Mark nodded at the library comment, sighing. "Tell me about it. Makes me incredibly happy I have little paperwork to worry about. Or...well, I'm supposed to fill these things out at the college, but I tend to not do them. Haven't gotten in trouble yet." He'd looked at two cabinets at a time, skimming over the names available in them. "Nemo. Latin for 'Nobody'. Pretty sure that's Sean being cute. Which means he's put himself in a position where he wants to be found. Unsettlin'."

He pulled out a file that looked promising, skimmed it, then put it back. "Well, I am American. If there's anything we love more than guns, baseball, and apple pie it's figuring out ways to fuck our government whenever they attempt to fuck us. In some cases that comes in less than legal means...or in the bad cases, awful but lawful." He paused a moment, looking over another file. "What was it like, growing up in one place? You said it was up in the mountains, right?"

Kokoro

There truly was a God, and he had a sense of humor. Mark knew this because he was the butt of every joke that old man told. Looking over at Stellar he gave her a smile and indicated a place to the side as the class slowly got their act together. Some where ready for a fight, others were still grappling with what just happened. The few that had expected this were staying in their seat. "There'll be plenty to observe, especially is people don't answer the question." Or if they didn't pull themselves together. The girl in the pink needed an extra moment to get a hold of herself.

And yet, in spite of herself, she seemed to be the only one with any kind of sense. And she was sweating bullets. Literally. Like damn, how useful of a skill could that be? Mark was now jealous, but he couldn't openly say that. Instead, it was learning time. "You! Yeah, you, with the nervous disposition! You seem to know what you're talking about, which puts you one full leg up on all these hero wannabes. Take a deep breath, and enlighten the class." He took a seat on the table, picking up one of the guns and point it...down? Was down right?

lonewolf,Stellar,Raven Jakobs,

The woman's eyes went wide at that, and swallowing hard she stood up. "R-right, um...right this way please!" Mark wanted to give Kokoro a thumbs up, but he didn't want to take too many chances. He'd wait for them to be alone for the praise. The woman would start to lead them through the building, with Mark making notes here and there about the layout. Looking at blueprints was one thing, but seeing the building itself was another. It gave him an idea who worked where, in the event he needed to come back.

Going up a level and into a building near the back, the woman would open up a room that was relatively big, filled all the way around with file cabinets four drawers high. "This is where they keep most of their physical data, sales over the last five years. They do a purge of anything older every six months," she says, fidgeting. "You won't...mention my name in your investigation, will you?"

Mark looked at her, taking off his sunglasses and smiled. "Don't worry. We'll say 'anonymous source'. Thank ya." With a sigh of relief, followed by a bow, the woman turned and left. Taking a breath Mark looked around and took out his cheat sheet. "Alright. Now the real challenge." He began walking down the aisle, looking at the labels on the cabinets. "Nemo, nemo..."

Kokoro

"If you think no one will notice, then the support students have cabbages for heads and the inspectors have turnips coming out of their asses." In the doorway would be every student's torment: Lone Wolf. Anyone that hadn't taken his courses wanted to because of the amount of work they had to do, and anyone that did take his courses regretted every minute of it. He looked at the detector in hand, ceasing his lean against the door way as he entered the room. "As for me, I may have been born at night, but sadly for you it wasn't last night." He held out his hand, indicating for her to hand over the detector, or the screwdriver, or both.

"Tampering with safety equipment is also grossly frowned upon, especially within a classroom. If you're looking to build something, there are actual labs for you to work in. If you're looking to test quirk related things, we have multiple simulation fields, not to mention practice grounds for students. And no, your excuse is not good enough. Now we have to call an inspector out here just to fix what you broke." He smiled, one that was filled with sarcasm. "And you can be the one to apologize to him for ruining his Saturday."

Mitoki Ōno

It had finally happened. Somewhere, someone had put enough pressure on Lone Wolf to run a gun safety course.

At least, they had convinced him to run a one-off seminar.

The beauty of being a subject matter expert was Mark had full discretion to run it however he wanted. There was a small amphitheater set up near the training areas, and that was where he had told the students to gather. The ones that were interested in this kind of thing, at least. When students began to arrive they would notice that Lone Wolf would be nowhere to be found, but there would be a cheap plastic table in the middle of the theater with all kinds of guns on it: predominantly handguns, but anyone familiar with his evasion course would notice Charlotte along the other weapons; the very same terror that he always loaded with dummy rounds in front of the students before each of his exercises.

For anyone unfamiliar with Lone Wolf and his exercises, they would no doubt take this table as an open invitation. After all, as the time came for the seminar to start he was no where in sight. He had a reputation for being laid back and uncaring, going so far as to give out as little homework as possible. Even his lectures were few and far between.

To the initiated, this very much was classic Lone Wolf. There was some kind of twist, something that was going to be unexpected. A trap had been laid, and some of the more foolhardy were beginning to approach the table, reaching out to start picking up the firearms laid out on the table. And for those present and familiar, they would be vindicated that this was in fact a trap. From the left side of the theater Lone Wolf would emerge, an old belt-fed monstrosity in hand as he hefted it up, aimed at the students around the table. For those too oblivious or stupid to take cover, they'd start to move the moment he pulled the trigger.

Of course, every bullet in the gun was a blank. He checked and double checked to ensure there would be no actual rounds in it. That would be too much paperwork if so much as one slipped through. Either way, he swept the entire area with "gunfire", causing general panic and mayhem in the process. Once the last round was expended he'd stand there, nodding his head. "So that's most of you dead," he says, hefting the gun up as he moved towards the table. "I see some of you have some level of sense about you. Good."

He set the monstrosity down, turning to face the class. "I ain't gonna bother with names. Either you knew me from before, or you know me now. What are the four rules of gun safety?" A point blank question, one he knew he was not going to get any good answers to. Some students who had privately asked for lessons knew the rules, either through their own research or trial by fire, but all these kids? There was some thirty students here. He had his doubts.

[attr="class","likedo"]