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

[Ontorisa]

OOC

The Auditorium, Stammers Regional High School
7:57 AM

The Auditorium was packed with students from grades 9 to 12 as Vice Principal Keith Darren, paced himself in a cheap dark brown suit with a bright yellow shirt and a pale blue tie. He was in his mid-forties, hairline starting to retreat and did not look the best in terms of health. The stress from Stammers Regional High School had taken a toll on the poor man as he struggled to calm the school's population down. The well lit auditorium was mainly focused on Darren as he desperately tried to calm down the school before he had to resort to the use of a bullhorn.

"Calm down!" Darren screamed into the bullhorn, the noise shattering the chatter that had been in place, leaving a dead silence. "As you all know, Kim Soo Ju was murdered over the summer break, but if anything, it was a disgusting and repulsive attack on a defenceless student. It was a cowardly attack and I know that one of these local gangs are behind it."

"However," Darren continued sharply, wheeling and continuing his walk. "We are still united against this attack, and I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour from now on. Report any suspicious behaviour to me and we'll get this year off fondly."

"Now, as most of you are aware, there's been a significant change in the classes and teaching management over the break." Darren brought the attention of the school to their schedules. "We've added an extra class to your day but-"

He was cut off by a huge amount of booing and chatter about the new educational program he was trying to implant. No one paid any attention to what he was trying to follow up with as Darren took up the bullhorn again and shouted into it.

"Sit down and be quiet!" Darren shouted again, sending the entire room into silence once again. "But, we're making the periods shorter to accommodate this class. Now check your schedules and head to class."

[Skegness-on-Pirn]

The Auditorium, Stammers Regional High School
8:00 AM

Noortje Drielsma walked into the auditorium after the vice principal had already started to speak. She had missed the shouting bit through a bullhorn, but she figured it had done the trick. All of the students were sat in their seats, not disruptively loud, but still talking amongst themselves. Noortje, as the leader of the Europa gang, was flanks by two of the members of the gang. As was her style, they were both blonde, female students, chosen by Noortje to always be at her side. Although she was aware that the principal was speaking, she paid little attention to him, walking down the long aisle to the front of the auditorium. Her light, nearly white blonde hair was tied back into ponytail, but she let it come down over her shoulder. The style was one she had started using when she did sport in the Netherlands. It helped to keep her hair out of her ice-blue eyes when she would run at high speeds. When she took her seat, she immediately looked up at the vice principal, winking at him seductively when his eyes met hers. Noortje often played such games, toying with other peoples' emotions until they were unable to resist. Only once a person's resistance was down would Noortje start to pick them apart piece by piece, fibre by fibre. She truly was capable of evil, even at her young age.

At the end of the rather boring speech, Noortje went out into the hall, as usual flanked by her hand-picked minions. Many students at the school knew who she was simply because of her reputation, but she knew that many only knew her name. She didn't care if people knew her face, as her name was the attribute that would carry on. As she walked through the hallway, she saw no affiliated students, which was a disappointment to the gang leader. She would've liked to have at least a bit of fun rivalry in the morning. She stood outside of her period 1 classroom, waiting for anybody she might know to arrive.

[Themiclesia]

At [Daniel]'s Funeral

The chapel was conspicuously empty when Thomas arrived, almost deserted. It's not clear to Thomas whether the mourners have arrived and gone, have yet to arrive, or do not intend to arrive, but there the casket is, at the geographical centre of the room. Despite the horrible injuries that Thomas understood Daniel to have suffered, it was an open-casket affair. He stood silently, motionlessly, at the door. The interior was anything but decorative, the walls painfully plain, the bricks naked, the altar barren, and the lectern void. Thomas had not personally known any of Daniel's relations, but he thought it fit to arrive to show some respect for the deceased, especially for someone associated by a powerful, upcoming star in the gang world.

He donned a plain, black suit, with satin inner panels. Under that was a grey waistcoat and a white, plain shirt. A black tie divided his right and left chest, tied into a tidy Windsor knot, tight against his throat. On top of his hair, restrained by hair grease, was a hat. The hat wasn't a beaver-pelt one, which is one that he would have worn, but a cloth one. The beaver pelt was too flashy for a funeral for a ordinary person, as he thought. Doffing his overcoat at the portal of the chapel, he bowed to the altar, as he was taught to do at church. Gently, he walked into the chamber, passing the pews, dark, sullied by years of abuse and probably not much faith. Thomas wasn't one to speak of faith, but he was a baptized Anglican, into a very high church. Rites were his way of showing faith and respect, and nobody would be senseless enough to despise someone showing respect for the dead.

Seeing the lone priest tending the funeral, who probably was working overtime and not very pleased, he approached him, and asked for the censer. He took it gently from the priest, and proceeded to light its contents. It appears that incense isn't often used in this facility, as the censer was spanking new. Allowing for just a few seconds for the incense to tumble from the censer, he walked around the space, swinging the censer left and right, filling the space with the sweet, soothing aroma of incense. He censed the priest, who gradually relaxed his stern demeanour and offered him a blessing, which Thomas politely declined, saying that today is a day for the blessing of the newly deceased and his friends and family; the priest, however, was passionate about the blessing. He gave the blessing, with Thomas on his knees. Thomas didn't care for the probability that this chapel wasn't part of the Anglican Communion, but a blessing was a blessing, from a priest or layperson.

