-
This section is for roleplays only.
ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.
Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.
We're Getting 20 Percent Cooler
- Thread starter Michi
- Start date
DanDanDan
Wanna-be DPS insta-locker
Perfect. [emoji106]
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
DanDanDan
Wanna-be DPS insta-locker
Marcel rarely had any free time as his graduation neared, finalizing all the paperwork and making sure all his grades stayed perfect, wanting to finish on a high note. He worked to keep himself perfect, not wanting to make himself suspicious or separate from the crowd. He normally busied himself with chatter with the other matchless men and women with whom he'd be graduating with, making connections already- as everyone else was too. When he wasn't studying or making connections or signing paper work, he was cleaning his room to keep it free from any suspicious dust. And when he wasn't doing that, he was practicing his coding work, his favorite pass time. Being busy was doing anything for him, so he rarely had time when he was not busy. On this one fine spring morning, however, he was free.
It was too early for most to be up, the sun still not in the sky. It was about three in the morning, the night chill still hanging in the air trying to vie for control of the weather while the sun was already confidently stretching its fingers out to easily take control away from it. Having cleaned and studied and coded and connected, Marcel put on his drab gray uniform and customary scarf for the winter and set out to enjoy the cool.
The Academy was located in the middle of a forest, but no one ever left the Academy before graduation. No one actually knew it was surrounded by lush flora and diverse fauna; they only knew the plain fields that the Academy had allotted for training. The field was normally busy and noisy, everyone loving the fresh air that may or may not have reminded them of a life long gone with society connoted with freedom. But now, at three in the morning, Marcel had it all to himself.
Marcel walked silently, solemnly. It was almost a ritualistic religious experience, walking along the corners of the once-colorful field and having nothing to worry or think about except if walking here was against the strict rules.
With his hands in his pockets, Marcel closed his eyes and he allowed his feet to lead him forward. It was his first time being alone to his thoughts since he was a new recruit, freshly without memories; he did not know what to contemplate. Based on the books he read, he knew he was supposed to say or think something profound about the meaning of life, or something silly like that. With a tiresome breath, he looked up at the starless, cloudless sky, wanting it to open up and reveal all its secrets to him at once so that he would explode with knowledge, his innards decorating the field so at least something interesting and out of the ordinary would be the subject of tomorrow's chatter. But he knew that wouldn't happen- nothing ever happened here.
When Marcel got to the end of the field, he looked straight up the metallic wall, which he knew served more to protect the outsiders rather than those inside. With nothing to think about, he sat cross-legged on the grass and waited. He read about how Buddhists would sit and contemplate for hours. He didn't want to seem odd and out of place for trying to mutter the mantras of the Buddhists and draw attention to himself, so he merely watched as the sun finally exiled the cold wind of the night and people finally began to rise out of their coffin beds.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
It was too early for most to be up, the sun still not in the sky. It was about three in the morning, the night chill still hanging in the air trying to vie for control of the weather while the sun was already confidently stretching its fingers out to easily take control away from it. Having cleaned and studied and coded and connected, Marcel put on his drab gray uniform and customary scarf for the winter and set out to enjoy the cool.
The Academy was located in the middle of a forest, but no one ever left the Academy before graduation. No one actually knew it was surrounded by lush flora and diverse fauna; they only knew the plain fields that the Academy had allotted for training. The field was normally busy and noisy, everyone loving the fresh air that may or may not have reminded them of a life long gone with society connoted with freedom. But now, at three in the morning, Marcel had it all to himself.
Marcel walked silently, solemnly. It was almost a ritualistic religious experience, walking along the corners of the once-colorful field and having nothing to worry or think about except if walking here was against the strict rules.
