Utopia | School Gang RP | OPEN | IC | SIGN-UPS |

[Arana]

Saint Moses Church, Tripoli, Michigan
November 30, 2008

"Yeah... yeah, he was."

A hell of a lot better than he was, in fact. Daniel had always been trying to get Christian to stop being involved with the Europas, and yet he still ran around with them beating up Leviathans and Zeros and selling weed on street corners. Meanwhile, when he wasn't working, Daniel would be off volunteering somewhere, at church, or doing homework.

"If anybody asks, I'm not here."

With the other boy gone, Christian sat down, leaning against the casket. Resting his head against it, he reached into his shirt and pulled out a photo he'd kept with him for much of the last year. It was of the two of them on their first date, after they'd been kicked out of a pizza place downtown. Looking at it before had always made him smile, but now it just made him think of all of the things they'd planned to do. They had been planning on graduating high school as valedictorian and salutatorian, and after that going to some school in New England, probably Northeastern (if they could afford it) or UConn. Then they'd live there, get married (something not legal in Michigan), and all the other things high school couples say they're going to do, but probably won't end up doing. But it was still nice to think about.

"Brought you this Danny, just in case you can bring stuff up there with you."

Taking one last look at the picture, he opened the lid of the casket just enough to slip it inside, without having to look at the body. That being done, he leaned back up against the casket and prayed silently, something he didn't usually do. His aunt would be there in a few minutes to pick him up, but for the time being, he was satisfied, alone in the room with Daniel.

Stammers Regional High School, Tripoli, Michigan
September 6, 2010

Christian grinned and tossed Tyson an orange one. He liked being addressed as 'sir'... it made it seem like he was actually in a position of authority, instead of just the head of a gang of teenagers. Which, coincidentally, was exactly what he was trying to accomplish. Since he took over, the Leviathans had already become more organized, and were finally starting to be an actual threat to the other gangs. But they weren't strong enough yet. To change that, he had a lot of ideas for reorganizing the gang's structure, but first he'd need to firmly establish himself as leader.

As class began, Christian went into the room and sat in a seat up front, like he always did. Since coming to Tripoli, he'd gained a reputation as a bit of a teacher's pet, an image that he didn't bother to try and avoid. After all, getting in on teachers' good sides not only benefited his chances of ever escaping from Stammers, but it also gave him some sway over them, and helped out the rest of the gang. When Christian sat, the other Leviathans in the class gravitated towards him, for the most part sitting behind him, less exposed to the teacher's view. The teacher's pet sitting up front drew the teacher's attention away from the actions of the people sitting around him, making them seem better by comparison. As everyone else started saying their names, Christian raised his hand and did the same.

"Christian LaChapelle."

With his hand up, Christian discreetly used his other hand to drop several slips of paper onto the floor, which were then picked up by the Leviathan behind him and passed around.

Pass this note to the next person you see.

Party Tonight at 8:30 PM, at Leviathan HQ, 532 Industry Road

All invited. No fighting, no weapons. BYOB.

The party had multiple purposes, the most obvious being a chance to have some fun and maybe get drunk. Less obvious purposes included a chance to recruit new members, to trick people into thinking that that location was the new Leviathan HQ (in fact, it was just a warehouse; the Leviathan leadership met at Christian's house, while the rest met at elsewhere), to approach the Zeros with the possibility of an alliance, to gauge the strength of the other gangs, and to put one of the plans he and his lieutenants had come up with into motion. Also to get high.

Hopefully, the party would draw enough of a crowd, especially Europas. Provided that they, or anyone else for that matter, didn't try to do anything stupid, the more that showed up, the better.

[Breitenfeld-Sibbesborg]

Johanna listened as all of the students said their names out loud to the teacher. For some reason, she figured that the blonde girl, Noortje, and the boy in the front, Christian, did not get along. It was clear to Johanna that Christian was involved in a gang, and likely in some sort of leadership role. The way that several of the students flocked around him gave that away. As she sat quietly, trying to be as invisible as possible, she was handed a small slip of paper. She unfolded it, reading what was written on the slip.

Pass this note to the next person you see.

Party Tonight at 8:30 PM, at Leviathan HQ, 532 Industry Road

All invited. No fighting, no weapons. BYOB.

Johanna wasn't sure what to do about the address on the slip of paper, so she passed the note along to the next student. On the top-right corner of her notebook, she wrote down the details she had seen on the paper, but she had no intent to go to the party. She knew that the Leviathans were a gang, so she was extremely nervous about what might happen at the party if she did go. For some reason, she felt like she wanted to go, even though it went against everything she believed in.

[Themiclesia]

English Class

As nobody evidently wanted to have a word with him, Thomas ambled into the classroom, which while he entered was not yet filled with boastful, pernicious children of a fallen age. Thomas wasn't self-righteous by any stretch of mind, but he could not help but feel an air of superiority when he turned up in class in clothing usually regarded as normal: a blue oxford shirt, grey trousers, and a vest. He elected to sit down in the shadow of a tree that grew outside of the window; in this spot Thomas found sufficient sunlight to compensate for the dilapidated infrastructure for writing, but also sufficient shade that his eyesight wouldn't be compromised. Mark, the Secretary of Clubs, sat down to his right, in the shade of the same tree. Mark nodded to acknowledge Thomas, who reciprocated this gesture. The two hadn't been in contact for weeks, and this nod was only preliminary to a slew of other conversations to come.

He opened his sack, which contained a few pieces of paper, a case for writing implements, and a laptop. Thomas preferred to use a laptop when it was handy, but not while it caused alienation. Mark also uses a laptop. The sleek Mac Book Pro made a statement unparalleled in the classroom, which paled in technology and aesthetics whilst the silvery laptop shone and basked in the sunlight.

"New laptop, eh?" Thomas asked of his fellow executive. "Very nice. Fancy seeing their faces when they realize that you have bought another."

Mark grimaced at this remark, which he could not but agree, only could not say that he agreed.

"Meh. The old one, the 2009 one, was... shall we say, fell into a river."

"Yes," Thomas quipped, "fell into a river after you cast it out of your broken window, I presume."

