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Joseph Rex

"Yep."

0 · 708 views · located in The City of Anthemia

a character in “Anthemia Academy for Hunters”, as played by Zalgo

Description

Joseph Rex

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"Politicians on the right, Daemons on the left and here I am stuck in the middle."




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NAME: Joseph Rex

AGE: 18

HEIGHT: 6'4"

GENDER: Male

HOMELAND: Aeralis

PRIMARY CLASS: Slayer

SECONDARY CLASS: Summoner



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LIKES:
✔ Frank, his summon
✔ Sleeping
✔ Good food
✔ Taking things apart
✔ Honesty
✔ Fighting
✔ Taking things easy
✔ Comedy

DISLIKES:
✘ Liars
✘ Hypocrites
✘ Authorities
✘ Busybodies
✘ Snobs
✘ Preachers
✘ Bullies
✘ Irrationality
✘ Mindless optimism
✘ Self righteousness
✘ Arguments
✘ Gossip
✘ Drama
✘ Popularity
✘ Stereotypes
✘ Crowds
✘ Strong Emotions
✘ Taking anything too seriously
✔ Being put on the spot
✘ Relationships
Anyone who threatens Frank

STRENGTHS:
Strength - His background involved a lot of heavy lifting and pulling things apart so he's gotten quite strong. Even for a slayer his strength is quite formidable. Though he is strong his build doesn't necessarily show it off too much since he is tall and lean. His build is more akin to a gymnasts rather than the typical body builder appearance most commonly associated with strong people.

Stamina - His background involved a lot of physically exhausting activities so he's built up his stamina to the point where he rarely gets physically fatigued. He can sprint, make great leaps and lift rather heavy things and barely break a sweat. The same quality applies to his magic. Given how his magic is at the present time he finds it difficult to feel much fatigue from using it. Often times this drives him to push his magic harder to try and get more out of it and test his limits.

Toughness - Toughness is one of his most notable qualities. He can withstand punishment from enemies that would break most hunters. Even amongst other slayers in his grade he is a prime example of sheer endurance, rivaling hunters that clad themselves in armor and use shields as well as other assorted protections both physical and magical even though he wears very little protection himself. His only real defensive magic is the passive effect which makes his body more resilient the more injured he gets. Even without magic it would take a great deal of harm to drop him in combat as he is highly tolerant of pain and capable of fighting with wounds that would incapacitate most slayers lacking defensive magic. With his passive magic effect active it is technically possible to take him down by hitting him with a fatal blow while he's fresh but if he doesn't fall to that attack right away any damage it causes him will enhance his toughness greatly. When he's gravely injured he is a veritable machine that just won't quit until he's torn apart or healed back up again.

Parkour - He spent his whole childhood in large broken down ruins and a great big scrap yard, of course he is going to do a lot of running and playing in it. Given how much time he's spent doing little else but getting around the safer sections of Aeralis he's gotten to be pretty agile. His parkour skills are a big part of what makes him so fit in present time since it is a very physically active practice. He's able to quickly travel by foot across urban locations and even quicker at going through broken down post apocalyptic city ruins. Besides that he's just fairly acrobatic which comes in handy in many situations.

Observation - Being a quiet fellow who tends to keep his mind in the moment he spends a lot of time looking at the details around him. He's no savant like the scholars but he isn't an idiot either. He can pick up on details people often overlook because he isn't as worried about the complexities of socialization, looking at everything from an outside perspective. This especially applies in hectic situations as he always tends to keep his focus, rarely losing his cool. His situational awareness is quite keen and often proves to be a decisive asset towards his success.

WEAKNESSES:
Magic - He doesn't have a great mindset for magic. He's smart enough to learn the practice but he sees little use for any magic that doesn't directly benefit Frank. As such his magical repertoire is quite limited.

Environment - He is a highly environment dependent caster. While he is in his element in areas of significant destruction or decay he and Frank have much less to draw on in pristine and clean environments where everything is nice and working well.

Leadership - He's not a great leader. While he works well enough as a follower, listening to the plans and carrying out his part, he struggles with commanding and directing a team. He's naturally very quiet and laid back, not exactly good qualities for driving and motivating groups of people.