With his hands in his pockets, Marcel closed his eyes and he allowed his feet to lead him forward. It was his first time being alone to his thoughts since he was a new recruit, freshly without memories; he did not know what to contemplate. Based on the books he read, he knew he was supposed to say or think something profound about the meaning of life, or something silly like that. With a tiresome breath, he looked up at the starless, cloudless sky, wanting it to open up and reveal all its secrets to him at once so that he would explode with knowledge, his innards decorating the field so at least something interesting and out of the ordinary would be the subject of tomorrow's chatter. But he knew that wouldn't happen- nothing ever happened here.
When Marcel got to the end of the field, he looked straight up the metallic wall, which he knew served more to protect the outsiders rather than those inside. With nothing to think about, he sat cross-legged on the grass and waited. He read about how Buddhists would sit and contemplate for hours. He didn't want to seem odd and out of place for trying to mutter the mantras of the Buddhists and draw attention to himself, so he merely watched as the sun finally exiled the cold wind of the night and people finally began to rise out of their coffin beds.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Michi
Keep your enemies close, and your friends DEAD!
There were three types of people when it came to the Academy. The Combat Adept, the Leaders, and then everyone else. If you were the best fighter in your class, or the smartest leader in your class then you were just average. The Leaders had pretty good lives, as long as they kept up the high testing. They would be given the better jobs, and make their way through the ranks quickly. Those who were combat adept, would be good for war, and training their juniors. Great examples for what those who were labeled as average should strive to achieve.
If it weren't for Brede's aptitude for all things violent, he would have surely been placed firmly in with the bottom of those who were average at everything. It wasn't that he couldn't do the work. They could all d the work, he just forgot most of it so easily. It got all jumbled up in his head, after the lessons, and he wouldn't be able to remember which information went with what lessons. And his handwriting was horrid compared to that of his comrades. It was legible, but sloppy, probably because he wrote with the wrong hand.
First thing in the morning, he always did the same thing. He awoke at the sound of the three steady beeps that rang through each room in the building. Emotionless dark gray eyes stared at the ceiling, before Brede sat up, and dragged his feet over the side of his cot. His roommate in the cot across from his was doing the same. They locked eyes for only the briefest moment, before they were both up, and changing into their uniforms. They left the room together, after making their beds, and putting their dirty sleepwear in the baskets at the foot of their cots.
Making his way down the hall silently, Brede headed to the mess hall, where students were already begging to gather and line up. Collecting his nutritional breakfast, he sat down and ate. He wanted to get some practice in this morning before classes started back up. Final testing would be starting within a few weeks, and if he didn't test as as exceptional in combat he wouldn't rank well at all for when they moved into the real military. It would be nice to test higher in the cognitive skills as well, but the ten years in the Academy so far proved that he wasn't going to achieve that without a miracle, a cheat sheet and a hell of a lot of luck.
If it weren't for Brede's aptitude for all things violent, he would have surely been placed firmly in with the bottom of those who were average at everything. It wasn't that he couldn't do the work. They could all d the work, he just forgot most of it so easily. It got all jumbled up in his head, after the lessons, and he wouldn't be able to remember which information went with what lessons. And his handwriting was horrid compared to that of his comrades. It was legible, but sloppy, probably because he wrote with the wrong hand.
First thing in the morning, he always did the same thing. He awoke at the sound of the three steady beeps that rang through each room in the building. Emotionless dark gray eyes stared at the ceiling, before Brede sat up, and dragged his feet over the side of his cot. His roommate in the cot across from his was doing the same. They locked eyes for only the briefest moment, before they were both up, and changing into their uniforms. They left the room together, after making their beds, and putting their dirty sleepwear in the baskets at the foot of their cots.
Making his way down the hall silently, Brede headed to the mess hall, where students were already begging to gather and line up. Collecting his nutritional breakfast, he sat down and ate. He wanted to get some practice in this morning before classes started back up. Final testing would be starting within a few weeks, and if he didn't test as as exceptional in combat he wouldn't rank well at all for when they moved into the real military. It would be nice to test higher in the cognitive skills as well, but the ten years in the Academy so far proved that he wasn't going to achieve that without a miracle, a cheat sheet and a hell of a lot of luck.
