STATUS:
Graduation has happened - I am no longer a teacher. Won't have to work 12 hour days + weekends anymore, so maybe I'll actually have enough time for hobbies.
8 mos ago
Current
Graduation has happened - I am no longer a teacher. Won't have to work 12 hour days + weekends anymore, so maybe I'll actually have enough time for hobbies.
10
likes
10 mos ago
I sound like a broken record, but only 2 months left till I'm done teaching. Not sure what's next, but it feels like anything would pay more and be less stressful lol
5
likes
1 yr ago
Only 6 more months till the school years over. If I renew my contract, someone kill me lmao.
3
likes
2 yrs ago
Teacher update: I feel like a villain from a cartoon. The laughter of teenagers gives me migraines, and I no longer feel guilt when giving bad grades to kids that sleep through my lessons.
10
likes
2 yrs ago
First day as a Biology Teacher tomorrow - hopefully the kids will be able to read my handwriting.
A man with a mysterious beauty, he has the smooth voice of a radioman who you want to listen to as you drift to unconsciousness. In fact, that is the most notable thing about Berry - his voice is almost magnetic, easily able to convince people with it's sharp wit and careful tact. He has broad shoulders, and while he is not muscular or particularly large, his face and skin are incredibly beautiful. He spends a great deal of time every single day, doing his best to make his face and general body shape as attractive as possible. This includes a strict diet, dozens of hair care products, and taking only cold showers in order to improve skin and hair softness.
This contrasts heavily with the parts he hides - underneath his clothes he has massive flabs of skin, leftover from his childhood obesity. He is extremely sensitive about this, and refuses to take off his clothes except for changing them and showering, which he does quickly and with his eyes closed. Even feeling his body causes himself great discomfort, not only from disgust, but also because there are many rashes between the folds, caused from his quick showers and a lack of washing between the flabs. To hide this secret, he wears extremely concealing clothing, such as oversized suits or lab coats. One of his biggest wishes is to eventually collect enough money to get surgery and have the skin removed. He is also sensitive about his height, believing himself to be abnormally short, even though he is 5'5. This is nowhere near as sensitive a topic as his skin, however.
Age: 36 Gender: Male Height: 145 lbs Weight: 5'5
Citizenship: American Occupation: Arms Dealer, Lead Researcher and Weapons Expert for the Underground.
While his power's name seems impressive, he is still within human limitations in most subjects. He really shines in the fields of weaponry and robotics, where he is capable of producing masterpieces that far outperform their competition. His skill at creating these devices is almost instinctive, and half the time Berry doesn't even know how he is creating what he does. His creations are clearly superior to their regular counterparts, almost supernaturally so, but are restricted heavily by time to build, the vast number of resources larger/ more complex inventions require, and his own inexperience. Berry had only been building weapons on a relatively small scale, and he has no experience building larger scale weaponry. This doesn't necessarily mean he can't, just that he needs years of research, along with the resources to fund it, something that a group like the Underground is incapable of getting. Research time could be sped up with premade plans/blueprints or a team of researchers.
Since his power is instinctive, it is prone to failing when he is stressed or being rushed, and he is generally useless in a situation where he is without his weapons. Despite being able to, Berry has refused to adopt implants and prosthetics, because he is unsure if the risks are worth it, doesn't want to worry about the maintenance required, and views it as making himself less attractive. He has so far managed to create non-combat exoskeletons, countless variations of already created firearms and melee weapons, and several variants of robotic humanoid minions, all of which having relatively human levels of durability and strength. The only difference among them are that some are equipped with flight units and all are equipped with various weaponry. He does not currently have any of his robots, as they were confiscated by the government a few years ago and Berry has not had the resources to rebuild them. Considering they were relatively relatively weak software-wise and were prone to hacking or freezing in unexpected situations, they were only really good for extremely basic fighting or performing minor tasks. In all honesty, he created the droids because he though girls would think they were cool.
Biography: Born on September 2nd, 1985, Bernard Foreman was nowhere near as illustrious as he is now. He was born to a single mother, and was conceived in the back of a pickup truck on a disgusting winter night. He never met his father, but has been told that he was a celebrity by his mother, the specific one usually changing to match her different taste in men as time went on. Overall, his life wasn't horrible for being a single mother's child - he had three meals a day, had a decent childhood, and was offered all the same opportunities. While Berry hates to admit it, the problems that arose shortly after were no one's fault but his own.
