♚ Gothic City Academy ♚ [CVnU: School / Location]

♜ Welcome to GCA, newcomers! ♜

The academy is a type of publicly financed but independently run certified institute that provides free quality education to the financially inept denizens of Gothic City. The school staff is composed of experienced teachers and reliabe maintenance personel for maximum efficiency, under the current leadership of headmaster Rook. Major backers of the project include(d) the Malcolm Press Fund, Knightfall Education Fund and additional resources provided by Joseph Stark's Eleanor Industries. The school makes extensive use of the ISIC card system to provide maximum security for it's inhabitants.

"The legacy of the Gothic City Academy actually dates back to the founding of Gothic City itself. The institue was founded by the freshly immigrated Press family, originally intending to raise a new generation of stone masons for the ever-expanding marvel of gothic architecture.

Thus, the Press Institute of Masonry and Miscellaneous Arts came to be and it didn't last long. In the second half of the nineteenth century the school gained the appeal of savants and naturalistic authors which inevitably led to the revolution and rebirth of the faculty, broadening the spectrum of aviable arts and gaining a reputation one of the best broading schools in the US. Prominent graduates of the GCA include Malcolm Press, the mayor of Gothic City; Alexander Rook, the GC district attorney; and many others."

As of latest statistics the student body counts over 400 members, both human and metahuman, all hailing from diverse personal and financial background. Due to this some students are afforded monthly allowance (amount differing based on several factors) or additional education and support (speech therapy, behaivour therapy, etc.). The facility also offers a full range of stipends for students and night courses for those who seek to expand their knowledge.

♜ Prominent Students ♜

1. Arthur MacGargan.
2. Devin Rodriguez (@thespyder)
3. Felix Faraday.
4. Kit Catarina. (@pyrokitten)
5. Lucas McCoy. (@therustler)
6. Mark Anthony. (@_nox_)

♜ Faculty Staff ♜

• Headmaster: Alexander Rook. (@_vex_)
• School Counselor:@_drake

♜ School Grounds ♜

The school complex is rather large, due to being located on the woodland outskirts of Upper Gothic, and consists of several large buildings intertwined through a system of decorated pathways. There is a a roughly 16ft sharp gothic fence that marks off the expanse. The grounds themselves are rigorously and tediously cared for and no loitering is allowed.

Due to the chaotic nature of Gothic City, the area has been rebuilt several times over and over again, each time improving not only visually but defensively as well. As mentioned above the school makes extensive use of the ISIC card system, each student and personel owning one with different levels of authorization. The cards allow entry into the school and it's facilities, without them none of the electronic doors open. Other prominent defensive features include an intricate camera system that picks up all wavelengths of light, heat sensors and pressure sensors. In response to the Konite incident, guards and specialized K9 units have been deployed.

The whole complex sports radio and boasts elaborate banners and numerous decorations referencing the school football team: GC Hellbats, who have a rather impressive record as of late.

• The Academy

Within here is where students come to pursue their academic ambitions. There are several classrooms each assigned to a teacher . The classrooms come equipped with black-boards with rare exceptions of smart-boards, projectors and other equipment. Gothic City Academy provides it's students with a wide range of subjects to pick from aside from the usual ones, such as Advanced Bio-chemistry for idiots, Super Villain Physics, Necromancy 101, Lasagnalogy, Stealth 101 and the like. The cafeteria is within this building.

• The Dormitory

The Dormitory is purposely secluded from the rest of the institute so that students can rest or study in silence. The building itself is a large gothic condo building, it is a highly functional structure. Pale, broad and spacious, with a yard in the middle. It is not exactly luxurious, but should provide the students with everything they need. Students are usually living in pairs, but fours are also common.

• The Library

Arguably the most important part of the whole complex, the library contains the historical text regarding the school and the city, additional research material, computers and all manner of literary genres for the youth. The GCA library is actually the only library in eastcoast that has the full collection of Honoré de Balzac's works.

• The Gym

The gym is located behind the school and is connected to it with an open corridor. It is very spacious and contains modern sports, gamnastics and weight-lifting equipment. Additionally, there is a track and several sports (tennis, basketball, baseball, etc.) fields built right next to it.

• The Gardens

The term "Gardens" actually refers to multiple recreational areas within the complex. This includes the multiple english-style parks that are seeded all around the institute, the gardens by the entrance, decorated school grounds and the famous hedgemaze. Most of these areas are decorated with statues, benches and also food and drink machines.

