Alyandrea: “I’m so fucking DONE with this prissy fatty after today if she doesn’t fucking thank me. Did she even CHOOSE a room last time?? I remember her complaining about the lack of signal and how there’s no way to escape that ‘prison’ of a Dorm. I remember her going on about her daddy leaving her behind to the ‘hobos’…

...Namely US! And I ALSO remember her complaining about the ‘smelly’ gym, the shared bathrooms, the ‘poor’ living conditions… in fact; I don’t remember her NOT complaining about something in that Dorm. EVERYTHING bothered her. Was there an instance when that girl didn’t complain??

Ugh, This just fucking sucks. I already feel myself gettin’ pissed off trying to think about her reaction when she gets back. What a pain. Well, let’s see…

.

.

Aria chose the room closest to the entry way. Heck if I know why, maybe she planned on reaching the Bathroom faster of somethin’. She was sorta secretive about it too. After she brought stuff inside and closed the door, nobody was allowed to peek anymore. I wonder why…

Either way, she is gettin’ the same room. And if she complains...TOUGH. Shoulda been here if you don’t appreciate my choices. Same for fa----Oliviera.

Maybe I should stop cussing so much and calling her fat... she didn’t like it before, although she used it as a joke herself later on. I don’t know. Maybe she’s just weird. But, there are some other overweight students among the other classes. I gotta…

Yeah. I hafta learn to control my mouth. I HAVE to. And more important than my attitude…is my damned inability to protect others!”

*BAM!*

Her fist made contact with the wall, making a loud blunt sound reverberate throughout the hall and neighboring bedrooms. It didn’t end with just one punch though. Her knuckles reddened due to the strike, and normally this would serve as a large enough warning to wake them up from reality. To snap them out of their berserk-like anger. But not Aly.

Witnessing her own knuckles change colors only served to anger her even further. She grew enraged at the fact that her well-honed fist had been ‘weakened’ by her pointless act, and enraged at the overwhelming disappointment she was during their previous Dorm’s assault.

“Weak”…

That is how she viewed herself.

That is what she proved herself to be.

And that is how they no doubt saw her!

Weak!

All talk behind the scenes but when the time comes to act, she can’t be relied upon! When the villains first arrived, why didn’t she investigate the explosion? When they first announced their presence, why did she try and rely on Ophelia’s monster strength instead of trying to face them head on? Her body stepped forward, certainly. But not until she finished getting rejected by Ophelia. Not until her cover was entirely exposed did she muster up enough willpower to stand. And what was the result?

A nigh immediate beheading.

Recalling that trail of events transformed her rage into an inordinate aggregation of fury. Only after delivering four or so more punches did her rampage finally come to an end. She wanted to continue punching, to punch until that ‘weakness’ washed itself away. But the only thing exiting her trained fists, was her own blood.

Noticing what she had just done, her head filled with self-guilt. Once again she caused everybody trouble. Once more… her actions would only disappoint those harboring ‘high expectations’ for her future. And once again, she was to blame for an incident involving spilled blood.

The blood splattered across the wall, although minute, trickled down through a singular droplet-shaped streak.

Upon splashing against the little trace of hardened floor not actually covered by plush carpeting, those painful, repressed memories come flooding back to Alyandrea.

Memories of her life a very long time ago...

Back when she still had a fully functioning family, There was one man she would keep tabs of that always managed to get the job done. One lone man who defied the odds time and again. He always found himself at a disadvantage, always fought against super powered beings stronger that him, yet time and again, came out victorious. He was well loved inside of his neighborhood as the man that knows no danger! He who every underworld out there must absolutely despise, and the superhero that wouldn’t let his ideal ‘Justice’ waver to anyone.

Yes. He was an ‘ideal’ inspiration for those heavily favoring justice. He was a man making monthly payments at minimum wage handling freight shipments and juggling his work life with heavily searching and eradicating any semblance of ‘Evil’ beginning to fester. This man wore Justice on his sleeve like a badge of honor; and adamantly defended that honor with every ounce of his being, during every chance he got.

