It only made sense for the art classes to be in the College of Kinesis and ESP. So many students practicing this concentration had powers which gave them unique senses which had never before been experienced by another human. Although, from one perspective, this gave them a fascinating individuality which held them apart from the rest (often labeling them as easy picks for sponsors who want the most unique and memorable hero out there), on the other side of the same coin, there was usually quite a bit of loneliness. Sometimes it helped if they could visually share the lens through which they saw the world so that others could more easily connect. It had helped Erik; art was one of the only things in this world that kept him sane. Plus, the location was convenient for him since he taught a few other classes in this department, including one which was scheduled just before this art class.

He ended up being two minutes late, but he wasn't going to apologize for prioritizing getting a bite to eat over being perfectly punctual. When he was hungry, he got careless, and no one wanted that.

He strode into the art room with a scarf, hat, and shades to conceal his most identifiable features. He looked more like a hipster than the nihilistic goth he pretended to be when the cameras were rolling. "Alright," he began with a tone that demanded attention, "I've been made aware that some technopath has been tampering with the email system so it's unlikely that all -- if any -- of you received the email you were supposed to get for this class," he walked across the room and sat on the top of one of the unoccupied front tables, "That's fine, it just means today's going to be ninety-five percent free time for you and five percent talking with me one on one. But before we get to that, for those who haven't checked their class schedules recently, my name's Erik Blackwood; you can call me Professor Blackwood, Erik, or "captain my captain". Whatever you feel most comfortable with. For the past decade or so, I've been working as a villain actor. Note the "actor" part of the job title; most of what some of you think you know about me are fabricated rumors, so feel free to ask questions when I talk to each of you individually."

And now for the big reveal...

"Most of you likely know me by my "criminal" alias: Spooky," he finally said as he lifted away his glasses with one hand, revealing his sharp, onyx eyes. In his previous class, a few of the students had jumped up to apprehend him (or something silly along those lines), but he thought he had done a considerably better job preparing them this time around.

Some of the students were giving him uncertain looks. Although... he could have sworn that some of them had their gaze glued to the wall behind him. He turned his head to the side to give it a quick glance, but, as he expected, he didn't know for sure what it was they were staring at. It could have been the blood on the wall, the mutating shadows, the spiders scurrying along the ceiling... There really wasn't any way for him to know what was real and what wasn't. When his eyes turned back to the class, they instinctively fell on a red haired student bathed in light. It wasn't that he suspected her of anything, but, in his vision, she stuck out like a sore thumb, naturally drawing his gaze. She was staring back at him rather intently, so their eyes met for a moment before he began to let his eyes scan over the rest of the students as he resumed speaking. "You can use this time to work on your first project if you'd like. Make a drawing which you think expresses your power. If you don't have a power, or if you have one and just don't think it suits you, draw an aspect of yourself which makes you unique from the rest of the people in this room. The only rule is that you're not allowed to draw yourself in the picture. We'll start critiquing them at the end of the next class."

After a pause, he stood up and picked up a folder from his desk, looking at the top paper inside. "First up is Ms Aldrin. We'll just go alphabetically from there." Taking two chairs, he relocated to the hallway outside of the classroom where, one by one, he spoke to each of the students. It was clear that some of them were absolutely terrified of him, while others seemed to restrain their fears in favor of curiosity. A few students asked significantly more questions than the rest, causing it to near the end of class by the time he had gotten around to the last few students. Finally, he asked the second to last student to go get the final one.

"Ah, so you're Viola. Please, sit down," he invited. His thin eyebrows furrowed slightly. He didn't understand this one. "I don't mean for this to get overwhelmingly personal, but do you get stage fright? I didn't really peg you as the type who doesn't like attention."