Berry had always been smart - he managed to master reading by the age of 1 and 2 months, and only proceeded at an exponential rate, eventually mastering calculus by the age of 6. People praised him constantly, and he rapidly jumped through grades, managing to Graduate high school at the meager age of 12, without even trying. He refused to enter college, viewing it as a waste of time, instead pursuing his sole interest at the time - becoming a gourmet. Berry, his entire life, loved food - it was the thing he did the most for, the thing he strived to reach and never grew tired of. He used to eat anything, but as time went on, he slowly grew pickier as his tastes refined. Well, he was willing to eat anything still, but he preferred much fancier, more expensive meals. His mother did her best to cooperate, taking on multiple jobs to feed her steadily more conceited and growing boy. By the age of 16, it would not be an understatement to say he was one of the smartest men on earth. He weighed 300 pounds. This was when the incident occurred.
Terror spread like wild fire, constant looting and aggression being commonplace. It was utter chaos, people committing atrocities for the pettiest of reasons. Hell, it wasn't abnormal to see a corpse only a few doorsteps away. Someone 300 pounds obviously wasn't going to survive well in this type of environment, and resources were running out quickly - between the two of them, the food supply they had was already empty. His mother, the caring mother she always was, left to go find food - if she couldn't buy any... well, she'd probably be able to steal some and make it back.
Berry spent the next two days alone in the small, 1 story home. The hunger nearly convinced the boy to escape and look for food, but the sounds of gunshots and screams were too intimidating for the boy. Instead, he stayed curled up with his sole protection - an M14 rifle, left over from a visit from his uncle, a hunter. The day was spent, huddled in a chair or corner, all lights off and windows drawn, doing his best to not draw attention. He was somewhat thankful that his house had a decrepit appearance, as that probably deterred some looters. The entire time he wasn't sleeping, wishing he had some food, or fearing for his life, he chose to look at the rifle. It was honestly very well made - but wouldn't it be nicer if the scope had better magnification? Of that it shot at a higher fps or had a greater range? Countless possibilities flooded his mind as Berry considered possibilities he never had before - under the extreme circumstances, he was thinking of how to kill more efficiently. That was how those two days went - until the door to his home was kicked down. Berry, who was sleeping at the time, barely managed to grab the rifle and point it at the man with the flashlight. After his eyes got used to the sudden light, Berry saw who it was.
Men in riot gear, with the word "POLICE" etched across the chest and riot shields in bold print. Immediate relief overtook Berry and, after surrendering his weapon, he was taken to safety. President Andrews had apparently issued a state of lock down, which Berry was thankful for. After all, it had saved his life. He was fed a small meal, and taken to a government building where dozens of other survivors were gathered. Some had shattered clothes, some were more fed than others... some had blood on them. The entire scenario was horrifying, but the nightmare was finally over. Berry was given refuge in the government building for a week. However, he would live in the local orphanage for 2 years, as his mother was never found. She was given a body less burial, and his uncle was given a regular burial several days later - he was found with several bite marks out of his body, caused by his pets or rabid animals. Overwhelming sadness consumed Berry, having lost the only family members he had ever known. Berry decided to fill the void the only way he knew how - he ate more, ate heavier than he ever had before. After 3 months, he had extreme difficulties walking and, in one incident, fell. Badly. Both legs were broken, and he still walks with a limp in his left to this day. This event, this crushing feeling of helplessness as he recovered in the hospital, sparked him to lose this weight he had been carrying his entire life.
The next two years, Berry lost significant weight, managing to get down to only 230 pounds. This was when he was kicked out of the orphanage - he had officially become an adult, and was no longer allowed to stay. With inherited debt from his mother and uncle, Berry turned to the only thing he knew that would get him the needed money - crime. Using his knowledge of weapons, which he had been collecting ever since he first held the M14 that was his safeguard, and a small loan from the bank, Berry began to sell modified weaponry on the black market.
