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

Steve shrugged. "Sounds good enough. I'll try not t' let everyone go nuts while y' doin' y' thing, know what I'm sayin'?" he offered. It wouldn't be the first time he had to wrangle a group of violently independent people who's only shared ideals were dressing in black and going after authority. Last time involved the two-wrench nunchaku. Fun days.


Then he heard the gunshot. Then he heard the scream. He whirled, on the lookout for trouble.


"Itchin' powder?" he asked rhetorically, on high alert. "They goin' need a shower, a loofah, a large towel, a washing machine an' a vacuum cleaner t' sort that out!" he pointed out automatically as his hand tightened around his toolbox. From his experience, itching powder bags don't just explode. "Also I think we got trouble, yo." Ah yes. Everything that wasn't the Fixer power tended to come in second to the solution being generated for a problem.


The toolbox was a wonderful thing. Many saw it as just tools. To Steven Diggs, it was an arsenal.


He scanned, looking, watching, but couldn't see... anything, really. If there was trouble, it was too far away. But he had this nagging feeling in his head, like something was... something was different.


"Did, did I just roll dice in m'head?"


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Curtis watched the two tryhards file out of the cafeteria with the rest of the students, Hiroshima refusing to even acknowledge his existence. What a bitch. Shrugging, he lumbered over to the table and took up a position at one of the tarp supports. He nodded to Petrov in silent understanding, and the troll handed him one of the dry, tasteless nominally-chicken-based slabs of food product arranged on Curtis' tray. Curtis took it with one gloved hand, quietly gnawing at the cutlet as the water tricked down his back. Was it Tuesday already?
 
At the Jock Table


Petrov glanced around as the 'Tuesday Tent' was being unfurled this very Saturday. Slightly off, but nothing unusual. Besides, you had to eat your protein if you wanted to grow. And Petrov very much wished for the muscles of his compatriot to grow. The Cyclops reached over as he gave a friendly jab towards Ryuji's shoulder. "That's the spirit! Yo you guys up for a bit of a training and exercising after finishing up the grub here?"


Many of the Jocks around gave a boisterous cheer of approval. After all, training was a way and an important step of life. If they wished to crush their foes in the great applications of the power of the body and undying spirit, they needed to keep training to stay on top.


Scene of the Exchange


"IIIIIIIIIIIIITCHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING POOOOOOOOOOWDEEEEEEER! CRAAAAAAAAAWLIIIIIIIIIIIIIING IN MY SKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!" Shrieked out the goon again, in a rather shrill voice. It appeared that the itching powder was taking its toll on the poor soul. The goon was on the ground frantically scratching at himself, in the fetal position. He was overcome by a fit of tremors due to the quality of the powder. Even Maxy, The Short Ass Punk Ass Punk, was taking it better. Maxy, and he didn't take many things well at all.


Well he wasn't taking this well either. He was running around in circles as he was rubbing at his eyes. Maxy, in this recently induced stupor, failed to realize that, if anything he made the situation worse. Maxy was blind to the whole ordeal as he went around, running like a chicken without its head. As for Woody, he rolled towards the tree he collected it from the first place.


In Ent tradition, he tried scraping his back, against the tree to get some relief. That relief would not come. No, it was a vain attempt, but it did not stop Woody from trying to get a sense of freedom from the foul substance.


So, of course none noticed the incoming Mime, Etouffe. Truly these three were just so pitiful, especially the goon. Upon closer inspection, it looked as if he may have wet himself. But no matter, these three were truly easy targets now, for about near anything.


From up in the sky, a harpy prefect was flapping her wings. She needed to find what caused the bag to explode, the magic bullet. And that was where she noticed the grassy knoll, and something suspicious looking. Then again, she hated grassy knolls and everything they stood for. The Prefect quickly swooped down towards the scene.