Social - He's not a very social person. While he's capable of interacting and working with people he doesn't share much and tends to keep a lot of his thoughts to himself, not really keen on bothering people with his whims. If he needs something done he does it himself rather than go and ask for help of any sort. He plays everything very cool and generally seems quite laid back mostly as a result of his disdain for opening up in any significant fashion to anyone else.

Dependance - He's very close to Frank and vise versa. Frank is his best friend and perhaps his only friend as he rarely considers anyone to be his friend due to the fact he rarely lets anyone know him too personally. Frank is the major exception to his rather reclusive behavior as he shares everything with his summon and talks with it more openly than he would with anyone else. Should anything very unfortunate happen to Frank he would be devastated.

PERSONALITY:
At first he really comes of as just some really laid back guy. The truth of it all is that is isn't easy being as chilled out as he is about things. Much like anyone who had to grow up in Aeralis he's got his own problems to work out.

He's a rather quiet guy in general. Beyond fighting and taking out daemons and stuff he doesn't really put any effort into socializing with anyone. Generally he keeps his dialogue minimal and it's quite rare for him to elaborate on anything. The truth of the matter is that given just how few people he's spoken to back when it was just him and his family out in the ruins of Aeralis he's most comfortable keeping to himself and just following the plan. Considering how his parents never got along with each other and were mostly miserable the only conversations he's ever liked having were with his older brother.

He finds it helps him get along with people best when he doesn't talk. When he does talk he keeps it short and separates his opinions from his statements. On the plus side he's a fairly good listener and tends to avoid creating any sort of drama. Besides being a quiet individual he's fairly even tempered almost all of the time. There is very little in the world that can break his cool. Overall he's a live and let live kind of guy who prefers to let the world sort it's problems out and prefers to enjoy the simpler things in life.

Given that he's tough as nails, got a hefty tolerance for pain and actually finds violence entertaining the only thing that seems to bother him is arguing with people. Well, arguing and threats made towards his fae friend Frank. He takes threats towards Frank very seriously and those who act on that threat will know his wrath and remember it well if they survive.


Seeing as how he spent most of his life in a scrap yard he sees most things as junk. All these flashy items and accessories everyone else seems to have all end up in the same place in the end and yet they place much value in these temporary things. He sees little value in material possessions, treasuring very little including himself. That is not to say he'll throw away his life needlessly but he isn't above sacrificing himself for something he cares more about. Luckily for him he doesn't care about much else but Frank. He'd die to protect Frank and Frank would die to protect him. They are extremely close friends and though Frank can't speak their bond is undeniably mutual.

He doesn't like to do things. Given the choice he'd much rather just hang out with Frank and just do whatever is interesting enough to bother doing. He isn't lazy despite how it might seem. If he's motivated he can put a lot of effort and keep a professional attitude towards getting what needs to get done finished. He's just passionless, uninterested in most things. He struggles to care about his future or even himself and often times even thinking about the future can be somewhat depressing for him given his somewhat cynical tendencies. At present time he just concerns himself with things that even mildly interest him, no real goals or objectives in life to really pursue. The only thing he really needs in life is Frank and he's got him so everything is good right now. Why would he want to disrupt that?



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WEAPONS:
Wrench

His wrench is conjured using his summoning magic and yet it's still rusty and old. The handle of the wrench is about three and a half feet long making it an effective two handed weapon. It's head is about half as large as a fully grown human's head. Because it's rusty, old and not very complex like other harder to construct weapons like katanas or guns this weapon can be summoned very quickly. If it is broken or destroyed it is not very difficult to resummon it in the state it was originally summoned in.

MAGICK:
His primary magical focus is summoning. Despite his main focus being summoning he only has one fae working under him at the present time. He can conjure a wrench but that's about it. He's less into slayer training but he still does it mostly because he doesn't want to make Frank do all the work by himself.

There is a side magic he has on passively which helps him in combat. This power hardens his body in proportion to the damage he's taken. In essence, the more hurt he gets the harder he is to hurt.