His reputation quickly soared, and under the moniker of "Quartermaster", he became known for the quality of his products, and the speed at which he produced them. After 3 years, he turned 21, and had finally managed to payback the heavy debts of his mother and uncle, while also managing to keep up the bills of his old home. This was where he lived and operated out of the last few years, and was continuing to lose weight, albeit at a slower rate thanks to the large amount of work he was doing. This was when he began to charge less for his products - now that he was well situated, he didn't need to charge nearly as much as he was earlier. This only made his well-known reputation oar to greater heights, and by the age of 24, nearly every villain in the state came to him for their weapons, and several from outside the state came as well. He weighed 180 pounds, and it was nearly impossible to tell his weight while he wore his signature lab coat. At this point, police began to search for him due to his dealings, but thanks to his massive security measures and the fact he used robots to do his deals, it took a while to be discovered.
As his skill and talent rised, several still-surviving villain groups attempted to get Berry to join them, but he has refused everyone. Not only would it close business opportunities, it also was begging for the authorities to find him. Berry's bank account was decent, he enjoyed what he did, and it rarely caused trouble. He was happy.
The police discovered him at the age of 30.
As a child prodigy, Berry had attracted the attention of many people and, after all these years, people were wondering what he was doing. A news team, coming to his listed residency, were able to see a half-made plasma rifle, contracted by a particularly wealthy businessman for his guard. On the gun was the Quartermaster's signature mark, a black spiral around the barrel of the gun. Being relatively well-known by the public at this point, he was reported to the police, and was soon on the run. His entire home was ransacked, with the government taking all of his weapons and robots. For the next 5 years, Berry lived on the street, hiding from the police and relying on the generosity of others to survive. Villains were now nonexistent, and Berry had nowhere to turn to. He was close to turning himself in, until he remembered that he would almost certainly be killed. He soon resigned himself to his fate, before hearing word on the street. It was only a whisper or two, here and there, but it was enough - there was a group, composed of the heroes and villains of old. They sought to dismantle the oppressive totalitarianism that encompassed the once great nation, and bring bac the era of freedom they once knew. Berry, instead, saw a place that may offer refuge to him.
Theo honestly felt extremely confident - not only because he was Dirk at the moment, but because he seemed to be the most experienced with MMOs in the group. He knew tackling them all at once was the perfect strategy, and doing one at a time was just making things slower. Besides, the only really dangerous quests were the boar quest and the Guard Duty. The boars were probably far outclassed by three players, and were probably weak even by the floor's standards, so those were honestly not too much of a problem... probably. Meanwhile, Guard duty was more dangerous in that it could be a trap. After all, Guard Duty seemed more like a time wasting quest than anything, and considering this admin supposedly tapped them in the game, he probably wasn't going to go that easy. And even if it was just as it said, it still wasted time, and should be saved for last. Surely, the others would agree. Aster was the first to do so, waiting for a little while to read the longer, actual requests. In all honesty, Theo hadn't even thought of doing so, and didn't really care - after all, they were probably just a rehashed "Please help, kind stranger" thing, and Theo was too anxious to start moving. Wasting time was detrimental in an MMO, at least near the beginning - they take dozens, if not hundreds of hours to grind a level 1 character to proper raiding level, and that is in games with max level caps. Talrae not only didn't have a max level, but had over a hundred floors, each being massive in size...
Theo was snapped out of thought by Aster and Kajin waiting at the door, having already accepted all the quests, silently shaking himself to alertness, he followed behind them, traveling at a slow jog to keep up with their walk. The travel time was relatively short - these were starting mobs, and were only a short walk away from the city. Just as the quest suggested, the boars were near the road, which explained how they attacked people. Kajin had been explaining the strategy, which Theo understood and approved of - pulling aggro from a distance was smart, as that would do a decent amount of damage and pull a single mob away from the group. While it most likely cost mana to launch a magic attack, Theo thought that it was worth it - after all, if Kajin ran out of mana, they could just head back to the city and rest up. Besides, a single boar could be taken out by one of them most likely, let alone 3.
“Alrighty ladies and gentlemen, I guess it’s time to get down to business! I think we should stay here and let me use Frostbite to pull aggro initially and when they get closer Dirk can aggravate them off me, allowing Aster to follow up with attacks from behind without getting in harm’s way. I’ll stay close to Dirk so the time it takes to change targets doesn’t get me hurt either. Unless you guys want to try something else, just let me know when we want to start this.”
Theo slowly stalked to Kajin's side, ready to leap in front of him the second he finishes casting his Frostbite. He nodded at Kajin's plan.
"Got it! Sounds like the perfect plan!"