Ryker the Beautiful and Crew


"Oi. Would be swell mate." Ryker said with a smirk, as Steve volunteered to do guard services at the gig. "As long as the Mosh is rough, but not enough to trash the place until AFTER the gig, should be cool y'dig?" He pulled out his comb as he brushed at his magnificent pompadour.


And then the sound of a BB Rifle was heard. And a lot of shrill screaming. Ryker frowned a bit, as he snapped his fingers together. "Fuck! If only I had my recording equipment. That scream was sick." Lacey quickly took the opportunity, to move much closer towards Ryker due to the gunshot. "Yeah, I mean, you oughta know a good scream, what with your gigs and all." Lacey inquired as she tried to get a bit of dialogue in with him, and desperately trying to keep the eyes from showing the intensive longing. All the while Sephiroth glanced at Ryker nervously as he fidgeted.


Ryker just stared at Lacey for a moment. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Groupies dig the gigs, and their screams of joy are music to my ears." He brushed through his pompadour once more, as Lacey licked at her lips. He pointed his comb at Steve, "Yo Steve! Guess Jay-T didn't want to chat up with ya. Bummer, mind keeping her company? Gotta chat with Sephiroth."


Sephiroth breathed a sigh of relief when Ryker focused back onto him.


"Oh shit." the boy spoke. "Prefects are gonna probably swarm the area sooner or later. Can't let them cramp our style. Ryker-Bro, I'll stay back here and keep a watch out for anything." Sephiroth reached into his pocket as he pulled out a two-way pager.


Ryker curled his left hand up as he smacked against it against his chest and gave the V for Victory sign towards Sephiroth. "Good man." Fortunately for Maya, the punk did not seem to notice her at all. But he was now setting himself up to keep watch. Casually he peered back at Lacey and Steve as he gave them the, 'come on' hand gesture of calling them forward, as he continued to lead them onwards.


He kept silent for a bit, though one of the remarks Steve made seemed important to address "Dice in head? Huh, weird. Shame I didn't bring my guitar, sound like you may need a bit of a non-conforming rockin'."
 
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"Yeah, just..." Steve shook his head rapidly, trying to clear that weird, weird thought from his mind. "It's nothin'. I'm good man. I'm good."


Dice? In his head? That was ridiculous. He pushed it aside, turned around, and moved on.


"Y'know me man, I got a type," Steve said, finally acknowledging Ryker's comment about Jay-T. To be perfectly honest, Jay-T wasn't Steve's type. Neither was Lacey, for that matter, but he didn't mind having either of them around. Lacey kept behaving a bit weird though. "But yeah, let's keep going. Them brake calipers ain't gonna pick up themselves, y'know."
 
Siegfried saw that playing the race card didn't work, so he made the best puss in boots face and did the only thing he could... Tell the truth, sort of " a criminal... its close but No, not a criminal a CRIME ! Ever since my birth i've been condemned to life of misery, my mother died delivering me I haven't seen her not even a photo, my father and I were on the run for couple of years until he was shot, dead seen no more... But he told me to live free so I did my best until I was caught by an evil slaver, he put me to fight for my life in illegal fighting arenas, Three years I was beating and getting beat just so that by the end of the day I could eat leftovers that the rats wouldn't even touch, I escaped I had to steal some clothes to hide my face, I joined a delivery service, ha, I.. I made up a story about my face being disfigured so I wouldn't have to take them off, but on one of my runs my covers fell and I was caught, when I was on trial a kind hearted man heard my story and believed I am innocent, he hired me a good lawyer and took my story to the media, he gave me an opportunity to prove, To prove that not all cheetah kin are monsters and gave me a chance to come and study here, but now here you accuse me of a crime that I didn't do, I mean what fool would try to destroy his own chance of freedom the freedom he longed for his whole life, the freedom his whole clan wished for, the FREEDOM that they couldn't achieve just cause of some past mistakes, go ahead report me IM sure they will do their best to implicate me even without having any real evidence, maybe if im lucky they'll give me life in prison and not the chair... Do what you must." he was done talking he relaxed his body closing his eyes looking down as if he lost faith, as if he gave up.
 