The priest took the incense and walked around the high altar, censing it too. Thomas waffed the incensed air towards the broken body, hoping that his act of conscience will console the spirit of Daniel, a very well-liked person of the community. He turned to the casket, and genuflected quickly to the altar behind it. He backed away to the front pew, and joined a sung prayer with the priest, who gradually censed the casket, making the atmosphere somewhat less stifling.

"O Lord God of Israel, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Thy Holy Three in One, blessed be Thou that livest and reignest over all creatures; Holy, Holy, Hosanna in the highest. Receive this my humble offering and prayer, and let Thy peace be upon Daniel, our friend, and Light eternal shine upon him, for today he departs from us and goes to Thy Kingdom."

---

First day, school
Thomas was slightly disappointed that there weren't many people who saw him there, but it may be a blessing in disguise. If this funeral didn't turn out to be as non-partisan as Thomas hoped to be, it could very likely spell trouble for him and mar his neutral image. Nevertheless, as the President of the Exchequer Club, he did feel compelled to appear in an event as devastating as this to the community, to show the people that there are other organizations but gangs. The recent death of the Emperor of the Zeroes at school could be interpreted two ways: either this is a release of energy, such as occasional earthquakes do for the plates tectonic, or merely a prelude to something much more serious. He was unable to attend the funeral of the Emperor, as that would severely compromise his image, but secretly he mourned for his loss, being a rather sensitive person under a numb coat.

The Vice-principal was never a motivated speaker, and his speech did not motivate. It has little message and less authority, both of which are essential to impressing the listeners. The school's issue was not an academic one, but an administrative and pastoral one; unfortunately, as Thomas was keenly aware, the principal is only empowered to solve an academic issue.

WiP

[Arana]

Saint Moses Church, Tripoli, Michigan
November 30, 2008

Following the wake, Christian had meant to go home, but instead headed down to Saint Moses after the rest of the crowd had left. If he was lucky enough, he'd get to see the rest of the funeral. Upon sneaking into the church building, he was surprised to find a complete stranger doing... well, something around Daniel's casket. Maybe whatever it was was a Catholic thing? He knew Daniel had been one, although he'd never been very religious. Covering up his Europa tattoo as best as possible with his hair, he approached, his fists clenched just in case.

"I didn't see you at the wake... and I know you're not a member of his family."

As he approached he stealthily looked over the person for any kind of gang signs. He didn't have the Europa tattoo or the Leviathan ponytail, and he sure as hell wasn't a Zero, making Christian wonder more and more who this person was.

"So... who are you, and what are you doing here?"

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

Following the assembly, Christian, along with two of his Lieutenants (one in charge of recruitment, the other in charge of planning raids on the other gangs' drug dealers) left the auditorium, heading for their first period class. As they walked, they discussed a variety of things, including a recent successful raid against a Europa drug stash. The raid had brought a considerable amount of marijuana and crystal meth into Leviathan possession. The marijuana was kept for the gang's personal use, but the meth was anonymously turned over to the police. Arriving at the classroom, he happened to find one of his least favorite people: Noortje Drielsma and her Europa cronies. Christian still remembered her from his time as a Europa... even then, she was a bitch. A racist one too, and possibly sadistic, from what he'd seen. He couldn't identify either of her cronies, meaning that they'd likely taken whatever position they had recently. Stopping in front of the classroom door with his Lieutenants, Christian popped a Starburst into his mouth (his alternative to gum, which he despised) before looking Noortje up and down. He knew she liked to seduce people... why not let her try with him? If he got lucky, he might even be able to get something out of it.

"Bonjour, salope... heard one of your stashes got stolen recently. Shame. By the way, I've been meaning to ask, did you ever find anyone as good as I was to replace me? Because from the looks of your gang lately, well... doesn't look like it.''

[Skegness-on-Pirn]

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

Following the assembly, Christian, along with two of his Lieutenants (one in charge of recruitment, the other in charge of planning raids on the other gangs' drug dealers) left the auditorium, heading for their first period class. As they walked, they discussed a variety of things, including a recent successful raid against a Europa drug stash. The raid had brought a considerable amount of marijuana and crystal meth into Leviathan possession. The marijuana was kept for the gang's personal use, but the meth was anonymously turned over to the police. Arriving at the classroom, he happened to find one of his least favorite people: Noortje Drielsma and her Europa cronies. Christian still remembered her from his time as a Europa... even then, she was a bitch. A racist one too, and possibly sadistic, from what he'd seen. He couldn't identify either of her cronies, meaning that they'd likely taken whatever position they had recently. Stopping in front of the classroom door with his Lieutenants, Christian popped a Starburst into his mouth (his alternative to gum, which he despised) before looking Noortje up and down. He knew she liked to seduce people... why not let her try with him? If he got lucky, he might even be able to get something out of it.

"Bonjour, salope... heard one of your stashes got stolen recently. Shame. By the way, I've been meaning to ask, did you ever find anyone as good as I was to replace me? Because from the looks of your gang lately, well... doesn't look like it.''

Noortje had noticed Christian LaChapelle approaching before he got to her. The boy, who was one year younger than Noortje, was once one of the more promising members of the Europas. Then, he had a rather inappropriate outburst when he realised that several members of the Europas were attacking the Frenchman's homosexual African boyfriend. The word boyfriend was a word that nearly made Noortje gag. She hated the thought of opening up to another person to such an irresponsible extent. In any case, the homosexual Frenchman killed a lieutenant of the Europas, so naturally he was never allowed near the gang again. When Christian reached Noortje, he began his usual stream of drivel and useless threats. He likely was aware that the Europas were the stronger of the two gangs, and he most definitely was aware that Noortje was more than ruthless enough to exercise their full strength against the Leviathans. Despite her hatred of young Christian, she forced herself to smile, if only to spite the Frenchman.