FAMILIARS:
Frank the Trash Dragon

Frank is not an ordinary sort of dragon. This being in it's most basic state is a living heart about the same size as a human heart. The heart does not require sustenance of any kind and can be handled normally without suffering in any sort of way. When the heart is active it enigmatically pulsates every few seconds like it would if it were still in a living creatures chest. This heart has an invisible force around it that pulls all trash in sight onto the heart, forming a body out of the pieces. It's requirements for an item to be viable for addition to it's body is that said item either has to be broken, deformed from it's intended shape or degraded sufficiently. The force does not adhere to any living organic material. The heart can hear and understand words just fine but cannot make any vocal sound. The heart can see just fine despite the evident lack of eyes and is even able to see clearly past it's own amalgamated body.

The body this being creates always takes the shape of a dragon though it can have variations based on different dragon body types. This body always has a tail and a dragon shaped head. The legs and wings are optional and are often excluded from the design if the body is small, using more parts to add to the size of the body instead of adding limbs until it gains sufficient size. The force has a maximum limit as to how much mass can be added onto the body. The upper limit for the body's size grows in proportion to Joe's magical power. If a part of the body is broken off the force can simply grab a hold onto the piece that was broken off or any nearby trash in sight and simply fill in what's missing. The force can exert a certain level of pull over any object deemed trash but if the object is held down and simply won't move given the level of exertion the force applies then it simply can't add it to the body. The force cannot add any trash that is not immediately visible.

When the heart is dormant it turns into stone, remaining still until it is called upon. The summon is easy and fast to activate. When activated the stone covering the heart will crumble away to dust, revealing the dragon heart underneath which will start to beat again. Joe typically keeps the heart safe in his toolbox whenever it's dormant.

SKILLS:
Breaking Things - Joe seems to have an uncanny talent for breaking things. He's had to take stuff apart most of his life so he's gotten quite good at it but even when he doesn't intend to break anything something somehow manages to get broken. It's just in his nature.

Fixing Things - As things have a tendency to break around him he's gotten quite used to fixing things. Seeing as how in Aeralis almost everything is broken the ability to jury rig something is invaluable and he's picked up on some handy tricks of the trade. He's no technopath or even a machinist of any kind but with the right tools and some duct tape he can make do with what's around. His brother was always better at fixing things up than him however.

MISCELLANEOUS:
Joe has a toolbox that he keeps his summon in as well as a variety of tools with various uses.

So begins...

Joseph Rex's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Willow Petra Uskose Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Nino Mitsuki Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto
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#, as written by Zalgo
Joe & Frank


Crash! Crunch! "2-2-'BZZZRT-1-3" Zap, Crunch.

A cacophony of metallic crushing and electronic buzzing sounds just barely reached Joe through the haze of his sleep. He slowly opened his eyes, the sunlight burning as it met with his vision. After a few moments Joe found himself where he last left himself going to bed last night: A bench out on school grounds, Frank wrapped around his area. His summon, a rather significantly large trash dragon named Frank, had just swatted a robot who had made the time old mistake of walking up to a dragon without loudly announcing itself. Then again, to the untrained optic sensor his dragon looked like little more than a trash heap when prone.

"Ah heck. They're probably gonna charge me fer that." Joe shrugged. "Ah well, don't matter none too much. Never had much a need for money. Just means I'm gonna need ta find some meals fer a bit." Lazily he picked himself off the bench and stretched. The remains of the robot were pulled into Frank. The pieces that weren't completely crushed into slag in the first hit were ground into pure junk by the shifting wood, steel and stone that comprised of it's body. Raising it's head Frank was about the size of a small warehouse in both height at the shoulder and length from nose to tail tip. With the robot slag pulled into it it was now at the cusp of it's maximum mass limit. It was not an inconsiderable creature but Joe felt it could use to be bigger, something he hoped he would figure out how to do at this school.


Despite having had barely woken up Joe recalled the numbers the flattened robot blurted out in it's last moments. "That probably somethin' important. I'd better do some sleuthin'." He concluded, walking on his way to find something corresponding with the numbers. Given their arrangement they seemed to relate closest to room numbers. Either that or it was a phone number it didn't get to finished. He'd find out soon enough.