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Rey put down his plastic cutlery and took a deep breath, like someone trying to relax or think really hard or getting ready for some strenuous activity. He could feel life returning to his body, snatched from the dark recesses of slumber. It was amazing just how much trouble he had waking up. He shook his head as the jocks began to cheer for training. "Eh, don't feel like it right now". It was stuff like this that made his position in the clique rather tenuous despite his obvious athletic bent. "It's a nice day, the new kids are out and about, I'mma see what's happenin".


And with that, he stood up and walked off, apparently not caring about being soaked to the bone. "Oh yeah". He turned mid-step and stood right under a water spray, feet wide apart and his left hand at his hip while his right pointed straight at Ryuji. "To be the man you gotta beat the man, bro! And I might not be the man right now but I sure as hell will be, so we're gonna have ourselves a little match someday! Look forward to it!". He probably would've looked pretty cool had he not been, y'know, walking around in a onesie and slippers. And challenging a teen to a fight.


Having said his piece, he calmly walked off once more. The few jocks familiar with his habits knew he was gonna head to the can, then shower and get dressed, so he might be gone for a while. Who knew what the crap he'd do after that, his flights of fancy could be fairly unpredictable.
 
Étouffé sure wasn't going to stick around for the authorities to arrive. Mouthing the words 'SIC SEMPER TYRANNUS', Étouffé made a break for it. Coming upon the path that she saw the punks taking earlier, Étouffé had a brilliant idea. Quickly spiking her hair up into a Mime-y Mohawk, she undid one of her Overall straps. If they turned around now... She hoped it would be enough to blend in as a punk. Otherwise she'd have to rely on other skills than disguise.
 
"O-oh. That poor girl." Yumi stammered, placing a hand over her chest. She understood how hard it was having no friends. Of course, Yumi could get along well with people, even if she was always too busy for any sort of long term relationship. For someone healthy like Aiona to have no friends, she must have really lacked any form of social adeptness.


"Hello~" the kitsune greeted the siren, walking forth. "You seemed down, but don't worry- Yumi Koizawa is here to cheer you up!"


Yumi winked as she said the line, giving Aiona a finger bang.


@Supercomicbookgirl
 
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Aiona looked up from her book when a very soft sweet voice calls out to her.


She inspected the fox girl carefully, the innocent aura she gave off, caused her to stay calm.


The book she laid down next to her, and she stood up facing the girl, looking her straight in the eye, and saying.


'Hello, what's your name, and who send you?'


Her parents always made it very clear that she should always be cautions when it comes to strangers, she didn't trust a lot of people, almost no one actually.


She always had her guard up no matter what.


Tho she knew that girl would definitely mean her no harm, she mostly just wants to know who this girl was, and why she wanted to talk to her.
 
The lights dimmed slightly and Ryuji moved from under the tarp so that the water from the sprinkler washed over him. He stared seriously at his new rival as they were both assaulted by the sprinkling of the life-giving, fire-extinguishing liquid.


"Heh," Ryuji chuckled, his serious expression turning into a wide grin, "I'm lookin' forward to it, bro! I'm gonna train hard and get to the top fast so we can have our match soon!"


As the man calmly walked off, Ryuji trembled in excitement before sitting back down again.


"Ain't been this excited in a long damn time! I got me a rival! I really can't snub training now!"


Ryuji dug vigorously into his lunch. The sooner he was done eating, the sooner he could begin training! As well as earning allies throughout the school who would cheer him on and remind him of who he was and why he was fighting in the final battle.
 
"Nobody sent me. I came because I wanted to." Yumi said, tilting her head.


"You seemed really lonely, so I decided to intervene. After all, nobody wants to just be alone forever. It would get really depressing, like... like looking out a hospital window for weeks on end." she explained, closing her eyes and nodding with an affirming smile. Her tail swished back and forth, until she brought it around into her hands- a comfort method she'd developed, since she enjoyed its softness. But more importantly, it was a lure.