"Hello, flikker. It seems you've been blinded by your various failures. The Europas stand as strong as ever, despite all you have done to try to undermine us. What your old friend," she paused for a moment, feigning thought, "Daniel, I believe, took away most of your edge anyway." She looked at both of his lieutenants, both of whom seemed to be rather important within the Leviathan hierarchy. She even winked at one of them, hoping to lower his guard slightly. "I suggest you go inside, Christian, before one of your children sees you speaking to a real leader." She hated Christian significantly, but her occasional inability to form proper English sentences definitely hindered her ability to properly insult someone. She hoped that it worked, though, truly not wanting to look at the boy any longer.

[The Emerald Dragon]

Stammers Regional High School
6th September, 2010

'Ah... the smell of a gang-filled classroom, so vivid, pathetic and lowly' thought Brett as he casually walked into the classroom, resisting the urge to throw a quick look of disgust towards Noortje and the two bimbos that hung around her like vultures. Doing that would be far from wise, especially with the withdrawl of the Tripoli PD from Stammers recently. Still, Brett cluldn't help but be enthralled with the decrepit classroom - it was so... unexpected and challenging, of course, Brett couldn't refuse a challenge. Without a gang to fall back on, but the martial experience to prove useful to either of the gangs, he could really fit in here. From Brett's position, located near the doorway, he could hear a male voice - definitely one with previous Europa connections attempting to speak with Noortje - Brett had a feeling it would go wrong to say the least.

Then, the female spoke up, with a pretty scalding tirade of ridicule directed towards the boy, now known to Brett as 'Christian' - in all seriousness, this guy sounded weak. Weak, as in mentally, with none of the qualities a guy like him should have... apparently, in a gangridden hellhole like this. Thus, if Brett was interested in this whole gang business, and that was a big 'if' then he wouldn't be Brett's first choice to go and ask for advice.

[Nachfolgia]

Viorica sat in the middle section of the auditorium during the entire assembly. The Romanian punk sat with her arms crossed, looking rather displeased. Her displeasure didn't come from the vice-principle said, Viorica was always angry. She hated most everything in her life, her parents, the school, America, it all displeased her. The only thing she mildly liked was the Europas, one of the school gangs she was in that consisted of fellow Europeans, and causing as much pain to someone as possible. No one knows why she likes causing pain and sometimes neither does Viorica, but it was an outlet for all her anger and it kept her somewhat sane.

Since coming to America and joining the Europas a few years back, Viorica climbed quickly through the ranks. Due to her merciless attitude and fighting skill, she became enforcer in no time. Though it's not as high as her rank in her old gang back in Romania, Viorica was content. She secretly hopes that one day, the leader of the Europas, a blonde haired Dutch girl by the name of Noortje, would promote her to lieutenant.

When the assembly ended in boos and complaints, Viorica got up from her seat and left the auditorium. She pulled down the sleeve of her hoodie to cover her scarred hand. Her entire right arm was permanently scarred from burns she suffered when she was young. Since then, Viorica always wore long sleeves to hide her deformity. As she walked down the hall, her long flowing black school fluttered behind her. Most of the students who had no affiliation with the gang took drastic measures to get out of her way. Many feared her for her deadly efficiency, thus began her nickname " Black Widow." Viorica noticed Noortje and her bodyguards confronted by a boy named Christian, the leader of the Leviathians . She overheard the boy talk shit to her leader and immediately went over to them.

" Keep talking like that and I'll rip your tongue out through your neck and watch you drown in your own blood." Viorica said in a thick Slavic accent, her demeanor remaining completely calm.

[Themiclesia]

Daniel's Funeral

Thomas was engulfed in a long moment of solitary contemplation, even though he had little feelings for this dead man. At this point a stranger approached him, one that had blonde hair and angelic voice, visible and audible from the small mirror on the high altar. That voice questioned his intentions for being here at the funeral of a person very close to the voice's owner. Thomas did not respond in the first instance, but rather evaluated his options; the voice did not sound threatening enough to be a cause for immediate concern, but nevertheless it wasn't a voice unaffected by grief and betrayal, so Thomas is required by his own conscience to treat this inquisitor gently and reply to his interrogatories.

"I am Thomas Cardew."

The name was quite sufficient a response, as Thomas secretly thought. While there's no incentive to be defensive or conceited, revealing his complete personality is rather out of place and actually unsafe. He slowly turned his head and eyed the visitor.

"The obituary was printed in the papers. I occasionally shopped at his store, and I thought it fit to come bid my final farewell to him."

Not entirely satisfied with his entirely passive demeanour so far, he turned the visitor's questions to himself.

"And," he added, "who would you be?"

---

The assembly was too loud for the principal to get his message across, and he quickly eyed Thomas, who was sitting at the front row, listening attentively, or at least attempting to listen attentively, to the drown-out sermon. Three members of the Executive Committee sat close to him, and they also noted the vice-principal's protest against this unseemly assembly. They turned and vocalized the vice-principal's admonition in polite and vernacular, but firm words, "Quiet please," and "Let the man finish what he has to say", and even "For my sake, shut up!"