♜ OOC Information ♜

1. Standard CVnU rules apply.
2. Major destruction is not tolerated unless allowed by the creator.
3. Anybody is free to enroll into GCA without asking, but please be of reasonable age.
4. Consider the school a blend of Gotham Academy and Avengers Academy. Meaning that it doesn't matter if you have powers, but please use them within the parametres.
5. There is a strict rule system, purposely breaking it means punishment.
6. It is advised that you keep the OOC in spoiler blocks for better post flow.
7. HAVE. FUN.

Alright! The thread has been reposted to free up some space. I hereby declare IC RPing started! Also it is advised that you keep the OOC in spoiler threads like this:

Earlier that Week

"Lucas...McCay?"

"McCoy."

How do you screw that up, he wondered, tapping his foot underneath the guidance counselor's desk. That's, like, a textbook American name. Up there with Smith, and Jones. He was wearing a buttoned down blue shirt and khakis, twiddling his fingers as he stared over the large mahogany desk at the guidance counselor of Gothic Academy. He chewed his lip for a second, glancing around the room. Even the guidance office was huge, decorated with traditional Gothic flair. A large portrait of one of the school's founders sat upon the wall. He assumed the gruff-looking aristocrat glaring down at him was the patriarch of the Press family, who'd originally founded the institute when they'd immigrated to Gothic over a century ago.

"And what attracted your family to Gothic Academy, mister McCoy?" inquired the guidance counselor. Her hawkish eyes peered at him from behind thick glasses, long nails shuffling a packet of admissions papers supposedly signed by Lucas' parents.

"Well, you're, uh, very prestigious," he said, sitting up a little straighter. "Everyone knows that Gothic Academy is...um...the best," he said, with a sheepish smile. His palms were a little sweaty. Nervously, he ran them through his short-cropped hair, feeling the slight sting of static electricity that was constantly building up in his skull. He hoped that they took his being nervous as a character trait, not as an indication of his rampant lying. First of all, of course, his parents had signed no papers; he'd forged all of the signatures. Second, he had not been living in Gothic all of his life, and third, he was not a citizen who had never committed a felony.

He had committed many, many felonies.

"And, well, I wanted to further my education in the best environment possible," he finished, gesturing around. "I mean, Gothic is supposed to be the top-notch school around, and, well, here I am, to, uh, learn. Also, there's all the new studies on..."Me. "...supervillains. How they work, their motivations, how we stop them...it's all pretty interesting."

A long pause fills the room, a grandfather clock ticking away in the back. Her bird-like eyes surveyed his information for what felt like an hour, before clicking her tongue and putting them down.

"All of your papers seem to be in order, Mister McCoy. We'll have you off to a dorm in no time," she affirmed with a smile, filing away the forged information in the massive desk. Lucas breathed a massive sigh of relief, standing up from the chair. One of the reasons he'd been distracted the whole time was that he was reading through the counselor's search history. Lucas McCoy was at the top of the list. Luckily, there seemed to be no information left that linked him to the name Rustler.

"Sorry you didn't get to meet my parents," he said, twisting his new dorm key in and out of his fingers as he left the room. "They're, er, real busy people."

"Enjoy your time with us, Lucas," she said, giving a slight wave as he walked off into the halls, making his way to his room.

I think I just might, he replied silently, grinning for the first time in a while.

Lucas McCoy, upstanding future citizen of Gothic City and the United States of America. Sounds good to me.

The boy who had once called himself the Rustler, and paid the price for it, sauntered off into the halls, ready to begin a new life for himself at Gothic City Academy.

The Present: Extranormal Crime Studies

Lucas sat back in his chair, comfortably nestled near the back row of the class. He was doing his best to be a good student, but he'd found his attention span had remained quite short. It took all his willpower to avoid looking through the texts of other students with his mind, rather than focusing on the teacher. They were lucky enough to have a functioning smartboard in the class; while many parts of the school adhered to the traditional erasable chalkboard, Extranormal Crime Studies' subject matter was so ingrained in the modern day that it practically made the smartboard a necessity. Most would think that it would be redundant of Lucas to study metahuman criminals, having once been one himself, but he really wanted to see what the general public actually thought of them. He was surprised to see it offered as a class, but this was Gothic City, after all.