DanDanDan
Wanna-be DPS insta-locker
Marcel saw many of the more active people taking the field, already practicing and reviewing what they learned the day before. He hid in the shade offered by the wall, hoping no one wanted to talk to him. Even though he normally liked connecting with other people, he still wasn't mentally prepared for conversation after such a long time being in utter silence. His silence ended with an almost robotic urge to get up and go to his breakfast. He had followed the same schedule since he was first brought here, so it was hard for him to do anything else. Almost like a robot, Marcel got up from the corner near the wall and went back inside, going straight for Cafeteria A, where he knew another generic breakfast awaited him.
He got in line with all the other student programmed for Breakfast at this hour, and grabbed the same as everyone else: the nutritious lump of gray something, the clear-looking juice box with some sort of clear drink in it that almost tasted like milk, and the colorless yogurt. The food wasn't necessarily good, but it wasn't bad either. And for people inside the Academy, it was all they knew, so to them it was the best food in the world. After stuffing his tray with the customary breakfast, he went to go sit at one of his assigned tables.
Each table had a sort of barrier blocking the seats of the table, making sure that only the assigned to that specific table would sit there. It was more to keep the seven-year-olds in line, since they were still young and unruly. For the older students, it was just redundant. Marcel went right to his normal table, where his usual breakfast friends were already chatting and swapping notes for the upcoming tests. He was about to slide into the bench-like chair left for him when the electronic barrier sent a shock right up his body. Nothing lethal of course, but uncomfortable nonetheless. Since the shock was delivered rarely, his friends at the table looked at him awkwardly. Marcel looked down at the chair, confused as everyone else at the table. He always sat there; why would today be any different?
A little screen popped up from the chair showing a diagram of the room, a face in every seat where people belongs. With a clear red line, it showed that Marcel's seat has changed to sit somewhere else, and that he had to move. Marcel shrugged to his friends and went to follow orders, knowing he must obey no matter what the reason was. However, the seed of confusion was still there, feeding off his curiosity and growing. Why did they change my seat? he wondered, as it never happened to anyone before, at least that he knew of.
Marcel went to sit at his new table, which wasn't completely full like all the others. He didn't know anyone at this table, which honestly surprised him; he knew many of the students he was graduating with. He slid into hi seat and looked at all the others. "Hi," he said, putting on a artificial smile he always did - like he was taught. "My seat was changed to here," he said to the small group.
He got in line with all the other student programmed for Breakfast at this hour, and grabbed the same as everyone else: the nutritious lump of gray something, the clear-looking juice box with some sort of clear drink in it that almost tasted like milk, and the colorless yogurt. The food wasn't necessarily good, but it wasn't bad either. And for people inside the Academy, it was all they knew, so to them it was the best food in the world. After stuffing his tray with the customary breakfast, he went to go sit at one of his assigned tables.
Each table had a sort of barrier blocking the seats of the table, making sure that only the assigned to that specific table would sit there. It was more to keep the seven-year-olds in line, since they were still young and unruly. For the older students, it was just redundant. Marcel went right to his normal table, where his usual breakfast friends were already chatting and swapping notes for the upcoming tests. He was about to slide into the bench-like chair left for him when the electronic barrier sent a shock right up his body. Nothing lethal of course, but uncomfortable nonetheless. Since the shock was delivered rarely, his friends at the table looked at him awkwardly. Marcel looked down at the chair, confused as everyone else at the table. He always sat there; why would today be any different?
A little screen popped up from the chair showing a diagram of the room, a face in every seat where people belongs. With a clear red line, it showed that Marcel's seat has changed to sit somewhere else, and that he had to move. Marcel shrugged to his friends and went to follow orders, knowing he must obey no matter what the reason was. However, the seed of confusion was still there, feeding off his curiosity and growing. Why did they change my seat? he wondered, as it never happened to anyone before, at least that he knew of.
