Dr. Claw, the Great and Terrible
Not long after they had set their usernames and passwords had Dr. Cagey given them the assignment to hack into the other students' accounts and steal virtual currency. Rusty stretched his gloved paws. He had never been one to attempt hacking and, of course had no idea how to do it discreetly. However, he did know how to program machines and mechanics, and if there was anything he could do, it was brute force and issue until he got an answer. With the mechanical fingers of his gloves poised over his keyboard, he prepared himself to get to work until the door had slammed open and, on the other side, was yet another robot.
The robot announced that Dr. Cagey's job had been terminated and stunned the villain immediately. "I am your new software teacher. Please, call me Bit, and proceed with the assignment Dr. Cagey provided as if this scuffle never happened."
Rusty stared at his view-screen in relative disbelief. "Hm. Ominous and suspicious indeed, however I am not one to question an opportunity to not be taught by a filthy, lowly human!"
However, immediately after all of this had transpired, the bell had rung. As strange as it was, the teacher had paid no protest to what had happened and each student got up from their seats and gone to their next classes. Rusty's next class was chemistry, something he had anticipated to be an easy grade. The class started with yet another human degenerate teaching them, though as young as she appeared Rusty knew that she would still be older than him, definitely in cat years even.
"Your homework is to make something! Anything! I don't care what it is, as long as you made a concoction out of two or more things, alone or with a group. I've got a lab at my house you can use if you need one." Detox announced. Simple enough, Rusty had a few formulas on hand in his suit's database that he could cheese out simply enough. Detox then leaned forward at her desk. "And if you'd like some extra credit... I've got a little game we can all play, since I got Headmaster's permission to use the courtyard today. Interested?"
"Extra credit?" Rusty asked through his suit's speaker. "And what, pray tell, would we be doing?"
"Will you really? I've always wondered how it would feel to get shot. Will you aim for my knees? I've heard that hurts the most you know. Or perhaps my gut. That's a long lasting pain. Oh, goodness, this is ever so exciting!" One of the other female students stepped towards Arleigh, closing the distance slowly. The joy in her tone infuriated Arleigh beyond measure, and as the girl came closer she would soon find herself staring down the barrel of a military shotgun. Unlike any of the smaller weapons that Arleigh used, a point-blank shot from this would definitely do some serious, if not permanent damage to the face.
"ONE..." Arleigh said, clearly skipping two.
"Alright, kiddos..." The gym teacher interrupted, and Arleigh froze in place with the tip of her barrel pressed against Mary's forehead.
"Aright, jeez. We'll get into your weird murder hole or whatever," Randall said, walking past Arleigh, nudging her towards the "murder hole" and taunting as he did so. "Why don't we settle this in... there."
A wide, wide smile spread underneath Arleigh's mask, but this anticipation was followed by an immeasurable degree of rage as the bell rang and they had to leave for their next class, much sooner than anticipated. Arleigh lowered the arm that had turned into a shotgun quickly and began to shake violently as the same sounds resounding from her cloak as she transformed once more. Then, she let out a bloodcurdling scream as her poncho was whipped up, revealing that the entirety of her right arm had transformed into a massive anti-material rifle. With a deafening and thunderous bang and blinding flash of red light, the gun was fired at the crowd of students running laps around the room. In one instance, the student was running normally like the others. In the next, his body was firmly embedded into the gymnasium's wall, trickles of blood running down from where his nose had presumably been shattered to dust from the impact.
The large rifle vanished into another cloud of black smoke as it reformed back into her arm, and as the gym student pealed off from the wall and fell to the floor the yellow light from Arleigh's goggles vanished, and she lifted them to reveal her normal eyes.
"Well that's unfortunate," she said in her normal tone. "But I suppose we'll have our 'fun' some other time. I'll see you later."
"That's my name. Deadvolt," Arleigh's physics teacher had written on the wall. Arleigh, herself, had once again taken the seat right smack-dab in the middle of the room. "Today's class is too short to get anything practical done, so I've got a basic assignment that will define your experience here for the rest of the year. The cold hard truth is, heroes don't play fair. You'll start by fighting just one, and then twenty more come out from the woodworks like cockroaches. They get scientific geniuses to build them special gadgets. In a one-on-one situation, the hero will almost always beat their villain. So we, being the objects of their disdain, have to rely on strength in numbers. As such, today's assignment is to group up. I don't care if it's in pairs or larger groups, but I want every student grouped up with at least one other student by the end of this class. I'll explain more after you've taken care of that. Anyone that fails to complete this assignment will be removed from my class starting tomorrow."
Deadvolt then asked to see Kess personally, who stood up and walked over to the door, pausing after she wrenched it open to point directly at Arleigh. "Hey," She said, shooting a scornful look at everyone but Arleigh. "Don't anybody think of partnering with Gunbitch over here while I'm gone... She's fucking MINE."
Kess walked through the door and closed it behind there. Arleigh paused and blinked a couple times. "I am a modern woman who will make her own decisions thank you very much," she said simply, then stood up from her seat.
Arleigh briefly scanned the room, finding the usual list of suspects that she had encountered earlier throughout her school-day. However, there was at least one new face: a girl wearing a camouflaged overcoat not unlike the matte-black poncho that Arleigh had opted to wear. Not only that, but Arleigh could swear she saw the unmistakable shape of fire-arms hidden throughout her person. Arleigh got up from her seat and stood in front of the unknown student's desk. "Hello, my name is Arleigh Shmidt, and you seem like the only other sensible person in this school. Would you like to be friends?"