"Presume as you like. The Executive Committee needs to be postponed today, it seems everybody has a full schedule. After school would be desirable."

Thomas was the President of the committee, and as such had the obligation to call the daily meetings at a location of his choosing. He also had the obligation of preparing the meeting's agenda, which are nominally composed of the urgent business of the Club, but in reality it was a privilege that lent him some power over the proceedings of the Executive Committee. Mark was the Secretary of Clubs, which is now as much a memorial of earlier, happier, more plentiful times as a sinecure. The Exchequer Club is the only extant social club in Stammers Regional; all the other clubs have collapsed, so Mark's job is to forge alliances with nobody. The Club served an unusual function in Stammers, since the incompetent school board couldn't forage sufficient funding to hire qualified instructors for the students, let alone entertain them. The school almost relied on the club for any semblance of activity other than the mundane.

The other pupils gradually filed into the lecture hall, gazing into its walls sullied with years of abuse then neglect, and the roof, which was in an eminently sorry and perilous state, in immediate danger of collapse. Thomas suspected that the school should already have been condemned, but somehow the condemnation notice never appeared in the gazette, perhaps in sympathy of a school's administration that had no recourse other than this building that had no fire safety measures, no security measures, no technology, and less kindness than none.

Thomas eyed the leader of the Europa. She was an attractive young lady, and fairly intelligent too. Thomas could have fallen in love with her, if only she had been a normal human being, which she is not according to Thomas' standards. Her golden hair refracted the brilliance of the sunlight, temporarily embarrassing Thomas, who had elected to sit in this place specially to avoid the direct rays of the sun. Her eyes, however, Thomas didn't care for, not that Thomas had an particular preference for eye colour. If anything, he couldn't fathom the fascination with blue eyes, it made a person look supremely shallow and simple; compounded with blondness, it only redoubled that negative impression. There are even people who will judge others according to these superficial features, who are lunatics to Thomas. Thomas was no scientist, but he understood some basic principles about genetics. Features such as skin, hair, and eye colours are not heritable; parents' features do influence the likelihood of the outcome in children, but that's merely an influence, not a determination. Nevertheless, all these features were determined before birth, yet the cultivation of personality begins after birth; that others could associate personality and some "innate quality" to such genetically random dispositions that occurred and concluded before personality, to which these alleged "innate qualities" belong properly, manifestly is erroneous. And despite the extensive research, the scientific community is firmly backing Thomas' view, and the views of the Executive Committee.

Retracting his gaze from the direction of the prowling female, he focused on the matter at hand. As it was revealed to him, they are to welcome a new English teacher today to replace the bumbling idiot who professed ungrammatical statements and grotesquely misspellings as a regular part of the curriculum. The incumbent soon emerged from the portal, dressed in a suit of light blue and bowtie, with polka dots.

Now that's a courageous statement, hopefully made by a courageous person, Thomas inwardly thought.

His newfound confidence in the instructor was not to last; as soon as the latter spoke, it could be said that he barely spoke. His cluttered speech reverberated in the classroom, thoroughly undeceiving Thomas of his fantasy of having a good English teacher for his final year. The instructor began the class with a rather pathetic and unenviable attempt at introducing himself, as a Mr. Kennedy. His grin, however, was remarkably wide, and Thomas silently congratulated him for that.

Good morning, Mr. Kennedy, Thomas spoke to himself, and I wish you every luck in your tenure at Stammers Regional.

As the row-call wound around the class in a serpentine fashion, Thomas tried to recall the persons behind the names that are now pronounced by their owners. A few familiar appellations fetched their associated tags in Thomas' mind, but also a number of new people have enrolled. That was good news, as newcomers are more likely to join the Club.

"Thomas Cardew, no relation with Cecily Cardew, by the way," Thomas said nonchalantly, also testing the English teacher's background with a reference to a character in Oscar Wilde's most famous work, The Importance of Being Earnest. He nodded to the teacher, whose eyes flashed to him for a split second.

"No," he replied, "not... not nearly... old enough."

A few, more imposing figures scurried through the doorway. For some reason, this school represented the international community better than Mayfair in London. Peoples of all origins are all present.

In the corner of Thomas' eye, a few white particles dropped onto the floor, ostensibly by Christian. Thomas wondered about the contents of the little notes, but he had no doubt that he would be informed of their contents by the grapevine by luncheon. He has faith in the extensiveness of the Club to know virtually everything that goes on in the other fraternities of Stammers High. Thomas refrained from intriguing in the business of the gangs; that was no place for him. His business was to steer the Club clear of the gangs, not into them.

As the English teacher turned to his main agendum, which is, surprisingly, keeping order rather than teaching, Thomas turned his thoughts to the speech that he will be giving at the first gathering of the Club in the new semester, which is scheduled to happen today. It's a regular luncheon gathering, but, being the first in the semester, it begins with prayer. Now, at one point most club members were unequivocally religious, but currently the same assumption cannot be made. So, in his draft for the prayer, he made no mention of any divinities to whose power he appeals while praying. It's a rather simple task, but very fulfilling; starting the semester on the right note means a lot to the Club.

And, for the good of the world, let us pray.

We pray that compassion and empathy may increase in this troubled world, so that the confused may return to the path of wisdom, that the poor be fed and clothed, that the wicked be pardoned and delivered to the loving care of the world, and the righteous be exemplified and rewarded for their virtue. Amen.

We pray that peace and prosperity may come upon this turbulent world, so that the nations of the world may again return to co-operation to share this our only Earth, and so that the impoverished may be led to wealth, in substance and in spirit. Amen.

We pray that all the nations and their leaders may come to appreciate each other, and especially for our friends in the Middle East, troubled by tyranny and misgovernment, neglect and oppression, for Israel and Palestine, entangled in ancient and modern controversy, that an agreeable solution may come to them in the near future, for our friends in Haiti, suffering in the wake of the terrible earthquake, for our friends in Iceland, in the shadow of the volcanic eruption, and for everyone in need of aid and assistance. Amen.

This he scribbled down onto a sheet of paper.

