Fantasy Clash of the Cliques: A Modern Fantasy High School RP

[CSA]

Ryuji looked, visibly confused, at the Gorgon prefect. Though of course he had no idea that she was a prefect or even what a prefect was, and was iffy of the whole 'Gorgon' thing besides.


"Who? If it sounded borin', I prolly didn't pay- fall break? It's fall break!? Bangin'!"


Ryuji grinned and adjusted his shades.


"Yeah! Man, I really should get some lunch, huh? I'm practically starvin'! Thanks, fer the advice, snake lady! Seeya 'round campus, huh?"


Ryuji put his hand in the air and set himself up for a high-five before he would go to get his lunch. He hoped they allowed extras.

 

[MechaGhoul]

With the Prefect


"Richmond. He was most likely explaining the basics as you were being dropped o-" She paused for a moment as she had an annoyed grimace on her face. Holding our her left hand she began rubbing at her temple, "Yes. It's fall break." The Gorgon gave a bemused sigh as she held her hand out for a high-five. "Now go grab yourself a meal from the cafeteria. And it is not 'snake lady', it is Sara. And you will most likely see me patrolling around the campus. So don't bring any more outbursts like that."

 

[wolfborn4]

Hiroshima felt good to have her wings out since the whole bus ride she was cramed she ignored the uninterested glances and perked her ears towards the Punk table heading something about a prank and she walked over to the guys " so what are you boys talking about? "

 

[DrBones]

Dusty eased himself into the seat laid out before him, and shrugged noncommittally.


"It's damn hard to sniff out someone's wallet when they're fresh off the bus. We're gonna have to wait until tomorrow, when their servants arrive. However, I have seen numerous weak-looking lower-classes coming off. With any luck, the 'Nerds' will get their forces bolstered, and we could make use of them."


Dusty sighed. This 'realpolitik' stuff was hard! How did those upper-classmen do it?


"For now, I suppose we'll have to wait for the new kids to settle down before we make our moves. Let our to-be allies realize just how harsh a world it is without good company."


It was at this point that Dusty realized he didn't have his lunch with him! Master Armstrong had prepared a special specifically for raising Dusty's spirits on New-Kids' Day: a relatively-clean wine bottle filled with the Armstrong Dojo's famous soup! Dusty clutched his forehead in frustration, knowing that he would have to go hungry until Rabab, his elephantine servant, got back to him. Who knows when that would be, knowing Rabab's tendency of socializing with the Prefects!


With gloom turning his voice into a deep croak, Dusty spoke to Harrington in the search for reassurance. "The poor kids aren't too bad, once you know how to walk around them. Hey, Harrington... have you ever been to the lunch line before?"

 

[CSA]

Ryuji, still grinning, gave the Gorgon a spirited high-five.


"A'ight, Sara, but I can't promise nothin'! See, my voice only goes so low, but if I see ya 'round I'll maybe try an' be the least loud I can! Maybe! An' I'm Ryuji Katsu! Don't forget my name! Don't forget me, 'cause soon I'll be number one!"


With that, Ryuji walked his delinquent walk right over to the lunch line. Man was he hungry after handling that challenge.

 

[MechaGhoul]

At the Punk Table


Casually flicking his brush through his pompadour, the man gave a cold glare towards Hiroshima. "Tch! Skeedattle, none of yer beeswax kid." At the table of the Punks, many others were having various conversations of their own.


"...Yeah, yeah, that kid." Said a Halfling woman, who had half of her pink hair shaved off from the right side of her face. She stared at the person across from her, a human girl with an ample bossom wearing a wife beater. She snorted out and giggled, "Right, gotta make sure to mess with 'em later."


The blinged out man did a few, strange hand gestures towards the Pompadoured man. These gestures included the quick manipulation of his fingers. And oddly, it appeared that they were multiple jointed, as a few of the gestures involved them going further back than should be possible for a standard human.


All the while the man with the black eyeliner kept a good focus on the girl, during the silence of the pompadoured man. As he stared at her, with his amber eyes, another eye opened up. In the middle of his forehead, a seemingly new eye emerged as it appeared to focus on her. After a brief moment he shut it, and returned it to rest. He then returned his attention back to the member of this trio of punk kids, who appeared to be the most important out of them. At the very least he initiated the conversation.