At this juncture, Thomas is very much self-taught. Lectures were half expended in flustered efforts of maintaining order. Assignments were discarded when it emerged that most of the class did not bother to complete them. He realized long ago that he could not depend on the school's resources to educate himself, which is why he joined the school's only respectable organization, the Exchequer Club. The Club, as it is currently known, is a social club that meets twice weekly, once during weekdays (mostly Wednesdays at lunch or after dismissal), and once during the weekend, for lunch at a restaurant. As a commitment to its setting, it also regularly enlists those more proficient in subjects to have supplementary consultation sessions for the struggling but at least recognizing their difficulties and willing to rectify them. The Club is a long-standing organization, having been created before the 1950s, as a small but elite club for the children of the well-off. Gradually, through the '60s and '70s, it emancipated the masses that did not fall into the walks of criminality. It also has a charter from the school board, stating that the official name of the Club is The Dedication and Exchequer Club.

The Club is a self-governing body. The general assembly of its members was the highest body of power, but this was convoked only annually and at the exhortation of a smaller but more active body, the Executive Committee. The Executive Committee was responsible for implementing the Club's objectives, looking after its members, managing its purse, dealing with other clubs, and calling elections; its members are seven, composed of a President, a Vice-President, a Treasurer, a Secretary of Clubs (deals with other clubs), a Secretary of Activities, and two other Secretaries without Portfolio. These potentates are chosen at the annual general election in June. The Executive Committee meets daily and takes cares of all the day-to-day decisions. All members must come to consensus in order to make a decision. If a consensus is impossible, the Executive Committee resigned and called new elections.

Thomas joined the Club the second day he enrolled. After less than a year as a vocal member and in recognition of his financial talents, he was elected to be the Treasurer. The year after that, he was made President, at age 16, at the end of his Sophomore year. The Club had an illustrious history of great and poor leaders, but dedicated nonetheless and all the same. During his second election, he ran unopposed for President, much because the President was obliged to supply a much heftier annual fee than everybody else: $5,000. This figure rose by $100 each year after 1970, so as to ensure financial security at the highest level. Of course, due to the rapidly deteriorating circumstances for the Club since 1990, it didn't bode well for the Club to be known to control a large stash of cash; hence, the location of the cash is only known to the Executive Committee. Currently, the treasury is in the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce. And privy to that information is only Thomas, his fellow members of the Executive Committee, and a few select outsiders, not even the school staff. The Executive Committee was sworn to secrecy of the proceedings of the Committee, which met in a secret location anyway.

And to that secret location Thomas went immediately after the assembly, looking at a few, prominent but non-executive members of the Club on his way. But, rather, he chose to put up a few posters for the Club, advertising membership benefits. Then he proceeded to class. He heard Viorica threaten Christian. He heard Christian taunt Noortje. He noticed Noortje retorted to Christian.

All very much school affairs as normal, he thought, though he did smile to onlookers as they passed him by.

He looked at the list of members of the Club. He carefully noted the names of the newly initiated into the Club. Beside their names, he placed a dash for potential criminal activity. The dash was blue if the person was actively involved in gangs. To the ordinary members' names he put a cross, just to make the list inoffensive if somehow obtained by someone outside of the Executive Committee. He reclined on the walls of his designated classroom, realizing that the Executive Committee would need to postpone the meeting, as all the members now have class.

The Club welcomes all individuals, staff and student, to be its members. All people are welcome, with no restrictions on gender, colour, origin, language, and social status. As Thomas recalled, a previous leader of the Fundies (play of "foodies", a somewhat jocular gang in the '70s) was part of the Club while he led his gang, and later was even part of the Executive Committee. The Club encourages its members renounce gang membership and endorse positivity and enjoyment. As a play on a church maxim, the Club's position on renouncing gang membership is "all may, some should, none must". It's stated in the very first article of the Club's charter:

This Club shall be composed of several Members who of their voluntary choice join this Club; of them no qualification other than their positive and considered assent shall be required.

Even more recently, all the major gangs are represented in the Club, though none in leading positions. Possibly the financial commitments deter such low-life from joining the Executive Committee.

[Galdius]

A storm was brewing over the Stammers Regional.


The death of the zero's leader had sent shock-waves thought, solidifying the ground work for a next level of brutality and gang warfare. And Effy had some rather uncomfortable front row seats to the coming explosion of violence that lay ahead. She knew it was coming, everyone, gang members and bystanders alike, was on edge as nothing but silence could be heard from the western front. No reaction, no retaliation, nothing aside from the usual turf disputes, and the dope slingers getting hustled and mugged. Perhaps they were still reeling from the attack, with their moral broken into tiny gem like shards. The "Emperor." as he liked to be haughtily called, had a reputation of being one of, if not the toughest kid on the block. Loved and respected by those truly loyal to the zero's goals, and feared by those who stood against him and gang. And just like that, the titan was whacked in an amateur fashion by some lowly Europa's, with the poor fellow's house sized ego and arrogance likely being his downfall. It was a hard position to recover from, but ultimately, they would strike, hard, true and with little mercy, hitting whatever they could that would cause un-repairable damage to the gang in an act of rage filled vengeance, something that would leave a burning scar seared deep into the pale, white flesh of the gang. Effy knew she was near the top of their hit list, just waiting to be greenlit thanks to her lieutenant status within the clan and the fact that her drugs were one of the biggest money earners within the group, painting a large red cross hair onto her back, with the thoughts of her head getting bashed in or having to endure hours of torture causing some worry, but that wasn't really what scared her the most, she had endured brutal hour long beatings from her meth head father which on a few occasions brought her to what could only be described as deaths door, the pain would be nothing new, the potential beatings being nothing she hadn't faced before. What worried her the most, was that Europa's where cheering at the top of their lungs, riled up in a deadly concoction of violence and brainwashed racial hatred, baying more bloodshed as they saw an opportunity to strike down an old nemesis in an ever gleaming moment of glory, lacking any sort of foresight for the painful and horrible moments of reactionary violence that lay ahead . All of it caused by a stupid idea flew past the point of no return, which Effy couldn't even remember what that point looked like anymore.