[Nachfolgia]

Viorica stood next to Noortje as the situation between them and the Leviathans reached a boiling point. She may not have shown it, but she was very irritated with the comments they were making. What made her very angry was when the Frenchman mentioned stealing drugs from them. As an enforcer, Viorica was put in charge of handling that drug den. She had 6 Europas under her and the Leviathans still managed to take the drugs, beating the shit out of her men in the process. They were lucky she was off doing an errand or they wouldn't have had it easy. Regardless, that drug raid set the Europas back and Viorica and Noortje weren't happy about it.

Before the conversation turned into a bloodbath, the teacher, a nervous wreck named Mr. Kennedy told the class to take their seats. Following Noortje, Viorica took her seat next to the Europa leader. Viorica Waited until it was time to call out her name. " Viorica Celibidache." She said coldly with her arms crossed over her chest.

Noortje looked over at Viorica, who was a very loyal member of the Europas. Noortje was willing to look past Viorica's failure to protect the drugs simply because of Viorica's deadly efficiency in her other roles within the gang. After Viorica introduced herself to the teacher, Noortje thought of how she would make her next request to Viorica. "Viorica, you are an important member of this family, and I know that you are loyal. This means a lot to me." She paused for a moment, forming the next sentence in her head. "I want you to go around to the rest of the gang to make them gather tonight. We will meet in the large field behind the school. Tell them to prepare for anything, because the Leviathans may see it as a chance to cause mischief."

Viorica leaned over and looked at Noortje as she talk. She was pleased that the leader was giving her a second chance after her failure to protect the drug den. Viorica was determined to carry out her next assignment with efficiency and without failure. It shouldn't be too difficult to rally the gang, but she was prepared for anything. Though it wouldn't be wise to go one on one against the Black Widow, it'll just end very badly. " Don't worry leader, I won't fail this time. If any of the other gangs try to cause trouble for us...they'll be in for a surprise." Viorica said with a sinister glare, envisioning all the horrible things she's going to do to the other gang. She then leaned back into her seat and semi listened to the teacher.

[The Emerald Dragon]

Brett slowly cleared his lungs, before standing from the table he was at, the soft smell of 'Lynx' shower gel radiating from his clothing; he had an announcement to make... a big one. After a few seconds he began to speak in a soft tone, that implied he found the whole topic to be joke which had been blown far out of proportion - after thinking of his lines and steadying his nerves he spoke.

"Hello, teacher. You never asked for my name, but that is understandable - given the events of a month ago. You see, my name is Kim Soo Ju and I've been carving a sharp career path out here in Stammers - doing good deeds, like eating noodles and doing my homework on time. I really like to be a cut above the rest in everything I do - even if the events of a month ago left me rather... heartless. Like all Zeroes, I'm interesting in slicing and dicing. Of course, being a Zero isn't a good career choice as it leaves feeling like you've been emotionally or physically stabbed in the heart."

Brett finished with a polite smile, having completed a pisstake that would probably require him to find a gang... and money, soon enough.

[Skegness-on-Pirn]

Viorica leaned over and looked at Noortje as she talk. She was pleased that the leader was giving her a second chance after her failure to protect the drug den. Viorica was determined to carry out her next assignment with efficiency and without failure. It shouldn't be too difficult to rally the gang, but she was prepared for anything. Though it wouldn't be wise to go one on one against the Black Widow, it'll just end very badly. " Don't worry leader, I won't fail this time. If any of the other gangs try to cause trouble for us...they'll be in for a surprise." Viorica said with a sinister glare, envisioning all the horrible things she's going to do to the other gang. She then leaned back into her seat and semi listened to the teacher.

Noortje was pleased with Viorica's drive, but she knew that the Romanian had failed in a big way. This fact did make Noortje slightly hesitant to allow her to do anything much more important than inviting people to the gathering in the field that night. It was to be at 8:00 PM, so the other Europas would all be available, more or less. She picked up one of Christian LaChappelle's notes from the ground, reading it with a stern look on her face. She looked back to Viorica, "Make sure that none of our people attend this party. Doing so will mean quite a lot of anger from me." She then looked towards the back of the room, spotting a blonde girl she hadn't seen before. The girl had introduced herself as Johanna Ahlström, which had immediately interested Noortje. "Also, Viorica, make sure that girl is at the gathering."

[Kamunista]

The alarm went off in Murray's ear breaking through his blissful sleep. Ray's hand shot out from underneath the sheets and smacked the alarm clock hitting the "snooze" button. Rolling over Murray closed his eyes intent on getting in a few more minutes of sleep, he lay there with his eyes closed but it was of no avail, he was awake and his body was ready to start the day, even if Ray's brain was still groggy with sleep. Kicking the sheets off of himself Ray rolled out of his bed, standing up he opened the door to his room and made his way down the hallway into the small kitchenette. Once there Murray poured himself a bowl of his favorite cereal, Coca Puffs, he then topped the Puffs off with a generous helping of milk. Letting the milk soak into the cereal for a minute Ray thought about his first day of school, it would probably just as challenging as the year before, not to mention he had to keep his grades up to get into a decent college so he doesn't stuck dealing drugs on a street corner in Stammers for the rest of his life. With the milk soaked into the cereal Murray consumed it hastily without any further thoughts towards school and the upcoming year ahead.

Finishing his breakfast Ray placed the empty bowl in the sink and left the kitchenette, before heading to his room to get dressed he stuck his head into his Mother's room just to make sure she had made it home last night. She had, she was passed out on her bed with several empty bottles of various liquors lying next to her. Murray sighed and shut the door softly as so not to disturb his Mother's drunken slumbers. Proceeding to his room Ray dressed himself in his clothes, baggy cargo shorts, a t-shirt, and a pair of clean socks. Exiting his room he grabbed his backpack which was laying on his bedroom floor. Entering the front room of his mother's small house Murray put on his shoes and chocolate brown hoodie and was ready for his first day of school.

