Roleplay

Nao had entered the interviews with a whiteboard and marker, and so was pleasantly surprised when the proctor interviewing them said that he knew sign. They answered the questions best they could, explaining that this was the best way that they could use their quirk, and that they wanted to be a role model for others with quirks that were similar.

The written examination went pretty well, though they missed a couple questions they were sure they'd gotten right, mostly about the specifics of quirk laws. They guessed being unable to turn theirs off they glossed over a few of the more important ones in quirk counseling.

In the physical examination they managed to sneak up on a few of the less aware sidekicks, knocking them out or restraining them best they could. They were quite surprised when they managed to get in, as far as they could tell their performance had been entirely mediocre.

---

On the first day they put their long hair up into a ponytail, and pulled on their uniform. Grabbing a bag already filled with schoolbooks they added notebooks, a whiteboard, and a sketchbook, as well as a large quantity of markers and pens.
They left their dorm room and nervously made their way into the main building. Stopping at the large door marked '1-A,' they pushed it open.

Minato
“Minato Toronaga.” he introduced himself quietly, fingers drumming on the desk. The seven or eight metal bands around his wrists lightly clinked together as he did so, avoiding direct eye contact with the interviewer.
“Ah. I was wondering when I’d see the youngest Toranaga here,” the interviewer said kindly to the young man.
“The weakest, too,” Minato added with a smile, “But I promise, I won’t disappoint. I might not be a 5 or 6 my first year, but I’ll put in my all.” he promised, raising his eyes finally to meet those of the interviewer.
“Well. Most aren’t 5s or 6s, really,” the man said, kindly smiling; “I’m sure you will.” Forge wasn’t exactly the strongest quirk, paling in the eyes of his sister’s Incite or his father’s Flash Fire. However, they were both Pro Heroes, and this boy, barely pushing 15, was perhaps a sad reflection of that.

However, making metals into gases, normally extremely unstable, was a good thing.
“Look. I’m not..looking to be powerful. I want to help people. Even villains. And...I know you hear that all day,” Minato mumbled, “But...I’ll do my best. I always have given my best. Even if it isn’t that great.” the young man said, a passion in his voice as he stared at the mahogany desk.
-
The practicals were not his best work. The faux school they provided allowed for a lot of space, and metal, but Minato preferred a supporting role-burning someone to avoid allowing his teammates to take a pinch, sending a sharp molten spear to finally send someone down- but otherwise he was..a nothing. Somewhat like a background character, helping out.
Being flashy was not his go-to, though. It was his objective to keep them from harm, and that’s what he did exactly.

-

It had shocked Minato that he had actually gotten in. He had thought they wouldn’t really want him (he secretly suspected that his father or sibling had put in a word with them, but he wasn’t sure), but no matter, he was very happy to get into the prestigious school.
He had woken up right on time in the morning, thought he was still tired. He was still working through Homer’s Illiad, though he had made great progress in the epic as last night. He was unhappy to have to read a translation of it, however. He preferred reading the original text.

He shoved several books in his backpack, heading downstairs to his quiet apartment. His mother and he were the only ones who were ever home nowadays, and now that he was going off to the dorm..well. Minato loves his mother. He knew how much it hurt to be alone when she deserved better. She tearfully hugged him, and he could feel his eyes water too, but he quickly brushed away the pain.
“I’ll miss you,” she mumbled, “You better visit more than anyone,” the woman said fiercely. Minato had been the only one who really took after her, and it was common knowledge that he was her favorite. He nodded, mumbling about how he would come back to visit as often as he could, before walking out the door quickly like tearing off a band-aid.

He wore the uniform, though he felt uncomfortable with it. He missed his sweatshirt. He pulled a jacket over his shoulders as consolation as he made the short walk to the academy. Joining the crowd, he slipped through the others, watching as some demonstrated their quirks and others didn’t, quietly picking up on gossip and ther such trivial knowledge.
He was too exited to care, though he stored it away. Apparently his home room teacher had even known All Might himself! Minato had an All Might keychain. He had seen some of his older tapes, too, and he had even searched up some of his other teacher’s, which hadn’t been as successful.
He slipped past an odd-looking dude before entering the building, finding his him room and quietly entering the class a bit early, choosing a seat in the back, away from the couple others in there, and proceeding to pull out Illiad and begin to read to pass the time as well as contain his excitement.

