((*facepalms self* Gah, I'm so stupid! Sorry!))
Tally's stomach, rumbling fiercely, called her to the mess hall for yet another appetizing meal--appetizing, that is, if your tastebuds had been chemically burned off your tongue. However, what Tally needed was not so much "flavor" as "fullness", and so she heaved herself up off of the cot, put on her smart-looking cap over her blonde hair, and strode toward the mess hall. Yes, she looked the part of a stereotypical "dumb blonde". Yes, everyone--students and faculty alike--underestimated her. No, no one ever came out ahead if they ever crossed her. They found themselves expelled--usually.
These days, who knew? Tally surveyed the cadets as they chowed down.
Good group, she thought. Maybe I'll take my cap off, hide it in my jacket or something, and pretend I'm just an administrative assistant. None of the first-years know who I am, anyway, or what I can do. Easy, right?