Her father was her hero.

……

Something needed to change….She has to try hard while she stays here! She knew she wasn’t good enough the moment the referee confirmed her loss back on application day. Losing doesn’t automatically guarantee you won’t be selected for the Hero Courses. The point is to see how well or poorly you fare. However, there was a problem; During one match...she got crushed every time she struck! That last opponent was absolutely ruthless against her. Aly got a few good hits in at the end...but this seemed to mainly trigger the brute. Had their ref not intervened…

Today’s undesirable recourse sailed the point across accurately. She needed more training!

Introducing major changes into her life is definitely the right approach that she seeks. But it can’t end only on the physical side. Trying to not hurt those around her in exchange for some fleeting sense of satisfaction is a major project Aly plans on realizing. She knows how fucked up it is to belittle people and how much it hurts others. At least, it’s fucked up when they haven’t antagonized her too much. Sadly, learning how to control one’s temper isn’t a problem with an easy enough solution. At least, not one which she can master right away. This year was bound to yield results: one way or another.

…

Earlier, Aria chose the closest, but Ophelia chose the farthest door from the entrance. Alyandrea didn’t know why, but didn’t question the girl either. Everybody has to make their own choice, she can’t baby, spoil or coddle NOBODY!

.

.

.

But, what if she only chose the farthest because she was afraid of being rejected? This girl seemed like the type to do that.

Alyandrea pondered over what to do. She recalled her questions to Ophelia back inside of the other dormitory building regarding the two working out together. She also vividly recalled Ophelia’s complexion.

Aly: “Yea...the big lug looked a little happy for a second. Just maybe she’s…

…

Okay...Yeah. It might upset her but fuck it. I’ll just pretend I forgot. Besides, there’s no reason to exclude her all the way back there, alone.”

For now, she grabbed her bloodied knuckles and continued on her way. The blood in the hall can be cleaned up later. She took out a crumpled paper towel and gently wiped the surface layer of skin, then proceeded to pocket it after making sure her soaked up blood was crumpled in the center, so as to avoid staining her apparel. Right after, she used her injured hand to remove two name tags. They had a line far beneath with a word and symbol in front. It looked a little like this: [ROOM #:_____].

On the line she made sure to write the exact numbers for Aria: 001G, Alyandrea: 003G, and Ophelia: 005G. Oliviera...She still wasn’t sure which room to place her inside. The hall separated the two rows of rooms on each floor, and the first floor had enough for 40Rooms! Rather than being situated beside the next number that follows the previous room, like 001, 002, 003 etc...it followed the usual split where evens were on one side while odd numbers remained on the other. So although Aly, Ophelia and Aria were separated by one number, they still became neighbors.

Alyandrea: “As for Oliviera...dammit this girl, where would she even want to be? She likes over the top stuff, so…

…

…

…

But all of the rooms are the same!

And since all of our windows are covered by metal, I can’t tell which room has the ‘best view’.

...Should I just put her on the 3rd floor? Then she can overlook everybody and feel above all of us all she wants. Hehe.”

But it was then that the injured fighter remembered Oliviera’s genuine smile, one she donned right after Alyandrea apologized for the hurtful words prior to the Orientation Games.

Her hand moved on its own, quickly writing in the Room number 007.

Alyandrea: “Aah, FUCK IT! I’m not good with these types of shit. EVERYBODY is gonna be next to each other! If they don’t like it then they can pack up their stuff and move themselves into a different bedroo-!

.

.

.

Wait.

Something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong here.

*Looks inside bedroom* Not here!

*Looks inside bedroom* Not here either!

*Looks inside bedroom* Not here!

*Looks inside bedroom* The same!

*Looks inside bedroom* The same!

*Looks inside bedroom* THE SAME!

.

.

.

Where the fuck is our luggage?!”

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