, he was the first one that had to fight. Having been put on the spot, Danh nervously entered the room with Lorken. He tried to tell himself he was just being suspicious; there was no way anybody would let this place run if it wasn't at least a barely functional school, right? He steeled himself for combat, figuring that either way, he would have to give his all to this fight. "Alright then, get..." He aimed his right arm at Lorken "...pierced!" His harpoon then shot forth from his arm, aiming to snag Lorken right in the chest. It was an exceptionally simple opening move, but Danh didn't exactly have a wealth of tactics to employ from the start. He would just have to see how the fight evolved from here.

@Zelosse

---

---

After the students had given their brief introduction to their would-be "instructor"—speaking of which, does this place actually have teachers?—the man leads them into the main building. Inside, the first thing Kaz notices is the black carpet. It's just that it's such an uninviting color. This thing belongs in a dungeon, not a school. Well, "school" is a relative term for this place, Kaz supposes. The big horned man in charge tells the students to keep their shoes on and to follow him in an orderly line. Additionally, he doesn't want them to touch anything unless explicitly told to. Seems like simple enough instructions. The quality of Kaz's facial animation drops by twenty percent as he begins to care less about what was happening.

As they went about their "tour" with nothing being said by the big man, portraits of Heroes and pictures of him and his graduates can be seen lining the walls. Tasteful. Kaz then notices something. There is a framed newspaper clipping on the wall with a picture of Mr. Devil in police custody with a headline mentioning a "Scourge" being taken down by small time Heroes. One can only assume that Mr. Devil himself is, in fact, that very Scourge. Which only speaks volumes about what kind of man this Scourge was, or maybe still is. But that's not what Kaz noticed. There is a portrait nearby that is crooked by a few inches. This vexes him. "This "no touching" rule is getting on my nerves..."

After trudging through a fence-less backyard and some trees, the group finally arrives at the academy gym where they are told to line up against the wall. Mr. Devil finally introduces himself as simply Lorken, the proprietor of this "tiny slice of Hell." How fitting. Lorken pulls out some paper and started explaining why some of them are here today. It seems like some of them are criminals or something to that effect. Kaz's facial animation quality drops by sixty percent as he picks his ear with his pinky and kind of just drowned out what was being said.

Kaz perks up a little bit when Lorken announces that he will be testing their Quirks right now. He lets them know not to pull any punches. "Shit." One by one, the students' names are called for their individual testing with Kaz being the very second one. As Dahn @Mercurial walks out, Kaz places one hand on his shoulder as if saying "good job" or something like that. With his body facing forward, he turns his head to the side and looks at the rest of the students. "If I don't make it back... Just remember I was here." Kaz tells them as his facial animations shot up to 200% "extra budget" mode.

Looking forward again, he walks towards his doom- err, Quirk test. Inside, Kaz stares at Lorken with a blank face. "You next," Lorken simply says. "Okay," Kaz replies back. He then walks slowly towards Lorken. "I have to warn you: don't let my appearance deceive you..." He stops in front of Lorken and looks up to him with a straight face. "I'm much weaker than I look." Without speaking, Kaz pinches Lorken's left, ahem, nipple with his right hand. "..." There is an awkward silence. "No effect I see... Well, I wasn't expecting much of anything but-" Out of nowhere, Kaz swings his left fist towards Lorken's face while simultaneously calling out, "Super Normal Sucker Punch!"

@Zelosse

It seemed like Lorken had no time to spare as he swiftly lead the motley class into the lavishly decorated halls of LOSER. As the group of anxious students entered, Gankona one among them, the school's rather historical decor was revealed unto them. Nostalgia practically exuded from the walls as Gankona passed by a complete showcase of heroes and villians, decorations he had not expected to see in a school that accepted the likes of him. Clippings and art plastered the walls, showing off the graduating classes and academic spirit of LOSER in an almost constant amount. Such a clean and haughty show of achievements indicated that Lorken obviously kept his pupils and objects in absolute organization and control; it showed he had authority, pride, and conviction, three things Gankona could respect you for... conditionally. For now, the goat-boy had none of those qualities; merely interest.

Passing by the numerous depictions of both Lorken's successes as well as those of hero-kind, Gankona was drawn to the 'Scourge' newspaper print along with many of the other students. It reminded the goat-boy of how he had been caught himself after a full 8-years of crime. Perhaps Lorken slipped up in a rather similar way to Gankona; Perhaps not. At the very least, it was relatable, and made Gankona think that "the boss" was from a world not too far from his. There was a saying Gank had once heard, what was it again?.. Oh yeah,

---

After Lorken introduced himself and settled all the legal matters, giving the jist of what the kids were in for in this "little slice of hell", actual schooling began. Quirk tests. More specifically, battle-quirk tests. Lorken declared that he would take on each child one-on-one to test their mettle. It was somewhat like that football training tradition; "Bull in the middle", that was outlawed a number of years ago. As Dahn treaded into the gymnasium, a first of many, Gankona slumped down onto the ground near Karada and waited his turn patiently with a smoke.