She had been thinking for the past few months of throwing in the towel, taking the ritualistic beating, or being "jumped out" and moving onto other, more beneficial things than throwing down and dealing drugs, unlike some, she wanted to be able to have a stable life when she exited the containment of stammers regional. But unfortunately for her, it was looking like the actions of a few had bricked off just about all the avenues of escape from the gang. It was frustrating, how she was now deep in shit thanks to the savage action taken, which she down right protested against, almost begging for them not to do something that they wouldn't come back from in one piece. It didn't gain her any popularity among the group, not that she had any thanks to her actions over the past few years, the liberal approach to dealing, her favoring using a smile rather punch to the face and her futile attempts at trying to ease down potential violence rather than fueling it with a can of gasoline. Many of those enthralled deep in the ideology and the politics of the gang, people who three or so years ago, she considered to be family, now wanted her six feet under, and they had tried to put her there at one point, feeling that she was more a detriment alive. She still stiff from when she was literally stabbed in the back by a bunch of cowardly assholes who licked up all the shit instilled into them when they signed on, slamming her with a box cutter and a few empty and derogatory terms. But it was nothing more than that, a measly, cowardly and half hearted attempt, and she, against her own better judgement, stayed on with them, under the faux promises from fellow lieutenants and the leader herself that vengeance would be swift, which unsurprisingly never came.


Now with the threat of an attack from the zero's being bigger than ever, she was walking on the extortionately thin tight rope of tackling the zero's whilst trying not to get backstabbed (again) by her own kind, who now had no interest in diplomacy with them or anyone else who might want to play ball in their court. And as if things couldn't get any worse, an attack from the vulturous Leviathans had put a considerable dent the weekly profits thanks to them raiding one of her dealers drug stash, stealing a fair amount of both meth and weed. From what she had been told by the various eyes and ears around the place, one of the perks of being semi popular for actually being friendly rather than feared, the bastards had smoked the weed and disposed of the meth, which was rather expensive thanks to the recipe, far superior than the shake and bake the zero's employed. She had to give them credit where it was due, they struck at a prefect time and getting even was far to risky right now for the clan. As far as she saw it, it was a fair goal, and a more defensive plan needed to be implemented to stop them from scoring any more easy strikes, if they went on the offensive, started more shit with the Leviathans, they would end up in a full on war from two fronts which they wouldn't be able to sustain at all.. But it wasn't like anyone listened to her anymore, once they got an idea in their heads it was au revoir common sense.

"Calm down!"

Puffing away at a roll up cigarette, effy watched from the back of the Auditorium as she continued to swat away the all the various threats and problems that were popping up in a Whac-A-Mole like fashion, not really giving any attention to what the joke of a Vice Principal, Keith Darren, had to say, who largely looked like shit as he stood their shouting into megaphone, wearing some tacky, creased suit, with the little hair he had on his head greased back, which she would've swore two years ago was a full head of brunette hair. It seemed that the collective stress gathered over his time in this school was slowly withering his soul away, despite the fact that he was only forty or so years old. It made her wounder what life decisions he would have had to make to end up at this dead end place, where teachers careers and willingness to live collectively comes to an end. Every time she tuned back into the speech, if she could call it that, it seemed like the usual shit, preaching the values of unity, peace, love and the best of all, behaving. She know just by looking at him that he didn't even mean what he was saying, the defeated look on his face said it all, he knew more violence was to come and this was likely to be the worst term in his life, and all he could do about it however was try to convince them not burn the fucking school down in the process, thanks to budget cuts to the police and the school itself. Done on his little speech on unity, he quickly brought up changes to the classes, which prompted Effy to take a closer look at the scrappy piece of paper containing the time table for this year. Booing soon filled the air from the young crowd as the it became apparent that their was an extra class added this year, at the expense of shorter periods. Wonderful. An extra class to pay attention in, an extra exam to study for and a another room filled to the brim with idiots who have little interest in actually learning something. Most of the classes on the page she had little interest in, but with her not wanting to fall into a repetitive cycle in life and with her aspirations of getting clear of Tripoli, she started actually working on the various assignments given out and getting good grades in the last few years, unlike most, who tend to use it as an excuse to goof off or see how far they can push the teacher. Although it was particularly difficult to juggle making money from drugs and doing good in class.

"Now check your schedules and head to class."