Joe hadn't had any missions since the last teacher died and quite frankly he didn't mind all that much. The free time gave him plenty of peace and quiet but there was always those rumors that buzzed around about inactive students getting booted. He wasn't really scared of that but getting tossed out would be inconvenient. He wanted to find out as much as he needed to know from this place before ditching it like his last place and taking to the road.


When he got to the entrance to the building he looked up to Frank. The dragon's face was expressionless as it was just a bunch of garbage arranged into a dragon shaped head but he could still tell it wasn't happy with him going somewhere it couldn't fit. It was just a knack Joe picked up after all these years of living with Frank. "Look buddy, I swear I'm not going to be too far out of reach. I think the room probably has a window you can look through. I'll call 'ya over when I find it alright? Try not to wreck anything alright?" He reassured Frank. The dragon sat down and simply waited, a clear enough signal for Joe to go through with it.

Eventually he found the door with the number the robot had blurted out in it's death throes. "Well, hope I ain't wrong here." He spoke mostly to himself as he pushed his way in through the door. Inside was a rather eclectic gathering of the more unusual students. There was a teacher he didn't really know anything about and well, that was about it. He'd of cared more about the details but he didn't think it was of much importance. Simply striding through he went over and opened a window, sticking his head out. He gave a loud sharp whistle which rang out across the general area. "Yo, Frank! I found the right place!" He yelled out hoping Frank heard him. He turned away from the window a moment over towards the teacher. "This is the right place, right?" He asked, hoping he didn't just walk into a classroom uninvited and disrupt everything. That would be mildly embarrassing, nothing too bad for him though. The biggest nuisance would be having to explain himself.

The whole room shuddered with each step of it's large feet. It was a gentle rumble at first but as it got closer the room shook quite a bit as Frank parked himself right outside the window, causing one last big thud as it sat. Though it didn't seem to have eyes of any sort it's head was looking in through the windows at Joe. "See Frank, I told 'ya it was gonna be fine." He told Frank through the open window. It's blank emotionless mass of trash that he calls a head didn't change at all but Joe was sure it got the idea. With that said Joe grabbed the seat closest to the window, always welcoming a chance to sit and rest whenever he gets the chance.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Cuddy Vann Character Portrait: Willow Petra Uskose Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Nino Mitsuki
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#, as written by Kapento
Cuddy Vann



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It was very strange, even still, to be this far from his sandy homeland. Cuddy, although thrilled to be at the Academy could not help but desire to see even an inch of sand once more. Just think of the sandcastles! But he'd put this behind him for now. There was more important things at hand to contend with. Such as the particular android that had been hunting down Cuddy that morning, with a supposedly important message for him, and unfortunately had found the boy hiding in an old closet. Why? Well why not dude! Where else you gonna hide?

"Vann, Cuddy, your home room has been changed to second floor room, 2213, you will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan during your mornings here at Anthemia, do you have any inquiries?" The android spoke in a matter-of-fact soulless voice.

"A-Ah don't think so! But if I eva' do then I'll be sure to let you know." The blonde boy answered cheerfully, his purple-y orbs glancing curiously over the talking-thing. What was it again? Android. Cuddy was still coming to grips with all the gizmos that the academy had, least of all the androids. It wasn't like he was completely oblivious to them but the little chit-chatty things were something of an annoyance to him now and again. Especially since they always managed to find him. "Oh well, ta-ta for now I guess. Next time tho' I'll win that round!"

Grabbing his things together and throwing a bag halfheartedly over his shoulder the boy made sure to be prepared for whatever came his way that day, taking a moment to double-check once more, before finally continuing on his way down the hallway. The android took it's leave and rushed off past him, Cuddy merely huffing with a shrug before walking just a little bit quicker. I better not be late or I'll look bad yo!

His hurried walk gradually shifted into a panicked run as the boy made his way to the designated classroom. Naturally, what with all the hurrying and mad-dashing, Cuddy arrived in time. With a deep breath and forced coolio demeanour the blonde lad sported his commonly used smile and stepped into the room. By the looks of it there was already a bunch load of people there before him, but he wasn't worried. Promptly walking over to the desk of Mr. Donovan the boy thought best to let his attendance be known. He sure-as-hell wasn't getting marked as absent!

