Lockheart

He groaned and got out his history book. "Hate this class..." he mumbled.

He smirked, and floated slowly back over to his desk.

((Sorry, bouncing around from humanized to pony and back, got a bit confusing. I'll remember next time! ^^))

He walked slowly into the class, throwing himself into a desk and putting his books down. He noted the sad look on the guys face. He flew over and hovered over his head. "What's wrong, mate?"

He rose up slowly, stretching and grabbed his back pack, carrying his planner in his hand as he lazily strolled over to history.

"Sargent Blitz, Private Lockheart hears you loud and," He paused and fired the sniper. "He's down!" The echo's of machine guns sounded in the background. "Clear. We need a Pegasus in the air ASAP, we're getting overrun and need evac!"

So far, it's been uneventful. It's like moving from one cage to another cage that's a bit more fancy... " He noticed the sidelong glance of another classmate. "Hey, um... Wanna come on over?" He said to the other classmate.

"My parents thought I deserved a higher education than that you could get in the slums of Manehatten, how about you?"

"Really? I just got bored one day and gave it a shot. It isn't as easy as it seemed at first!" He chuckled slightly.

"Well, I'm not all that good at it yet, but electro-house..."He looked over at Ink, hoping he wouldn't think lesser of him.

He spotted a horde of them coming up to MorningDawns left, and started firing, the knock back sending him back a few feet each time, but he hit every shot. "Sending you a small heads up, Morning, theres a pack of about five about to flank you." He put in another mag and started firing. " Make that four... three... two... "

"Er... I like to um..." *Think!* He rubbed his head. "Game... And make a bit of music."

"Lockheart..." He talked as he leaned back to grab the pencil.

He heard the convo going on on his coms system. "You guys need support?" He hopped into the back of the truck and found a sniper. Che king for ammo, he jumped up out of the truck and started flapping his wings with great power until he was hovering above the truck, about as high as they others were.

He was started to doze again after the book incident when the pencil bounced off the back of his neck. He looked up and rubbed the back of his neck, where the sharp point had tagged him. "Who threw that?" He asked gently to no one in particular.