@Supercomicbookgirl
 
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Sephirot the Vampiric Bouncer, Wielder of the Blood Katana stood in the middle of the path, scanning the zone for unwanted presences.


That included her.


She would have to be extra careful to sneak past him. Maya really didn't want to check if Sephirot lived to his name. Perhaps it was only one of those edgy names the punks liked so much, perhaps he DID have a Blood Katana. Luckily for the nerd, she was always ready for combat, but it would be best if she avoided being seen crushing the kid by a Prefect.


Carefully, she tried to follow the path of bushes past the punk, being as stealthy as possible. Better safe than sorry.


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Ryker the Beautiful and Crew


"Y'sure?" Ryker peered at Steve curiously, as he again casually took out his comb. It took work to maintain his sexy and most beautiful pompadour; and Ryker knew he needed to brush it again. So again, he brushed through his hair. "Aight bro." Ryker said with a nod, as he stashed back his comb in his jacket.


Lacey on the other hand, took a moment to look at Steve in trying to access the matter. Ryker continued onward, as Lacey stopped in her preliminary observations.


As they continued onwards, they crew past the greenhouse dome and went further towards the outskirts. Ryker gave a nod to Steve as they continued walking, "Right, everyone's got their type. Myself, I appreciate the finer things. The ones that have been proven and have been tested out."


That comment secured a quick smile from Lacey. "It is good to test out to confirm results." She noted, which earned a satisfied laugh from Ryker. "Jus' how I roll." He then recalled what Steve said just a bit ago, "Ah yeah! Brake calibers were the last parts you needed?" He gave a nod. "He'll have them."


And so, they approached the outskirts, the domain of the Dealer. In the distance, there were a two small buildings, reminiscent of a shantytown that were just on the right and left side of a worn-pick up. It was a Dodge Ram that had seen much better days; but it did withstand the test of time. Wafting from this place was the smell of cheap beer; the intensive smell of barley and hops infested the nose of the group. But they were not there just yet, no, they had something to deal with first.


There were two Oni Guards which stood at eight feet, who stood both stood guard. Both were a dark shade of blue and were wearing a set of wolf leather armors, and each held a large stone club. Ryker just gave a nod to the two of them. The Oni on the Left spoke up, "Ryker-" only to have his sentence finished by the one on the right, "-The Beautiful, welcome back."


Ryker smirked as he did a flashy pointing gesture at the two of them, "They're with me." They nodded in approval, as Ryker led them into the makeshift holdings of the Dealer.


"Yo! We're here! Can y'dig it?" Ryker spoke up, making sure he caught the Dealer's attention. Ryker immediately cocked his head to glance back at Lacey and Steve, "Remember to act cool." For the Dealer was going to emerge.


And he had the brake calipers. Probably.


Outside Campus - Handling the Scene


The Swampman listened as the cheetah man was trying to pull pathos upon the Swampman. As the discussion was going on, the Prefect found himself drawn to thinking about other things. Such as birds. He hoped the snowy weather wouldn't impact their flight too much, as he did like the fact that they were around. He did a little bird-whistle, and waited a few moments. As the speech went on, a small bird flew towards the Swampman.


Tweeting with joy, the Swampman's face seemed happier. Then again, it was hard to judge facial features on a swamp man. The Prefect whistled a bit more, as the bird flew off, towards the garbage can where Siegfried disposed of the Preppy's wallet. And so the Swampman was back to listening to what Siegfried was trying to do. Establish pity for a criminal who wandered onto a campus full of students who would be endangered? And endanger one of them by stealing their wallet?


After Siegfried finished, the Swampman took a few moments to process what he had come across. Perhaps, just perhaps this sentiment of sadness touched his heart.


That wasn't the case. Glancing down at Siegfried the Swampman spoke up. "DON'T CARE. CRIME DONE. YOU'RE IN BIG TROUBLE! BIG TROUBLE! WE GO TO ADMINISTRATIVE OFFICE! THIS WILL BE DEALT WITH!"