Leaving the house Murray locked the door behind him, the neighborhood was quiet save for the chirping of birds and the occasional car that went past. It was still rather early and Murray enjoyed the half-mile walk to school each day and absorbed the fresh warm air . Reaching the school with plenty of time to spare he entered the building through the the double doors that served for a main entrance, and headed to the auditorium where the principal would make his customary "First day of school speech." Entering the auditorium, which despite his high ceiling did little to disperse the late summer heat, plus with all the collective body heat made the auditorium rather warm. Walking up a set of stairs Murray saw a fellow member of the Leviathan's, Tyson Victors, Murray nodded to Tyson but did not speak to him and continued his way up to the last set of bleachers. Sitting down by himself Murray looked around for his friends, but they appeared not to be in the auditorium.

The principal made his speech touching on how shitty the school was these days, how the Zero's leader was brutally executed, Murray didn't really pay attention, he rarely payed attention to anything the principal had to say, in Ray's humble opinion the principal just liked to hear himself talk. The crowd of rowdy Highschooler's were dismissed with a whole lot of booing and complaining about an extra class or something to that effect. Exiting the auditorium Murray followed in the wake of a group of Senior's, like himself, although they had a different class then Ray. The other highschoolers stopped at the door of their class and almost immediately seemed to start to argue, Murray lingered watching the leader of his gang talk smack to some Europa's, not wanting to be involved with anything on his first day of school though Murray continued to his first class of the day, which was math class. Arriving at the classroom Murray was one of the first people in the room besides a couple of other girls that seemed content to chat amongst themselves, taking a seat on the opposite side of the room from the girls Ray watched the teacher prepare her first lesson of the day.

The math teacher was a woman, young, possibly mid-thirties, although Murray wasn't really good with guessing ages, the teacher had curly brown shoulder-length hair and a round, smiling face that seemed to radiate kindness, she was was wearing a knee-length yellow dress. As it came time for the first class of the day to begin she turned to the class; which had filled up with more students since Murray had arrived. When she spoke her voice was smooth and friendly and flowed with kind of a Southern drawl kind of like honey, "Hello class," she paused and looked around at the faces of her class, "I am Miss Marilyn," she paused again to write her name on the board, "I am your math teacher for the year, let's get to know each other a little before we dive into or first lesson of math," she pointed to the front left side of the classroom, "Let's start with the young lady over the there."

The school day began like that with everyone reciting their names to the teacher and the teacher would then write down the student's names on the chalkboard.

[Elerian]

Miles Petraukas, Mr. Kennedy's Classroom

As Miles sat down he noted with astonishment that in the short time he'd been with the Europas he had already risen in status simply because of his stature. It was comforting that they would readily accept him, yet also troubling because that could mean that they gave their trust a little too easily. Miles had no intentions of betraying his new comrades, but even still . . .

He gave a bland smile to his leader, as if he would rather be anywhere but in school. "Cześć, Noortje" he said before he caught his Polish slipping through. His face flushed with color as he apologized with a thick accent "sorry, learning English has been hard, but yes I am, I'm thinking it will be a good year for me and the Europas." He didn't have much else to say, he didn't know much about Noortje, and had only ever talked to her a handful of times. Yet, even in those few conversations he could tell that they regarded him as an important weapon in their arsenal.

He quickly scanned the class to see who would be sharing it with them for the remainder of the year. It was a mish mash of gangsters and all manner of other individuals with their own agenda. If anything was to happen, it would likely be here, and from the looks of things the teacher wouldn't be much help if a brawl started. He mentally gave himself a pat on the back for the choice of seat he'd taken. From where he was he could easily keep an eye on Noortje, Viorica, and if need be, Effy. The three of them weren't weak, but with the number of rival gang members in the class, it was probably a good thing he was here.

He looked back at Noortje who had turned back to talk to Viorica. It was an awkward way to start the morning, and Miles hoped they wouldn't all be like this, but only time would tell. Miles leaned back in his chair and opened up a notebook as he waited for the actual teaching to begin.

[Ontorisa]

Kennedy's Class, Stammers Regional High School
8:11 AM
Tyson Victors

"Tyson." Victors responded to Kennedy's stuttering question, annoyed by the way Kennedy spoke.

He then was tapped on the back by a relatively attractive girl and was handed a small piece of paper. Opening the paper while winking at the girl, Victors read it. A party at the "HQ", Victors read it mockingly to himself as he looked back up and in the direction of LaChapelle, nodding to himself.

Taking in the details of himself and the surrounding area, Victors realize he was wearing a black Chicago Blackhawks t-shirt, with the logo of the team in the centre with no other words, with the number 88 with the name Kane above it. Victors, he was a hockey fan, and would definitely love to play one day, despite the other "influences" and "distractions" that surrounded his daily life. Every night, he reminded himself to work on his hand-eye coordination, in hopes of one day, well, he would leave this life somehow and play hockey for a living. That was pure fantasy, unlikely to ever happen. But hey, a guy can dream right?

"Yo teach," Victors called out, almost rudely at Kennedy as the English teacher turned slowly, almost scared to talk to Victors. "Mind if I use the can for a sec?"

"S-Sure." Kennedy motioned to the door and responded quickly before shying away again. "C-Class, w-we'll start with t-t-the a r-r-reading of S-Shakespeare's t-t-the Tempest."

Victors paid him no attention as he got up and deliberately walked in front of LaChapelle and with his hand behind his back, flicked his index and ring fingers up, the Leviathan signal for Meet Me or Follow Me. It had been originally designed by Powers, to be able to communicate quickly with other members without the use of language so that language barriers could be crossed. As well, it had been a mandatory part of the initiation process.

Exiting the room, Victors noticed two Asian kids standing near the lockers. Nodding to them respectfully, Victors continued on his way before he heard some shuffling.

"Hey Leviathan!" One of the Asians shouted to Victors as he spun around. "You keep your fucking head up, huh? Just because the Europas murdered our leader doesn't mean you shit dirtbag thieves can steal our shit."

"Don't count on it buddy," Victors retorted harshly. "We can probably find better quality shit from a generic Stammers dumpster."

Wheeling around, Victors continued on his way as he resisted the urge to start a fight.