Minato had been smart to keep a small amount of gallium with him, and due to the low melting point, he could easily fidget with it in class and not burn down the school. He drew it out of his pocket and mindlessly fiddled with the liquid metal as he flipped pages.

She settled into a seat about… mid-way through the line-up of chairs. She knew full well they’d be getting shuffled around once the teacher actually got there and told them their assigned seating anyway. Such was life. She idly fiddled with her tie, fussing with the golden pin that held the knot in place. It settled in such a way as to rub uncomfortably in the hollow her collarbones made just beneath her neck and it annoyed her. Sometimes she wished, more than anything, that her quirk just nullified any sort of damage at all. She’d rather not feel anything, than feel all the annoying little stuff, and NONE of the larger things…

A hug wasn’t as nice if you couldn’t feel the pressure…

She sighed faintly and looked up as the door to the classroom slid open surprisingly gently, for the person stomping into the room.

Spiked out blond hair and fiery red eyes that glared around the room. Bakugo set his briefcase on the teacher’s desk and crossed one arm across his chest, cupping the elbow of the other as his hand came up in a resting claw… small explosions filling the palm of his hand. “ALL OF YOU BETTER BE IN YOUR SEATS!” he roared out, looking up at the clock. Exactly. 8:25. “IF YOU AREN’T IN YOUR SEAT, YOUR ARSE IS GRASS. I’LL EXPELL YOU FASTER THAN YOU CAN SAY SORRY BAKUGOU-SENSEI.”

Nuru shrank in her seat, amber eyes going wide as she stared at the fireball in front of them. Oh boy…. This year’s going to be fun…

Eliza had been standing about the classroom until she heard her teacher walk- more appropriately, stomp - towards the door and she very quickly took her seat. That man was loud, and her ears hurt a lot. She could already tell that she was going to wither hate him or have him be her favorite teacher. Most likely the former.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the minefield, huh." Her ears twitched irritably, voice hushed and very reflective of her mood. The only thing Eliza was somewhat happy about was her snarky comment being at least somewhat clever.

Kawa had been sitting in his seat for a while, the second to last row on the left side, right next a window that was perfect for staring. He watched as few other students took their seats, one of them being jumping girl; that was what he decided to call her until he knew her name. Everything seemed relatively peaceful.

Then the teacher came in. Kawa looked towards the door to see a spikey hair man who had some explosions coming out of his hand. As the man started yelling Kawa wished he could cover his ears; the only think he did was slump down in his seat trying to become invisible. Why on Earth is he yelling. Kawa wondered. I don't think anyone was talking, we should be able to hear him just fine. He slide down further and fiddled with his hands, trying to avoid the teacher's fiery eyes.

Minato

“Katsuki-Sensei, I’m quite sure that I could say that faster than you could expel me,” Minato pointed out loudly, not looking up from his book. He already knew what the man looked like-spiked hair, red eyes like a hellhound itself, and could make explosions. His face wasn’t an obscure one.

Shouting had never really scared Minato. It had never really harmed his inner calm, and allowing anything to effect your face was pretty much a death sentence. Especially with explosion-happy angry teachers. He knew his comment would rightfully **** him off. But testing the limits to which he could go was the best thing to do on the first day. What teacher wouldn’t let him read? Which ones liked him? Which ones would actually go through with their threats? These were important questions that Minato had to answer for himself. Besides, teachers and students might find these things even funny.
He lazily marked the page with the thin aluminum bookmark that his sister had made for him (with great effort, she had burned up the first two tries and this one was a dark brown color) and kept reading. Teachers loved to angrily close the books with a sort of happy smirk on their faces like they’d done something. This way he could avoid that.

Many teachers here didn’t teach much of the English’s literature, which allowed for Minato to keep himself from being bored. He had already read almost all of the common curriculum books in Japanese. He liked audiobooks best. That way he could work on something and still technically read. Many of the books he read were older manuscripts with few copies, so they were also helpful in that regard, especially the old ways of the forge, of which there often was no written records and had to be learned from a recorded master over video.

