That's not entirely true, the Plug Suit probably counts as a uniform. Correction: Renton MacShea had never worn a school uniform before. Frankly, he didn't like it. Too same-y, too much "Yay conformity!" for him. For a man who can literally go down to see clones of himself growing in a vat, Renton MacShea is quite the individualist.
Which is why seeing a group of what could be described as "punks", if one were feeling generous and/or drunk was like a gift from God. Both minds of Subject 13 were in perfect sync for one brief, shining moment; shouting together in harmony.
"Finally, someone we can punch!"
He walked up to the biggest punk, tapped him on the shoulder, then broke his nose with a headbutt. The blood smelled like LCL, tasted like victory. A lanky kid with a reverse faux-hawk jumped him from behind; he'll be singing castratto for a few days. Somebody came at him with a pipe or something; after Renton laughed in his face at his feeble attempt at a headshot, the kid learned the folly of his ways. They kept stepping up, Rent Boy knocked them down until finally they lay in a heap at his feet.
"Listen up you schmucks, and listen real bloody good. My name's Renton MacShea and I demand respect. You pitiful radges better learn some real punk or learn how to fight if you want to still be able to walk by the end of this semester, savvy?" He looks out to the crowd of gawking students that formed around the fracas, eyes flashing green. "If anyone's got a problem with what I just did, they can take it up with me or me sis. Look us up under 'Bad Motherf*ckers'." With that, he gives one of the punk kids a kick for the road and walks to his first class.
By lunchtime the name "Renton MacShea" is getting passed around like Pokemon cards.
Amanda had enjoyed the trip to the museum. When they arrived at the school and she'd managed to extricate herself from the bus, refusing to let anyone help her except Pala, who was ordered to have her chair ready for her when she made it off the fragging vehicle. Settled comfortable in her chair, she wheeled off towards a phonebooth with a trashcan next to it, tossing the wrapper from the snack she'd eaten on the bus into the trash before wheeling back over to join the rest of the class. Unlike the other girls, she wore a pair of pants like the boys - she'd won that argument with the school board a long time ago, she was not going to be sitting in her wheelchair all day so the boys could oggle up her skirt at whim. Not if they wanted to keep their jobs.
She didn't bother trying to socialize with the idiots here, and she seemed to go out of her way to avoid spending any time with the other pilots, even Pala - who was the only one who had earned even a small amount of respect from her. McShae grated on her nerves to the point that she almost had to physical restrain herself from backhanding the moron on more than one occasion. Eventually through the week, she gravitated to spending some time with Chloe.
Outside of school, she continued working on her models, hoping that she would actually make some progress with getting them all assembled, or the assembled ones painted, this week. Last week had been a bust, she hadn't been able to focus on her hobby as well as normal, thoughts about Unit 08 kept popping into her head.
"Ugh," Johann groans to himself rubbing his shoulder as he takes a seat in his office setting down his mug of coffee from the break room before scribbling one last signature. "UGh!" He adds letting the liquid dribble back over his lips into the mug again. "Memo to self - don't drink the coffee unless I make it myself or see it being made." He adds tearing a packet of sugar and dumping it on his tongue and rubs away the bad taste of old reheated coffee.
"Wait, I got this from block A..." He adds muttering to himself. "Oh those poor scientists." He adds shaking his head and standing up. "Right," He adds enthusiastically picking up a small folder. "I can read on the way." He adds humming to himself and reviewing current schedules and circling things with his pencil as he heads down the halls to block A.
"Hmm, ah right school started again..." He mutters to himself reviewing some papers. "Well as long as nothing too serious happens, I suppose I can delay the inspections to see how the pilots are adjusting till the end of the month..." He adds making a few notes adding things to his schedule for later in the month. He wanders into the break room adjacent to the labs and pours out the coffee with his free hand and letting the pot rinse in the sink as he casually peaks at the coffee machine over his papers and grumbles throwing away some old grounds and a filter as he commences to make coffee while reviewing reports.