Marcel went to sit at his new table, which wasn't completely full like all the others. He didn't know anyone at this table, which honestly surprised him; he knew many of the students he was graduating with. He slid into hi seat and looked at all the others. "Hi," he said, putting on a artificial smile he always did - like he was taught. "My seat was changed to here," he said to the small group.
Michi
Keep your enemies close, and your friends DEAD!
They weren't much for talking. Especially not first thing in the morning. And there were more than just a few open seats at the table. Even his roommate wasn't assigned to their table, probably because he wasn't on their level. The five of them were spaced out, a seat between each of them. Which was fine with him. Occasionally someone would join them, when they showed promise in combat, but very rarely did they stay. The only constants were three brunet males, two with identical crew cuts and Brede with wavy hair almost long enough to reach his shoulders but often tied up and out of the way, a red-head with empty blue eyes, a blonde female with a pixie cut, and her twin brother; P. Keeler, J. Howard, B. Dillion, J. Riib A. Myaka and A. Myaka.
Each of their name badges had a specific hue to it. Brede and Jeremy, the red head, both had red name badges, at level 10 when it came to combat. Jeremy also had the small decal on his that indicated he was not only level ten, which was hard enough to achieve, but he was also a mid-level Leader. If the kid was more personable, Brede had no doubts that Jeremy would easily ascend through the ranks when he graduated the following year. Taking whichever career he wanted more. The female blonde, Amy, and both the brunets, James and Paul, both had deep blue name badges, level eight. The blond guy, Andrew, had a violet name badge, level nine.
As his hand went up to scratch his scalp, in a way that wouldn't mess up the bun that held his hair he hadn't felt like brushing today, he noted the newcomer taking the seat between him and the female blonde. Though the girl instantly perked up, Brede merely looked at the male out of the corner of his eye before going back to his own food. Normally the newcomer would have been given the remaining corner seat before any of the other seats started filling in. But he didn't really care, his food was almost gone, and he would leave to go to the training grounds soon.
Amy smiled at the guy, "Welcome." She offered her hand to him for a firm handshake. She loved when new people showed up even if it was only for a day or two, mostly because the guys at the table hardly spoke. "Myaka, Amy. Level Eight Combat Adept, Sniper." The standard greeting. Name, level, and speciality.
Each of their name badges had a specific hue to it. Brede and Jeremy, the red head, both had red name badges, at level 10 when it came to combat. Jeremy also had the small decal on his that indicated he was not only level ten, which was hard enough to achieve, but he was also a mid-level Leader. If the kid was more personable, Brede had no doubts that Jeremy would easily ascend through the ranks when he graduated the following year. Taking whichever career he wanted more. The female blonde, Amy, and both the brunets, James and Paul, both had deep blue name badges, level eight. The blond guy, Andrew, had a violet name badge, level nine.
As his hand went up to scratch his scalp, in a way that wouldn't mess up the bun that held his hair he hadn't felt like brushing today, he noted the newcomer taking the seat between him and the female blonde. Though the girl instantly perked up, Brede merely looked at the male out of the corner of his eye before going back to his own food. Normally the newcomer would have been given the remaining corner seat before any of the other seats started filling in. But he didn't really care, his food was almost gone, and he would leave to go to the training grounds soon.
Amy smiled at the guy, "Welcome." She offered her hand to him for a firm handshake. She loved when new people showed up even if it was only for a day or two, mostly because the guys at the table hardly spoke. "Myaka, Amy. Level Eight Combat Adept, Sniper." The standard greeting. Name, level, and speciality.
DanDanDan
Wanna-be DPS insta-locker
"Yossarian, Marcel. Level Nine Intelligence Adept, Analyst." Marcel replied, shaking Amy's hand firmly. "It's nice to meet you," he said, once again artificially. A sweeping glance around the table made his facade falter, realizing that the reason he didn't know these people was because they weren't the talkative types. Being one to always able to make a connection, he was determined to make one under these circumstances. "I got moved here just today, and judging from all your colors, I can see we're all of the same status group." He said, talking to everyone at the table in hopes to drag their attention in.