He'd started to lean backwards as the professor lectured on about the types of superhuman criminals. Some, he said, were just maniacs, ordinary people with mental disabilities as a side effect of gaining extranormal ones. Others were sadists, psychopaths, and conquerors, bent on taking over as many lives as they could. And finally, there were the ones who were just regular people, but with fantastic gadgets or alien artifacts that enabled them to do whatever they pleased. Lucas was actually quite bored; most of this information could be gleaned from watching the news every day. His eyes began to shut...

"And then, we have this masked miscreant," he said, as a picture of The Rustler flashed up on the screen. Lucas nearly fell out of his chair, eyes wide open as he flailed for a second to avoid falling. Sitting straight up, he looked quickly around the room, putting one hand over the side of his face and trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible.

"His motivation appeared to be neither power nor money, but attention. Class, what do you think this tells us about the Extranormal Criminal's train of thought? Why do you think they wear those costumes?" inquired the teacher, eyebrow raised at the multitude of students. A video had begun playing on the board, depicting The Rustler robbing a bank. He was laughing like a maniac, floating above the ground with dual shoes that were spitting sparks like a firestick on the Fourth of July.

"Probably for attention," answered one of the classmates. Satisfied, the teacher resumed the paused video, highlighting the moment when Solar Hawk, a legendary vigilante, bashed him in the stomach with her mace. Lucas winced, remembering that moment quite clearly. He was looking around the room, checking to see if anyone had spotted the similarities between himself and the crazy teenager on the screen. His hair had been buzzed short, so that it wouldn't stick up, and his posture was obviously different, but he was beginning to have concerns that he might be found out in the very first week of classes...

"Now, note the part where he throws up. The more squeamish of you should look away," he warned, before the video showed The Rustler puking onto the sidewalk. "I'll remind you that this class, like Forensics-1, is only for the strong of stomach," said the teacher offhandedly. Lucas had started smiling, not just as an attempt to fit in, but out of genuine mirth. He was remembering exactly why he left that life behind.

"Now, he still gets away with the money, but then, next week, he's at it again. We've concluded that this is because the super-criminal has a pathological need to commit crimes. They see themselves as the antithesis of the modern Hercules, demons for society to hate. They take it upon themselves to do evil, to satisfy their own sick desires," announced the professor, pointing to the screen.

Lucas guffawed loudly into his sleeve, now actually finding the class to be quite funny.

Advanced Arcane Self-Defense;
25 minutes into the lesson.

"So class next up is a cultural favourite: Lycantrophy. As you may or may not know lycantrophy is a breed of a major polymorphic curse by the name of theriantrophy. A tactile magic that causes a sudden and painfull transformation into a hybrid of both man...", the teacher stopped, pivoting on his toes and turning around before continuing his class-wide hike. "and wolf. Now today's topic is solving the lycan problem. What to do if a werewolf attacks you at night?", he inquired before looking into the class for any volunteers.

Sure enough there were plenty to choose from. Bethany answered: "Assuming there is no wolfsbane around you need to distract it with by throwing it something like your purse for example and quikcly hide somewhere where the Moon doesn't shine.", he gave Arthur a smug look as the teacher commended her. Ever since the start of the year she had this one-sided rivalry with him.

"Alright, I think I had enough."

The chair legs rattled as Arthur pushed himself up from his desk, attracting the attention of his fellow students present in the class and the teacher, Mr. Aberthany, who raised his inquiring brow. Arthur's bag swung between his shoulder-blades as he casually lifted it from the ground, on his way to enter the corridor. But just as he pushed open the door the teacher responded.

"Mister MacGargan.", he began, using his table to support his posture and gesturing vividly towards the student in the currently in the process of cultural emancipation. "Is there something wrong? I do not remember you handing me any papers that would explain your sudden departure."

"Wrong? Yeah plenty. Like that I picked this class instead of Lunatics-12. I mean no disrespect to you sir, but what Beth proposed would work on maybe a lesser warg not a werewolf.", he retaliated with his vast knowledge of the magic world.

"Hmm...", the teacher ran his fingers through his beard. "I see. Very well then, what do you propose, mister MacGargan?"