[Arana]

Stammers Regional High School, Tripoli, Michigan
8:14 AM, September 6, 2010

Tyson had picked a terrible time to need to meet. Between classes was great, or even a bit of the way through them, but right at the start? He was only lucky that it was The Tempest, and not one that Christian liked better, such as King Lear or Romeo and Juliet. Whispering to the student behind him to take notes for him, he raised his hand a few minutes after Tyson had left and asked to be excused, albeit in a more respectful way than Tyson had. As soon as he had permission, he got up and followed the other Leviathan, giving the finger to the two Zeros by the lockers.

"Interrupting class, eh? This better be important."

[Skegness-on-Pirn]

Miles Petraukas, Mr. Kennedy's Classroom

As Miles sat down he noted with astonishment that in the short time he'd been with the Europas he had already risen in status simply because of his stature. It was comforting that they would readily accept him, yet also troubling because that could mean that they gave their trust a little too easily. Miles had no intentions of betraying his new comrades, but even still . . .

He gave a bland smile to his leader, as if he would rather be anywhere but in school. "Cześć, Noortje" he said before he caught his Polish slipping through. His face flushed with color as he apologized with a thick accent "sorry, learning English has been hard, but yes I am, I'm thinking it will be a good year for me and the Europas." He didn't have much else to say, he didn't know much about Noortje, and had only ever talked to her a handful of times. Yet, even in those few conversations he could tell that they regarded him as an important weapon in their arsenal.

He quickly scanned the class to see who would be sharing it with them for the remainder of the year. It was a mish mash of gangsters and all manner of other individuals with their own agenda. If anything was to happen, it would likely be here, and from the looks of things the teacher wouldn't be much help if a brawl started. He mentally gave himself a pat on the back for the choice of seat he'd taken. From where he was he could easily keep an eye on Noortje, Viorica, and if need be, Effy. The three of them weren't weak, but with the number of rival gang members in the class, it was probably a good thing he was here.

He looked back at Noortje who had turned back to talk to Viorica. It was an awkward way to start the morning, and Miles hoped they wouldn't all be like this, but only time would tell. Miles leaned back in his chair and opened up a notebook as he waited for the actual teaching to begin.

When Miles greeted Noortje in Polish, it was a surprise to her. The only languages she ever heard spoken anymore were English and her Limburgish dialect of Dutch. She had to interrupt Miles in order to give her command to Viorica, but she then turned back to Miles. He truly was a large young man, which Noortje did not underestimate. She knew that he could very easily overcome her in a fight, so she made sure to be kind to him. Not to mention, she also felt that he was a truly interesting person to be around. She wished that she spoke with him more often, because she felt she knew so little about him. He was in a good position to come to the aid of his leader if need be, but Noortje knew that the Leviathans weren't stupid enough to start a fight in the first class of the year. She decided to pitch her idea for a gathering to him, as well as to ask for an opinion. "Miles, I need to ask a question to you," she said with her thick Dutch accent. "I want to gather the gang, but I have second thoughts about the large field behind the school. Do you have any suggestions for a location?" This was both a simple question, and a test to see how Miles would react. If he reinforced Noortje's idea about the large field, she would start to think he was kissing ass. If he made a good suggestion, Noortje would look at him with newfound respect.

[Elerian]

Miles Petraukas, Mr. Kennedy's Classroom

Miles caught sight of a pretty blonde haired girl across the room from him. She was a tall girl, taller even than quite a few of the other boys in the class. Miles' observations were cut short when Noortje began talking to him again, he caught genuine enthusiasm in her voice as she asked him about his opinion of her planned meeting.

Miles pursed his lips and his pale blue eyes slowly floated their way until he found himself looking up at the ceiling in concentration. A few seconds passed before he looked back down at Noortje sitting in front of him. "No, this does not sound like good plan" he replied warily. He didn't want to make her feel stupid, and in turn be angry at him, so he quickly followed that up with some reasoning. He leaned forward a tad and in a hushed voice continued, "with the murder, I am thinking we should stay away from the school. They might have set up cameras or something since last month, and if anyone shows up they would find us later."

He shrugged and finished by saying "but its whatever you say Noortje."

[Ontorisa]

Kennedy's Class, Stammers Regional High School
8:13 AM
Tyson Victors

Staring at LaChapelle, Victors grasped his collar and pushed him up against the wall. This was out of character of Victors, but since the bathroom was clear, there was time for him to confront LaChapelle about the Europas, the deals and well, the rumours that surrounded him.

"Christian," Victors snapped quickly in a hushed voice, keeping the younger and shorter boy fixed against the wall. "First of all, what the fuck is this talk about you and the Europas' drugs? Secondly, what happened two years ago? I heard about it, and I want answers. In fact, your entire group of lieutenants want to know."

He stepped back and brushed off the dust that had gathered on his clothing, releasing LaChapelle at the same time. Obviously, if Victors had confronted LaChapelle about this earlier, especially in the classroom, the Europas would have openly attacked them, Zeros looking on or no. It was a very risky situation, and Victors could only expect it would get worse over the months to come.

---

Boy's Washroom, 2nd Floor, Stammers Regional High School
8:15 AM
Jin Hon "Alex" Zu

"Fucking prick!" Zu screamed as he rammed another kick into a prone, younger student, who was visibly beaten ruthlessly as Zu and two other Zeros looked onto the kid. "You fucking crossed with the wrong people, motherfucker!"

This kid, was supposedly part of the Europas, and had been very open about it, talking trash about the Zeros and threatening other students with the use of obsessive force. Of course, turns out, the poor kid had been a poser, a wannabe, someone who would never get in. Regardless, he had to be taught a lesson. The filthy and unsanitary 2nd Floor Boy's Washroom was the best place.

Sun, one of the Zeros looking on, nodded approvingly at Zu's actions as another kick connected with the kid's chest. In response, the kid spat out a clot of blood, clearing his throat before Sun pulled on Zu's shoulder.

"That's enough, I think he's learnt his lesson." Sun cautiously warned Zu of the use of excessive force.

"No," The other Zero spoke up, Inu, before he flicked out a knife. "This'll teach him. Pull him up Jin Hon and lift up his shirt."