Theo flashed a toothy smile and winked, before drawing his sword and preparing.
"Oh, and Aster - you don't have to, but try and finish off the boar as quick as possible. I only got 6 uses of Aggravate before I run out of mana, so make each second count."
Theo's voice wasn't cheery and light-hearted as he said this. In fact, this was the most serious Theo had been since he entered the game. He wasn't nervous in the slightest - it was almost eerie. Despite all the evidence, he refused to accept that they would die upon death. It was simply ridiculous, killing people in a game...
The only thing more eerie was that he didn't even think about being stuck in the game. Hell - Theo may actually enjoy it. He always wanted to be someone he wasn't, he constantly sought escapism and playing in another person's shoes. This was his chance. He sure as hell wasn't going to tell the other's though - Dirk was a cool football player in the real world, not some nerd who wanted to be someone else even though his life was good. Quickly, Theo shook these thoughts from his head.
The chance of death was still a possibility, no matter how unlikely. And Theo wasn't going to risk testing the theory that death wasn't real. He gripped the sword tightly, feeling the handle dig into his bare flesh slightly. it was comfortable, compared to the heavy buckler he held in the other hand. They both felt so real...
How would pain feel? Was he smart to pick the tank role? Wait, focus - Theo's eyes narrowed, and he was prepared to run forwards the second the frostbite connected.
Barely seconds had passed - the words had barely managed to escape his lips when he simply couldn't take it. This hell hole was terrifying. He was in a hotel that he didn't recognize in the slightest, what looked like a forest was just outside the broken door, and he had enough food for maybe 3 days. and even then, the water situation was far worse. It didn't matter who the hell this lady was - any human interaction, any chance to find out what the hell was happening - that was all that he needed. He walked swiftly, holding the pocket knife in his pocket while trying to look calm. He turned to face the stairway, and found her.
She was white haired, fair skinned, significantly shorter than Brent. He honestly couldn't care less. As the seconds ticked by, he grew more and more paranoid, fearful of the situation they were in. She was standing, looked unhurt, and had a similar pack like Brent had. He kept his hand in his pocket, thankful there was another human but not willing to leave himself open. She must have had a knife, just like him.
"...Do you know where the hell we ar-"
Before he could finish, a mysterious blue light began to emanate from the eye holes of a picture, hanging crooked against the wall. The blue light caused Brent to jump, flinging the pocket knife down the stairs by accident. He nearly dove for it, before the light took the form of the woman, and began to speak. Not from the hologram, of course - there were no speakers there. The voice came from behind that same picture frame, sounding crisp and mocking. Brent probably would have thought of it as a joke had he not been in literally the middle of nowhere, lost and with apparently 3 days worth of supplies. Several things poked out to him, such as the second and third rule... Why did she discourage taking the chip out by threatening death, then immediately say that suicide was impossible? There was no drawback for a suicidal person to dig out the chip - either they successfully do it and bleed out, or they are paralyzed and the machines kill them. Of course... Brent wasn't suicidal in the slightest. He was nearly pissing himself how afraid he was, in all honesty. He hadn't even noticed there was a USB with the supplies - it must have been too dark. In his peripheral vision, however, he saw his knife glinting in the sun, right next to the USB - he must have taken it out accidentally along with the knife.
Eventually, the hologram vanished, and Brent slowly made his way to his knife, being sure to keep the girl in sight. If this "Persephone" was to be believed, then killing a participant was perfectly allowed - in fact, that would be encouraged - you just got 3 more days of extra supplies, a bag, and a new knife. He sure as hell wouldn't do it, but he wasn't about to trust some random girl he met in a broken down hotel... Eventually, he made it to the bottom and, as he bent down to pick up the USB, he noticed the color wasn't black - Just an incredibly dark Green, with brown, barely visible text across the side reading Forest. He placed both objects into his pocket, and got back to his feet. The joy he had felt earlier at meeting another person had now turned to a burning sense of fear. He had to find this mysterious "Halloween" in three days time, or else... what? He'd lose? What did that entail? If it meant going back home, he'd do it in a heartbeat, but considering this monster kidnapped him from his goddamn home and had the audacity to make him play in her little game, he highly doubted that it'd be that easy. He turned back around, and spoke out.
"So... I'm Brent. I'm gonna... Well, I'm gonna head on out, look for this "Halloween" guy that she talked about. I don't want to know what will happen if I run out of time, so... If you wanna come along and look for your partner too, that's cool."