One thing of note was how irritated Gankona became whenever anybody yelled those stupid hero slangs. Like, Good God,"Super Normal Sucker Punch"?! Really? What a great way to prove oneself, indeed. Luckily, from what Gank could hear, once Lorken got his hands on the poor bastards things got a lot quieter. He really was a beast.

As his good ol' smoking buddy exited the gym after his session with the suited devil, Gankona stood up and patted him on the back before heading in himself. He hadn't had time to ask him how he was doing.

---

The gymnasium was littered with cones and concrete blocks used as obstacles to create a makeshift arena. As Gankona entered, he spied Lorken, cane-in-hand, standing his ground at the far end of the gym. The slight hint of blood and sweat could be detected peppering the air in the large room, most likely the product of the battles done before Gank's entry. The boss called from across the gym, his voice booming.



A response rose itself hesitantly from Gankona's throat. Though not nearly as loud as the oppressive tone of Lorken, it was audible.



Gankona knew, unlike the other students before him, he was made of a much tougher substance. He had been in a fair amount of brawls before, and had already had at least a couple scrapes with hero personnel; none of which he won in. However, even Gankona was smart enough to know that Lorken was a far more skilled combatant then he. And, though such a burly figure demanded he fight with all he had, unless there was some effect to his struggles and actions, it would obviously not prove any power in Gankona's quirks or abilities. Merely that "he tried". So, what else was there to show that Gank was more than dirt-cheap?



That rod of authority that Lorken held firmly in his right hand. To try and take that away would be tricky, but proving. Hell, he might as well. Gank could easily last longer than any of the other combatants, he'll try and keep the pressure on until he can grab and throw the cane. It would be an annoying declaration that would probably get him kicked in the face, but it would make a statement. "I can disarm you"

---

Gankona steadied himself, spreading his legs shoulder-length apart and starting to tip his body forward. Breaking into a sprint, the goat-boy charged himself through any obstacles littered on the floor in front of him towards Lorken. As the True Ram approached his opponent at increasing speeds, he propelled himself off of the ground and into the air, preparing to crash down into Lorken with both of his hands ready to grapple his throat. If Gankona had to name this move, it'd be Crashing Extinction!!

---

The other students had followed the same process that Karada had, rising up from the truck and walking to form a line in front of the horned man. As they all did, it became apparent that this man was their principal... Or, at the very least, a high ranking teacher. Karada spent several minutes examining him, even as they entered into the surprisingly clean and well-kept house school. All Karada was able to deduce about this individual before becoming surprised by his surroundings was that he had incredibly sharp nails, that could be viable as slashing weapons, and 2 large curved horns, not unlike his new friend, Gank. The group continued throughout the house, and Karada couldn't help noticing the newspaper clippings, detailing the... eccentric life that this man had lived before he had come to the school. He also noticed the other students all looked at the clippings as well, with mixed reactions etched across their faces. In all honesty, the fact that this man used to be a villain didn't really impact Karada that much. He was in the worst hero's school in all of Japan, and this place was really one of the only places left for Karada. He was kicked out of his home, had no place to live, and had 200,000 yen to his name. It didn't matter if his teacher or principal was a sociopathic killer, so being a villain didn't matter much.

All the furniture they had seen so far seemed relatively ancient, yet Karada wouldn't have been surprised to see any of these pieces in his parent's home. They spoke of high living standards, and Karada was slightly saddened to see that pieces of such high quality were in a place like this. However, maybe it was that they were in a place like this, that they truly stood out. Each piece looked ancient, yet they had been taken care of incredibly well, standing the test of time for years without submitting. It reminded Karada of what his old classmates believed a hero to be. A person who stood up to adversity, and never gave up in the face of danger. Karada always admired these types of people - not for their actions, but for the results of these actions. People loved the heroes. People loved their actions, their ideals, the ground they walk on. Praise awaited their every turn, and if they were treated like they didn't belong or weren't loved, they would be able to stand on their own feet, rather than shrivel up in a corner and take the insults. Karada wanted to become a hero for this. He had spent years for this. He wasn't going to be screwed over by some persons lie, and he was going to show everyone who had mistreated him that he didn't need money or power to stand against them.

The group eventually exited through the back door of the building, only to make their way to another large building only a short walk away. The man immediatly stopped moving and, as everyone was following like ducklings, we all stopped as well. He turned on his heel, motioning for them to line up against the wall as if they were picking teams for dodge ball. This is when the man finally introduced himself.