Climbing up from sitting position, started making her way through the dilapidated corridors towards her first class, closely followed by her good friend Pavel, a very quiet European who was dragged along by his parents to this shithole of a state, who migrated from eastern Slovakia. He was one of the five people within the Europa's who's loyalty lay more with her than the leader. they all had hung around with from a young age, becoming good friends through the sense of comradery that the gang brought out in them. They had all looked out for each other in the time of need, done each other favors and generally had fun times together doing drugs, getting drunk and occasionally hurting people, but it quickly became more apparent that being mindlessly loyal to the Europa's might not be the smartest idea, with the knife attack on Effy being a pretty good catalyst in fully changing their minds. Most of them were like her in that sense, more interested in getting into peace and earning a bit of money, rather than getting in a perpetual cycle of savagery which would ultimately end with them in prison or dead, likely the latter. On that thought, Effy found the class room, her eyes greeted by three sights, the first one being of Noora, the leader of the gang she served under, with the hand picked female ayran bodyguard brigade being close on her six. The two hadn't exactly seen eye to eye, with her rabid nationalism and rather distasteful racist views clashing with Effy's more liberal way of dealing with situations made the two near incompatible, but she made some pretty good money and was generally on point with her advisal, which warranted Noora tolerating her. Still, she had the sinking feeling that her dear leader had it in for her, and wanted her gone from her ranks in a rather violent fashion, causing effy to keep an eye on her back at all times whenever she was around, so not to have a piece of metal lodged in it (again)


The second sight was the black widow, who was seemingly grilling the third sight in an rather aggressive tone. Viorica, who seemed to more commonly go by the stupid ego fueling nickname of the "Black widow" was a fellow lieutenant, that of course didn't mean they got along like two pea's in a pod, they were more like two opposite sides of one coin. Effy favored being openly friendly while she seemed to be more openly asshole than anything. Effy favored diplomacy and working together while Viorica favored violence and more violence, and so on. She again, much like the feeling she had the boss, that Viorica too has it in for her, but on the plus side Viorica seemed to have it in for just about everyone.

The third one, was Christian, flanked by his commanding officers, who Viorica was laying into verbally. A former Europa she once knew well enough before he turned Leviathan leader, the two where enemies due to the obvious opposite gang affiliations, but if anything she liked him more than the other two, but that was only down to the fact that they had something in common with each other They had both been attacked by people that they were supposed to consider brothers, sisters, family. Only charlie got it much, much worse than she did when it came to civil conflict, with the murder of his boyfriend, something totally unacceptable in the europa's. She genuinely felt sorry for the poor bastard, that fact that he was not only had to go through with the loss of his mother, but then his boyfriend shortly afterwards. But if she said what she thought about dear old Christian to her fellow "Brothers and sisters", she'd likely end up with a noose around her neck with the aryan brigade pulling it at it viciously, and it wasn't like Christian would treat her much better if the opportunity to hurt her presented itself to him. Not giving any notice of the situation unfolding, Effy made her way into the line outside the class room, stacking up close by Noora as they awaited for a teacher to open the door.

[Ontorisa]

Stammers Regional High School
8:02 AM
Tyson Victors

The auditorium address had been nothing but boredom for Victors as he had spent most of his time counting the different heads he could see who would be a problem in the future. He was at the number 19 before they were dismissed. Moving within the large student body, Victors had mostly floated around until he arrived at his first period class. Already, he could sense trouble with the Europa presence within the room, specifically, the fucking bitch leader of the lot, Noortje Drielsma. Victors, not wanting to get involved right away seeing his leader there, assumed a position at the back of the classroom, heaving his bookbag on top of the ancient desk. He could already hear the insults, Drielsma's incapability of forming an English sentence and the Leviathan leader, LaChapelle's retorts.

If this went bad, the Leviathans were definitely in trouble with only four Leviathan members (Victors, LaChapelle and the other two lieutenants) in the room and at least five Europas. He could only recognize Drielsma, but he knew that the others around her were for sure, Europa members. Quickly, Victors made himself noticed as he took a few steps forward to support LaChapelle in case if he was jumped by Drielsma.

"Is there a problem here, Noori?" Victors stepped calmly forward and growled aggressively, trying to force her back from the confrontation. "Or do we need to settle this somewhere else?"

Knowing full well that Victors could be provoking a Europa retaliation, Victors had to play his cards right. If he had studied the class roster correctly, there should be a few Zeros in the room as well. The school, well, it had done well to emphasize a clusterfuck of gang members sharing a class with one another at all times. Regardless of this, Victors could feel that he would have to get the Zeros involved somehow.

"You know, that whole murder over the summer," Victors continued, without letting Drielsma speak. "That was a gusty move Noori, how did you manage to pull that off?"

Already, he could feel the atmosphere of the room tense up as a few Asians looked over to Victors' direction. Not making eye contact with the onlookers, Victors continued the pressure on Drielsma.

[The BaRen]

A car pulled into Stammers Regional High School's parking lot, a shitty Toyota blasting 3rd World by Immortal Technique. Nero parked his car, and stepped out, flamed up: Red and white Nike Cortez, baggy black Dickies, red military belt, wife beater, and red Locs resting atop of his shaved head.

He was late, and had missed the assembly. Checking his schedule, Nero headed to his first period. As soon as he entered the class room, he noticed a tension, as well as two groups of kids in the front were staring each other down. He recognized the white bitches and white boys were the Europas, a gang described to him by his aunt. And the others were Leviathans, making their presence known by their ponytails. Nero narrowed his eyes, keeping his face neutral, and moved to the back of the class, taking his seat.

