Sebastian

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Sinclaire

[attr="class","FaustContent"]Blah, blah, blah whatever. Name's Iphi—who cares! He's not here to make friends: he's here to eat food. His eyes drifted everywhere but her as he tried to sus out where his banquet—in his mind, he was being served a banquet—was. Then she shattered his dreams.

Ah, yes...Of course he needed to actually do the work first before he'd be allowed to eat. Things like this never work out for him. That's just the way that it is on this bitch of an Earth. Immediately after hearing that, he completely lost all of his vigor. He exhaled with an exaggerated frown, blubbering his lips as he did. As the air left him, he deflated, hunching forward. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get the drill..." he muttered, slowly dragging his feet across the ground as he made his way into the chamber.

Pulling the hood of the penguin onesie back, he slapped the helmet over his head, not bothering to fix or adjust his hair to make himself look less ridiculous. He put on the wrist wraps too after wriggling his hands out of the flippers to roll up his sleeves as well.

Everything in this place seemed pretty high-tech—definitely more than he was accustomed to. Granted, he didn't get out very much. It did get him wondering though: How much did all of this even cost? What kind of operation was this chick running here? Is this the sort of thing that pays really well? Honestly, he had no idea, but it did suddenly reinvigorate him. He straightened himself out and channeled every ounce of rizz in his body. He brushed the bangs from his narrowed eyes and wore a coy smile on his face. "Just one question, love," he began, leaning into his British accent a bit more. "What's your financial status?"

Sebastian

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Sinclaire

[attr="class","FaustContent"]There are very few things in life that motivate Sebastian to get out of bed. School, work, responsibilities—shit like that did the exact opposite. Were it up to him, he'd live his entire life never leaving his bed. Unfortunately, he needed to use the bathroom, shower, eat, etc., and none could be done from the bed. Well, technically it could, but it was just way more effort than it was worth to try and get a setup like that going, but I digress. The point is that free shit is one of the few things in life that motivates him to engage with the world.

To be honest, the whole thing sounded a bit fishy to him, but he was a broke college student. Any chance he had at a free meal, he needed to take it. That is to say, even if he were financially stable, he still wouldn't shy away from a free meal. Even if he were a millionaire, he'd absolutely fiend for a free meal. Food always tastes better when it's free.

Agreeing to meet at the proposed time, he set an alarm to wake up and get ready to go. Then he hit snooze on that alarm. Then he hit snooze on the backup alarm. Then he hit snooze again on the alarm after that. Fortunately, he always set dozens of alarms because he knew that his future self would be a right bastard about waking up. Unfortunately, he ran through a few too many alarms to get ready on time, so she'd just have to deal with him showing up in his pajamas: a penguin onesie. It probably wasn't going to be a problem. It's not like his quirk required him to actually look like he gave a damn.

As usual, his hands were in his pockets as he entered the building, kicking the doors open as he boisterously announced that he was here: "Yo, Sebastian Sinclaire: Glutton Extraordinaire! I'm here for the free food and drinks!"

Sebastian

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Sinclaire

[attr="class","FaustContent"]Because of Sebastian's proclivity towards assigning nicknames to people he meets, he's had his own fair share of nicknames assigned to him. There were certainly a few standout names likes Sebas-chan and Sea-Bass, but he had never in his life been called Bash. What the fuck. Terrible nickname. "Yeah, I'm not buying it," he smiled.

Seeing her quickly get rid of the last of the targets was proof that she didn't need him at all for this exercise. For that matter, he didn't need her either. This exercise was simply too easy...So easy that there must've been some sort of hidden criteria or some sort of bonus content attached to it! Fuck! Even if he was only committing to 25%

"Good idea! I'm not sticking around to find out that there's a whole 'nother layer of work to this! I'm outtie! AND DON'T FORGET YOU OWE ME A RICH DATE!" he shouted, making a hasty retreat by forming several trampolines using the air and environment to take the fastest route out of Ground Gamma. Running, while exhausting, was absolutely justified if it meant getting out of doing more work.

Sebastian

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Sinclaire

[attr="class","FaustContent"]Leading is too much effort. That's like, at least 70%, and he had only promised to give it 25%. Any more than 25% would require her to subscribe to a higher tier.

"I'll certainly give it my 25% best," he shrugged.

What did 25% entail though? Well, it meant he'd at least use his quirk for starters. Second, he'd actually think about how he'd break the target. It was decently high up and far away, so he'd obviously need to throw something at it—or rather, he'd need to catapult something into it. Ah, but he didn't have the marksmanship to nail a shot like that. Wait. He was overthinking this. The instructions were to break all the targets. They never specified how.

Hands in his pockets, he just started stepping on air with a skip in his step as he bounded over to the target. Putting his shoe to the thing, he applied his quirk to the target itself to give it elastic properties for a short period of time. After that, all he needed to do was push against it to bend it backward, and that was that. When his quirk wore off, the target just snapped in half. While it was a rather simple exercise, it was exercise nonetheless. Physically, he might not've been tired, but mentally, he was exhausted.

"Ughhhhhhhhh," he let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. Bounding back down the way he came, he hunched forward with a dead expression on his face. "You get the next several: I'm beat."

Sebastian

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Sinclaire

[attr="class","FaustContent"]"That's the plan," he shouted out nonchalantly as he skipped across the street. The something he was planning on doing? Nothing. The best kind of something.

First thing first: find a place where he could hide out to take a nap. If he took a nap out in the open, one of the idiots he was supposed to be fighting might jump his ass and ruin it. Nah, he needed somewhere discreet that he could sleep...Well, one of the buildings would probably work. Hiding out in one of those should've done the trick! Or so he thought.

"...I'd prefer it if you didn't do that," Sebastian said standing in the doorway with a blank expression and finger pointed to the sky.

Yeah, Sebastian really wasn't expecting the very first building that he stepped foot in to be the one where his enemies were hiding. Talk about rotten luck! Whelp, he was already there, soooooo...When life gives you lemons, you do absolutely nothing with them because making lemonade is a pain in the ass. Also, who the fuck makes lemonade with only lemons? You need other shit to make lemonade, and fuck going out of your way to gather all of those ingredients!

"Okay before you jump on me, I'd like to propose an alternative: just like take me prisoner. I'm really not interested in this whole fighting and exercise and effort thing we've got going on here...So, yeah...I was thinking that you just say I'm your prisoner, and then I'll go like take a nap in a corner or something, yeah?"