"Listen up. My name is Lorken, founder and operator of this tiny slice of hell uou will henceforth call home. The state has awarded me custody of those of you under suspicion, or in custody of the police. The rest of you have had your legal guardians sign off on a dismissal waver. Now, quirk testing time. If I'm going to see how you stack up as heroes than you'll have to show me how you handle a villain. Don't pull a punch or hold back a hit, because I won't and neither will the men and women on the streets. When your name is called out, you will approach. The rest of you will wait in the next room until your names are called."

The man named Lorken then pointed to the tanned boy with harpoons dangling from his arms, motioning him into the gym. Karada spent a large amount of time sitting next to Gank, the two sharing his cigarettes. Karada finished his first one, snuffing it out, and stopping. He hated the taste, and he had to be in his top shape for this. Karada's quirk was never built as a combat quirk - it is defensive, and that's about it. Karada originally planned on simply using it as a benefit to typical combat and countering suicide missions; after all, entering a place where people will shoot you on sight didn't really matter when you could just stand still while the enemy wasted their ammo. But actual combat was not Karada's strong suit - the few techniques and tricks he had created relied entirely on his opponent not knowing his power, being a trained professional, or having a set amount of ammunition that he could simply wait for the opponent to use up. Karada pulled his head back, trying to think up a strategy, and eventually settling on the most offensive technique he had. By the time he had finally opened his eyes, the vertically challenged man named Kazuto had exited the gymnasium, and Karada saw Lorken standing in the doorway, motioning him over.

Karada slowly rose to his feet, before taking off his jacket and tie, before finally unbuttoning his dress shirt. Lorken's nails were incredibly sharp, and if the cuts on the previous students didn't show that he used them as a weapon, than Karada didn't know what did. He had already ruined his pants, he sure as hell wasn't going to ruin his last jacket and dress shirt. As he did this, Karada's fairly muscular body (though nowhere near as impressive as Lorken's or some of the other students) and numerous scars from physical abuse were revealed. Folding them neatly and placing them where he was sitting, Karada made his way over to the horned man, as if he was walking to the devil himself. They entered the gymnasium, before positioning themselves on opposite sides.

"Come. Let us see if money makes the man."

Karada frowned slightly. This man was like the others, seeing him as a wealthy man rather than a person who had trained hard and put in hundreds of hours of work. Karada raised his chin slightly before uttering out a response

"Money may make the man, but I'm no man. I'm a hero."

With that, Karada ran towards Lorken. He did so in a novice way, and Karada wasn't moving nearly as fast as he could. His form was terrible, and he moved barely faster than a light jog. But that was just what Karada wanted - to look as pathetic and novice as possible. Upon making it close enough to Lorken, Karada immediately threw a punch aimed straight at Lorken's jaw. It left Karada wide open, and a single strong punch to the stomach would cause him to crumple to the ground and choke (Or at least, for someone who had ran as slowly as Karada had, it would). A counter attack against it would have been very easy, and Karada was expecting Lorken to punch him in the stomach.

Right before his fist made contact, and the counter attack would have already instinctively begun, Karada executed the actual technique. He had spent years perfecting it: Right before contact, Karada would freeze his body, and remain perfectly still, not even breathing, and activating his quirk. Learning to stop a punch while throwing it as hard as you could instantly took an immense amount of effort, but Karada was confident in this technique: foes who had experience in combat, like he assumed Lorken had, would counter the pathetic punch easily with an uppercut to the stomach - only to break their hands on an unmovable object.

If everything had gone well, and Lorken countered, than he would break his own hand against Karada's body, and Karada would be able to punch him in the throat while he was in pain and shock. Not the most honorable of actions, but he was going to do everything he needed to in order to achieve his dream.

@Zelosse

---

As Lorken gave the tour, Yuri only drank his milk as he toured the small school. Everything was well kept, as if he visited a grandma's house and the only thing there would be an gentle, elderly lady probably watching her TV or sewing something. He looked at the tall man as if he was a regular person, then he peers over at the newspapers of his life; the amount that he has robbed for banks, jewelry stores, et cetera. He also saw the many graduates and even a portrait of the big man himself. He doesn't seem entertained by it, but he can acknowledge that he knows what he's doing. I mean, he masterminded a lot of things as a villain until he was thirty five, right? Of course he's intelligent.

After an awkward silence of walking and touring, the big man speaks himself. "Listen up. My name is Lorken, founder and operator of this tiny slice of hell you will henceforth call 'home'. The state has awarded me custody of those of you under suspicion, or in custody of the police. The rest of you have had your legal guardians sign off on a dismissal waver. Now, quirk testing time. If I'm going to see how you stack up as heroes, you'll have to show me how you handle a villain. Don't pull a punch or hold back a hit, because I won't. Neither will the men and women on the streets. When your name is called out, you will approach. The rest of you will wait in the next room until your names are called."