"Oh, hello Mr. Donovan, sir! I'm Cuddy Vann. I hope am' not late or nothin'." With a somewhat chilled approach to his teacher Cuddy merely widened his smile in hopes of things getting off to a good start. "Well, I best be gettin' to my seat and all, a-- Oh yeah, your thee Asher Donovan? Wow-oh-wow I can't believe it! Hey I'm a real fan a--" Beneath all the rambling a quiet little inner voice deep in his head was telling Cuddy to shut-up. Needless to say it took a few more minutes before the boy took any notice. "Ah, sorry I best be goin'!"

Turning on his heel the student moved along and sat himself down on one of the seats towards the front. He hadn't really took the time to notice who exactly was in his class, but after spinning round on his seat the blonde lad eyed up all the faces near and around him, only really vaguely knowing a few. Oh well. He figured he'd get to know them soon enough anyway. For now he'd just behave himself at least.

Throwing his bag to the floor and chilling in his chair Cuddy waited to see what happened next. However, the whole lookin' cool and doin' not a lot act didn't last long. Before he knew it the boy dug out an old what-dah-call-it and was fiddling around and tinkering as always.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Cuddy Vann Character Portrait: Willow Petra Uskose Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Nino Mitsuki
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#, as written by YuumanN
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For the first time in a while, the thought came to him again.

“Well, these things happen.”

Months had passed, and Lev still couldn’t think of anything more than that apathetic phrase when the image of their former teacher, killed in a mission, appeared in his mind. Admittedly, this somewhat worried him.

It had been the first time in his life a person close to him – at least in the sense that they saw each other almost every day – was taken by Daemons and, contrary to what he had initially expected, it didn’t affect him that much. It did take him by surprise when he heard the news and even got him wondering how such a tragedy could have occurred to a Huntress he had always perceived as careful and reliable, but minutes later he was more preoccupied with how he would face his numerous fees with the limited budget he received from the Academy and the following weekend he hadn’t spared a single second of thought on her.

He didn’t appear to be the only one though. Fellow Hunters seemed at a loss during the week when she died, wondering if the incident had occurred due to a malfunction, a mistake or an irregularity of a different sort, but eventually people ran out of curiosity on the matter and it was as good as settled. It made sense; they were at war and even if they didn’t have access to the exact numbers as they were still in training, students in the Academy could figure out many men and women died each day. Daemons didn’t rest or mourn, and there was no noticeable sign that their numbers were decreasing, so how could humanity spare time and resources for those who had fallen?

Still, this woman had shared wisdom with those who would become the next generation of humanity’s vanguard against Daemons to ensure its survival in the future, and in her spare time joined Hunters in the field to fight like a soldier. There was no way that such a lifestyle had left her any time to form a family of her own or pursue any ambitions. Almost her entire life, from late childhood to death, had been sacrificed to fight for humanity, which was more than the overwhelming majority of people could say, and still it was most likely that a decade from now no one would remember her face or even her name. No; that was a privilege that was saved only for those who knew when to die, made beautiful speeches to earn a cozy seat in one of the major cities’ government or, even better, were willing to print their faces on pop magazines so that a new generation of teenagers could grow up with propaganda-fueled dreams of unrealistic glory.

But
“these things happen” indeed.

Maybe what bothered Lev was the acknowledgement that, as selfish and despicable as this society that ignored the genuine devotion of a brave woman resulted to him, he would still prove exactly the same as them.

Perhaps, despite his attempts to convince himself that he was fighting for mankind and not for himself, he was scared of facing the fact that his efforts would still make him no more than a nameless soldier in history at most.

Or maybe he had too much free time to spend thinking on pointless trails of thought.


“OI! OI LEV! FUCKING OI!”

Suddenly, the surrounding background he had been pushing back in his mind brusquely recovered its colors and life; the sound of heavy machinery at work and raspy voices of middle-aged men and women screaming obscenities at each other echoed in his eardrums again and demanded his attention, prompting him to wonder how he had been able to space out in the first place. He sought the voice that called his name through the framed visor of his face shield and soon spotted a short-haired and generously bearded man he recognized as Gene, one of the more experienced workers and student supervisors.