And so the Swampman began marching from the back area of the school, and headed back towards the Administration Office, with the culprit in tow.


And what of our three intrepid heroes that were covered in itching powder? They heard the loud shrill cry of the Harpy Prefect. "YOOOOOOOOOUUUUUU!" All three made a defeatist moan, as the Harpy slammed her talons on the ground below, waving her wings to make sure she kept a stable landing.


Sephiroth on Guard Duty - The Vampiric Bouncer, He Who Wields the Blood Katana



As he promised to Ryker; Sephiroth planned to keep out anyone who tried to get unwanted access to the private gig that was going to go down with 'The Dealer'. It was his duty to his fellow punks, to make sure they were kept free of any nuisances. And Sephiroth enjoyed fulfilling these sorts of tasks. This was going to be a simple task, for he was quite suited to deducing the actions of the parasites who wished to interrupt and sneak into places where they didn't belong. And no one, was going to have the proper backstage path for this gig. So he was going to have fun.


Flicking out his tongue, Sephiroth licked at his elongated fangs."Oh if only this was night, hidden by the New Moon." Sephiroth waned on as he tapped on his right temple. His eyes immediately flickered with activity as the irises flashed a blood red. "...Oh but it is naught but a simple morning. Oh if only this were a night, enshrouded by a dark mist, with lightning crackling in the distance. And the haunted castle echoed with life once more, as I beg-"


The Punk narrowed his eyes as he finally decided to address the most obvious trespasser. A Mime. Just, a mime was there.


Sephiroth held up his right index finger claw - also a shade of blood red- and he wagged it in front of her, "A tut, tut, tut." Sephiroth shook his head as he bared a fanged grin at the girl. "There's no backstage access tonight. You should go on and play somewhere else. If you seek an audience with Ryker, wait with all the other groupies. I'm sure you will find them."


Waving his left hand in a bon voyage fashion, he glanced where he noticed rustling bushes earlier.


[dice]6751[/dice]


Maya was indeed stealthily. She was ghost-like in her methods. But, Sephiroth had the sharper method. His eyes were superior to Maya's sneakiness. Sephiroth approached Maya as he bared out his teeth. Casually he licked at his currently extended claws. "As for you. Eheheheheh... You were trying to be sneaky. Unlike the madam over there." He casually cocked his head to glance back at Etouffe. "Her intentions were, how do I put this kindly? Far more honest than yours, Nerd."


Shaking his head, Sephiroth gave a quick shrug of his shoulders and extended up his palms. "But, we are on the same page. We both know what will happen." The Vampiric Bouncer licked at his right claws once more. "Shame it isn't Friday Night. Are you prepared to dance with the devil in the pale moonlight?"
 
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"As for you. Eheheheheh..."


Fuck.


Luckily for Maya, she was still in school grounds. How dangerous could a regular teenager goon be? She had faced worse, much worse. But then again, nobody had managed to spot her like that until now. Perhaps she lowered her guard? Such an error would have been fatal in the real world.


The nerd got up from between the bushes, her face staring dead serious at Sephirot. It would have been intimidating, if it wasn't for the fact that she was a weakly nerd covered in sticks and thorns. Or that's what it seemed.


With a soft movement, Maya picked up a leaf from her hair and threw it to the ground. With another movement, she grabbed the left side of her skirt, and pulled it up just enough to still cover her knees. From under the robes, a heavy sledgehammer fell to the grass with a muffled thump.


Pacesetter in overdrive mode; Maya's veins were now visibly marked under her skin. Adrenal Booster activated; she could feel her muscles tensing in response to the sudden rush of adrenaline in her bloodstream. Kerenzikov at full power; time seemed to pass even slower than before. Her body was ready.


The nerd grabbed the sledgehammer with her left hand and slowly pulled it up until it met her right hand. Her grimace now showed a vicious grin, much different from her inexpressive face from just a few seconds before.


