Training Room, Beacon, 7 AM.
Reginald stands in the entrance to the room, yawning. His hair is a slight mess this morning, and there are bags under the walking penis's eyes. For months now he's had to not be a total dick to every person he's met. It's been somewhat draining and he still slips up plenty of times. Today, Silica's said he'll finally learn some kind of lesson. A lesson in humility.
Just as the asshole was prepared to turn around and leave, seeing that his assistant wasn't present, a heeled kick-shove from behind made him stumble forward and fall face-first onto the floor.
"Gah! How dare you-" He begun, trying to get back up on his feet while tripping over his cape in his current groggy state.
"Shut up and listen up, you fuckin' pansy. Today you're gonna learn how to be less of a little bitch. To do this, you're gonna fight. And not with your stupid ass gun. It's either gonna be with your daggers or with your fists. You'll probably get your ass handed to you either way, so buckle the fuck up." As Silica said all this, she moved into the room, taking a seat on a nearby bench, crossing one leg over the other.
Reggie finally made it up on his two legs, blinking slowly. "...What?"
"You'll be challenging whoever comes through that door next to a fight, whether you want to our not. And lose the damn cape already. With that, the woman produced a magazine, seemingly no longer paying the slightest bit of attention to her 'master'. Meanwhile the disowned brat simply stared at the entrance, swallowing the saliva which had started to collect at the back of his throat. This was not going to be fun, was it?