He sounded a hell of a lot calmer than he felt. To be honest, he really wanted her to come - she could help him look for Halloween, and if they needed to sleep, they could do it in shifts. He didn't want to be outside with all the forest animals in the dark, but he'd feel a hell-of a lot safer with another person. Hell, he didn't even want to look for this Halloween guy - the only reason he was ready to drop everything and start searching was because the faster he found this guy, the quicker he got out of this hell hole and could report this psycho to the police. Brent turned already began to make his way towards the door. He already wasted enough time, and they could walk and talk. He began to make his way towards the door, moving at a steady, if slightly fast pace. Unfortunately, he didn't even notice that he never asked the girl for her name, or even what color her USB was.
Karada slowly began to fix his disheveled appearance, slipping on his shirt and jacket, and then finishing with the tie that hung loosely around his neck. He still hadn't showered, but he did so pretty late the day before, so maybe noone would notice. Soon everyone gathered, congregating around the impressive man in front of them... Well, everyone except the blond guy and harpoon boy. Those two seemed to still remain in their rooms, which Karada didn't know would be possible in this extreme sound - they couldn't possibly be that heavy of sleepers, could they? Instead, Karada noticed that, out of the two shorties, Rikkawas far less prepared - her clothes were a mess, she was missing a shoe, and her tie wasn't even on... It honestly looked like she was trying to look like a delinquent, but forgot delinquents had shoes... and weren't that short.
A flash of movement took Karada by surprise as Lorken shot out, slamming his fist into Kaz's stomach. It seemed like he was holding back, but still, the intent and technique were still there. This sudden punch reminded Karada of his own wound - he ignored it when he jumped out of bed this morning, but it was lightly throbbing with pain, alerting him to it's presence. Karada was so preoccupied with this feeling, he barely even noticed Lorken talk about the broken painting, but quickly snapp3ed his attention forwards when he heard his own name.
"Karada and Gankona. The mess in my fucking kitchen. Nobody bothered to pick up after themselves before retiring, leaving the scene without any effort on your parts to right the wrong. Congratulations on becoming the new house janitors."
Karada successfully managed to catch one of the rooms thrown his way, but the bucket soared, hitting him squarely in the injured leg. Karada had a slight intake of breath, but did his best to mask the pain on his face. He couldn't show weakness. Instead, he chose to focus on the house janitor part - why the hell were they the janitors? He understood the punishment part, but wasn't the beard guy supposed to have a job around here? Unless his sole job is driver, which is useless considering every student lives on campus.
"You want to disrespect your roles as heroes that's fine. But I'll be long dead and buried before I let half-idiots like the two of you ruin my sanctuary."
Karada normally would have given a glare for a comment like that, but he instead chose to remain perfectly still, ready to activate his quirk at a moments notice. Nobody calls him a bad hero - nobody. The scene almost would have been tense, had Karada not been practically standing on 1 foot and holding a broom in both hands.
"Gankona and Karada, you will be cleaning up the broken wood and blood from yesterdays initiation. Don't expect any help or any food until the job is done right. Kazuto, for spraying a classmate with bug spray you are going to assist them. I expect the walls of my gymnasium to sparkle, and the back lawn to be cut. Push mower is in the back shed. As for Rikka, you will be dealing with every mirror and window on the property. I expect this all done before the practical combat training this afternoon. Dismissed."
Karada immediately picked up the bucket at his feet, leaving the mop and other brooms for Gank to collect. After collecting them, he started to move, heading for the way upstairs. The second he made it to the gymnasium, he planned on immediatly starting the cleaning process. He sure as hell didn't want to be the guy mowing - he already hadn't showered, so he didn't want to stink very badly... While walking, Karada did wonder - how would the others do? Gank seemed like the type to get bored very quickly, and Kaz was short so he would have difficulties reaching the walls pf the gym, even with a step ladder... But in all seriousness, Karada didn't know enough about Kaz to make a good judgement. Hopefully, he was like Karada, who spent hours every day doing disciplined training alone. Karada knew if he could handle that with relative ease, this would be simple... Well, except for reaching the high walls and cleaning the smell of sweat out of everything... and the blood. He knew that blood stained like a bitch, especially since he took a look at his ruined dress pants.
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