Sitting in the sterile support department, devoid of all noise but a mechanical keyboard rigid clicks. U.A. most definitely had the cash to burn evident in this all-but-empty room. Sat across from me was the Support Courses first-year teacher Powerloader. Let it be known that Powerloader put on the face of a serious gruff mentor, but in reality, was a total loon. There is no way you could convince me that he designed support gear for a living, shortstack's hero costume provided no protection to anywhere below his head and looked like it was designed more to compensate for his lack of height. If you were going to build a mech suit, go all the way dammit, don't just be running around in its skeleton frame.
Beyond my little rant, Powerloader was currently helping me design my hero costume. This wasn't the first costume that I had dawned, so I knew what I wanted. First the red micro weave body suit then the titanium alloy, chest piece, bracers, crotch protection, and knee pads. Then came the hiccups in my plans. I was expressly forbidden from using my old mask design, for it was well known and screamed assassin. After much argument with Powerloader, It was decided that I would just go maskless till I had a design that was threatening.
Weaponry went hand and hand with my quirk. The guns inside my bracers were approved but the only ammo I was afforded was low-impact rubber bullets, at least 'till I was trusted', and got classes from Snipe. I was practically fuming hearing the last bit. Me? Needing classes to fire a gun? I lived and died by my skill with a gun, whoever this 'Snipe' guy is, was not going to be able to teach me shit.
The bottom of the bracer on my right hand would also have a grappling gun, not the best one I've ever seen but it would do. If only I had access to the tech that Batman uses, his grappling gun was probably leagues better than this.
Two of my fellow classmate's obvious weaknesses was fire, and I wouldn't be alive today if I didn't take advantage of people's weaknesses. For taking care of them I added a flame thrower to my left bracer, it only had 15 seconds of fuel, so I would have to make it count.
My tool belt was still feeling a little bit light so opted to add both explosive and nonexplosive shurikens. The payloads were nothing crazy, one shuriken may knock you on your ass, but 10 of them may very well make your insides, your outsides.
And to finally complete my loadout, a heavy sword, two-handed, with its sheath strapped to my back. I was explicitly told to forgo using this in school lest I de-arm a fellow student.
I did add a couple of other goodies too but with that my costume was designed and ordered, and I left the support department for my next appointment.
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I hated doctors. Was it needles, No. I'm not fully sure why my hand starts to tremor and the hair stands up on my back. It must correlate to the past. One of my earliest memories was on the operating table and it was no good memory.
The old lady isn't aware that I hate being in the room, and I want to keep it that way. Maybe that's a fucked up tick instilled into me while I was in prison. The doctors at the prison, no the researchers and mad scientist of the HPSC, I heard lots of stories told in Tartarus about them. None of them instilled confidence in the system, all of them had you puking whatever slop that was in your stomach out, and every time after hearing a new horror story you just prayed they didn't find your quirk interesting.
Now, these were just 'stories' spread by men who would never see the sunlight again but I did see firsthand how some prisoners were returned after 'examination'. First, they were moved in the middle of the night out of their cell to a holding area. Then, while they would be absent from the main prison population for up to a week. During this time rumors would spread of them being snitches or slated for death and the like. But finally, they would return, often braindead with their faces still contorted and frozen in their last moments of fear. Eventually, they would fully succumb to death, as there was no one to take care of them. The ones that died might have been lucky though. The woman who had found themselves at the end of this 'treatment' would undoubtedly be fed and taken care of by neighboring prisoners, not out of any goodness in their heart. No, they were used by other prisoners to take care of their "urges".
Even in prison I still held true to my 'heroic heart' as Nezu the used car salesman said to convince me to join this program. These unfortunate people were kept alive to be nothing more than cattle, I would go and end their suffering myself. These people were usually kept under watch by other prisoners because they were a resource with value. So I would either wait for or create a distraction myself. Whether that involved inciting two rabid gangs to get into a shank-off or starting a riot. Either way, I would always sneak into their cells, and send their ar souls away from that horrid place.
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With those two appointments done, I returned back to the dorms. The first room I went to was the gym. In prison, there are no weight rooms, at least in Tartarus there was also no place to run unless you like to get stabbed. The only sort of exercise possible was calisthenics. Some inmates took it to their extreme and probably became bigger than they were on the outside. Of course, the only way this was possible was by stealing other prisoners' food, there just was no other way to get the calories and protein needed to get and stay swole. Especially considering Tarturus had no requisition store, unlike the common prison.