Following his order and lifting the kid up and pulling the shirt up, Inu quickly drew a 'Z' on the kid's chest, very lightly. It would be visible to the next person who ran into the kid as Inu stepped back to admire his work. The kid, too bruised and too far into shock, couldn't remain on his feet and collapsed, moaning pathetically as Zu spat on him.

"Let's go, we're done." Inu ordered the two as he replaced the knife in his pocket before spitting on the kid and leaving.

Sun turned around and looked at the kid before leaving. Zu remained, he looked at the kid for sometime before landing a final kick to the boy's chest and leaving the washroom, the kid's barely audible cries could be heard from the outside as Zu followed his Zero brothers.

[Arana]

Stammers Regional High School, Tripoli, Michigan
8:15 AM, September 6, 2010

Christian's eyes flashed with anger as Tyson slammed him against the wall. If they hadn't been at school, Tyson would have had a knife in his chest by the time he finished talking, but it wouldn't be appropriate to do so at that point. He would need to be punished for his insubordination, but he was too good of a lieutenant to get rid of without hurting the gang as a whole.

"Get your fucking head together. We've been robbing their dealers for close to three fucking months! You're supposed to know this shit! I can't have my lieutenants knowing less than the enemy."

Brushing himself off, Christian thanked God Émile hadn't chosen that moment to come out. If he did, Tyson could very likely be dead, and Christian would have been in deep shit.

"You wanna know what happened? Fine. I made a bloody mess out of a Europa lieutenant and sent two more to the hospital. Enough said."

Walking towards the door, Christian looked back over his shoulder briefly.

"And next time you want to pull some shit like this... remember what happened when I fought the Leviathans' last leader, and how I took his place."

[Ontorisa]

Stammers Regional High School
8:16 AM
Tyson Victors

As LaChapelle left the bathroom, Victors rolled his eyes at him. Yes, he remembers what happened to Jake Davids, the poor guy was supposed to be one of the few Leviathans who survived their ordeal at SRHS before moving on. Davids never really could move on, since he wanted closure against the Europas. Ever since LaChapelle had killed him, well, the group of lieutenants who had been there at the time, had never really invoked "The Code" against him, stating he would have to be disqualified from leadership by killing a Leviathan during a leadership tournament. To be honest, LaChapelle was definitely crazy in some sort of way, but Victors never really could put his finger on it.

Standing there in the bathroom, trying to think of what just happened, he heard footsteps as a younger kid, who couldn't have been older than 14, walked in and looked at Victors before adverting his eyes away, quickly. Victors looked at the kid before stepping outside of the bathroom. He passed by Kennedy's classroom before stepping into the main lobby of SRHS. On the side, the acronym was drawn on the brick wall in Maroon, lined with gold paint. Looking at it, Victors continued before stepping outside and breathing in the autumn air.

"Fucking Christian," Victors muttered to himself as he looked up and down the front of the school, looking for a group of people who were ditching class.

[The BaRen]

Nero was leaning on the side of his car, puffing on a cigarillo.

Shit man, how the fuck am I about to make some serious money out here? Nero thought, biting out the filter. It was a Djarum Black, vanilla flavored. Nero inhaled hard. People will tell you not to inhale cigar smoke, but Nero smoked for the nicotine as much as he smoked for the flavor. Nero gazed around.

Fuck, he thought, I might just dip outta here if nothing interesting happens.

Nero took another hit.

I came here to start life fresh. Nero laughed. And look at me? I'm still the same pendejo I was in the varrio. Skipping class, trying to sell some bud. He glanced around. "Damn," he said aloud, "If I don't see nobody chill, I might as well leave."

[Elerian]

Miles Petraukas, Passing Period

Miles ambled out of Mr. Kennedy's classroom behind most of the other students. He was in no hurry to get to the next period, that was on the second floor so he decided to take the long way. As he walked down another hallway he noticed the pretty blonde girl from earlier near the far end of the hallway. He was about to step off into one of the bathrooms when a group of other students seemed to materialize out of nowhere and swoop down on her like vultures. He couldn't hear what they were saying from this distance, but the words likely weren't pretty.

He stepped back from the doorway to the men's room and watched from afar for a moment. In his head he was debating whether he wanted to get involved or not, and with his mind made up he began taking long strides down the hallway towards the tall girl.

[Breitenfeld-Sibbesborg]

Miles Petraukas, Passing Period

Miles ambled out of Mr. Kennedy's classroom behind most of the other students. He was in no hurry to get to the next period, that was on the second floor so he decided to take the long way. As he walked down another hallway he noticed the pretty blonde girl from earlier near the far end of the hallway. He was about to step off into one of the bathrooms when a group of other students seemed to materialize out of nowhere and swoop down on her like vultures. He couldn't hear what they were saying from this distance, but the words likely weren't pretty.

He stepped back from the doorway to the men's room and watched from afar for a moment. In his head he was debating whether he wanted to get involved or not, and with his mind made up he began taking long strides down the hallway towards the tall girl.

Johanna Ahlström
In the Hall between Classes

Johanna had left class in something of a hurry, hoping not to be a moment late for the next period. By the time she got to the end of the hall, she heard a shout directed towards her. Several students came over to her there in the hall, mean smirks on their faces. There were four guys, and all of them were shouted and meanly jabbing at her. They were all speaking rather quickly, so Johanna could hardly understand them. Although she was taller than all but one of the guys, she was still vulnerable and afraid. As the guys got slightly more violent, shouting mean remarks about many things, including her height and the fact that she was new to the United States, she started to respond. Unable to form the correct sentences in English, she shouted in her native Swedish, riddled with some Finnish curses, which were common in the Åland Islands. "Stanna! Lämna mig ifred!" She felt one of the guys push her from the side, which caused Johanna to shout one of the typical curses heard on Åland, "Kusipää!"