The pompadour man appeared unamused, as he returned his attention back to Hiroshima. He kicked down his feet, only to kick them back up on the desk. "Who y'work for?" inquired the man as he gave her a cold stare, waiting for an answer. As his associated signed to him, the person could be useful. As a patsy, if they were of course not already hired out.


The worst thing would be if she was a Preppy and overheard their plan. But hopefully they continued to seal themselves off from the rest of the cafeteria. But as it stood, Hiroshima could prove herself to be useful to this trio.


Possibly.


At the Preppy Table


As Dusty was speaking, the other Preppies were engaged in their own conversations. Many of whom were discussing matters of politics, with those who were of their social status of course. Others were merely dealing with their staff, making sure they were properly wiping their shoes.


Harrington held out his clawed hand as he grabbed a hold of a lobster his chef had prepared for him. With a quick and effortless gesture, he cracked the tail as it exploded with a bit of juices. Some of which splashed upon an empty plate belonging to a blonde hair girl who just glared at him. "My apologizes, my servant shall clean that up for you."


He gave a quick swivel of his head towards a withered looking crone in a three piece suit. She pulled out her own napkin and began wiping at the girl's plate. All the while she gave Harrington an indignant stare.


Harrington returned his attention to Dusty as he chuckled. Holding out his glass he waved it around, as a toady little kobold held out a bottle of some vintage and poured it in. Harrington sniffed at the blue liquid within, which contained a pine scent. He brought it up to his nostril as he took a sniff of it, and placed it back on the coaster on the table.


Idly he took a piece of lobster with one of his thirty forks, and ate it. After finishing the piece he glanced back at Dusty. "I see. Yes more Nerds would be appreciated. However, if they are anything like the dreadful people who insist upon 'revolution' " As he brought up that word, a few around him began laughing, "They will assume with more people, they have a better chance of trying to accomplish it. However, due to their natural state of obedience, hopefully we will not have that issue. And instead we will have more servants dealing with things we should not have to dirty our hands doing."


He took a drink from his glass as he gave a nod. "Quite, let them realize what life is life for those who cannot make themselves." Then Dusty spoke up about, being in the lunchline. Like a commoner. While Harrington was not one of the Older Money, he knew he could not risk his status with such a thing. Harrington stared at Dusty with a tad of fear in his eye, especially as the woman kept an indigant glare to him. Harrington spoke up a bit timidly, "W-well, of course not. I am a Man of Status." The Yeti leaned in closer to Dusty as he spoke in naught more than a hushed whisper, "I know we are New Money, so I can understand the sympathizing of the plight of the poor. But for the love of the Aristocracy please, please don't discuss this with me. For god's sakes not here with our kind."


-----------


In the Lunchline





Ryuji found himself in line with quite a few other individuals. They were all varied, much like the school. He was behind a man who was dressed in a red jacket that had a little dinosaur hood with eyes. The man appeared to be human.


All the while, the line moved in a methodical manner as a Lunchlady was handing over multiple trays. What was quite noticeable, was the fact that she had several large purple tendrils which were skillfully lifting trays, picking up cheap breaded chicken cutlets and scooping ladels of cream corn. It was all working in union as the lunch lady stared with three heads. Each of them were eying the line, making sure everything was going to plan.


Each head was dotted with twelve eyes with a red pupil each. The actual hands of the lunch lady, scaled purple claws were busy and idly motioning with a phone.


As the line moved on, and Ryuji got in place to ask for the meal he want, the head on her left peered at him. "Whaaaat do you waaaaant?" She said with an oddly deep and echoing tone.

 

[wolfborn4]

Hiroshima took a deep breath in through her nose and out her mouth then said as calmy as possible " Do not SASS me ok...and I just got here I don't work for anyone "

 

[DrBones]

Dusty snorted in derision, and gave Harrington a Look. One of the things Dusty learned sitting amongst the Preppies was how to spin a faux pas into a snide remark. The one who took offense would presumably feel ashamed for having ever thought of such a thing, and then immediately dismiss it, as was customary.


"It's not like I'm going to eat that slop. I've been on a fasting diet for two days already, and I'm not going to stop because of a mound of grease and preservatives. I was just thinking the smell of food would help me to clear my mind."