I never got bigger and merely kept my exercise to the minimum needed to maintain what I already had.
With that said, entering the gym I was greeted by a hulking green mass pumping a comically massive dumbbell that must of been over a ton. I avoided direct contact with the practical dinosaur and instead went to work on of the machines in the other corner. The dopamine hit was strong enough that I was there till it was dark, undoubtedly tomorrow my whole body would feel jelly. By the end of the session, the distance between me and the big green decreased. I really wanted to know what got him in this program, I already had some guesses.
Before I made my way to the showers I took a chance.
"Hey, Green man I haven't got the chance to ask, but what's your deal? I'm sure your well aware but anyone who landed themselves in this program must have a good story to tell." I asked the big man with a mixture of enthusiasm and cautiously.
In a gruff and deep voice, he replied "I ain't got no story to tell, especially the kind you're looking for."
"Isn't that great, your not a competent liar I see. If you are not going to spill your secrets then I guess I will have to beat it out of you!" I said with a toothy grin.
He seemed a little taken aback by my words and instantly tensed his shoulders and flexed his claws.
Before he got the wrong idea I interrupted his troubled thoughts "Not so fast, I'm not talking about right now, I will beat you into to talking during heroics training." He was clearly surprised by my words and the whole concept of waiting to fight seemed quite foreign to the green teen.
Before he could respond to that I was already out the door and halfway to the showers.
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The next day I was free of any responsibilities or tasks, and my body still felt like jello, so I decided to head over to the media room and check it out.
I arrived to find my very tired-looking friend playing some a downright ancient pre-quirk videogame, Capcom Vs. Marvel 7 Remake Hd. When I entered the purple boy was quick to notice my entrance and paused the game.
"Mind if I join you for a game?" I asked him.
He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, handed me a controller, and quietly croaked out a sure.
Grabbing the controller I took a seat on a beanbag across from him. He quickly booted up a new Vs. match.
"So, uhmm… what is your name?" I flat out asked the purple teen.
"Shinso Hitoshi. Yours?" he emotionlessly replied back.
"Lawton Floyd." I told him.
When we got to the character selector, both of us wanted to play as wolverine, but for some reason when they released the HD version of the remake they removed the ability for two players to choose the same character. Both of us eyed each other in a stare-down to see who would relent first. Neither of us did.
Shinso proceed to pull out a polished cared-for American silver dollar right from his pocket. He carefully placed the coin onto the top of his thumb.
"Heads or tails?" He asked with the most emotion I have seen from him today.
"Tails" I dramatically responded.
With a precise flick of the thumb, the silver coin was launched into the air. It returned perfectly into his right palm and he flipped onto the top of his left hand in a practiced motion.
"Heads" He sternly said.
"Damn, well then I guess I will choose Dante"
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Playing video games with Shinso was fun and a great reminder of the childhood I never had. I can confidently say a new mission of mine is to make up for all that I missed.
The next day came and I was currently sitting in Mr. Hounddog's office receiving a mental evaluation, but it mostly sounded like barks to me.
The evaluation was pretty simple and mostly involved Mr. Hound playing a hundred questions with me on topics ranging from my crimes, imprisonment, heroes, villains, my will to live, and just life in general.
I know the man went well but I wasn't going to spill my guts to him. Everything was just the past, and I was ready to move forward, wallowing in depression would do me no good, I already had enough of that in the hole. My path forward was clearer than it has ever been. I was going to be a hero, and my past was just that the past!
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Getting back to the dorms and after all that serious talk I needed to clear my head, I decided the greenhouse would be the best place. Clear my head of all negative thoughts it did, almost immediately after entering and sitting down, I was approached by the plant girl in some of the most scantily clad 'clothes' I have ever seen.
And no these 'clothes' were not made of any fabric or textile but plant matter. A direct result and function of her quirk it seemed.
Her almost ethereal form sat next to me on the cast iron bench. Looking over at her bright red hair draped over her sculpted face and shoulders, I found I couldn't take a single breath let alone speak to her.
"This was wrong", pierced my clouded thoughts. I had a huge mouth and a penchant for saying shit at the wrong time and no corporeal beauty would change that. This must also be an effect of her quirk. Slowly but surely jostling my hand till I was able to get the slightest control, I moved my hand towards my mouth, and in an act of defiance to this 'spell' chomped down onto my hand.
Suddenly, blood splattered across my face and the world around me 'popped' into view. The bitch no longer had a pleasant smile plastered on her face, but now an open mouth with her eyes noticeably twitching in anger.
