This School AU was requested by @PeridotPeri ! Thank you for the request :D
The principal coughed, and tapped the microphone to get the attention of the rambling students. The chaos eventually settled, and the principal began to speak.
"Hello, students. And welcome to the School of Cooperation and Participation, developed and structured by the Foundation's Ethics Committee. Every SCP or D-class here has been deemed too uncooperative to work with. We are here to teach you that you may be helpful and beneficial to either the Foundation, or the world, but only if you cooperate with us. We hope your experience is enjoyable."
Nobody clapped, except a girl sitting in the front, wearing a white labcoat. 'Now, why would there be a doctor here?' You wondered to yourself. Her clapping slows and stops after she realizes that nobody else is. Her head drops in embarrassment.
The chatter in the room returned, and several SCPs and D-classes stood and exited the auditorium. The girl in the labcoat, who looked to be about [REDACTED] years old, also stood. She took hold of a cart that was next to her, which appeared to have two blocks on top of it, and pushed it up the aisle. You turned towards the person next to you.
"Heh, what's her deal?" You asked, not even realizing who it was you were talking to.
"I have no business with you." A deep, sexy voice replied in the most calm, cool way possible. It really annoyed you.
"Who do you think you're talkin'-" Your eyes met the voice's eyes. You quickly realized that you were backtalking to Able, the absolute worst person (ancient immortal Sumerian warrior?) to backtalk.
Two MTFs stood behind the powerful warrior, his arms chained together with two layers of inch-thick iron-carbon alloy chains. There was an explosive collar around his neck, that if tampered with, would vaporize everything within a 10-yard diameter.
"Again, mortal, I have no business with you. Now leave."
You quickly noped the heck outta there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Timeskip to Lunch~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The slop that the Foundation called 'lunch' was loaded onto your tray. You cringed at the sight of it.
"You call this [expletive] lunch?" You eyeballed the lunch lady.
She ignored you.
You spat at her through the chain-link fence separating the staff from you and the other delinquents. The sticky spitball landed right between her eyes, and she looked up and gasped in shock. Two of the Foundation's medical staff came out of a back room, and tried to comfort the lady. They brought her into the room they came out of, where you heard them order a HIV/HEP/HERP test. You felt slightly offended. Just because you were in prison for x amount of weeks doesn't mean you have herpes. But still, you were proud of your amazing aim. One D-class behind you clapped you on the back and congratulated your shot.
You sat down at an empty table and looked closely at the graffiti scratched into the plastic. Among the profanities and private parts was a rather detailed portrait of a chubby ape wearing a vacationer's t-shirt.
You were still peering at the graffiti when a voice startled you from behind.
"Hello! Is, uh, this seat taken?"
You jumped, and looked behind you. The labcoat girl from the auditorium was standing there. She smiled and waved.
"No," you replied.