"Roll for INIT, motherfucker".


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The Battle Begins


Snickering Sephiroth watched as Maya got up, and prepared herself for battle. As she drew out the sledgehammer, he grinned ear from ear as he licked at his extended claws. Oh he was going to have fun with this one. "Oh my pretty little claws will tear you asunder, and -" Sephiroth stopped himself in his waxing. As he remembered the rules of engagement.


"Oh right, INIT." Sephiroth shook his head, as he prepared for the battle ahead.


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INIT - 18


And as he was preparing, he noticed something far more important than preparing for battle. There was a scratch on one of his claws. "Noooooooooo!~ My delicate and beautiful tools of war! No, that can't be an actual scratch! Ah hold on! HOLD ON! CAN'T WE WAIT BEFORE STARTING!?" This of course, distracted him from preparing as much as he could.


As Sephiroth calmed himself, he spoke up once more. "Ladies first. Still I shall enjoy using my pretty little claws upon you. A far more elegant weapon than the one you are using."


Sephiroth noted with a bit of disdain. She was using a sledgehammer after all, and it while it was quite practical, it lacked the mystique that the claws had. At least that's what Sephiroth thought of the matter.
 
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Maya approached the punk slowly, the sledgehammer now being dragged across the pavement. Luckily for her, she was not the only one who had underestimated her opponent, which would give her a slight edge in combat.


The sledgehammer lifted itself in the air, flying at high velocities towards the punk's head. This fight was going to end rather quickly, leaving behind but a puddle of brains, bones and blood.


The nerd felt slightly bad for the janitor. He was a good man.


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(Correction: 12 REF + 10 Melee - 1 WA - 4 Targeting Head + 4 LUCK + 2 Dice = 23 TOTAL)
 
The Battle Rages On


"Oh dear." Sephiroth noted as a frown crept up on his face. "My sweet nails." He couldn't help but think about it. As the Vampiric Bouncer, he had an image to keep up. He needed to look his absolute best when fighting against foes. And his wolvers had some scratches on them! It was an absolute nightmare! How was he supposed to explain this? Just regular wear and tear?


That would speak out against his sense of taste and mystique! They would expect him to take care of it. And now this brutish little girl, who really could use a makeover, Sephiroth noted, was trying to slam the sledgehammer at his head. That couldn't stand.


However, his trenchcoat could take a beating. So Sephiroth made sure to try to manipulation so the blow would not his head, but rather against the resiliency of his fashionable outfit.


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Pomf.


The Sledgehammer impacted the punk's arm instead of his head, making a very loud muffled noise instead of the pleasant sound of a skull being blown to bits.


This was being harder than usual. How could it be? Could a simple punk be proving this much of a challenge? That made absolutely no sense. He was just a teenager (and so was she, but whatever), how could he be so good at this? Not even trained bodyguards offered this much resistance.


It was time to change her strategy. Hoping no prefect would notice, Maya slid a sharp, translucent black knife down her sleeve, and swiftly grabbed it with the intention of wielding it against the punk.


Taking advantage of his dazzling caused by the scratch in his oh, so precious nails, Maya tried to slid the knife down the punk's body. Perhaps this could give her a small edge during the combat.


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(Correction: 25 - 3 Second Action = 22 TOTAL)


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Steven stepped into the tent, somehow containing his eagerness. Calipers! Not even the idea of a Ryker gig or floozies that looked like his beloved brunette bombshell could distract him from what he was feeling right now. Soon! Soon his baby would be complete! Then he would be the king of everything ever. After all, no one would dare challenge a man be...


His train of thought was interrupted by some strange sounds. Sounds of... was that Sephiroth? They were too far away to tell, but it didn't sound like he was going overboard on a My Chemical Romance song or something. It sounded like he was... asking someone to wait. That was distressing. A loud Sephiroth was a worrying Sephiroth.


"You hearin' somethin'?" Steve asked idly. "'Cause I got a funny feelin' about shit goin' down, y'know."
 