Dusty popped his knuckles and cracked his neck, in the search of a way to pass the time. Being forced to sit quietly and wait for lunch was one of Master Armstrong's worst tests. He always insisted on using a campfire to cook the soup, and he always forgot to prepare the ingredients beforehand. Of course, this did help to teach him humility and how to mask his own weakness from malnutrition, so it probably wasn't all bad. Still, Dusty was worried that Rabab would be another half-hour before he finished speaking to that Prefect.


Dusty, seeing a prime moment when Harrington's face wasn't stuffed with scintillating cooked lobster, spoke up.


"Hey, Harrington. You seem to be in top form, even though I never see you in PE. You always look so alert, and your coat always looks so... glossy. What kind of regimen are you on?"

 

[Zerohex]

Anyone who knew Reynaldo Riestra even a little bit knew that he liked to be called Rey and that mornings weren't kind to him. Even if it was closer to noon, he was always a mess when he woke up. Some figured it was his overactive training schedule, considered excessive even by some who were considering going pro, that worked him to the bone and left him perpetually exhausted. Others figured he sneaked out at night or did drugs or something, no one could sleep like he did and still be that tired. Whatever the case, he had only recently climbed out of bed.


From the Cafeteria entrance emerged Rey. Though he usually seemed a fairly intimidating guy, not to mention he was older than any other student in school, he was just not pulling it off this time around. He was, after all, walking around in a steel blue onesie with matching slippers and his hair looked like he'd just stuck his fingers in an electrical outlet. He had remembered to put on his almost everpresent aviator shades, however, which hid his eyes from the crowd. This was actually a fairly common occurrence, avoided only when Rey somehow woke up early to train.


Walking as if on a daze, he made his way to the lunch line, nodding to a few students who bade him a good morning and ignoring the few who were still amused at the sight of a 21 year old with crazy hair getting his brunch in a onesie and slippers. He stopped, however, to stare at Hiroshima in her half transformed state. "Whoooaaaaa, you're like...a birdcat girl. Cool costume, sis". Even though he'd seen many a shapeshifter, his brain just wasn't working right at the moment and he kind of forgot where he was at. He also called everyone bro or sis more often than not.

 

[wolfborn4]

Hiroshima looked to the guy who called her out and said costume her ear flicked annoyed she said " Its not a costume, I'm a Gryphon "

 

[MechaGhoul]

Punk Table


The man with a pompadour began laughing, as did his two associates when the factionless twerp said to 'not sass them'. In a rather cool fashion, the pompadour man took out his comb once more, and in his habit brushed it through his hair once more. Giving the girl a contemptuous glare he just smirked. "Y'see, jus' gonna lay this on ya. Walkin' in like yer hotshit, to people who know ya ain't just guarantees your beating is gonna be severe. Kid only reason I ain't clobberin' you now is cuz of the Prefects watchin' this place."


He glanced off towards the side, where there was a boar-headed Prefect leaned up against the wall. The pompadour man just stared back at her, "Because lemme tell ya, you're garbage. Actin' all high an' mighty when you don't even know the joint. My boys Sephiroth, " He gave a nod to the kid with the eyeliner and the third eye. "and Jimmy Wambam, have taken care of scrubs like you on a consistent basis." The punk, of this small trio, brushed his pompadour once more. "So, word of advice, crawl back into the hole you crawled out of. Y'dig?"


Wambam did a few more signs towards the pompadoured man, " 'Ey Ryker homie! Checkity, it's Pops." Ryker, peered to the side as he noticed Reynaldo. Laughing a bit, he pointed at him, "Ah the bruised up twerp who got held back like, what five years? Y'know you're in Punk territory boy. As I said to the bitch, skedaddle. Less you have anything worth my time."


Ryker was not in a good mood. Then again, to those who knew him, he tended to be in a poor mood. He returned his attention back to Sephiroth, "Supplies. Y'dig it?" The darkly dressed man gave a single nod, knowing what he would need to do.


------------


Preppy Table


Harrington chewed through another chunk of lobster, as he listened to Dusty. As Dusty brought up the insinuation, Harrington quickly shook it off and dismissed the subject. After all it was something he'd rather not continue. He was with his peers after all. Holding the chalice with the blue liquid within it, he took a quick swig as he placed it down.


