Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-17970636-20140529203447/@comment-23309369-20140601221126

Morti may have been trying to mind his own business, he may have been trying to bring as little attention to himself as possible, but he was also being as observant as possible, trying to get a sense of how his temporary teammates were like. So when Stephan began to leave, Morti's eyes were immediately drawn to the tattoo on his right arm and, though he only saw it briefly, he immediately recognised it. His ehad cocked to one side as the teen moved away fromt he group. "Whitefang...." he muttered under his breath," interesting..."

He clasped his hands together and eyed the others for a brief moment. "Well I'd love ta stay an' chat," he assured them as he started off towards the combat lockers, where he thankfully had some clothes stored away," but I've got some prep to get done, I'll see ya around."

With a small wave he turned and started walking down the hall, sighing with slight relief of finally getting to actually use his weapon.

Getting to the locker room he immediately moved to his own locker, which was hard to miss due to its larger frame than those around it. Opening the locker up he quickly grabbed his combat shorts, slipping out of his work pants and into them quickly. He tore off his shirt and strapped into his armor.

Finally he looked at his weapon, Zivot was currently folded up in such a way that it was around his height and not much taller, the legs and arms set in such a way that it would fit easily into the locker.

Climbing into his locker slightly Morti placed his feet into Zivot's legs, which when activated stuck plugs into the ports on his own metal legs. He slipped his arms into the frame's guantlets as his legs shifted and changed shape, he stepped out into the room just as Zivot's arms unfolded. Experimentally he rolled his shoulders, with Zivot copying his movements, before he grabbed the large trunk-like case inside the locker, which he attached to the lower back of his frame, with his blade being sheathed just above it. Satisfied he closed his locker and turned to go, Zivot's arms folding back up as he went.