My fight-or-flight response instantly kicked in. Flight, there were too many variables, this bitch's quirk was still unknown and with my limited tools, this fight would be almost impossible.
Jumping forward instantly out of my sitting position into a deadbolt, I reached almost 40 feet away from the bench before all of my momentum was instantly halted and I found myself falling forward.
Before my precious face could slam into the concrete though I found myself being dragged back towards the mean green.
Pulling a shiv from my pocket that was fancied from some razor blades and whatever was in my room I quickly twisted my body and started violently and indiscriminately slashing at the plant 'arm' attached to my shoe.
It was no good, the plant stem was simply too thick to cut. Time for plan B.
Redirecting my blade towards my shoes, the blade went straight down through my lace cutting it into multiple pieces. Now with my footloose, I pulled the sucker fulling out bringing me to a stop, with only about 15 feet between me and the green. The bitch looked surprised I broke free, and when we locked eyes It didn't look like she was hankering for a fight either. Weird? Now that she wasn't actively attacking me and didn't seem intent to throw out another plant arm, I took my opportunity and booked it this time, dodging and weaving just in case. There was no tendril this time though. I was able to reach the greenhouse door and shakily close it behind me.
I didn't want to have to lose the shoe because it would be hard to explain without mentioning the incident but leaving the girl's clutches felt paramount to my survival. I should just take one day at I time I suppose.
On my way back to my room I saw Shinso I warned him to stay away from the green bitch and her greenhouse and explained my encounter and specifically her quirk. When I mentioned the brain-altering function of her quirk he almost seemed to tense up. Odd, he must not be a fan of brainwashing quirks. Noted.
I was contemplating warning the crocodile about the nature of our classmate, but after seeing him deadlift weight equal to a small bus, I wasn't too worried about him anymore.
Arriving back at my room I couldn't help but ponder my strength or lack thereof. If that girl had truly wanted to kill me she could have choked me out with that tendril easily. She didn't get kicked out of the program was the best explanation that I could arrive at, but why did she attack me in the first place then? Did I offend her by breaking her brainwashing, was It because I entered her territory? So many questions, and no answers. I wasn't going to confront her about the encounter, and certainly not going to enter the greenhouse again, hopefully, this just all blows over.
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Waking up in the morning I still wasn't sure how I was going to explain the missing shoe. I had to go to the school to take some stupid test again. Maybe, I could just say I lost it and leave it at that.
Opening the door a surprise was left for me at the door. My shoe! And its cut lace was replaced. No note was left with it, but I'm sure it was the work of plant girl, there was even a stray leaf on the carpet. With my shoe back, I felt complete.
Today was a very long day. The test I just took was strange and almost gut-wrenchingly long. It covered subjects from kindergarten to college. I am not kidding when I say the first couple of pages just have simple 2+2 math problems. Eventually, the test did start getting to higher level collegiate material. My education may have been halted early because of my chosen profession, but well before then, I was already learning at a higher level. In prison, I also had all of the free time ever needed and there was a small and very unused library hidden within the labyrinth of steel.
By the time I hit college-level stuff, I was way out of my territory. Not too shabby of a performance if I say myself.
With my test finished, I returned to the dorm specifically the kitchen to whip up a meal before playing some video games with Shinso. Upon arriving to the kitchen, a most gruesome sight made itself known. The blonde girl with predator-like eyes was what looked like eating face with the blonde boy who looked like he was about to piss himself on the bus here, their make-out session looked like it was getting pretty rough too.
In equal parts surprise and disdain, I yelped and started to rush to make my food. On my way out of the kitchen, I had to pass them again as they had moved into the doorway in their wild-facing hugging session that had them practically bouncing off the walls.
As I walked past them I heard a shrill scream and looked over to see a splatter of blood cast upon the floor. Before I could get a grip on the situation a bang echoed throughout the kitchen as the boy was slammed onto the floor by the girl. He was clearly trying to break free from her iron grasp. She had one hand over his mouth limiting his noise while taking wild bites from his neck.
I was like a deer caught in headlights. I didn't want to get involved in whatever lover quarrel turned actually fucking murder that was taking place in front of me, but how could I be a hero if I didn't save this dude. Approaching the new "Craziest Bitch™" in the class I grabbed her by both of her shoulders and pulled, and I will be damned she was stuck to the poor boy like a leech. With another good pull this time with my back into it she finally came free of the scared little shit who was practically foaming at the mouth. I didn't have any way to properly restrain her, and knocking her out was probably not the best introduction between classmates.