[Elerian]

Miles Petraukas, Between Classes

Miles was down the hallway in a few quick seconds, and with his brows furrowed he watched as the blonde girl was prodded and called all manner of names. The boys, seemingly oblivious to Miles kept right on with what they were doing until one of the boys backed into Miles. As he craned his neck up and yet farther up, he began to cringe under Miles' massive size. Seeing the displeasure on Miles' face, he quickly bolted and grabbed the nearest boy as he ran. The others quickly took note of Miles, and just as quickly scrambled.

Miles bent down to pick up a book the girl had evidently dropped, and while standing back straight he handed it to her with his long sinewy arm. "They would be smart not to bother you again" Miles said with his thick accent. "I am Miles" he said as he shook the book a little to get her to take it.

[Breitenfeld-Sibbesborg]

Miles Petraukas, Between Classes

Miles was down the hallway in a few quick seconds, and with his brows furrowed he watched as the blonde girl was prodded and called all manner of names. The boys, seemingly oblivious to Miles kept right on with what they were doing until one of the boys backed into Miles. As he craned his neck up and yet farther up, he began to cringe under Miles' massive size. Seeing the displeasure on Miles' face, he quickly bolted and grabbed the nearest boy as he ran. The others quickly took note of Miles, and just as quickly scrambled.

Miles bent down to pick up a book the girl had evidently dropped, and while standing back straight he handed it to her with his long sinewy arm. "They would be smart not to bother you again" Miles said with his thick accent. "I am Miles" he said as he shook the book a little to get her to take it.

Johanna Ahlström
In the Hall between Classes

Johanna was relieved when the boys started to run off, but she then noticed the reason why the boys left her alone. There was a guy who was much taller than Johanna, which was a rather rare occurrence. She was very grateful that the guy helped her out, and she took the book with a shy smile. "Thank you, I appreciate it." She held out her hand, figuring that a handshake would be fitting. "My name is Johanna." She was extremely shy, so just the small interaction with Miles was very uncomfortable for her at first.

[The NAR]

Daniel Musselman
In Hall Between Classes

Wearing his black Detroit Tigers beanie, with a baggy sweatshirt with a white T-Shirt underneath, as well as normal but old grey pants, Daniel walked through the hall, passing by multiple gang members and giving them only irritated looks. Daneil stopped at his locker and began to enter to combnation, standing only a few feet from him was a kid Daniel believed was Miles, and some girl Johanna. Daniel ignored them, opening up his locker and pulling out his math textbook. Daniel slammed his locked shut and cracked his nuckles, then passed by Miles and Johanna, giving Miles a glare.

Daniel continued to walk foreward, keeping eyes on the area all around him. He didn't wanna get jumped by some gangsters, not at all, but it happened frequently. Daniel kept to himself and walked into his math class, being one of the first students to get there. Daneil took a seat, opened up a journal, and began to write lyrics for a rap he was working on.

[Nachfolgia]

Miles Petraukas, Between Classes

Miles was down the hallway in a few quick seconds, and with his brows furrowed he watched as the blonde girl was prodded and called all manner of names. The boys, seemingly oblivious to Miles kept right on with what they were doing until one of the boys backed into Miles. As he craned his neck up and yet farther up, he began to cringe under Miles' massive size. Seeing the displeasure on Miles' face, he quickly bolted and grabbed the nearest boy as he ran. The others quickly took note of Miles, and just as quickly scrambled.

Miles bent down to pick up a book the girl had evidently dropped, and while standing back straight he handed it to her with his long sinewy arm. "They would be smart not to bother you again" Miles said with his thick accent. "I am Miles" he said as he shook the book a little to get her to take it.

Johanna Ahlström
In the Hall between Classes

Johanna was relieved when the boys started to run off, but she then noticed the reason why the boys left her alone. There was a guy who was much taller than Johanna, which was a rather rare occurrence. She was very grateful that the guy helped her out, and she took the book with a shy smile. "Thank you, I appreciate it." She held out her hand, figuring that a handshake would be fitting. "My name is Johanna." She was extremely shy, so just the small interaction with Miles was very uncomfortable for her at first.

Class had finally ended and not a moment too soon. Viorica found Shakespeare's work to be utterly confusing, mostly because of her limited knowledge of the English language. She knew enough to carry conversations and order food, but nothing as deep and profound as Shakespeare. Many of the outdated words used by one of the greatest play writes of all time were lost to her. Most of the class, Viorica was thinking of ways to prove herself again to Noortje. For someone to climb up the ranks so fast and then fail miserably was unheard of in the Europas and she was determined to set things straight.

Once the class bell rang, Viorica filed out the classroom like the others. She had a mission to do and she wasn't going to allow anyone to get in her way. Out in the hallway, she found the girl who Noortje pointed out talking to Miles. Viorica walked straight up to the two without a second thought. " The leader of the Europas, Noortje Drielsma, wants to personally invite you to the Europas gang meeting tonight. The location will be disclosed at a later time. She is really looking forward to your attendance." Viorica said as politely as her personality will allow. She then greeted Miles before walking off to track down every Europa to spread the word.

[Kamunista]

Miss Marylin dismissed the class and the students stood up and began filing out into the hallway. Murray likewise stood up and began packing up his math book and notebook, which he had filled up with plenty of notes about calculus. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder Ray exited the classroom into the dingy hallway. The hallway was crowded with students of all ages trying to make their way to the next class. As it turned out there was a crowd of people up ahead blocking the flow of traffic, people had just stopped and were staring at some spectacle up ahead.

Being in the back Ray had no idea what was going so he started pushing his way through the crowd, Murray was shorter then most people in school standing at around five foot-seven so he couldn't see what was going on up ahead due to all the tall people in his path. Murray placed his hand on the shoulder of a freshman and tried to gently move him aside, Murray did this to everyone when he needed to get through a crowd in a hurry, most people knew who he was and moved aside, but this one freshman was either stubborn or didn't know any better. The freshman instead of letting himself be pushed out of the way pushed back against Murray, the freshman was some white kid wearing a nasty gray hoodie, tight jeans, and skate shoes, basically a tool. He looked at Murray and sized him up, the freshman was taller then Murray by several inches and obviously thought he could take Ray. "Who do you think you're pushing around?" The white kid demanded with a voice filled with pride and indignation.