Siegfried was done talking as he thought to himself, "this damn idiot wasn't even listening, the goddamn devil would shed a tear hearing this tale." and he heard the swampman say that he is taking him to the administration, so out of anger he shouted "Finally you stupid Hund, take me to someone with a brain and not swamp ooze!." he figured once he gets there he will explain himself calmly and they really have nothing on him, if worst to come, he'll pay off the man in charge, i mean i'm pretty sure they could use a new school ward, or maybe something more fitting for Siegfried, how about a new track field. well there is no guarantee it would come to it, maybe the Dean, principal or what ever they have here, what ever he is maybe that prick will have a brain.
 
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Étouffé let out another entirely silent sigh as the fight began. She wasn't sure what this talk of initiative and fumbles, armour rating... Any of it, really, meant. She didn't want to fight, not if it meant doing all of that nerd shit. So instead, she opted for a much easier solution: Undoing her other overall strap, she used the most basic power she had in her whole arsenal: Being a post-pubescent female. Truly, it was a genius plan that could definitely not fail in any way or form.
 
Outside on Campus


"DON'T WORRY LITTLE CRIMINAL SCUM. YOU WILL BE BACK IN PRISON CELL QUICKLY." The Swampman declared. It appeared that the cat man really wanted to go back to prison. Who was he to deny him his return to such a place. In the distance a bird was flying, carrying a suspiciously familiar wallet, following the Swampman as he went back towards the building.


He quickly stepped inside the administration building. It was a fairly simple place, fairly clean hallways, mundane looking walls and the such. With the Cat-man still in his grip he trudged into the office.


Standing still, the Swampman peered at the Receptionist, a bespectacled woman, with brunette hair wrapped in a bun who was dressed in business casual wears. In her ears were ear-buds to some sort of Walkman, and on her desk was a CD for the band Crime Unadulterated. She was idly tapping on the desk, probably to the beat of the music she was listening to.


"HELLO. I CAUGHT A TRESPASSER AND THIEF, AND ESCAPED CRIMINAL WHO IS MOST DEFINITELY VIOLATING PAROLE!" The Swampman spoke quickly. The Receptionist pulled out the ear-bud in her left ear, as she blew a bubblegum bubble.


Pop. "Uuugh, sure he isn't just homeless like the last one you got?" She inquired. The Swampman nodded, "YES." She spat the chewed up gum into the personal trash-can near her desk.


"Right, well guess I'll be dialing up the authorities for this then." And so the receptionist reached at her desk-phone and began dialing up.


Back at the Jock Table


Well it appeared that the sprinkler system finally turned off. Rey left in order to deal with his essentials, a most important task. Possibly more important than continued training; but not nearly as glamorous as continued training. The Cyclops glanced at Ryuji as he chuckled out, "Ah, least ya got fighting spirit. Still you're gonna need a lot of training. More than just wolfing down meals."


He stretched out his arms behind his head and reached upwards. "Hell, you up for a sparring match kid?"


Dealer's Tent


Ryker raised an eyebrow at Steve. "Huh? Jus' keep your mind off it y'dig, ain't good to stress too much." He pulled out his comb as he casually brushed it through his hair. Lacey wrapped her arms underneath her chest as she smirked, "I hope the guy has a kegger somewhere. God it'd be good to have some brew."


The inside of the tent was covered in wolf fur, much like the outside structure of the tent. Just entering it, there was a rug made from a bright orange phoenix. Which was a surprising feat of ingenuity since they always tried to pull the 'return from the ashes' or 'become fully ash' trick.There was a small makeshift desk made of various scrap metals that were quickly assembled together in one lump. And just behind that was a 'treasure chest' which was assembled from an old tool-box kit, and right next to it a small cooler.


A rat squeaked. Shortly after that squeak, there was the sound of a lound thwomping, followed by a couple of cracking noises. "Whooowieee! Got me a varment!" From underneath the desk, popped up the head of a curious looking individual.