"Oh, basic clean-up should be finished later this afternoon..." Johann adds with a curious tone - knowing that the remains have simply been disassembled and relocated. "It feels like ages since i've been out drinking, good enough reason to have a drink as any I suppose," He smirks listening to the coffee percolate. "Lets see if anyone's interested." He adds pouring himself a new cup and testing it with a satisfied smirk. He proceeds to make rounds and visit the various departments as he check's status and makes some casual inquiries if anyone was interested in joining him for drinks that night.
Plot is like some medicines. One is Orally where the gm tells you a beautiful story that is fun to listen to and everyone enjoys. The other is Rectally as in 'insert plot here' with a sign leading to your players asses.
Jack doesn't really have much to say about his new school, mostly because on the only day he actually showed up they packed everybody off to the civic district. He's seen this city from atop a giant angry war robot; like a field trip can compare to that. Just hearing the words "Social Scholastics and Antiquities" makes him spasm with boredom.
He takes one look at the marvelous structure in front of him, pausing to admire its architecture, then looks around for someplace nearby that looks halfway interesting that he can blow the next few hours in. He pulls the yo-yo out of his jacket and nails a Sleeper, slapping back into his hand with satisfying force.
It was underlined, circled, written in red on his calendar: "Social Scholastics and Antiquities Fieldtrip". Of course, it was his favourite class - the highlight of his day in fact - so the trip, naturally, he could expect the trip to be the highlight of his week. Even in uniform he was perenially underdressed, standing out from the group almost as badly as Amanda; there's not much use for a fashion sense in a refugee camp. But the anxieties that might have dragged his down his spirit were made weightless by his anticipation. He barely noticed Amanda's ordering, which he wouldn't have objected to anyway, and, for once, failed to hover around her for companionship.
But when he stepped off the bus, the view struck him strangely. His spirit didn't falter but turned thoughtful. He remembered Civic District from the battle but seeing it from a different angle...
The Civic Museum of the World is very aptly named, as it turns out. In the entrance foyer is also the first exhibit, which consists of a large preserved stone into which is etched a copy of the Code of Hammurabi, one of mankind's first known written covenants civic order. Underneath the sealed container holding the exhibit is a brief treatise on ancient codes of law, covering such varied ground as the Assyrian Codices (cutting off of ears and noses is the only way the Assyrians ever learned from their mistakes apparently) to the Draconian Constitution (the first set of written laws in Athens, named after their writer Draco who thought quite highly of the death penalty and whole-heartedly recommended it as the solution for questions of minor felony and major offense alike).
After this refreshing primer on the origins of enlightened civic law, the first few branches of the museum provide a stimulating view into the evolution of these firm bedrocks of justice into more complicated forms of governance. Naturally, quite few of the students in your class actually really notice any of it, and instead itch for the chance to wander on their own. Very soon you've all received clearance from the tour to separate into small groups or individuals and explore at will. Or maybe that never stopped you in the first place.
Chloe finds her way to the museum cafeteria unaccompanied, toying awkwardly with her cell phone the whole way.
Amanda is sitting watch as Pala busily inspects the interior of a full-size replica of the Roman Senate chambers ("did you know that the assembly buildings were called the Curia Julia and in time of the Roman Empire's rise they were reduced in number to only 600 standing members even though only around 150 or so ever assembled at any given....") when she sees Renton, the more violent half of the unusual distaff duo, kicking around an exhibit of the Dialogue of Pessimism, a no-doubt uplifting text translated straight from the original Babylonian. Apparently it helped form the foundation for the Sophist philosophical movement which in turn heavily influenced the development of the concept of judicial representation. Or something.
Jack finds a corner off on his own, pulling off tricks with his yo-yo as he separates from the others. Soon enough he is out of sight of the rest of the class, presumably trying to find some quiet way to waste a few hours of the field trip.