[The Emerald Dragon]

A car pulled into Stammers Regional High School's parking lot, a shitty Toyota blasting 3rd World by Immortal Technique. Nero parked his car, and stepped out, flamed up: Red and white Nike Cortez, baggy black Dickies, red military belt, wife beater, and red Locs resting atop of his shaved head.

He was late, and had missed the assembly. Checking his schedule, Nero headed to his first period. As soon as he entered the class room, he noticed a tension, as well as two groups of kids in the front were staring each other down. He recognized the white bitches and white boys were the Europas, a gang described to him by his aunt. And the others were Leviathans, making their presence known by their ponytails. Nero narrowed his eyes, keeping his face neutral, and moved to the back of the class, taking his seat.

"Well, is there finally another neutral here who doesn't take sides in this colossal dick-waving contest?" Brett said quietly, slowly turning to face the new student with a small smile of relief; he had thought previously that all the students in this school had some sort of gang affiliation. Grabbing a seat next to the student, but not one that would obscure his view of the ongoing hostilities between the two groups of sad, sad people, eventually, he completely turned towards the student - ready to take him down* if he pulled anything. After the expected knife-in-the-back never occurred, the paranoia towards this other student died down and Brett decided to give his most risky plan a shot. A plan that would surely get the crap beaten out of him if it went wrong...

"Hi" Brett said, preferring to look behind the student while facing him.


* A literal takedown, not a euphenism for beat the shit out of/kill etc.

[The BaRen]

A car pulled into Stammers Regional High School's parking lot, a shitty Toyota blasting 3rd World by Immortal Technique. Nero parked his car, and stepped out, flamed up: Red and white Nike Cortez, baggy black Dickies, red military belt, wife beater, and red Locs resting atop of his shaved head.

He was late, and had missed the assembly. Checking his schedule, Nero headed to his first period. As soon as he entered the class room, he noticed a tension, as well as two groups of kids in the front were staring each other down. He recognized the white bitches and white boys were the Europas, a gang described to him by his aunt. And the others were Leviathans, making their presence known by their ponytails. Nero narrowed his eyes, keeping his face neutral, and moved to the back of the class, taking his seat.

"Well, is there finally another neutral here who doesn't take sides in this colossal dick-waving contest?" Brett said quietly, slowly turning to face the new student with a small smile of relief; he had thought previously that all the students in this school had some sort of gang affiliation. Grabbing a seat next to the student, but not one that would obscure his view of the ongoing hostilities between the two groups of sad, sad people, eventually, he completely turned towards the student - ready to take him down* if he pulled anything. After the expected knife-in-the-back never occurred, the paranoia towards this other student died down and Brett decided to give his most risky plan a shot. A plan that would surely get the crap beaten out of him if it went wrong...

"Hi" Brett said, preferring to look behind the student while facing him.


* A literal takedown, not a euphenism for beat the shit out of/kill etc.

Nero turned to the kid next to him, ignorant of what the young man had been thinking. He looked him up and down with slight suspicion.

"Sup, peckerwood," Nero replied. He figured that this white boy was just looking for some bud. Damn, do I for real just look like a drugdealer? Nero grinned internally. "You lookin' for some of that chron, wey?"

[The Emerald Dragon]

Privately, Brett's mind was divided into two camps; these being the 'WHAT IS THIS GUY SAYING?!' and secondly 'NO! YOU UTTER TOOLCASE, I JUST WANT TO SAY HI! DAMNIT' camp. Both battling for dominance in the proverbial battlefield that was Brett's rarely-at-peace-mind. Eventually, Brett replied.

"No, I just thought I'd say hi"

[Arana]

Saint Moses Church, Tripoli, Michigan
November 30, 2008

"His store, huh? A lot of people shopped at his family's store. Most of them didn't show up."

The wake had had fewer people than he'd expected... mostly family and a few friends. From what he saw, none of his or Daniel's friends from school had shown up, likely not wanting to anger the Europas by associating with either of them. Approaching the casket, he gave a slightly suspicious look to the other boy.

"I was a friend of his. Don't expect me to say more than that... I'm not exactly the most popular person in town at the moment."

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

Christian grinned slightly as he saw one of his lieutenants brush. The Leviathans had a lot that needed to work on, but in time, they'd be on top.

"Come on Pat, there's no way she'd go for you... especially not with her two girlfriends right there! Besides, ma petite putain would only use for a little while, before going back to fucking anything that walks."

Despite Noortje's confidence, he knew that the Europas had taken hits. The amount they'd stolen would be worth at least several hundred dollars, possibly more, and it wouldn't be easy for the other gang to make up all of that money. He also knew, but didn't state outright, that the Leviathans were getting more powerful and more numerous by the day, largely by going after all of the groups excluded from the other gangs. Ignoring the Black Widow, he turned to Tyson, one of his lieutenants.

"No problem here... if there was, we'd have kicked their asses by now. Starburst?"

[Ontorisa]

Stammers Regional High School
8:06 AM
Tyson Victors

LaChapelle was confident in speaking to the Europas, which was something the Leviathans had lacked in the most recent years, Victors could remember that. Without breaking eye contact with Drieslma, Victors nodded to LaChapelle.

"Sure," He trailed off, not really liking the idea. "I'll take one I guess, sir."

Already, Victors could feel the heat of the growing conflict on the back of his neck before he heard the classroom door slam. With the sudden noise, Victors almost jumped out of surprise before he turned, seeing a man poorly dressed in a cheap bright blue suit with a black shirt and a white tie. The man was sloppily dressed as he dropped his briefcase on top of the desk at the front before picking up the chalk and writing on the broken blackboard.