Ray was in no mood to play with some wannabe white kid, "Move..." Murray paused staring up at the freshman, "Please," he added.

The freshman took even greater offense at this statement because his face twisted with rage, then he suddenly pushed Murray into a bunch of lockers, Ray was caught by surprise by the sudden outburst of violence by the freshman, even though he was caught by surprise he didn't fall down when he crashed into the lockers. Now it was Ray's turn to get pissed, he clenched his fists and leaped at the white kid and yelled, "Fuckin' cracker!" and brought his right fist down on the freshman's face crashing into the kids nose, blood spurted out of the kids nose, Murray's left fist came in a split second later punching the white kid in his stomach which completely winded the kid. Doubled in pain the white kid stumbled around blood streaming out of his nose before falling over in the center of the hall.

The phrase "Fuckin' cracker." had been shouted louder then Murray intended and had attracted the attention of pretty much everyone in the hall and they then turned to witness Ray beat up some freshman. Murray was slightly embarrassed that everyone was now looking at him, so he picked up his backpack that had fallen on the floor during the brief clash and made his way through the crowd once again in the direction of his next class.

[The Emerald Dragon]

"Viorica"

The spasm of letters that escaped Brett's mouth seemed almost involuntary, triggered just by ending up near the girl. She'd whispered something to the taller, Scandinavian girl but Brett hadn't caught on, still this whole 'Europa' thing seemed interesting - for a gang who ran school into the ground. Still, she'd seemed to be disinterested in Shakespeare - which wasn't surprising, who really needed to learn 400 year old plays anyway? It was an interesting question to ponder, in the few moments of peace he had left since attracting this girl's attention, who'd inevitably make him do some dodgy shit. The girl seemed quite unaware of social etiquette - just interrupting the Scandinavian's conversation with the taller male student.

'Wait a sec, this school's full of gangs, right? Brett remembered, everything his relatives telling him beforehand.

[Transoxthraxia]

Emilia's curtain were never effective, really. It was just a large rectangle of cloth over her window that streamed bright sunlight into her room even in the earliest hours of the morning. She had, however, been able to adjust to it by hiding her face with a pillow. The pillow, however, was thin, and it failed miserably when it came to blocking out the noises that were made in the other parts of the tiny house. As her mother, Maria, left for work, the front door slammed shut, causing Emilia's eyes to shoot open, immediately awake. Checking the time, she had already slept through first period, though she didn't really care. Her mother didn't wake her up anymore, and had more or less given up on her. Her step-father was probably still sleeping off the bourbon that he had drank last night.

Throwing the pillow off of her head and across the room, she sat up on her bed, grabbing a hair tie from her nightstand and bringing up her long, brown hair into a loose and messy bun. Stretching, a number of cracks were heard in her back as she reached her petite body towards the sky. She sleepily remembered that she had sneaked a bit of her stepfather's bourbon away from him the night before to hide in her dresser. Pulling out a fresh set of clothes for the day, the brown and green bruises on her arms were illuminated by the sun rays streaming through the blinds. Pretending not to see them, she pulled out a loose fitting woolen-knit sweater and some short shorts, along with about half of the 750ml bottle of bourbon she stole.

Getting dressed, pulling the sweater over nothing but a bra, she then brought the bourbon over to her desk, that was cluttered with every piece of junk imaginable, though a small corner had been reserved for her wallet, a number of baggies, her keys, her lighter, and her smokes. Shoving her keys and wallet in her right-hand shorts pocket, and her phone in her left, she rummaged around the junk on her desk and found an old, dented metal water bottle. Pouring the rest of the bourbon in, she screwed on the top and closed the empty glass bourbon bottle. Her school bag, haphazardly thrown wherever she bothered to put it last night, was quickly brought over to the desk as well, where she shoved in the baggies, water bottle, and a singular notebook. Zipping it up, she threw on some knock-off Converse, and opened her door to the rest of the house.

The door to her parent's room was closed, presumably because Marcus was still sleeping. Narrowing her eyes in frustration and anger towards her alcoholic stepfather, she went back into her room for just a second, pulling out the empty glass bottle that had previously contained the bourbon. Screaming at her parent's door, "Hey, FUCKFACE!", she whipped the bottle at it, and began running out the front door, not stopping to see the glass shatter all over the room's door. Jogging out the door, making sure she got a far enough ways away from the house to avoid the wrath of Marcus, she pulled out her cigarettes, put one in her mouth, and in one fluid motion, lit the thing and put her lighter back into her bag. Taking a single long drag, she skillfully blew the smoke out her nose, before taking it out of her mouth with her first two fingers on her right hand, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

The day was nice, and the morning sun was shining, meaning it was hard to see her phone unless it was on maximum brightness. The poor thing had been through a lot, with a cracked screen that resembled a lightning storm, and a taped-on battery case. She quickly texted a number in her phone labelled "Effy". "Hey. Corner cafe, 15 minutes." She sent the text, before locking her phone and putting it back in her pocket, moving the cigarette back into her mouth.

The Corner Cafe was a locally owned establishment that was run by, and mostly catered to, the elderly people in the neighbourhood. It was old, run down, and generally shitty, with uncomfortable chairs and shaky tables, but it had been there for decades. It wasn't too far from the school, but far enough away for no one to recognize her at this point in the day. She finished her first cigarette of the day and quashed it beneath her sneakers as she entered the establishment. They mostly served food that was utterly inedible, such as pre-made and packaged sandwiches and days-old coffee. She threw some change up on the counter, and asked for a bottled sweet tea. They didn't even have on-brand sweet tea here, but it'd have to do. As the elderly lady manning the counter handed her the plastic bottle, she sat down on one of the uncomfortable chairs, opened up her bag, and pulled out her water bottle.

The bourbon her stepfather had bought was Angel's Envy, some stronger-than-normal bourbon that really had a potent kick to it. The minute she opened the top, the smell wafted into her nostrils, and her face twisted into an expression of disgust. She poured the entire bottle of sweet tea into the water bottle, and closed the top again, shaking it up. Crossing one leg over the other, she waited for Effy to show up.