Seemed easy enough orders to follow. Well, at least he knows that Lorken is how he would imagine him. He notices the small dart towards Karada and Gank, as he talks and then he leads Dahn to the gym for his test. He waits patiently for Dahn to get done and sees him get back, albeit beaten. He offers a small nod to Dahn before Kaz has brought up next. After time has passed, Kaz doesn't come back but Lorken does. He points to Yuri and tells him to come, leading him to the gym. As they enter, Yuri stops so Lorken could have space to start with, him turning around and looking at the young lad. "Let us see if you stack up to your family."

"Now you're just beating a dead horse.", he says. He then summons a bone sword and shield from his palm and forearm respectively, now looking at Lorken. "Gotta make this quick, but flashy. I already know the outcome.", he mutters to himself as he helps Lorken assess his quirk. He uses his quirk to make his shield protrude spikes as he strategically strafes and slices, parrying whenever he can. He seems to rely more on defense than offense.

@Mercurial

Lorken stood his ground and waited for Dahn to ready himself. Of course there had been precautions against this boys particular quirk but sacrifices had to be made if the goal of remolding each and every one of these kids was to be made reality, and sometimes that meant taking one for the greater good of the moment. Lorken would never get a proper or accurate understanding of each students individual needs and requirements if he avoided what happened next.
This was one of the many reasons his previous students had grown as Heroes in their own right.

The harpoon launched straight and true, Lorkens red eyes locked with Dahns as time seemed to slow down. A sane person would avoid the attack, block it, retaliate, anything like that, but the horned man didn't even flinch. His hand moved up and clamped down hard enough on harpoon to negate some of its initial force but it was not enough to halt the projectile entirely.
The head of the harpoon scored a direct hit in Lorkens chest as it easily cut through his finely tailored suit. Not even a grimace graced his face as the implement was pulled painfully out of his flesh.

Still holding it firmly in his hand, never breaking eye contact with Dahn. "Strong launching speed when fired from a stationary position. More weight to it than I previously believed, an indication this has been something you've used on the regular many times before, but it is far to telegraphed to catch a serious villain with a more suitable quirk off guard."

Tossing the weapon back at the boys feet, Lorken took a wide footed stance better suited to dodging than assault.

"Think of a new approach and try again. This time you will be under threat of retaliation."

Having gleamed what useful knowledge he could, the horned man was more than prepared to push Dahn and his Quirk to its limit. Firing rate could be an issue if the harpoons chain could not be reeled in quickly, aim was not completely precise but a single glancing blow without protection would have punched clean through Lorkens chest, and there was no telling how long the chain actually was. Holding his cane tightly he waited for an opportunity.

-----------

@Blu

Lorken made no move to stop the boys advance in any way. Didn't have to. Body language spoke of little to no confidence, weak posture, lax attitude, and he could almost smell the cowardice on this boy. Initial impressions were not favorable but given his Quirk negation it seemed logical that the boy felt he was weaker than he was. Kaz wasn't exactly wrong. The pinching of Lorkens nipple was childish in the extreme, given that with his thick suit and vest below it would not be possible at all.
When the very announced sucker punch was initially called out he merely raised an eyebrow and stood his ground.
Fist met flesh with a dry smack as Lorkens head was pushed to the side by the blow.

The hit was soft by hero standards.

"Your strike was weak. Terrible form, predictable, slow, lacking any of the grace you would find in someone who must rely on their physical attributes more than the benefits of their quirk."

Lorkens strike was much faster. From the tip of his cane to the side of the boys jaw he struck, a fast blow but unfocused. Not meant to cause injury but disorient.

"I have no use for a childish coward. Show me you can handle a proper fight. If you cannot do that much, I have no use of you."

When he meant a proper fight it seemed fairly obvious that the horned man meant a fist fight but that was not true. Villains fought with any means they found necessary, be it with a weapon or using their surroundings to ambush their intended target by surprise. Simply yelling out your intention served no other purpose than to prove you could be loud.
From beneath his suit strapped in an X across his back, Lorken reached behind him to pull out one of the two knives he had strapped there. It was sharp enough to shave with, meticulously cared for. Lorken placed the weapon in Kazs hand and backstepped 5 feet away.

"If you lack the physical strength to injure me, you will be armed. Some pro heroes rely on tools meant to incapacitate aggressive targets without causing permanent injury, but I am loathe to give you one such option until there is certainty you need it. Again, attack."