From underneath his shaggy and ill-kept black hair were two elven points. Much like his Elven kin, he had an effeminate quality to him. He smelled heavily of cheap beer and faint traces of other nasty odors. The boy was dressed in an over-sized camouflage coat which had wolf fur trimmings inside, and on the hood had a wolf-head that had bits of pink fur. His grey t-shirt was rather stained, some of the stains clearly were settled in, alongside newer ones. He was also wearing jean-shorts, and underneath a pair of brown panty-house. He smirked at Ryker, "Ryker ya Sexy Beast! Ah see ya brought a few othas, ain't the usual ones though." Ryker just gave the elf a nod as he brushed through his pompadour once more.


Casually the Elf wiped his nose, and extended out the hand that he just wiped towards Steve. "I see ya been workan on somethin' special!" He then glanced towards Ryker, and then towards Lacey. "Missy if'n yer thirsty fer a brew, gotta the mos' freedom-fueled fuel ya'll evah getcha hands on!" The Elf looked back towards the Cooler.


The Elf glanced back at Steve once more. "Shoot, oughta fully introduce muhself! I'm Dakota Billy-Ray Winchester the III. But most folk jus' call me the Dealer."


Battle Continues On:


Sephiroth pondered for a moment on the strangeness on how this battle was going. Rounds were weird. "Hold o-" He was going to ask a question, but he noticed that the girl was pulling out something. But also that the mime, "Helloooo well if only sh-" He glanced back at Maya. "NO WAY YOU ARE GOING AFTER MY BEAUTIFUL NAILS!"


And as such, the man tried to block it by kicking his legs up to parry it.


[dice]6778[/dice]


But fate was cruel...


[dice]6779[/dice]


As Sephiroth only managed to get some of his scuffed up claws caught in the fabric. "NO! FUCK! I JUST WANTED MY TURN! FUCK ROUNDS! FUCK IT! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! MY BEAUTIFUL NAILS!" Sephiroth was freaking out at the fact that this was going on, and that his arm and hand were going to be in danger. And in front of a mime woman with a lovely shale of pale skin no less!


She was probably already noticing the condition of his claws and becoming truly disappointed by the fact they weren't pristine!
 
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Finally some one Siegfried can talk to, some one with intellect... maybe? "HEY PUT THE PHONE DOWN, im not homeless and i am definitely not a criminal, im a transfer from Germany sent by the German High Court, you must have heard something about it, i just strolled in here asked a guy how i get to the administration and he pointed me to this, this... this idiot who accused me of a crime, and he keeps talking about putting me back in jail, i never even been in jail." he finally sighed in relief, there was no way she didn't know who Siegfried was, "For crying out loud, Tell this Arschloch to put me down."
 
"Aight," Steve responded. Sephiroth could handle himself... unless someone damaged his nails, of course. Concern for the kid could wait. Right now, it was brake caliper time.


And this Dealer, well, it looked like he represented everything beautiful about his home country. The accent, the smell of PBR, hell, the only thing that made him think twice were the pansy-ass stockings, but hey, elf. Elves were always girly. Even the men. Especially the men. But setting that aside, Steve had the funniest feeling that he was going to like this guy.


"Ay man, Steven Diggs," he said, wiping down a greasy hand on his jumpsuit then holding it out for the traditional greeting of their people. "This 'ere's Lacey. Yeah, got a big-ass project on th'way an' th'calipers are the last thing I need y'know? Got me a big ol' pile o' traditional American muscle happenin', y'dig?"
 
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It wasn't... Working? Étouffé looked confused for a moment, then shrugged. If the guard was distracted... Not bothering to fix her clothing situation, Étouffé strolled by the horrid fight scene that was taking place. If a blowhard like this was willing to put up with a bunch of weird magical rule shit to protect something... It must've been a big deal. Étouffé licked her lips and rubbed her hands together, making her way towards the dealer's tent. It was probably something very interesting indeed.
 

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