He thought that his placement here was some sort of test from the Computer, seeing if he can still work his guile and charm in his favor even under these circumstances. Determined not to fail, he turned back to Amy, who seemed to be the only one who has shown him interest so far. "Combat, hmm," he said, trying to make conversation. "I'm not the best handling weapons, but I can definitely hold my own in a fight. Though, hopefully it would never come to me fighting, since I'm supposed to be the guy behind the computers and not on the front lines."
He thought that his placement here was some sort of test from the Computer, seeing if he can still work his guile and charm in his favor even under these circumstances. Determined not to fail, he turned back to Amy, who seemed to be the only one who has shown him interest so far. "Combat, hmm," he said, trying to make conversation. "I'm not the best handling weapons, but I can definitely hold my own in a fight. Though, hopefully it would never come to me fighting, since I'm supposed to be the guy behind the computers and not on the front lines."
Michi
Keep your enemies close, and your friends DEAD!
Amy smiled at Marcel, listening to his greeting, though her smile faltered momentarily when he told them he was a Leader. Why would a Leader be at their table? This was the combat adept table. Level sevens and below didn't get placed here, and Leaders didn't either. But she didn't let it show too much that it bothered her. Though it was hard to maintain that smile when Marcel unintentionally insulted them all. "Well... No one would say you're in the same status group as us. Seeing as Leaders and Fighters are different classes entirely.... 'Cause, you know, we end up on the front lines while you guys hide behind the computers."
As if everyone decided this was the best time to do their own introductions everyone around the table began speaking in turn. "Keeler, Paul. Level Eight Combat Adept, Close Quarters." One brunette with the crew cut spoke up first, offering his hand for a firm shake before returning to his food. The others all followed suit offering their hands after their own brief and emotionless introductions.
"Myaka, Andrew. Level Nine Combat Adept, Heavy Artillery."
"Dillion, Brede. Leven Ten Combat Adept, All Around."
"Riib, Jeremy. Level Ten Combat Adept, Close Quarters. Level Eight Intelligence Adept, Logistics." The red-head went last.
"That's probably all you're going to get out of them to be honest. None of them talk very much. Maybe you were moved here to lighten their moods." She laughed. Brede only looked at her with their gray dead eyes of his. If the girl had cared more about herself she probably would have been with the Intelligence Adept people. But her bond with her brother brought her over to the Combat side. As she spoke a screen popped up in front of Brede, but as he read over the notification his mood visibly darkened. It was suggesting that he work with the Leader to improve his cognitive testing results. It was a blow right in his pride. He knew his testing when it came to everything academical always came out on the lower side of the scoring system, but always passing. But he did well at everything else, if the other scores had been so important, they would have suggested it a year or two ago. There really wasn't a point to it now.
After reading over the suggestion, he politely selected decline, only to have it pop back up. He pressed decline once more, and it closed and reappeared once more. Now it was saying it strongly suggested that he accept the help. Why would it even give him a decline button if the computer was going to be that persistent. The following pop up window the decline button was grayed out.
"You gotta be f*cking kidding me." He muttered quietly under his breath. His hands banged on the table as he stared at it his fork still in his hand. Finally he grabbed his tray and stood, dismissing himself with a quiet, "I'm finished." Before he headed to the door, dropping his tray on the stand and his fork in the basket he walked out of the room, heading towards the combat arena. It wasn't until he left the room that the pop up disappeared from his seat.
As if everyone decided this was the best time to do their own introductions everyone around the table began speaking in turn. "Keeler, Paul. Level Eight Combat Adept, Close Quarters." One brunette with the crew cut spoke up first, offering his hand for a firm shake before returning to his food. The others all followed suit offering their hands after their own brief and emotionless introductions.