Lorken took up a better grip on his cane and readied himself for the attack. With the boys Quirk incapable of working on Lorken, as he lacks any strength or agility amplifying quirks to negate, it would come down to a physical match instead. If Kaz could fight on past his limitations, it would be enough for Lorken to consider taking him on.

---------

@GodOfWar

A head-on running charge without any regard for apparent strategy. An old associate had one coined Lorken the same way he now coined Gankona, "Stubborn as a goat and just as direct." The boy leaped into the air, Lorken arching an eyebrow at the impressive display of muscle growth needed to achieve the height Gank got, and made no move to extricate himself from what was coming. Indeed the fellow horn headed individual spread his arms at the falling comet that was Gankona.

But Lorkens face showed he was far from impressed.

The two collided, with the older horned male bracing himself for the inevitable collision. The two slid across the cement floor a few feet before Ganks momentum played out and he now stood face to face with Lorken. The two had each other in a firm hold now, Gankonas hand wrapped around Lorkens throat and one meaty hand of his on the boys throat as well.
Neither was applying pressure.

"Strong muscles, but brash. Headlong into an armed opponent could land you in a lot of trouble." To accentuate his point, one of the sharp claws on his hand ran gingerly over the boys skin. Just enough to draw blood. "Points for showing no fear. Show me just how far this strength goes."
Lorken broke the chokehold between the two forcibly, tossing away the cane behind him and throwing his hands in between Ganks before pushing outwards. Lorken followed up the break with quick left, a jab by boxers standards, aimed at Ganks face. Two more lefts followed by a strong right. When one fist came in to attack he positioned himself in a low spread to keep his balance, careful to have his opposite hand up to guard his face from retaliation. It would be a brawl indeed.

---------
@Duoya

Running charge into a headlong attack? No. Decoy.

Lorken baited in the inevitable use of the boys quirk, catching onto the scheme in its infancy, and merely threw out the ghost of a punch at the boys torso. Merely the movement of a punch. Not an actual strike that was meant to connect. His knuckles brushed Karadas stomach with no force behind it, his opposite hand planted firmly on the boys shoulder. Those red eyes never seemed to blink as he stared at the boy.

"Excellent technique. Creative use of an otherwise absolute defense quirk, with a body that has seen adversity."

Lorken was now quite positive that a frontal attack on karada would prove more damaging to himself than the boy. The mans gaze swept across the boys form like a butcher observing a piece of meat, poking and prodding the boys arms and chest while the Quirk kept him completely impervious to damage. Lorkens claws did not so much as leave a scratch while the Quirk was active.

"But what now? Will you continue to try and bait me into breaking my own hand in an attempt to damage you.." Lorken pounced, ducking behind the boy and wrapping his suited arm over the boys mouth and nose. Indeed he was impervious to attack but was he immune to different types of them? Suffocation might be the easiest way to stifle the boy. Tear gas, foul odors, spitting in the boys eyes, anything that got a response out of him would break the quirks requirements so said the paperwork.

"What now?"

------------

@Prewiga

Mizumi's lower lip began to pout as her body started to sway, her weight being shifted from her heels to her toes. "So without any, I can't really do much."

Lorken didn't bother acknowledging that simple statement, he did not have to. All of his notes about this girl were clear enough that he know without some sort of liquid she was not capable of using her quirk which was an unfortunate downside to an otherwise strong potential. What he really hated was her inattentiveness. While he had spoken she was idly on her cellphone instead of respecting the speaker.

"Give me your phone."

Holding out his hand, he waited for her to hand over the device. Though it had been very hesitantly. Lorken would have crushed the damn thing with his bare hand but that would not do any good beyond satisfying his very particular demands for respect. Rather than crushing it the device was placed in the same plastic sleeve as the forms had. For this exact reason. Reaching to the left of it, Lorken drew out the handgun he kept in the holster under his left shoulder and took aim.
The hammer struck and the dummy round struck the target dead center. The sprinkler over Mizumis head broke in half before it turned on automatically, spraying a direct downpour of ice cold water atop the girls head in a rather comical fashion.

Holstering the firearm, Lorken continued to stand where he was.

"I trust you have no more complaints. Absorb as much as you are comfortable with and when you are ready, Ms. Atsumeru."

------
@Kuma

"If you say so, Kimimaru."

A rare chuckle escaped Lorken at his own little bit of whit. An associate of his back in the glory days had been obsessed with popular television and one of them was an animated character from an uninteresting show that had been able to manipulate his own bone structure the way Yuri now was. When the young lad sprouted a bone shield and a matching sword Lorken was on defense.
First thing to test was how sharp the created weapon could be.
The first slash that made contact with Lorkens sleeve, being careful not to simply be impaled merely to test something mundane, cut the fabric with ease. That put him back quickly. Created weapons tended to be on the weak side, but like Dahns harpoon, this one was more than capable of achieving its requirement.