Instead decided to drag her to Miss Midnight's room in hope of passing along whatever mess that I stumbled on. Actually moving the girl was easier said than done, it was like picking up an angry cat. She struggled, scratched, and bit me all over, I hope this fucker doesn't have rabies or I am pounding her head into a thick paste.
Arriving at Midnight's door instead of a gentle courtesy knock, I opted to loudly bang at the door.
Within a few exasperated moments, the door flew open to reveal Midnight not in her hero costume but in street clothes. I am too busy trying not to get my face ripped off to get a good look at her but just trust me when I say she is still sexy outside of her costume. Anyways without any grandstanding or the like, I threw her full force into Midnight's grasp and slammed the door close. I could have done more like actually explaining the situation to my teacher or even just a simple warning, but I was already missing out on valuable time that could be spent playing video games with Shinso. Hell, my dinner was still waiting for me.
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Nezdu looked over the many reports that were strewn across his desk, all of them pertaining to Class S and what a headache they were already turning into. Just today Midnight had to retain Miss Toga for assaulting two other students, leaving one needing attention from Recovery Girl.
No 'punishment' would be dulled out for her though, that simply would not work with this young lady. Looking over her record it was clear that she had always received her fair share of punishments for her actions but she never seemed to change for the better, always falling further to new depths, never learning from her mistakes. No, this time was going to be different, she was going to be receiving therapy sessions directly from himself, he was licensed after all and it's been all too long since he's officially used it.
Beyond today's 'incident', I have been carefully reviewing my new student's data and have hit quite the conundrum. Every single one of the students is at a different education level. Mr. Jones is having trouble with basic reading proficiency while Ms. Isley is at a college level and Mr. Friese is a genius that could easily be eligible for a master's in almost any engineering degree.
The students that are behind will be pulled out of the general class with subjects they struggle with and be tutored by the best U.A. could afford. Again, Mr. Jones will require to be out of the class for all but art class and heroics, he will even be getting another 2 plus hours after school in tutoring. It was a tough call to make and I'm sure Mr. Jones will not like the arrangement one bit but he must make up for all the lost time or face not legally being able to graduate.
Another "problem child" as Aizawa would put it was undoubtedly Mr. Floyd. Through the tests, we did learn that he was in good health, and even with his incarceration he still managed to stand above others in the class academically. The problems became more evident during his psychiatric examination. Mr. Houndog reported that he refused to answer any of the questions with anything more than a surface-level thought on a topic. He seemed very reserved compared to what I saw on the cameras in the dorms. His past was what I was most worried about, comparing him to his classmates you wouldn't have guessed that he had the highest kill count even outclassing one of his fellow classmates nicknamed the "Nuclear Typhoon". He was sort of an enigma in that sense, going along with a carefree attitude, making friends, playing video games, and exercising at the gym. All just like any other 15-year-old boy. Luckily he didn't seem to be bound by his past like others in the class, even going as far as to help a classmate that was getting assaulted. He is most definitely hero material, Let's hope for the best, for it is all that can be done for now.
All of these issues with Mr. Floyd may be the least of my problems if Mr. Zeppu doesn't properly restrain his quirk and accidentally starts a nuclear meltdown within his own body. "God, these children may be the end of me!" Nezu thought to himself with a shaky hand upon his teacup.
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It was Saturday and we would finally be starting school tomorrow, although it was only to be a short day spent doing introductions and the like. Today was an intentionally lazy day for me, I didn't spend too long in the gym or playing video games. Instead, I found myself holed up in my room designing a new mask. No matter how many times my pencil hit the paper could I draw something that was both different from the previous mask and met all the capabilities that I needed. I spent literal hours hunched over my desk all for naught, well I shouldn't say that because now I've decided to forgo designing a mask entirely, not like I need to hide my identity anymore.
By the time I had come to this revelation, it was already very late. Proper sleep was vital for success, and with that last thought, I drifted off to sleep awkwardly in my chair, as I could not even make it to my bed before falling unconscious.
AN: I will strive my hardest to flesh out the other Class S Students the best I can, for now, it's been very limited because Floyd has yet to really interact with most of them and really only knows Shinso's name. Beyond that, you can probably tell that Floyd will be abandoning the DeadShot persona, it just doesn't fit having him keep the name of a notorious villain/assassin. New chapters will keep coming, I like this concept a lot and the ideas keep flowing so the chapters will keep coming.