Jefferson St. John
Location: Front Gate, West Wing
Interacting with: @pkken
Jefferson swore to himself as he looked around. The first day of class and they already had a second entrance exam… he thought. To be entirely honest, his Japanese still wasn’t incredible, but he knew most of what was going on. Probably. All he truly knew was that the gates hadn't opened until 8:15 and those around him were panicking about being on time, so he probably should too.
Regardless, it was fifteen minutes from the beginning of his first class, and he knew all too well what the penalty for absence was. He had to keep his rank up to keep his scholarship, but if he never got the chance to prove himself, no one at home would ever let it go.
These thoughts and others accompanied the foreigner as he sprinted across campus, ducking through the crowd with the agility of a smaller man. Jefferson St. John was many things, but he sure as hell wasn’t slow. Screaming across the grounds, he managed to get ahead of the pack only to find three very large guards standing in front of the main entrance. One shoved a student, and language barrier aside, Jeff got the memo. He took another look at his watch…
8:19.
Fuck.
Following the contours of the building, the American managed to peel off and get through the Left Wing, scrambling up the stairs and slamming the door open. Peering behind him, he saw the horde of students making their way… not too far off. He was going to get jammed in the traffic if he took a breather.
Shaking his head and swearing to himself, he launched into the Left Wing… to find a teacher sitting there, smiling to himself like the cat who got the canary as he gave a friendly reminder that they would be expelled if they were absent. It was a little unnerving, but he was still a far shot from Jeff’s sisters. The student could deal with this.
Taking another look behind him, he saw the horde had made it, and realized that the true challenge here wasn’t getting around the clones, it was getting around everyone else. Thinking fast, Jeff tensed his hand and began to hope for the best, when he heard a voice come from beside him, followed by a booming thunder.
"JET...HUNTING!"
The figure before him launched through the passage, screaming past the duplicates and distracting what equated to the entirety of the hall. It was flashy, effective, and more than likely to catch some attention from the students and faculty involved. In his heart of hearts, Jeff felt a pang of jealousy, but quickly shoved it aside for the fact that the jet boy opened up a brief pause in the crowd. Jeff barreled through, lowering his center of gravity and guarding his face as he made a mad dash through the hall. He had ran fast enough that he had time, he could get to his class. He wasn’t the fastest, he wasn’t the strongest, but by God he was stubborn enough to make the opening count. As long as he could beat the majority of the crowd, he could make it past the duplicates.
It wasn’t glorious, and he was sweating and panting by the time he made it to the classroom, but he arrived. Slamming the door open, covered in paint, minor electrical burns, a few cuts, panting and sweating and glancing at his watch, Jefferson St. John appeared in Class 1-A at 8:28 A.M. exactly. Ever so carefully, he shut the door behind him. Limping slightly, with an animal snarl etched across his face, he took a seat at the front of the classroom. He would have a good view. From his backpack he pulled a No.2 pencil, a sharp pen, and a green-faced notebook.
Flipping it open, careful to avoid getting paint on any of the pages, he drug his pencil across the paper, handwriting neat in the sunlight streaming through the windows.
Homeroom, Day 1.It was time to study.
