[Sebastian Sinclaire]

Sebastian ♣ ♦ ♥ ♠ Sinclaire [attr="class","FaustContent"]"When I was a but a young lad, I had fond memories of visiting my grandparents' ranch. When I close my eyes and think back to those moments, I can almost feel the arid breeze accompanied by the sound of wind chimes and the creeky porch. It was hot out in the country side. I used to get all hot and sweaty, and my shirt would practically fuse to my skin. My only respite in those days was my grandma's famous lemonade. Why, I remember when my grandma used to come out onto the porch with a glass pitcher and a cup full of ice. You could only imagine the delight on my face seeing the ice cold droplets on the outside of that pitcher. I hope that this lemonade recipe brings as much joy to your family as it did to me during my childhood. Recipe: Water, Lemons, Sugar. Juice lemons into water, add sugar, and mix. ... Why is it that eveyrone needed to inject some cheesy life story into their recipes? Seriously, if I Google a lemonade recipe, I'd like the lemonade recipe—not all of that preliminary bullshit that I don't care about. Just give me the damn recipe, and stop harping on and on about yo—" "SINCLAIRE!" "EH?" "Take off the blindfold, and pay attention! If I see that blindfold back over your eyes one more time, I'm writing you up, y'hear me?" "Ah, yeah. My bad, teach. I promise I was awake and paying attention! My eyes just get kind of sore from the light, yeah? Too bright," he smiled, lifting the blindfold from his eyes. Anybody that knew even a little bit about Sebastian knew that he was full of shit. I mean, the lights were bothering him, but it wasn't for any legitimate reason. He just loved taking naps in class. He just loved not paying attention. The professor wasn't buying it either, and so he tested the little shit. "Oh? Then you wouldn't mind repeating what I just said?" he asked, folding his arms with a confident smirk. "Eh. You said a lot, so I won't repeat it. You said we're doing a little sparring thing at Ground Gamma. I'm fighting Eli." "Huh...Well, I'll be damned: You were paying attention." "Yup." He was half-paying attention. He didn't get everything that was going on, but he got the important bits—enough to pretend like he was actually conscious of what was going on. The truth was that he got bored and let his mind wander to some inane topic. Something about iced tea? Eh, he forgot what he was thinking about already. Anyway, it was time to get changed and head to Ground Gamma for his fight. Unfortunately, Sebastian didn't have a hero suit, so he didn't bother going to the locker room to get suited up. Instead, he just waltzed on over to Ground Gamma in his disheveled uniform. [attr="class","FaustNotes"][attr="class","FaustTags"]• Sebastian Sinclaire • Elijah •

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[Elijah]

Elijah was honest enough to say he wasn't a model student. He was attentive in the lectures, sure, and got fair marks on whatever tests came his way, but his quiet nature and only speaking to share his blunt criticism on what's supposedly standard procedure left his reputation much to be desired. But at least he was listening enough to even give an opinion.

Compared to Sebastian, he was a saint.

Yes, he knew who Sebastian was, if only because he sees the guy in his classes. Lazes about, always wears a blindfold to doze off. He wondered why the other student would come at all. Part of him though wished he could sleep as easily as the guy did, but he wasn't that lucky even at the best of times- oh, the instructor was calling him out yet again.

Tired eyes watched the event unfold, thankful that something at least mildly interesting was happening. Elijah was surprised that the supposed slacker was able to reiterate what they were going to do today. To the professor's satisfaction at least. Sebastian probably missed everything else for all he knew.

Though he will make one correction as he turned to his colleague. "Hawthorne. You're fighting Hawthorne." Elijah didn't expect to make close connections during his tenure in UAU, so he might as well make those expectations clear to the other student. He wasn't here to make friends.

Yes, we're using that broody line.

Elijah didn't have a hero outfit either but at least he changed into his P.E. uniform before entering the training grounds. He had his kukri and knife vest as well, though he wouldn't be surprised if they were banned from this spar. Punches and Quirks were fine, but pull out a sharp object and suddenly people were afraid of getting sliced. He lifted a hand in silent greeting to his sparring partner before turning to the teacher for further instructions.

Sebastian Sinclaire

[Sebastian Sinclaire]

Sebastian ♣ ♦ ♥ ♠ Sinclaire [attr="class","FaustContent"]It's polite to refer to someone you don't know by their last name—preferably with a polite, respectful honorific like -san. Sebastian, however, didn't care to be polite—or rather, it was more that he found it more entertaining to be rude. It was for that reason that Sebastian typically opted to refer to people using nicknames and often sans honorifics. The few times he did use honorifics, it was because he felt as though it'd make his rudeness more potent (like referring to Kioko as Ki-tan, for example). When Elijah made sure to correct Sebastian, Sebastian made sure to take note of that. "E-Li-Jahn~," he waved, in his usual sing-song cadence. "I don't mind if you call me Sebas-chan, by the way, or you could even drop the honorifics, if you prefer!" he smiled, slapping his cheeks together shaking side-to-side. It probably wasn't a good idea to be poking the bear right before getting in the ring with it, but Sebastian was never afraid of getting a little hurt for his antics. He had quite a good deal of practice with talking shit and subsequently getting hit. "Okay, so, as I explained in class, this isn't about winning. What I'm looking to see is how well you can use your Quirk in a combat scenario. You'll primarily be graded on your control and creativity, but I also want to see both of your athleticism at play since you both have quirks that enhance your maneuverability. Begin on my mark," the teacher nodded, raising his hand. "Well, Eli-jahn, don't hold back," he grinned, raising his fists and assuming a southpaw boxing stance. [attr="class","FaustNotes"][attr="class","FaustTags"]• Sebastian Sinclaire • Elijah •

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[Elijah]

Elijah should've known that he wouldn't be some exception to the other student's mistreatment of others. Maybe he should've just accepted the initial nickname. At least it was a usual one compared to whatever the guy came up with. Too late for that now he supposed; any further refusal would just result in further butchering. Maybe it would reach a point where it didn't use the letters in his name at all.

He sighed, his face blank. "Sinclaire is fine." At least he didn't have to use the first option.

After their instructor explained the nature of their spar, Elijah turned to him. "And what of those who are Quirkless?"

"Their criteria would be different, but that won't apply to either of you. Right Hawthorne?" He then stared pointedly at the student.

Elijah stared back. The instructor raised a brow. Elijah rolled his eyes.

Typical.

Looking back at his opponent, he squinted at the stance. For someone who slacked off, Sebastian had some discipline to him, at least when it came to combat. Elijah had never been one to underestimate even the worst of people but this fact gave him even more reason not to do so.

The guy was also telling him not to hold back. That reminded him of a hero who made the exact same request. Incidentally, the freshman's response would only change slightly as he couldn't act before the signal that would start the match. "Sure," he answered simply, and instead of throwing daggers straight away, Elijah drew both his kukri and prepared a stance of his own. Now all they had to do was wait.

And hope Sebastian wasn't unlucky enough for things to get messy.

Sebastian Sinclaire