He glanced up at a pink-haired girl who seemingly wilted in her seat. He suspected that she was regretting her seat choice about now. Minato recognized her-she was the one bouncing about. He’s have to get her name, she seemed almost sad.
The others in the classroom seemed similarly upset about the yelling as well, and he picked up on one of the girls say something that absolutely sung of irritation.

[center][font=Gabriola][size=7][size=4][color=Cyan]AURE[/color][/size][/size][/font][/center] The wander into the actual School Building took a reasonable amount of time, Aure's attention drawn to the city proper, the last few days of moving from Hotel to Dorm had ended up making most of the time spent moving boxes and holding dry conversation with people he assumed He'd never really actually have to deal with again... but He made it to the Classroom in decent time for the actual class, Sliding inside, he bowed slightly, unneccessarely actually but just out of fear that his horns would scrape the entryway... And he found a seat...one..close to the window, those always made it way easier to trail off should conversation at any point become Dry..but, He hoped not...after all He had to translate everything...and well...writing in Japanese still took him longer than He'd like to admit.. The Large coat was unfurled and hung back onto the chair, revealing its purpose as sorta a backpack, the inner fabric lined with little Pencils, quills, ink vials and notebooks, One in particular said Proudly: [center]"Se faire des amis, un guide pour débutants"[/center] The Teacher then Strolled in, with a bursting display...or something that could at the very least be called that..it was almost hypnotic to watch, and Aure leant forward slightly, blinking his eyes.. Well He's Kinda Rude, but He's atleast pretty? alot of the people in the class were...this could be a fun year.. But..being expelled wont do actually..it wont do at all.. Going Home... was not an option... [right][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/720668022196535378/759808640881918032/aure_for_post.png[/img][/right]

Nao quickly moved to sit down in their seat, pulling out a sketchbook and doodling in it. When Bakugou-sensei entered the room shouting, they jumped slightly, and quickly turned their focus on said teacher. The other students comment brought a laugh out of them—not that anyone could hear it.

(Specification on Nao's quirk- their body still acts as if it makes noise. It's just that no one can hear it.)

Motowari had taken a seat near the middle of the classroom, but closer to the front. She was fidgeting with her bag when the teacher burst in. Motowari was caught off guard and nearly yelped, but composed herself. She had heard stories of Bakugo, or Katsuki-sensi as a hero. He was aggressive, but not immoral.

Motowari called down enough to focus. Wait. Did he say expel? For being late? Katsuki-sensi doesnt play games...

Motowari's gaze shifted when a student spoke up. They were... passing off to the explosive hero. Motowari wanted to put her head on the desk for the student in second hand embarrassment. That wouldn't end well.

((On mobile, but got a post out woo))

Upon arrival in the classroom, Yume would take herself to the front of the room to take a seat. It wasn’t the most ideal of places to sit but the young girl merely wanted to see or more so, hear things better than from the back of the classroom. Having grown used to her own Quirk’s company, the sound of different voices and the presence of classmates were an unusual outcome for the girl. It never crossed her mind so much until now as she’d sheepishly look to her fellow classmates momentarily before turning her attention to her bag.

Shuffling through her baggage, Yume would take out her belongings to take notes although she wasn’t the sort to write down anything. If anything, it only made her look busy. It seemed as if many students had gotten in successfully much like herself but her wonders deviated to her profound curiosity of what sort of Quirk they all had. From the very beginning, her first impression was that they had something ‘flashy’ or anything that was deemed noteworthy in a world of superpowers.

However, she’d have to hold her judgment for awhile longer as her attention shifted to the teacher. The man’s eyes were a crimson red, his blonde hair stood out in more ways than one and his fiery attitude was another detail to note but he was here within reason although his demeanour spoke otherwise. Yume perceived it as impulsive, especially as the teacher yelled at the class for little to no reason. Turning her gaze away from Bakugo-sensei to not draw attention to herself, she’d wait attentively in the meantime for further input on what they were to do. If this was how the year was to be, then she’d best keep her head down in the meantime.