Glancing at Dusty he gave a prideful nod. His grin was ever present, revealing a rather wicked collection of fangs in his maw. "Ah yes, well I couldn't possibly engage with such rabble, in Jock Territory. As for being alert, I must be, what with all the High Society I must mingle with, and make sure that a filthy pauper or peasant gets too near. As for my regiment, it is a technique honed by many Tibetans, that my ancestors took to." He smiled as he gave another chuckle. Harrington took another drink of his liquid.


"Ah." He said, clearly refreshed by the concoction as he peered back at the Kobold. "I desire crab now. Cook it for me, with much haste if you will." The toady little Kobold servant of Harrington gave a nod as he skittered towards one of the assembled cooking stations, brought in by the Preppies. After all, they couldn't eat like the savage mongrels of the lower class.


"A shame he hasn't been exiled yet-" a soft voice declared, a few paces away from Harrington and Dusty. "I suppose I will need to throw another servant at him. I can't allow such a blemish to stay here."


-----------------


Outside on School Grounds


The Prefect, Richmond, who was assigned to getting the new students in, was engaged in idle chatter with the mammoth of a man he answered a question of earlier. "...Yeah, yeah I didn't care much for the fifteenth season you know. They eliminated contestants who had far more drive and passion, and honestly had better showmanship. Hope the Khemri do a good job in their game tonight. Ah, hn." He appeared concerned, as if he knew he had his job to do.


Waving his hand dismissively he spoke up again. "Naaah, they already got their Prefects. I can afford a bit more chatter."

 

[wolfborn4]

Hiroshima scoffed " Like I care the Prefects are watching, a bunch of dress up dolls like you couldn't even touch me...and its the first day so I wouldn't want you to have a black eye tommorow Y'dig? " she moved them and turned walking away

 

[Supercomicbookgirl]

Unlike most people Aiona hadn't entered the building yet, she decided to first have a look around outside. they sure have some nice gardens She stares at a broken fountain somewhere in the back. they should really fix that When she head back towards the main building, she couldn't help but notice this old scruffy looking man, talking to a Gryphon. I have to find out what that's all about, I'm in for some amusement She entered the building, and walked the empty halls, towards the cafeteria where she sat down at the preppies table at an open seat. 'good morning, gentlemen' She signed to one of the servants to get her something to drink. 'so, what are those commoners doing now, anything interesting happen?'

 

[Xenonia]

Étouffé watched silently, as was her only way to watch, as events unfolded at the Punk table. There was some kind of rude girl, a Gryphon, antagonizing the very vicious looking outcasts and rebels. Étouffé couldn't have planned it better herself. producing an invisible straw and wadded up piece of paper, she took aim... And let loose a barrage of invisible spitballs into the well-maintained pompadour of their leader. This was sure to produce a good result.

 

[CSA]

Ryuji, his idiotic grin almost perpetual in its presence, answered the lunch lady as a boy in a metallic blue onesie passed by. Ryuji gave the dude a thumbs-up, though he had no idea who he was. It took a REAL MAN to slump around looking like he did.


"Ha, that dude looks WILD! I bet he parties like Hell. Or has an intense physical training regimen, but what's the probability of that? Maybe if I knew science, I could figure it out. Or if I knew what 'probability' meant. Whatever."





"Right, so, any chance I can get maybe a lot of everything? On the cheap? Because I've got one Hell of a HAAANKERIIINNN'!"


On this last word, Ryuji posed with his arms to his side like he was lifting some weights and his legs far apart. Ryuji appeared to be surrounded by a red hot aura of manly passion.

 

[Parsnip]

Curtis shuffled into the cafeteria, giving Petrov and the others at the jock table a small nod. He didn't usually socialize, but being a gym rat meant he came into contact with the jocks a lot, being sort of an auxiliary member of their clique despite having neither the skill nor the competitive attitude to really excel in any sports outside of, perhaps, competitive weightlifting. They were nice enough guys, with good work ethics and a strong sense of community. It helped that a number of them shared Curtis' interest in lifting heavy things and putting them down again- it made talking a little easier.


He strolled across the cafeteria and stepped into the lunch-line, taking a tray and waiting patiently for his turn. He cringed as the lunchlady fixed him with a discomforting glare. "I- uh- er- uh- umm...", he stuttered quietly as he held up his tray, "...F-five chicken cutlets, please.".