His cornflower blue bag slid from Arthur's shoulder as he made way towards the black-board. "You see. A werewolf is roughly a ton of predatory perfection...", a silhouette of the beast began to form on the board, chalk dust raining down on the floor. "...With that tactic you might as well try playing possum. You forget that there is a brilliant blood-lusted human mind beneath all that fur, Beth.", finishing his creation he looked over his shoulder towards his furious peer. "The moon is just a catalyst, it doesn't matter if it's shining or not. There is one tactic that always works with werewolves, but you need to be one lucky SOB to pull it off.", he turned around and put his finger on the drawing's muzzle. "Yank on it's whiskers and leg it.", his proposal reaped a class-wide confusion.

"Believe me or not, but their whiskers are actually the most sensitive part of their physiology. And by doing this you not only break it's concentration, but also temporarily confuse it's senses of smell and touch. Then you just find the nearest dumpster, jump in it and pray that the wolf doesn't come past you.", he played with the chalk in his hand. "Or you can just keep a dried Wolfsbane in your wallet like I do."

What ensued was a period of silence and awe. His fellow students were genuinely taking notes from one of their peers. Maybe it was the delivery or the earnest tone behind his words, but today he gained recognition within the class.

"You know what, mister MacGargan? Go on to Lunatics-12. There is nothing you can learn from me."

@therustler:

Kit was alone in the classroom the desks beside her empty as recurring students were hesitant about her return to campus. Kit had been a good student and got along with her peers a year ago. But when a student came in boasting about the great Bull, Kit's notorious short temper got the better of her. The fan of Brama took a beating that left him hospitalized and now taking classes online. It was also apart of why Kit was put behind bars and now restarting her junior year.

She had enough notes that she would likely ace any test given on the course. However she was also as bored as the new kid simply spending more time attempting to keep her chair balanced on a single leg. "Is the puking scene really worth note. Is that a lesson? Now children if you are a thief you will find a midevil mace forcing up your lunch." The remark was soft in tone but got a few laughs and a brief glare from the teacher.

"Hold up patheological? Antithesis?" Kit remarked this time louder and silently scolded for speaking out of turn. "Most of the younger criminals don't do what they do for much beyond thinking it the only answer." She'd been around a fair share of criminals not so long ago. "It's not easy getting a job in this town and most people at the least know one person who does illegal activities. When all you know is crime it's easy to turn to. I doubt this Rustler guy felt he was the antiPyrogram or anything. Maybe he just wanted fame fortune and to rustle some feathers."

"Hey new kid back me up. You think this dude was out to rival Dark Vengeance or some patheological lust for crime? You'd think he'd be still around if he was that compelled right?"

(Sorry there ain't more >.> just wanted a intro post)

@arthur_macgargan: mind adding me to the student list? :D

@arthur_macgargan: So if I wished to join?

@arthur_macgargan: Since I already have a character in the other school, I'm coming here first to ask: Need a school counselor? =P

@orpheus_knightfall: (I have Zeke there lol)

I think this school needs a headmaster....Or teacher experienced in Law lol

@arthur_macgargan: Benji is considerably older. Like almost thirty. Was wondering, a teacher or something.

How long has it been? Not even I do remember. I was younger back then, but my mind was just as clear. The Keijijo were a proud clan replete of masters it brew from its fertile history, nourishing the Clan until its uttermost demise. Martial artistry, teochratic theories, cryptic arts of Chi and Chakra, it all linked well. We were a secluded society thriving among conditions outer people would deem impracticable. The old man always said we were self-sufficient inside our walls, cultivating our philosophies and bettering our prodigious and ingenious domain over the mystical.

That was what sensei wanted to believe, what he craved to protect. Every single Keijijo member had a similar thought, safeguarding the veiled utopia above the mountains, contributing their own way. It's noble, but I don't believe it's natural. They all had goals earthed beneath the bottom of their hearts. Dreams they had forgotten and moved on, because it was expected of them.

I can still feel the rain pouring on my hair and soaking the bandages on my hands. My life didn't resume itself to living at Reisho, it resumed to something I could never replace: my sword. All I ever did was swing a blade along the prized master of Kendo of the Clan, also known as father, but it never felt right... To just leave my dreams with that wooden bokuto to succumb there, to let the flames of passion of the dreamy silver-haired kid extinguish. My weapon and I, we had a bigger purpose, we had dreams of traveling the world and meeting new people.

I can hearken my father yelling how dishonored I were and how I ashamed his lineage, tainting it. So many hopes he had, as if I were to master all Yosos and the remaining arts so I could stand up to Impero himself. All I did was swing a blade, I were damn good at it, it fulfilled my desires for power and awoke my other appetite for something else. I can indeed remember his screaming, but I don't remember feeling anything but the next steps I took.