"Myaka, Andrew. Level Nine Combat Adept, Heavy Artillery."
"Dillion, Brede. Leven Ten Combat Adept, All Around."
"Riib, Jeremy. Level Ten Combat Adept, Close Quarters. Level Eight Intelligence Adept, Logistics." The red-head went last.
"That's probably all you're going to get out of them to be honest. None of them talk very much. Maybe you were moved here to lighten their moods." She laughed. Brede only looked at her with their gray dead eyes of his. If the girl had cared more about herself she probably would have been with the Intelligence Adept people. But her bond with her brother brought her over to the Combat side. As she spoke a screen popped up in front of Brede, but as he read over the notification his mood visibly darkened. It was suggesting that he work with the Leader to improve his cognitive testing results. It was a blow right in his pride. He knew his testing when it came to everything academical always came out on the lower side of the scoring system, but always passing. But he did well at everything else, if the other scores had been so important, they would have suggested it a year or two ago. There really wasn't a point to it now.
After reading over the suggestion, he politely selected decline, only to have it pop back up. He pressed decline once more, and it closed and reappeared once more. Now it was saying it strongly suggested that he accept the help. Why would it even give him a decline button if the computer was going to be that persistent. The following pop up window the decline button was grayed out.
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_11/Notification.png.6a421c5db806c25c5d002399a69b4416.png" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="35440" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_11/Notification.png.6a421c5db806c25c5d002399a69b4416.png" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
"You gotta be f*cking kidding me." He muttered quietly under his breath. His hands banged on the table as he stared at it his fork still in his hand. Finally he grabbed his tray and stood, dismissing himself with a quiet, "I'm finished." Before he headed to the door, dropping his tray on the stand and his fork in the basket he walked out of the room, heading towards the combat arena. It wasn't until he left the room that the pop up disappeared from his seat.
Attachments
Last edited by a moderator:
DanDanDan
Wanna-be DPS insta-locker
"Ha well," Marcel said, looked to the rest of the group. "Maybe so." He couldn't help but notice the pop up that appeared in front of the mystery table mate. Even though he knew it wasn't good to be sticking his nose where it wasn't wanted, he looked anyway since he spotted his name on the pop up. A tutor, eh? He thought, feeling himself beam with pride. He had tutored others before, but it was always from the younger groups.
Marcel didn't notice how angry the guy seemed until he randomly got up and left the cafeteria. He was somewhat amused, gauging that it was probably his pride that preventing him from accepting help.
When Brede left and the pop up finally disappeared, a similar pop up appeared before Marcel, informing him of a change in his schedule. Instead of the study hour toward dinner, he had a tutoring session with Brede in Study Hall B. "Oh great," he said, quickly accepting the change.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Marcel didn't notice how angry the guy seemed until he randomly got up and left the cafeteria. He was somewhat amused, gauging that it was probably his pride that preventing him from accepting help.
When Brede left and the pop up finally disappeared, a similar pop up appeared before Marcel, informing him of a change in his schedule. Instead of the study hour toward dinner, he had a tutoring session with Brede in Study Hall B. "Oh great," he said, quickly accepting the change.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
DanDanDan
Wanna-be DPS insta-locker
((That's a great image! Did you make that in paint or was it a generator?))
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Michi
Keep your enemies close, and your friends DEAD!
(Made it myself lol)
DanDanDan
Wanna-be DPS insta-locker
((It's so perfect for the setting! If I ever get back on the computer, I'll probably start using the same type for Computer. :3))
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Michi
Keep your enemies close, and your friends DEAD!
The Combat Arena had three floors. The first floor was the Close Quarters Combat Training, or CQT for short. The second floor was the shooting range; where all the students could practice everything from handguns to sniper rifles, depending on their combat level. And the third floor was the Simulators; where anyone level seven and higher were able to to practice heavy artillery, as well as different scenarios, depending on their specialty.