 

[MechaGhoul]

Punk Table


Ryker just paused in how idiotic this fool was. Did they think that it was a weekday or something? It was the weekend and the official start of Fall Break. But that was petty as compared to being such a blowhard that they assumed they could fight him, despite being a Factionless Nobody. Hell even if he went down, others in the clique would retaliate for such a stupid display. Sephiroth just gave Ryker that nod that, yes, they are dealing with another talkative idiot. Instead they oughta pick a fight with someone worthy of their time.


"I could go through all yo-" Ryker began as he felt something strike against the end of his well-maintained pompadour. Small slimy substances stuck onto his suave hair. Ryker gave a brief stare towards Sephiroth, who opened up his third eye and stared at him for a moment. After a brief moment of staring he shut it. Glaring at the Hiroshima, Ryker hissed out "You. Me. Outside. One O'clock." Ryker returned his comb back into his leather jacket, as he cracked both of his knuckles. "You better show yourself trash."


Jimmy Wambam cocked his head back as he looked at Reynaldo. "Pops y'bettah split. Ryker don't need take out deucetrash. Fo shizzle." He said with a nod towards his fellow Punk.


-----------


In the Lunch Line


One of the heads of the Lunchlady just focused on Ryuji, appearing annoyed. That seemingly red hot aura of dutiful manly passion, it was fairly bright. And it got into her eyes and it was a tad annoying. Deftly manipulating one of her tendrils, she scooped up a ladle of lumpy mashed potatoes, dropped a single chicken cutlet, and scooped up some cream corn and put it onto a standard plastic tray, with a single plastic spork. "Here." She barked out towards Ryuji and handed over the tray.


The next person in line, Curtis made a request. She focused her eyes onto the larger boy, and proceeded to serve him his meal. Of course, being one of the far larger jocks, that kid needed the five chicken cutlets. So she did the same thing as before, quickly using her tendrils to provide the lad his nutrition. "Don't drop it." She noted towards Curtis.


-------------------


Entertainer's Table


A spry looking sprite was snorting out milk from her nostrils, as she managed to catch some events unfold. That job against that one punk was quite the humorous stunt. So humorous in fact, that she forgot to flap her wings a few times and fell into the milk jug with a loud splash.


The man who was sitting near the drink, a Satyr giggled as he placed his index finger in the jug. The sprite proceeded to climb up his finger, and gave a quick nod. "Oh, oh jeez that was a good one. Whoever did that- aha! OH."


-------------------


Preppy Table


A diminutive looking gremlin, who was dressed in a black sweater-vest stared at Aionna annoyed. He was carving into some cooked lamb with a gilded fork as he responded in a rather brisk and bored manner. "Commoners are subject not worthy of thought." Many others around him gave nods, knowing that usually, the peasants were a matter that didn't need to be addressed.


Harrington took another drink from his chalice as he idly tapped his left fingers upon the table. It was a misfortune that his meal was taking this long. He was a tad peckish still, and did hope his chef would finish it soon.

 

[DrBones]

Dusty nodded. "Do you mind if I join you on one of your sessions? My dad always said that the quickest way to better yourself is to do what other people are doing. If it's alright with you, I think I'd really benefit from a day working out with you, you know?"


When Aiona sat down at the table and started talking, the first thing that came to Dusty's mind was suspicion, followed by derision. His nose curled up and his features twisted into a look of exaggerated disgust.


"Really, Aiona? 'So what are those commoners doing now'? Pffshaw, that's the most stereotypical thing I've ever heard! Aiona, you really need to hire a speech trainer or something, because all your talk's making you sound like a low-class thug pretending to be a part of civilized society."


Dusty heard that goblin girl from before giggling lightly at his comment. He hadn't ever actually gotten to know her, but she always tended to laugh at other peoples' mockery. All this mockery and discussion had managed to put Dusty's mind off going hungry. He didn't even care that he'd have to make do with a large dinner at the mansion or a bite of horse jerky!


Dusty, realizing that ignoring someone who had spoken to him was viciously rude, turned to face the voice that had addressed him and Harrington. He hoped it was someone he knew, rather than one of the gawking wannabes that often attempted to find a place at the table. Dusty had fought hard to get this space, and seeing a random upper-middle-class mook think they deserved what he earned was infuriating.

 

[MechaGhoul]

At the Preppies Table


Harrington finished up the drink in his chalice as he smiled at Dusty. He gave a nod, "I shall allow for such a thing. It gets rather tedious training without some men of status to discuss with."