I adopted my own philosophy and name, taught myself what I needed to. You can say I'm a samurai without a master, a Ronin, but I like to think I'm just a child with a sword and an unclear path, which I'm certain is the right one.

♪I want to dive lost mind! I want to dive lost mind!♪

The alarm goes off, spreading the lyrics to Hajime no Ippo's first intro song throughout the bedraggled room. Clothes hurled over a chair, some cookies jar opened above a simple mahogany table, crumbles spread around it due to the half-biten sweet abandoned there. The Silver-haired Samurai sluggishly opens his eyes... Morning already? I swear nights are getting faster as the years pass by. His head hurts and the world seems to be spinning for a jiffy. "Ugh, I'm hungry. Do I have any bread left?" His head bobs from right to left a few times, as if he's a wildling looking for food.

He ultimately decides to rise from his comfortable bed into the wintry world outside the sheets. "W-w-w-who-o allow-wed Cr-r-r-ryoman ins-s-side?" He stated, shivering for a moment prior to rushing near his improvised wardrobe, aka 'The Chair'. It was a swift process until he reached down to put on his shoes. It was a definitely comical scene, an adult hopping in one naked foot while trying to maintain equilibrium as his foot denied any breaches for a perfect fit. "Why. Won't. You. Slip. In!" Every pause of his speech was followed by a pant, until he finally managed to get it right. "Hehe, as smooth as silk." But then, he had to move on to his left foot...

"Why. Won't. You. Slip. In!"

That scene was virtually repeated itself every day at the same time, after waking up and before his injection of glicose. That unwavering composure as the needle entered his arm, he was so used to it. "I better steer clear of candies before I have another heart attack." He always spoke with a grin across his face and a prompt chortle. His life wasn't bad, as a matter of fact, it suggested Drake was accustomed with it, furthermore adding a certain benediction to it, since he loved living every day as the first and the last day respectively, always inherently goofy and lazy, but a good person nonetheless.

"Oh yes! My J-Stars Vs. Plus is getting here today!" Triumphantly and blatantly yelling as he chewed on a slice of bread and sipped some natural orange juice. The Ronin finished his usual pre-work routine, spurning the idea of combing his hair as usual. A simper plastered through his face as he waded off his room toward his office. Despite working as a part-time fix-it man, his veracious job was helping kids puzzled by their destinies just as he was when at their age. Some thought they should do something else because of their families, others didn't even know where they were to begin with and just wanted to use a bathroom. It was his job to make those snot-heads to mind their own desires and hopes and never let them fall back when they should be striving forth.

He also hosted any videogame competition brought to him by the students.

(Thought I'd make a post to introduce the character lol still not even sure if it's acceptable content =P)

@_drake:

The Gardens

"This is a lot nicer than Jefferson High..." Devin thought out loud, referring to his old school in Brooklyn. Ever since Devin's mom went missing and he had to move in with his estranged father, he was having a hard time getting used to Gothic. There was the issues of lack of friends, lack of comfort on his 'fathers' couch, the minor issue of Gothic being destroyed on a weekly bases and last, but certainly not least, the fact that Devin Rodriguez woke up to find himself stuck on the ceiling.

Right when Devin thought his life couldn't get any worse, he found out he was a mutant....or was he? He really had no idea. It didn't help that googling "Am I a mutant?" Was utterly terrifying. When he got passed all of the mutant hate forums he actually found a picture of a "Man Spider" a man who looked more spider than man, he had tons of eyes and eight legs! He shivered, realizing that he was getting lost in his head again.

He didn't know what was worse, this "sticky situation" or the fact that his mom had gone missing....no definitely his mom being missing was worse. He had contacted the police, but they had done little to help. Her suitcase and some clothes were gone, plus their was a typed out letter saying she was running away, but their was no way she went of her own free will. She would never leave Devin.....would she?

No, he couldn't think like that. She was the best parent he ever had, the ONLY parent he had ever had. She loved and cared for him, there was never a hint of this...it couldn't be true. Why would she leave him to this? To living with an alcohol father that was never home and when he finally was, it was because he needed to sleep off his hangover?

