Forensic Detection 101 (Open)

The classroom as empty for the moment, as Grey Carver walked in, flipping the light on. It was a small classroom, but that didn't bother him. He was a brand new professor, it stood to reason that his teaching space would need to grow as his tenure did.

He took a look at the blackboard that spanned the front of the classroom, writing his name and the class in big white letters:

"FORENSIC DETECTION 101: PROF. CARVER"

Nodding at his handiwork, he sniffed. His enhanced sense of smell didn't like the chalk dust that now lingered in the air, but he could deal with it. A little chalk dust beat the smell of the alleyways and back streets of Vale when he was a detective. He made sure his materials and teaching space in front of him was clear, and waited for the first students to arrive.

Carver raised his brow as his first student entered the room. He took a look at him, allowing his olfactory sense to tell him the young man's story. It was... difficult to get a read on him, almost like his chemical balances were atypical. Carver's faunus nose had the potential to read a person's body chemistry, and as his student sat down, he cocked his head, confused at what his nose was telling him. Something about the boy was just... off. Ignoring it for now, he nodded at him.

" 'S a funny way of saying hi, but sure, salutations." He gave a small, curt grin, and leaned back against his desk.

"Welcome to Forensic Detection class. We'll wait and see who else shows up, and start in a few minutes."

A young man walked down the halls of Syne,as he normally did he wore his usual attire a black trenchcoat a tee-shirt, Jeans, and sneakers. Today he would be attending his second class at Syne Academy, Forensic Detection 101,It was an interesting class that was for sure, while he himself didn't particularly partake in mystery and detective work he decided it would be nice to try it out.

Once he arrived at the doorway of the classroom he bypassed reading the name plate for the class and opened the door It was a bit loose for a door but Roy Ignored it while muttering under his breath"Must be broken" He took a quick glance at what he assumed to be the teacher, he was a polar opposite from Haze in the looks department, appearing quite scruffy no where near as regal looking. He gave a quick "Hello"before heading toward the back of the small room.

He then quickly glanced at the other two students surprised to see not one but two familiar faces in the form of Tokaru,and Shun. He gave a quick wave before sitting down in the back row and staring toward the front.

The student who walked in second was an explosion of facts to Grey, some subtle and others incredibly overt. Her strength was enormous, as she unintentionally damaged his classroom door, and it suggested that if she tried, she could give anyone a real fight. The wrappings suggested that her primary method of combat was using her hands and feet, a martial artist.

Opening his wolf senses again, his sense of smell and trained eye told him more stories: She smelled strongly enough of a specific soap brand that even a human could smell it if they were trying, and that combined with the faint scent of damp from the almost-evaporated water in her hair told him she'd showered recently.

Why a shower at what had to be mid-afternoon? The way she walked carried an almost undetectable twitch, the kind that happens in the muscles after a good tough workout. So, a martial artist who trained hard, and was diligent enough to put effort into cleanliness after said workout. It spoke volumes about her without her even opening her mouth.

Carver nodded to her, keeping the easy smile on his rough features. "Don't worry about the door, happens to the best of us." Gods knew that when he was growing up, learning to manage his semblance had been a process of trial and (destructive) error.

The third student to walk in was a bit more guarded in how he walked, and it took the former detective a moment to make an educated guess about his state of affairs.The student's coat was clearly a hand-me-down of some kind, which would have been discarded long ago for either fashion or utility if it didn't have some deep personal sentiment attached to it. Family heirloom maybe?

He moved with an almost lazy gait that seemed natural, but the more he thought about it, seemed intentional. Like his casual exterior was a front for a disciplined interior. A faunus? Hard to say, but even though it would explain the subtle guardedness, he somehow doubted it.

Carver strengthened his theory by watching the attentive way the student's eyes flickered around the room, taking even himself in and judging him; this one was someone who had been out in the real world, and had learned to pay attention. He could be wrong, of course. It looked like he knew the others, so at least they had a head start on social interactions. "Well, come on in and don't be shy. We'll go ahead and get started, and if anyone else comes in, they can pick up in the middle."

Taking in his students, Carver took a breath. This was his first time teaching anyone what he did, and he hadn't really thought about it up until now. How do you teach what comes naturally to yourself? Starting from the ground up, he decided.

"Let's get introductions out of the way," he said in a warm rumble that echoed in the moderately sized room.