Dusty was easily to identify the voice of the vicious yet eloquently soft voice. It belonged to one Charlotte Winchester. She was an Elf with a rather pale complexion, with rather long luscious light brown hair. Her nails were painted a dark purple, and had specs of silver within it. Currently she was dressed in an evening dress, with specs of gold gilded onto it.


Dusty did in fact recognize the girl, and as she had overheard in much socializing, she belonged to the Old Rich, but only slightly. As such, she was of a noticeable status, but not as high as many of the more dignified peers. Though of course, from more scandalous matters of discussion, the noble family line had a less dignified branch. But what was more important, was that Charlotte had an issue she needed resolved. As many knew, the matter gnawed at her mind, keeping her demeanor on the edge and fairly moody. If she didn't solve it through her servants and money, the ones who managed to solver her issue would be rewarded as a hero deserved.


The elf peered back at him, "New Rich." She bluntly said with a hint of disdain, towards the man. Idly she placed her hand against her cheek, "Do you have any business to attend with me?"


The goblin girl, who was giggling from the earlier remark glanced towards Aionna, "You haven't been spending time with the paupers have you? Oh, for that would be a tragedy." She cut once more into her veal. "Ah but the best comedies have that hint of tragedy." She delved her fork into the veal as she placed the chunk into her mouth. As she ate, the pink juices overflowed as a bit stained on her lips which were covered with yellow lipstick.


She gestured towards one of her servants, another more diminutive golem as it proceeded to wipe at her mouth with a monogrammed handkerchief. "Have you really not been socializing with actual peers to not have an actual matter to discuss, such as practicing ballroom dancing? Or do you simply not know how, or forgot how, to act with civilized beings?"

 

[CSA]

Ryuji suddenly discontinued shouting and posing and emanating an aura when the lunch lady handed him a tray. He received it, and looked down at the portions; disappointed. This school obviously wasn't going to go easy on him.


On the other hand, the big guy behind him got five damn cutlets. Ryuji's jaw dropped in amazement.


"Whoa, big dude! How'dja get five whole cutlets there? Is it some secret password or somethin'? Can I get in on it!?" he asked Curtis excitedly, "Because damn I'm hungry!"

 

[TheFlyingWriter]

Amie shuffled into the cafeteria and was almost turned to stone. So much commotion was happening, and the half-fairy had absolutely no idea what to do or where to go or who to talk to. (Not that she was actually going to talk to anyone.) When she finally snapped out of her coma-like trance, she lowered her head, and, placing one hand on the left side of her face in an attempt to block out her view, tried to make her way to the lunch line.


A rather loud yell frightened her, and she jumped, a spark of orange magic shooting into the air. Amie tensed and tried to move away quickly before anyone saw. She really did not want to get noticed on her first day. Or any, in fact.

 

[MechaGhoul]

At the Nerd Table


"Err... did my fireball spell hit?" A rather porty looking Hobgoblin who was covered in acne, and wearing a pair of rather thick glasses inquired. Peering above a plain note-book that was set up to guide various papers, a rail-thin snake-man poked his eyeballs just above to stare at his associate. "No. The direboar is still alive. And it is going for a charge attack!"


Waggling his snake-tail in excitement, he tossed his blue dice onto the table and watched them roll. The Hobgoblin was sweating nervously as he wiped at his brow. Two imps sat ontop of a stack of notes as they peered in closely waiting for the results. "Uh, you're not gonna like the result of this..."


Meanwhile, at another section of the Nerd Table, a man who was wearing a cheap wool coat was holding onto a comic made in Mongolia. He snorted as he pulled out his inhaler and took a deep breath in. "...We all know how strong the power level is." His associate, who sat across from him stroked at his peach-fuzz as he shook his head. "It wasn't canon remember." The nerd flipped idly through his comic book as he stared at his friend and gave an annoyed groan. "It is canon."


"Uuuuugh." An Orcish girl who had a rather noticeable set of braces had her head slumped on the table as she stared across the table eying the Jocks. "...Why can't those cute boys ever go for one of us instead of those 'normal' ones?" She gave another melancholic sigh as she opened up a can of cola and gave a depressed slurp from it.