“Sum n’droid ‘ere s’got a messige for ya or sumthin’. It’s in da way, so go lissen to it so it leaves awlready!” he said, not bothering to hide his irritation or the fact that he was in a hurry.

Lev freed one of his hands to signal an ‘ok’ to his boss, who stormed off expressing his distaste for androids in mumbles to no one in particular, making an exemplary use of the word ‘fuck’ and all its known variables plus a few others. Good guy though. Occasionally.

Putting his tools away, Lev made his way to the entrance of the Academy’s arsenal, where he had been spending all his mornings for the past few months. All Scholar students in their last obligatory year were required to complete a certain amount of hours of actual work in their discipline, among other tasks, and seeing as he already visited the arsenal with some frequency, it was no surprise he ended up resorting to it to complete his academic duties. He had actually fulfilled this requirement some time ago, but since he had no morning classes ever since the death of his home room teacher, he preferred spending his time there helping with the avalanche of work the mechanics found themselves underneath of due to the increased frequency of Hunter deployments.

Every single day there were new jeeps, tanks, boats, swords, guns, androids and ammunition to repair, upgrade or manufacture, and they were always running late. Able hands were never missing and there were no restrictions on going over the minimum service hours, so Lev’s presence was always welcomed and appreciated. Besides, this way he got to see all sorts of newly developed machinery, even if he wasn’t allowed to actually work on the most expensive ones.

He opened the entrance door and, sure enough, an android waited with infinite patience on the other side. Standing uncomfortably close to Lev, it seemed to instantly identify him.

“Keisting, Lev. Your home room has been changed to second floor room, 2-2-1-3, you will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan during your mornings here at Anthemia. Do you have any inquiries?”

Expecting a less relevant message, it took the young man a few seconds to process what he had heard. He checked his ancient wristwatch and briefly wondered why he would be notified in such a short notice of his new schedule, but figured his intercom, which he had left in the locker room, would be filled with messages of failed attempts to communicate with him a while ago.

“No, you can go.” He finally answered the android’s question as he remembered it was still waiting for his response without the slightest sign of apprehension, and instantly closed the door on it. The last ad Lev had heard consisted on a jingle with choreography included, which only made him feel ashamed on the robot’s behalf. Besides, some of the mechanics in the armory had taken to vandalizing the robots as a way to express their discontent when they showed up merely to promote their commercial, and if any of them saw it, it could only mean trouble for everyone.

Having no time to waste, Lev broke the news to Gene and left for his dorm, where he had to fight a mountain of broken machinery and spare parts to get to the bathroom. He showered, changed into his uniform and saved the disassembled parts of his firearms into a wheeled bag in record time, taking special care with his ‘Stingray’ sniper rifle.

Even with the heavy additional weight, he managed to keep a good pace and found his new classroom in only a few minutes despite being more concentrated on trying to remember where he had heard the name Asher Donovan rather than keeping track of where he was going. Before entering, he stationed and chained the large bag outside the class, seeing as it was too large to keep inside without it inconveniencing people. Though he did notice Noel appreciating the view through a window with a distinct air of nostalgia around her, he had no words of encouragement to share, and decided to go straight into the unknown.

As he stepped into the classroom and took in the image of his new teacher and classmates, he waited a few seconds to gather his thoughts. He finally remembered why Asher’s name seemed so familiar, and recognized his face from the cover of one of those magazines some girls around the Academy always seemed to have at hand. Although he was sure his new professor was a reliable and capable Hunter, the idea of learning under a pop idol didn’t fascinate him, and for many reasons. He then turned his attention towards the students; most of them seemed to be busy doing their own things, one of them was asleep, and there was a dragon sculpture made of trash peeking through a window… good vibrations all ‘round.

“Mornin’” he greeted the room with an unenthusiastic tone, briefly noticing in terror that Gene's dialect was slowly rubbing off on him. “Lev Keisting.” he added when he noticed the checklist on top of Asher’s desk.

With nothing to add or comment, Lev scanned the room for a free seat and headed straight for the last row. The only ones close to being neighbors to him were Caesar and Lorelei, both having already taken the corners of the classroom and each sitting a distance of two or three desks away from him. Having nothing more to do, he sat back and patiently waited for the rest of the students to show up.