Pointing to the board behind him, he wryly addressed his students again. "I'm your instructor for this class. You can call me Professor, or Teacher, or whatever you want to call me, but most folks just call me Carver. I won't get offended if you do the same."

Adjusting his tie with a slight leftward shift, he looked around as if searching for something. Seeing a folding chair in the corner, he walked over and grabbed it, setting it up backwards in front of the podium, close to the front row. "It looks like it's gonna be a small class this semester, so I'm not gonna shout at you from behind the lectern. Most of this class is conversation anyway, not something that I can rattle off at you like history or dust theory."

Cocking his head and looking around, he spoke again. "Let's not abandon schoolyard tradition altogether, however. I want each of you to tell me your name, where you're from, and why you're at Syne Academy. Then, we'll begin."

Kat Monroe had made sure he was clean before going to class, his black hair styled so that it looked normal for once. He had planned on making a good impression. However, as he walked up and saw the door broken, he figured that it wasn't quite as needed as originally anticipated. Even though he was a hermit, he was wearing a black suit and tie, with black dress pants and dress shoes. On his shoulder, he wore a laptop bag, which held his portable computer. His black hair was styled so that it stood up in a nice way, giving his hair personality. More personality than he, himself, had. He walked through the broken door.

Kat figured that he should make some deductions about everyone there. It's a matter of should. He didn't. He didn't wish to pry into their lives at the current moment. As if he did, he'd have most of them processed and figured out faster than most can read a two paged book. He knew this skill and kept it close to his heart, however, he'd much rather not use it on a day-to-day basis against other people. A lot could be garnered from how you could stand.

Hidden by his height, and good placement, was the revolver in his waistband. He always kept it there, for the sake of having defense. He wasn't strong enough to make a dent with normal weapons, even he knew that. So, even though he'd do less with it than most people here, he kept it. It was simple enough to have it and be done with it there. He made sure that when he went out, that he'd always have it loaded, and class was no different. If it were up to Kat, he'd not have particularly attended any other class that wasn't like this. The one aobut paying attention.

Kat, upon reaching the door, walked in and sat near the middle of the room, so that he'd have grasp of what was happening.

He had heard the assignment coming down the hall, and had decided to go after the small woman named Shun.

"I am Kat Monroe. I hail from a small town. I am at Syne to study the art of hunting, and the hunters that do it."

Kat spoke in a monotone voice. The somewhat tall man was not a complicated man. The second you thought that, the second you lost. He was a social hermit that, beyond everything, lacked social interaction. Sure, he had skills that most didn't, but that didn't matter when a guy got in your face and punched you.

As he sat in the back of the room he witnessed each student's Introduction From Tokaru wanting to become an apothecarian,to Shun not even understanding why she excatly she was here.

As Roy was about to speak another student walked into the classroom as he was about to speak.  His eyes quickly darted over his form, his choice of clothing and the way his hair was styled made him seem fancily dressed compared to the majority of the others in the room who had dressed rather casually,and  Something about him was a bit...off maybe it was the way he sat or maybe he was just being paranoid.

The student sat down in the middle row before speaking out revealing himself as Kat Monroe, while giving a fairly simple answer to the professor's question. His voice was very Monotone almost as if had no emotion or he was just not used to talking to people.

As Kat finished Roy the let out a small sigh before giving his own introduction "My name is Roy Fox, Before I came here I was a travelling Mercenary, I simply wish to help people to the best off my ability. Roy said while staying seated and thinking about how many different kinds of people that were attending the class on this day.

Carver noticed the other student walking in, and let him and Roy finish their introductions. He stood, swiveling off of the chair and placing it to the side. Straightening his tie again, something he wasn't used to wearing, and nodded.

"Okay, good to see we're all here for different reasons. A little about me, I grew up in Vale, but moved to Menagerie for a job. When that job ended, I worked as a police detective for a number of years." He wasn't trying to impress them, teens never get impressed by old people's accomplishments; he said it to establish their trust in his experience.

"What you might be asking yourselves," he continued as he addressed them, "is why we even have a class to teach detection skills. Most of you are here either to become better fighters, medics, engineers and hunters of Grimm. Not many of you will end up as investigators, but investigation and observation will enhance every facet of your chosen profession."

He addressed each of them individually, speaking as an older peer instead of holding his authority over them. Teaching was different from lecturing.