"Damn it!" Decried an agitated kid who was busy playing on his hand held gaming system. "IT WAS SHINY AND IT GOT AWAY!" He gave out a disgruntled huff.


Lunch Line


Well most of the students were involved in their own things and activities. So Amie had nothing to fear as she was able to successfully enter the mostly finished lunch line. Though a bit of that orange magic drew some slight attention, but it was disregarded just as quickly as it was noticed. The line proceeded to move on as usual.


Though in the actual section, students were giving the boy Ryuji a few glares. Less so were given to Curtis, but still they were given. As they were still holding up the lunch line. But the assorted students simply wanted to get their lunches and move on quickly, so they could hang out with their assorted friends and the like.


The Lunch Lady's middle head focused six of her eyes on Ryuji, and six of her eyes on Curtis.

 

[DrBones]

Dusty stared incredulously at Charlotte Windchester, in mock surprise.


"Miss Windchester, I'm surprised that you're insinuating I was the one who started this conversation. Your quite frankly rude remark that one of us deserves to be exiled caught my attention, and I was merely responding to it. Would you be so kind as to tell us who you think is deserving of a swift boot into the gutters?


Dusty's agape mouth closed into a thin smile. His stare softened, but seemed to intensify at the same time.


"Or, rather, are you asking for help disposing of someone? Is there something you need, Miss Windchester, that you do not want to ask of your servants? By all means, I have all the time in the world to devote to your issues. After all, it seems I am the go-to for information and surveillance today. Don't keep me waiting, miss. Please, I'm all ears!"


Dusty didn't quite understand why he was being so hostile. Perhaps it was the hunger worming its way into his hindbrain and forcing him to lash out like a starving dog. Perhaps it was the fact that he saw Charlotte Windchester like a normal person would see a chimpanzee crawling in ants: irritable and determined to share its problems with the rest of the world. Perhaps it was because Dusty wanted a reason to leave the cafeteria as soon as possible, so that he wouldn't have to suffer the feculent aroma of exquisitely-cooked foods anymore. Whatever the reason, Dusty was snapping at poor Charlotte, and expected her response with bated breath.

 

[Boomrocker]

"Calm down, man," came the mild drawl from behind the pompadour-ed Ryker. "That bitch ain't nothin', yo."


The wiry looking fellow in the stained overalls with the racing badges all over them stepped around the rest of his punk brethern and sat down in a free chair in the central group. He had plenty of recent grease stains on his face, and around his eyes. Once again he'd dispensed with the eye protection, it seemed.


All in all, Steve didn't look much like a punk. But they were his bros and they fought for the same reasons.


"Factionless crap like her ain't no problem," he murmured quietly to the gang. "What she goin' do? Cry? Hah, gimme a taser, fifty feet a' rope, a barrel o' tar, bit'a gold cardboard and two bags o' chicken feathers and I'll fix 'er up. Make it look like a dumbass jock hazing ritual, yo," Steve explained, with one of his patented Instant Solutions. "But y'all know we got more shit going. When're we headed out?" he asked, referring to their trip to the dealer.

 

[Zerohex]

Rey scratched his head, somehow managing to twist his hair into an entirely new and unrelated shape almost reminiscent of anime hairstyles, except anime hairstyles did not look that messy, and absentmindedly nodded at Hiroshima as she walked away, muttering a little "Okay, uhuh, griffin it is". He figured, still not quite there, that the girl was one of those...whatchacallem...otherkin? Them peeps that wanted to be something by all lights they were not? Eh, more power to them. He turned to nod at the punk, scratching his stubbled chin with a grating noise.


"Ey man, first of all it was just 3 years in the slammer okay? Jeez. Also, it's too early to be this upset, you're gonna have stomach problems if you're so tense during breakfast". And with that, he was off to get his food. "Can't believe everyone wants to fight so bad, no one wants a martial arts club. What's wrong with these people" he grumbled as he took his place in the food line, when he noticed some guy he didn't know was giving him a thumbs up. Well, at least it wasn't some grumpy asshole so Rey shot Ryuji a smile and gave him a thumbs up of his own.


"Ey man, never seen you around, like the place? Anyway, you n' Curtis", he gestured towards the mountain of a kid he knew from being lumped together as jocks with his head, "better hurry, y'all are holding up the line bros. I'd love to get some breakfast, need my morning coffee".