Yuri threw a series of tight slashes that lacked the finesse of a duelist but they were still more than dangerous enough to be considered a threat. What was impressive to Lorkens eyes was the shield, placed in the way of anything that could be attacked that would disrupt the boys movement. When Lorken did at last throw out an attack with the hard metal cane it struck the bone shield hard enough to stagger Yuri but not disrupt his balance. What was more surprising to him was that the shield sustained no injury at all, not even a scuff.

"Strong material. Fairly light, sharp enough to cut flesh, but you are swinging wildly without any real intent to injure me. This is a demonstration of who you are and how you would incapacitate a murderer on the streets. Right before their blade takes the lives of your parents, your friends, your sisters. Do not falter. Again!"

This time around Lorken struck harder. Not wanting to get close enough that Yuris spiked shield or sharp sword could cause any lasting damage he angled the cane the same way a fencer wielded a rapier. It was here the boy showed more promise, turning aside his strikes harmlessly with the sword, rarely taking the straight thrusts. When Lorkens cane came in a predictable pattern Yuri was quick to swing it wide before swiping with his sword. In all, it resulted in a stale mate of sorts. Something the horned boss did not like.
It made the exercise stagnate.

With renewed strength of arm he began to strike harder, more brute force than finesse, battering the shield with blow after blow. On one particular strike Lorken went all in. Hardened bone meant fewer injuries to the skeleton and less downtime but it did nothing for muscle tissue. Joints. Sensitive areas like the nose.
The cane went up high with a growl in his left hand, his opposite hand grabbed the firearm with practiced efficiency. The cane came down hard as the hammer fired the dummy round aimed at Yuris stomach. At this distance it was likely to leave one hell of a bruise if the boy did not catch onto the move.

Deep down Lorken prayed the boy would not only see the move coming but would retaliate accordingly. Adapting to these scenarios was life or death on the streets.

---

---

Kaz's punch hits its mark with a resounding smack and budges Lorken's head to the side by a small margin. Obviously, this can only mean imminent death awaits our plucky and neurotic young student. Kaz had anticipated that Lorken would evade or stop his attack. And he was right: Lorken stopped the punch with his face. Kaz's punches are so pathetic that people won't bother to move out of the way anymore. A cold bead of sweat runs down the side of his face as Kaz, once again, regrets several major life decisions leading up to this point in his life. The entirely unimpressed Lorken verbally analyzes the punch in full detail before "instructing" Kaz on what a proper punch should look like. The blazing quick strike–meant to disorientate–did nothing of the sort against Kaz and actually knocks him off his feet and into a face plant. This is his life now thinks Kaz as he debates the merits between getting back up or taking a nap.

Lorken calls him a childish coward and demands an adequate performance from him in this fight lest he be of no use to Lorken or this school. "Mmmmmnnnfffff..." Kaz attempts to speak with his face still married to the floor. Clearly there was no way Lorken could understand any of that mumbling so Kaz lifts his face off the ground and looks up at Lorken, his body still unmoved. "And in case that didn't come through clearly enough to your thick skull (seriously, my hand still goddamn hurts!), I said that you're right to call me childish, but a coward?" Kaz picks himself back up. "Well... that's just something I have to politely disagree with." Kaz brushes himself off and awaits a response from his opponent.

No verbal response was offered, at least not one that Kaz bothered to listen to, but Lorken did remove a knife from a strap on his back and hands it to Kaz before distancing himself a few feet away. Lorken goes on to explain that certain Pro Heroes utilize tools to tackle the more aggressive foes without inflicting permanent or fatal wounds but refuses to let Kaz use any until he is certain that Kaz needs it. He then tells him to attack once more. An all too serious demeanor takes over Kaz as he inspects Lorken's knife. A seasoned blade—razor sharp and painstakingly maintained throughout its years—it's nothing short of a work of art, by the story it tells if not by its visage. Kaz tosses it down and stuck the pointy end into the floor as the quality of his facial animations drops by seventy percent. "Boy, it sure is mildly warm in here." he says as he removes his cardigan and proceeds to wrap it around his waist.

"It's obvious that he doesn't have any Quirk-based defenses I can 'punch' my way through and, from what I can tell, his attacks are that of pure oxen strength so nothing I can 'normalize'. So, when it comes down to it: this fight is a straight-forward physical match-up; one that I am bound to lose if I play by his rules. But he knows that. There's nothing he can gain from a slugfest with me. That's not what he's looking for. He wants to see how many times I'll keep getting up. In that case, he's probably read a file on me that includes information on the way I think and behave. If I give up so readily like I usually do, then he proves the file right..."