Noan walked through the hall inside the first floor of the training arena. The front of the building, had a gym on one side, the other had mats where they could practice hand to hand, as well as protective equipment for those who weren't high enough in the ranks to practice without protection, like the kids who were just begging to learn the ins and outs of combat.
He headed over to the gym, watching a few people as they lifted weights before he made his way over to the punching bags. Get in some of the punches before he had to go to his first class of the day, which was leadership training. He pulled a roll of ace bandaging from a nearby cabinet and begun wrapping it around his hands and wrists for support. Angrily punching the weighted bag, his nostrils flared and he thought about how now, all of times, when they only had months before they graduated, the stupid system had decided he needed to brush up on his math skills. Could it really think that he needed to work on math at this point in time. He wasn't going to be working on computers or anything. He was a shoe in for private when he graduated, and would easily move up the ranks after the first year... if he made it that long. Why the hell did it matter now anyways? He'd always tested low, but passing.
Noan walked through the hall inside the first floor of the training arena. The front of the building, had a gym on one side, the other had mats where they could practice hand to hand, as well as protective equipment for those who weren't high enough in the ranks to practice without protection, like the kids who were just begging to learn the ins and outs of combat.
He headed over to the gym, watching a few people as they lifted weights before he made his way over to the punching bags. Get in some of the punches before he had to go to his first class of the day, which was leadership training. He pulled a roll of ace bandaging from a nearby cabinet and begun wrapping it around his hands and wrists for support. Angrily punching the weighted bag, his nostrils flared and he thought about how now, all of times, when they only had months before they graduated, the stupid system had decided he needed to brush up on his math skills. Could it really think that he needed to work on math at this point in time. He wasn't going to be working on computers or anything. He was a shoe in for private when he graduated, and would easily move up the ranks after the first year... if he made it that long. Why the hell did it matter now anyways? He'd always tested low, but passing.
DanDanDan
Wanna-be DPS insta-locker
After breakfast, Marcel decided to simply go back to his dorm and make sure he had all his thoughts and notes ready for the test he had to take in his first class of the day: Leadership. As a high-ranking student, he didn't worry too much about the class- which was mostly made of simulations of dire situations, which could be with either other students or with holograms. But he didn't want to fall behind, and get demoted in rank. He still had to vie for level 10 ranking before graduation, after all.
He reviewed strategy and various coding networks, so he would not easily forget. He had most of the common bug codes and other lines of text memorized for his second class- Coding- already memorized, but it was nice to double check.
It was also nice to be focused for the 30 minutes he had before trotting off to the first class he had that day. He joined his classmates as they systematically walked together to the assigned room for the test, only to see that a notification has been set on the door, actually put there on an actual, physical note. It unsettled everyone, since they were all used to the pop-ups from Computer. The note changed the location of the class to a lower floor, where the lower-ranked classes would be.
Marcel walked down with the rest of his classmates in silence. They all needed to mentally prepare for whatever awaited them. Marcel, for one, wondered if this had any connection to what had happened with his tutoring.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
He reviewed strategy and various coding networks, so he would not easily forget. He had most of the common bug codes and other lines of text memorized for his second class- Coding- already memorized, but it was nice to double check.
It was also nice to be focused for the 30 minutes he had before trotting off to the first class he had that day. He joined his classmates as they systematically walked together to the assigned room for the test, only to see that a notification has been set on the door, actually put there on an actual, physical note. It unsettled everyone, since they were all used to the pop-ups from Computer. The note changed the location of the class to a lower floor, where the lower-ranked classes would be.
Marcel walked down with the rest of his classmates in silence. They all needed to mentally prepare for whatever awaited them. Marcel, for one, wondered if this had any connection to what had happened with his tutoring.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Michi
Keep your enemies close, and your friends DEAD!
(Oh good lord. I swear I'm usually never this bad at keeping track of my rps. Are you still even remotely interested in this?)
Users who are viewing this thread
Similar threads
