Grey Academy (Peacekeeper training/Accepting/Open)

[Plazmamonkey]

((Merry Christmas))  

[Noltic]

((happy festivus))  

[Plazmamonkey]

"Lizzy, wake me when it starts" Arose said stretching and falling asleep quite quickly.  

[Noltic]

Vergil laughed. He smiled over at her and winked in a povacative manner.

"that was a sex joke dear beatrix. It seems you have been lacking in the company aspect of life. You know, if what you whispered was true, among those toher things, i feel inclined to test my boudaries a little bit.... how much would a politician's daughter let go i wonder?"

Vergil edged closer to her on the bench and reached slyly around her to brush the hari on the opposite side of her head over her shoulder. Smiling evilly the entire time.  

[Noltic]

Vergil's anger flared, he was only human, and he could only take so much serious attitude. If she'd brushed him off comically he would probably have laughed, but something about the stuck up way she looked on the situation really got under his skin.

He sat at ease but the daggers in his voice were apparent.

"Look im sorry im not up to your standards of social custom and while im at ti could you also forgive me for thinking your threats hollow. I havent had the best treatment from your nationalist followers, and im not sure your dear old dad could do things much worse then blow me away with an assault rifle from 4 feet away after ive already surrendered."

He stood up and went to leave, but he turned back around.

"You know for a little while anyways i thought your evil society had churned out at least one good person... its too bad i was wrong."

Vergil stalked off through the crowd of people to sit on a bench alone. He leaned against the table behind him and glared at anyone who made their way toward him. His anger wasnt exactly subsided, and he didnt think company was the best thing for him right now.

He swore to himself one last time as he looked back at her across the room. Now though she was only a respresentation of rigorous social decorum and stupid bullshit that gave people the complete wrong set of values. The kind of values that made you an executioner more than a soldier.  

[Noltic]

Nich smirked. he watched her cross her arms in contempt, but he could tell it was a frront. She hadnt crossed her arms in her regular decorum since he'd known her.

He knew he had hit her hard, and he had a certain satisfaction in knowing that, but he knew that if so much as a grimace crossed her face he would be apologizing in a moment.

He couldnt stand a female's pain. It was the worst thing in the world for him. It seemed chivalry wasnt dead to him. he grimaced then in irony and sighed as he thought to himself. He tried to catch her eye then but stopped himself before he succeeded. He didnt know why but he wanted to check on her.  

[SpokenSoftly]

((I sent in a teacher profile. How long until I can expect a response?))  

[Plazmamonkey]

(Whenever the head comes back I think he is on holiday should be back soon though)

P.s arn't you in 3rd squad  

[Thunder-King01]

((Sorry, my laptop powercord broke and need to get a new one))  

[SpokenSoftly]

((Ouch. You seen my profile?))  

[SpokenSoftly]

Dr. Advent placed the finishing touches on his third arm. More precisely, he was placing the finishing ouches on his third arm, Model #94. He was at the same time finishing up, progressing on, or theorizing about seventeen other projects around his office, which was packed to the seams with technomantical mishmash and was roughly twice the size of a regulation football field, and as such was located in the sub-sub-basement of the Academy. The Third Arm M97 swiftly draped itself over one of the tens of thousands of hooks hanging from the fifty-foot ceiling as the chair that Dr. Advent had been sitting in rose up on a half dozen spindly segmented legs and began mince-stepping its way over the neatly-stacked mountains of technomantic refuse. "Hm. Let's see, now... The respirator parts that the infirmary requested are almost done, the spun diamond layered chips that Shop IV need for that project are in the compressor, and... oh, yes. The coffee's almost done."

He pressed a button on his chair and it skittered over to the coffee machine, delicately plucking out a cup of dark brown liquid and handing it to Dr. Advent, who sipped it and spat it out into the sink. "Back to the drawing board for that one, I suppose. I just can't seem to make good coffee from artificial ingredients..."

His chair carried him across his office at an appreciable fraction of the speed of sound, though he felt no discomfort thanks to the Null Inertia Drive he'd installed a few years previously. There was just something he was forgetting, wasn't there... Oh, yes. He pressed a button on his chair and when he next spoke his voice sounded from the PA system across the Academy grounds. "Principal Mason, if you could just stop by my office when you get the chance, I'm almost done with that little favor you asked of me. I just need to get the polishing done."

He picked up the sword he'd made for the Principal, using his hands and not the artificial appendages that did most of the work for him these days. He wasn't particularly out of shape, but three decades of skipping half his meals and spending most of his time hunched over some project or another had left Dr. Khryso Advent with a decidedly wiry frame. He was, at the moment, holding a sword almost as big as he was, and polished to a mirror shine. In truth the sword was done, down to the smallest detail it was perfectly balanced and manufactured. But the bullets weren't quite finished. He was still working on how to make bullets from a handgun superaural without resorting to a larger amount of gunpowder.