Kaz finishes wrapping his cardigan around his waist, grabs the knife, and proceeds to walk backwards, gaining more distance away from Lorken. "Then again, why do I care about any of this? Even if I prove myself here and now, it'll just be more of this in the long run. I've accepted who I am and have always been: a no-talent failure. Yeah, that's what they've always told me. They can't all be wrong..." Kaz remembers the instructors he's had throughout the years. His third-grade teacher: "Kazuto, you need to do better. This is inexcusable." "I don't care." His gym teacher in middle school: "Is this all you can do? Tha- That's just- It's pathetic!" "I don't care. His middle school homeroom teacher: "In all honesty, you will never succeed in the Hero world." "I don't care." "If you cannot do that much, I have no use of you." "I don't care!"

"Tch." Kaz stares down Lorken. "I'm not that much of a masochist to keep on taking these beat downs. So, I'll just have to try, I guess... Hmm, feels like I'm forgetting something though." Kaz shrugs off that last thought and charges forward, making a beeline directly to Lorken. "If he's thinking I'm simply going to bum rush him, he has another thing coming. Hehe, my master plan will surely- Ehh?" Just a few feet away from Lorken, Kaz unexpectedly trips and goes sliding towards the towering figure. "Crap crap crap crap crap crap crap!" Kaz's master plan seems to have crumble before his very eyes. But... sometimes the unexpected outcome yields the best results.

In one swift motion, Kaz cuts the cardigan free from his waist and tosses it towards Lorken's face. While Lorken deals with that, Kaz has a split-second window opportunity to slide through Lorken's legs—it pays to be small sometimes! Once through, Kaz wraps his arms around Lorken's right leg and presses the knife against it. A somewhat pathetic look—a short guy hanging onto the leg of some big dude—but, hey, whatever it takes! "I don't suppose you're wearing any steel leggings and you definitely don't have any Quirk-based defenses. I may not be all that physically imposing but it doesn't take an All Might to plunge this really sharp-looking knife into a soft, fleshy calf. In fact, did you know there is a major artery in one's leg that when severed will cause (Holy shit, I'm totally making all of this up.) a person to bleed to death within a matter of minutes?"

@Zelosse

Danh's jaw was agape the moment his harpoon actually hit its mark. He had been fully expecting him to dodge or demonstrate some wacky power, but instead he let it connect, only making a bare effort to keep it from going straight through. Worse was the fact that it didn't even seem to faze the guy. He just pulled it out and gave a plain evaluation of his technique. As insane as this all was, it seemed to confirm one comforting fact; this guy actually wanted to teach them something, in a vague sense of the word. Of course, there was no telling how seriously he intended to take this session beyond letting Danh get a hit in on him. Was he going to test just how much of a beating Danh could take before passing out, too? Or would he stop short of that?

There was little time for musing, however, as Lorken made it clear he was going to retaliate this time around. He had thrown his harpoon back to him rather than taking the opportunity to break his chain or yank him in for a beatdown, so he didn't seem to be going all out here. Still, Danh wasn't about to take the bastard lightly. Formulating a quick plan, Danh began retracting his right harpoon while bringing his left arm around to the right and shooting out its harpoon. As the left harpoon shot forth, he swung his arm back to the left, bringing the harpoon and it's chain in a big, sweeping arc towards the left. If Lorken planned on coming after him while he realinged his other harpoon, he would be leaping right into the arc of his left harpoon, and if not, he would probably still want to take a step back if he didn't want to keep testing the strength of his attacks. "If I told you to get slapped this time, would you let me hit you with this?" He bleated out quickly as he made his play. It was mostly in jest, but heck, if he let himself get pierced the first time, maybe he was feeling compliant? He could only try.

@Zelosse

---

Shit...
SHIT!

While externally, Karada was calm and collected to maintain his quirk, his blue eyes flared with anger and frustration. One of his only techniques, blocked by the man that held his future in his clawed hands. Karada barely heard the compliment over the blood pounding in his ears. What gave it away? How badly he ran? Surely it wasn't that obvious, tons of rejects who didn't even know how to run probably came here... No, it must have been that and the combination of something else, like his scars or muscles. He probably assumed they were caused from fights, and someone that experienced should know a headlong assault with no strength based quirk to help you attack was stupid. So he stood perfectly still while Lorken's claws traced around his skin. Karada couldn't feel a thing.

