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October 2nd, 2017, 2.17PM


Freedom City University, North End, Freedom City, New Jersey, USA


Reinstein Hall


"So is of the case! Thank Marssaulize Benjawan for hadbringing us to that 'tention! Envirolonament and is...primary determiner of what morals you got!


Professor Sullivan Mash, PHD of medical ethics, simmered behind his desk. His bulky brown suit bulged with the steely muscles beneath, the sweat standing out on his shiny grey head beading under the harsh lights of the auditorium-style classroom, intersected with stark black lines of tattoos. From one ear dangled a ring of gold that would have been a good bracelet on a smaller man, which brought out his pitch-black eyes. "Sully" had no indoor voice to begin with and had a keen appreciation for the dangers of letting the students in the back down by softening his words for those up front. So while, as ever, his class was jam-packed, there was none of the sotto voce chattering and whispered conversation Mali was used to from last year. 'Professor Smash' had a keen eye on top of his cannon-like voice, and did not suffer inattention no matter how gifted his pupils.


Ripping a cloth rag from his pocket to soak on his streaming face, Sullivan gesticulated wildly with the other hand as he resumed "So bad in truck! You got carpstruption! You got haberdasher, you even got dovement inftraference! But people loves in your hands, tomorrow we examine-" he squinted at the ceiling like he was trying to burn holes in it "-im-pact of Cold-War-Ol-ym-pics on -mod-ern sports! Pegs three-fuddy to four-hundred-twelve!"


He spun on his heel and slammed his grey fist onto the granite desk with a shattering THUD


"Bye! Second trussed next woke! See me if you probs!"


Like a dam had burst, the students sprang into action, the low hubbub of exits and entrances in education buzzing to life. A few of the students at the front took out ear plugs, looking faintly shaken. The ones who were known to take the most accurate notes were already being accosted by the rest who couldn't begin to make out what Professor Mash was saying. The lectures so far hadn't been strictly necessary, most of the material was already in the book. But piecing together the erratic mind of their teacher was always a must for those who wanted an edge.


"Mali!" the word cracked out like a whip, Professor Mash pointing directly at the young woman "See more in orifice! Have fedback on lats paper!"


Several of the those around Mali shot her sympathetic looks. Even if it was all good, being in enclosed spaces with Sullivan could be harrowing.




Ravenna Blackwood was a tall, cool glass of stout, handsome despite the years she carried on her elegant shoulders and aristocratic face lined with cares. She dressed well, but not with an aim to dazzle or impose, a simple sweater of dark blue and crepe pants still worth more than all the clothes Jon had ever owned. A silver necklace bearing a single dark opal glimmered around her slender neck, framed by her long, thick black mane.


She'd called Jon there for a job, explaining over the phone that it was a delicate, sensitive matter that required the utmost caution and discretion. So she had brought him to an upscale club in North End, gotten them a private alcove, and told her sad tale.


With a sigh, Ravenna set down her glass, untasted, and fixed Jon with her tawny eyes: "There is a supervillain working at the university. My ward attends his classes. I want him exposed and...removed."


In the dark of the corner, her eyes almost seemed to glow. "Can you do this?"

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Mali had fought robots, and ninjas. She was friends aliens, robots, and ninjas. Yet for all that, this professor might be one of the weirdest people she'd ever me. Professor Mash was....an odd man. Yet she did as was asked. She took a deep breath and calmed her nerves. College was an interesting experience. She was grateful that she had decided to live in the dorms at Claremont, gave her a new perspective. Made it easier to transition out on her own, in the adult world. So, with a little trepidation, she knocked on his office door. 

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Jon was of two minds on the case. It was simple, yes. But this simple? Just remove a lunkhead... 'supervillain' from office? Villains were a dime a dozen in this town and there were much more qualified folk than him. Fortunately for Jon, he had a little back up plan. He kept her talking a bit, digging in her mind for some motive. To see if she was on the up and up. Luckily, he could walk and chew gum at the same time, or in this case, listen while searching. He kept a cool demeanor. Her thoughts gave her a beautiful form that pretty much fit the shape he saw. But her thoughts?

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