He shook his head again, walking through the park. At least one silver lining came from all of this. He was given a scholarship and letter of recommendation from a "Winters Industries." He used his trusty google to find out more of this mysterious company, but found nothing. "Better than Man Spider..." but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, whatever the hell that meant. So now he was here, in a pretty sweet garden, in a interesting school. "Maybe this is the start to something better." *Wack*

"Watch out, nerd!" A alphamale, future lead burgerflipper, jerk yelled, after slamming into Devin and causing him to drop his books. Yup, definitely a new start.

@arthur_macgargan: @arthur_macgargan: I'll be a staff member

@arthur_macgargan:

Any interest in adding a Hawk Lord to the faculty?

@sinister_lovecraft:

@thespyder: (would of replied yesterday but had work to get to)

The gardens were hardly a popular place for the wayward student. She never could get behind the idea of pretty parks and fields in the cesspool that was Gothic. She walked through the garden everyday and everyday she figured something would go wrong. Perhaps it was a childish superstition but she was frequently thinking the vines climbing the academy walls would reach out or that some hunting fetished villain would be hiding in the trees. Worst of all though was the lack of costume to have as she came through. If she could wear her clawed gloves she'd have been close to fearless. On campus though she had to be a house cat not the cat that survived the hard streets of a seedy city.

"Watch out, nerd" remarked a sports based jack ass who of course had no issue picking on fresh meat some. Kit considered kicking him in the head, a run with a spin she'd of looked awesome. She imagined that she'd drag him over to the flower bed and then unexpectedly a rose would devour his head. Then the garden would be shut down. Alas however carnivorous fana was just a wild imagination and starting a fight wasn't the finest call.

She set her books down on the fountain nearby. The fountains water was low and murky. It was hard to see through the filth but one could slightly make out indents in the stone. Where other fountains might shimmer with thrown in wishful coins in Gothic such things were plucked in desperate want for funds. Kneeling down the jade eyed fire starter helped pick up the books. "You good? His tackle once crippled a Barnes student at least that's his self entitled rumor. Personally I doubt it. I could so take him out I bet, names Kit."

@pyrokitten: (No worries. Thanks for responding now! Is this your main?)

Devin looked up from his fallen books, surprised to see someone helping the new kid. Her green eyes were piercing and dangerous, reminding him of a ferocious jungle cat. Still he was grateful for the help. He snapped out of his signature space out, realizing what she had said. "Oh, uh ow." He lied, wincing as he held his shoulder, which had made full contact with the football jacket wearing, neanderthal. Devin had been forgetting he was a bit more durable now and he would have to remember to fake injuries so he could look more...normal. "I think I'll be ok.."

"I guess I'll just have to stick with you then." Did that really come from Devin's mouth? Usually he was the quiet kid, but ever since he donned the webs he'd been acting a bit more confidence on the streets. Apparently that confidence was leaking into his personal life too. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. "I'm Devin, thanks for the hand. You don't have to help the new kid though, I know where I'm from that's just asking to share my death sentence."

He meant what he said. He didn't want anyone else to share in his misery even though, deep down, he could really use a friend.

@thespyder: (at the moment I guess my main would be Vocal. But I don't really have a main in my opinion)

@thespyder: @_vex_@pyrokitten@_drake@arthur_macgargan

Solar Hawk entered the gardens on the way to her new classroom wearing her usual gear, she had thought about changing how she dressed for an actual job, but the clothing and equipment she wore was very much a part of her uniform as a Hawk Lord, so she kept it on. She did agree to leave her mace at home, but the white lantern ring on her finger was still well in place. She walked with purpose, her wings half unfurled even though it was going to take her a moment to figure out where her classroom was located. Hawk Lords were always confident, even when they had no idea what they were doing.

Got yourself an actual job, Luna Hawk's going to flip. Like she said though, I need to associate with the people of Gothic, not just occasionally live here. Also Rook is here...so...win-win.

Solar Hawk had been hired as an expert on archaeology and Egypt and hoped to teach an ancient languages course on her native language. One thing she wasn't concerned about was discipline, people would fall in line pretty quickly if she needed them to. After a bit of searching she found her appointed office and then her appointed classroom. She didn't bother much with the office for now but went straight to work setting up the classroom, even though it would be awhile before it was used. She found someone had brought in a number of items they thought made sense for Egypt and she sighed, quickly removing several that were simply inaccurate depictions. She did however find a statue of Amun-Ra,which she removed from its shelf and placed in the center of her desk.

@thespyder: the one and only with alts a plenty!