When the man ducked behind him, Karada began to panic - He couldn't turn his head to watch Lorken without breaking his quirks effect. Karada couldn't feel the clothed arm cover his mouth, but he was still able to see it - making Karada question him. He already knew about how his quirk functioned, or at least he seemed to, so why was he trying to choke Karada? He couldn't even breath whenever he used his quirk, so what was the poi-

Karada immediately snapped to awareness. He wasn't trying to deactivate his quirk, he was waiting for when Karada ran out of air! He was going to choke Karada! With his mind being so busy that Lorken may have heard it from how close he was, Karada quickly went thorough numerous options - Biting his hand would work, but it would break the quirk's defense, and since he wasn't fazed by the wound in his chest, that alone wouldn't work. Plus, being that close to Lorken's claws would be a problem... Ducking out of the hold was impossible, Karada could sense the strength behind the hold. Karada quickly crafted a plan in his mind. He would reel his head back, attempting to smash it into Lorken's nose and praying that he missed the horns. As he did so, however, he would also bite into Lorken's hand, and slam his elbow into Lorken's chest, trying to use his spatial awareness to push his elbow into the still open wound. If he was lucky, this amount of movement would be enough to break the chokehold, or at least shock Lorken enough to allow him to escape, and then run a slight distance away

Should he escape, the next order of business would be to attempt the bait technique. It would be almost impossible for Lorken to fall for it, but that would be the point - Karada planned to use his technique as a decoy. When Lorken doesn't respond to the attack, Karada would break out of his quirk's effect and grapple around Lorken's torso, squeezing with everything he could before staying still and using his quirk. This would leave Lorken with three options - endure the incredible pressure and pain for roughly 2 minutes and choke Karada when the time was up, concede the match to Karada, or break Karada's quirk effect using his raw strength. Doing so would almost certainly take up a lot of stamina, and leave him wide open for Karada to punch him in the chest wound. If he was lucky, he may even be able to get his hand inside of Lorken and cause some internal bleeding. Didn't matter how well he could handle pain, internal bleeding would at least slow him down.

Karada briefly considered the ethics of this. He was with a past villain, in a "school" located on the outskirts of town and hidden by the forest, and he was about to try something that would kill, or at least seriously injure a lesser man. Karada quickly dismissed it, however. Lorken said he wasn't going easy on them, and while being threatened with choking was pretty intimidating, Karada knew he probably could have taken him out a lot earlier with much less effort. This was a man who had dealt with heroes and the police on a regular basis. This was a test, not all out combat.

But despite this, Karada refused to take it easy, to give up. This man was standing in the way of everything he had worked for, his future, his only shot at survival. He had sacrificed so much in order to get to the bottom of the mountain for heroes. This man, Lorken, wasn't going to stop Karada. He was just a steep ledge on the mountain that Karada was climbing. A steep ledge that Karada was going to use to ascend higher, to become stronger and beat, even if it meant having the crap kicked out of him.

Was this a safe plan? No. Was it the best plan Karada's slowly oxygen-starved brain could come up with? Pretty much. Did it have a high chance of success? Oh hell no. But hey, it's worth a shot.

Karada bit into Lorken's hand, before slamming his head back and elbowing him in the chest.

@Zelosse

---

"Who is Kimimar- Nevermind.", he asks, confused as he looks at Lorken having a bit of a chuckle. He then begins his strategy. He doesn't seem to really be fazed about how his bone sword cuts through fabrics, but he does take Lorken's advice to heart all except for him discussing his family. Yuri just nodded at him before raising his shield up. He knew that he wasn't much good with a sword as he thought he was, but he was certainly ready to try a different strategy. After blocking the blows from the metal cane, he uses his sword to sway the overhead strike away, looking at Lorken as he pulls the gun... This is about the time Yuri has that small moment of time of thinking.

Should I just take the bullet and quit early so I can get a move on...? ... Nah, I'm not going down like that. he thinks himself as he blocks the bullet, looking up at Lorken with a smirk. He then uses the big man's massive body as sort of a wall as he launches himself away providing some distance. He then winces a bit as he retracts the bone sword and shield back into his body, but manages to stand upright when he chooses to speak to Lorken, removing his jacket and headband. Eh, can't disrespect the big man by trying conventional means and not doing my best, it's not my thing... However...

"Okay, I'll tell ya this; I'm not that great with a sword and shield. The teachers at my old school used to try and ingrain the idea into me, but since we're not in a regular school, I guess I can afford to be a little creative with it, huh?" He then pulls out a small carton of milk and drinks it all. He wipes away his small milk mustache on his face before setting it aside. "I'll pick that up later.," he says before looking straight at Lorken. Okay, so you want me to kill ya? Can't hurt to try."

Yuri then sighs as his forearm becomes surrounded by coiling bone acting as some sort of dermal armor. He has spikes lined up around his knuckles, with him motioning his neck around until it has a rather enjoyable cracking noise. "Well, I know this better than I do sword fighting.", he admits very plainly as he charges at Lorken. He sort of fights like he was in a boxing ring, using his quickness and high defense capabilities to his advantage against the hulking beast of a man.