Claudius Bennett
The name’s Bennett, Claudius Bennett. I am an esteemed member of the “popular sect” at Phillips Exeter Academy. I can calculate the rates of both h’ and hoes’ primes, and don’t take DNE for an answer. My hair may be luscious and mighty fly, but don’t let that fool you, I’m definitely the nice guy. However, I’m a gangster, so finishing last is a thing of the past. Just like me, my red suspenders hold strong under pressure and don’t give way to outside threats (my math teacher). My bow tie is elegant, yet casual, pristine, yet clean, and certainly gives me extra aura points. If you mess with me, you will hear from my mommy (she’s a Dean).
Cumblood Darkwing:
Why? Why am I what I am? No, it can’t be, but I am… nothing? Death. The dark. My Chemical Romance. What are these things? They are me. Who am I? I am… aura. I am the mysterious figure you see wandering the Exeter campus. I am the figure, looming, that watches over my fellow Exonians. They look upon me with green eyes, envying my enigma. The males wish they had the power I exude and that I would exude my power in them. But I cannot, for a true Fall Out Boy must keep his aura to himself… for Exeter’s coolest, most alluring agent of the night must remain intact. So who am I? I… am… Cumblood Darkwing.
Mary Smith-San:
H-hey… s-sorry I’m a bit nervous… derp UWU. *Rubs back of head cutely*. Gomen, gomen! I can be a bit of a baka sometimes! I guess I should introduce myself… my name is Mary Smith-san, and I’m what you normies might call… Exeter’s “it girl.” When I show my UWU to those silly boys they go cray cray… ganbere ganbere, bakas! Oi oi… what do you mean you don’t believe me? Grrrrrr… you don’t wanna make me show my dark side… sorry! I almost let my sharingan out… I guess it might surprise you that a kawaii smol bean like me has a dark side, eh?
Mike Hunt:
What’s poppin y’all, I’m Mike Hunt. On campus, I patrol the mean streets of Exeter as a public servant. In my free time, I enjoy auditioning for Duck Dynasty, combing my sweet mullet, and knocking out anything that moves. Exeter has seen a heinous amount of petty crime this year, and it’s my job to fix it. Deans tell me to “go to class” but I prefer securing the premises of our disgusting facilities. I’ve never been good in school, some things are just more important. I spend at least four hours a day polishing my bayonet, so I’ve never been to a Saturday class. After scraping my knee en route to our impoverished downtown, my mom told me that I’m probably the toughest swole-dier on campus, and honestly, I believe it. Women flock to my leather jacket, known for its musk. I’m a part of the upper echelon at Exeter: the lone wolves. No one inside the circle speaks about it, but everyone desires to be us. The few, the proud. Once a wolf, always a wolf.