"Tokaru, being able to discern a patient's history can reveal additional information about them that can lead to a better diagnosis. Example," he gestured as he spoke, "I once worked a case where we had a victim attacked by an unknown assailant. Multiple lacerations, doctors couldn't seem to stop the bleeding. But, a keen eyed doctor could see the shard of glass that the perp had manipulated with his semblance, driving them deep into the victim. Saved her life."

Turning to Kat and Roy, he continued. "In combat, observation is step one. Whether identifying a key weakness in a Grimm, or a flaw in your opponent's attack pattern, being able to bring an extra level of perception to bear will give you the advantage. That often translates into a win."

Needing something tangible as an example, Carver thought about his time in the white fang, and a protest that turned violent. He'd stepped in to help defuse a chameleon faunus who had gone rogue, started taking potshots at humans. But they didn't need details, just an example of how Carver had dealt with him.

"Once, I fought a guy who could turn invisible. I was getting ripped apart from every angle, couldn't see him, couldn't hear him, couldn't smell him. But, just like you can't see the wind, you can see what it affects. Even an invisible foe leaves footprints, disturbs the dust, their guns leave gun-shot residue and their blades disturb air currents. He'd relied on people's distrust of their own senses to maintain his advantage, but he got sloppy. Trusted that nobody would be paying enough attention to notice the fine print. Ended up winning that one, barely."

Running a hand through his hair, Carver shrugged. "Most people you'll fight won't be invisible, but who knows? You could learn something useful. But you're here to participate, not to hear me yap. Grab a partner, and from appearance alone, I want you to come up with three observations about them. They'll tell you if you're right, then you switch."

"The point of the exercise isn't to get it right the first time necessarily," Carver pointed out, "just to get you in the habit of noticing fine details. More than just, 'that guy or girl is attractive or unattractive', which is where most people's conclusions stop. Once you're done, I'll go a little deeper, and then you'll practice on me. Pair up and get started!"

Taking a seat at the chair in front of the students, Carver wondered how keen their observation skills would be, and this would be a good exercise to get them in a good habit.

While he sat in the the back of the room Roy listened attentively as the teacher described himself describing his origin's while he straightened his tie in an uncomfortable manner, most likely not used to wearing such formal clothes. He then described how observationial skills would be useful for every, one no matter which path they chose. He then asked them to pick a partner and list three things about them. Roy sighed as Tokaru chose Shun leaving him to the man he didn't know anything about.

"Guess I got Kat then" Roy mumbled under  breath as he approached the man sitting in the middle of the room. At First look The man seemed pretty plain, but upon closer look at the man's attire and the way he sat Roy came up with some pretty decent conclusions.

"Judging from how formally dressed you are, you either don't go to Many social events or you are wealthy, probably the former though" he then looked back at the way he spoke almost monotone as if he didn't know how to express himself. "From the way your voice sounded, you probably don't have much social interaction, thus meaning you don't know how to express yourself.

He then took a look at the barley noticeable firearm at Kat's waist "and Judging from that weapon at your waist your, Cautious" Roy then gave the man one more look over before concucluding his Synopsis waiting for The man's response.

He looked at his 'partner' Roy Fox. He had a few first notions. He seemed like the generic nice guy. Kat moved his shirt up to fully reveal his sidearm for a quick moment, before covering it back up. He wanted for Roy to see that he was right in the assumption of a weapon, and he was on the point about why he had it. One couldn't be overly cautious. That's not the sense that he got from Roy.

His eyes were moving up and down his partner, etching every inch of the mans body in a little under 30 seconds. One might consider his eyes invading, considering the look on his face could be compared to that. It was a bland face, a neutral one that held no emotion. Partly because there was no reason to show emotion at the current moment. It wasn't a need. It wasn't something that was required, not to mention not something that he was good at. That, however, didn't excuse the fact that he was a hermit, and lacked any skills beyond looking someone down to see if they were good or bad.

"You're not careful. I determine that from your outfit. Unless, sir, that coat is your armor, it will only heed you in battle."

He continued to look at Roy, trying to determine if his free-spirit feeling was imposed or not. Something about it felt... odd. Kat couldn't wrap his head around the idea of a naturally, free-flowing sort of guy. That was almost always an act put on by those who were depressed. This was never something that happened. It simply didn't.

"You care about your friends; I garnered that from the aura you give off. The 'free-flowing' sort of aura."

He stopped looking and turned back to the teacher, having gathered the needed amount of social interaction for the day.