"L-L-Ladies and g-g-gentlemen, m-my name is M-Mister K-K-Kennedy," The man stuttered as he struggled to write his name on the board, stopping at Mr. K. "I'm y-y-your E-English t-t-teacher for this y-year."

Great, Victors thought to himself as he nodded to LaChapelle and returned to his seat. A fucking stutterer, how amazing.

"T-Take y-y-your seats p-p-please." Mr. Kennedy struggled to get the sentence before he looked around. "W-W-We'll s-start with n-n-n-names."

[Galdius]

The tension continued to brew among the group of rivals as they taunted each other, making threats and bragging about stolen merchandise. It was usual shit, bunch of assholes marking their territory to see how far exactly they could push each other before a explosive reaction formed. Effy remained mostly quite, with the only time she even slightly raised her voice was when she traded a few words with pavel, but as the rest gave each others daggers, she stayed clear of it, having no interest in participating in the pissing match that was going down. But that didn't stop her eyes from analyzing over them, Her beady eyes falling onto each lieutenants as she puffed away at the cigarette. Victor was pushing his luck with thunder cunt Noortje and the aryan brigade, seemingly putting all of his money on the lack of a retaliation, or maybe it was the other way around, with the class roster consisting of a few zero's, a violent reaction could earn them some allies. Christian seemed to be acting extraordinarily smug in his attitude, also making weak personal insults towards her bosses character, some of which she considered to be actually true, but even then, it was a risky move.

They where unfortunately getting rather audacious in their actions, likely well aware that damage was being caused to them when they hit the money train, something that she was in charge of. The problem with the Leviathans was that their operations lacked obvious places to hit, they had no position in the drug trade, taking a rather strange moral high ground. Hitting leadership seemed to be the only viable option of revenge retaliation but that would push things too far, making the leviathans a potentially bigger problem than the zero's. Her thoughts temporary turned from the rival gang over to a talk about drugs, more importantly, someone seemingly trying to sling something. Her eyes turned over to a rather tall Mexican man whom she hadn't seen before, which was surprising, because she knew everyone that dealt drugs on the school grounds. He looked fresh to the stammer party and was clearly not from around the area, and the last thing she needed right now was some random cutting into the gangs profits because he was slinging unnoticed. He was long over due the the talk, nobody dealt drugs on the premises without the zero's or the Europeans taking a cut, anyone that did had a death wish.

On that thought, the class room door slammed shut, and a rather poorly dress male stood at the front, wearing another tacky suit, this time bright blue for some reason, along with a black shirt and a white tie. The fashion sense of the teachers was totally bizarre, a bright blue suit? Really? It was almost as if they where begging to be targeted by a group of uneducated delinquents bored out their minds the looking, and to make things just a tiny bit better, the guy looked like he was about to suffer mental breakdown thanks to intimidation. He could barely form a sentence either, stuttering away as he struggled to form a basic sentence and couldn't even write his own name on the blackboard, leaving it half finished at "Mr K." Before jabbering on about how he was their English teacher, even though the man was clearly struggling to speak. When prompted, Effy quietly took a seat near the back of the class, nearer the empty spaces so her fellow gang members could fill the spots, and close enough the Mexican so she could monitor what he was doing, to try and get a feel for the guys personality so she could try to predict how he'd react to hearing that his dealing operation would need to pay out a tribute or stop completely, although she already had the feeling that the reaction would be unpleasant to say the least, just like it was the majority of other independent dealers she had approached, most however, where now under her, paying the very modest fee to deal on Europa turf or stopped dealing due to fear of some broken knee caps. Sitting down, she flicked her now expended cigarette away, and started removing the necessary equipment out of her bag, as pavel took the seat directly to her left.

W-W-We'll s-start with n-n-n-names.

"I'm Elizabeth McKenzie." Effy answered rather flatly, her left hand popping up as she fiddled with her Biro pen in her right, twirling it around in her hand as her attention darted towards the teacher, eyes locking onto him as she waited for everyone else to give out their names, likely along with some light hearted abuse, which she was hoping wouldn't cause the poor guys stutter to get any worse, which didn't seem like it could. But, she, like most others in the class room, would have a hard time taking him seriously grow a pair and stopped being scared of a bunch of dysfunctional teenagers with a tendency for brutality.

[Skegness-on-Pirn]

Noortje hadn't listened to all that much the others were saying. She loved the opinions that other people had of her, no matter how cruel and inflammatory their comments could get. She loved that the Leviathan lieutenant blushed when she winked at him. There were so many people throughout the school who called Noortje a slut, but in reality, her constant flirting was just a game to her. The young Europas leader had never even had sex, which would likely be a massive surprise to most at Stammers Regional. When it finally came to be time to go into the classroom, Noortje looked to both of her minions, one of whom opened the door for her. Noortje, although impulsive, wasn't going to willingly start anything on the first day back at school. She needed to gather the Europas before that happened. When in the classroom, she went to the far side of the room, which showed her confidence in the fact that she wouldn't be attacked in the classroom. Several Europas in the classroom got up, changing their seats to be closer to Noortje. Then, the teacher started to talk - or maybe it'd be better said that the teacher attempted to talk. The teacher was a sloppy looking man, but Noortje would eventually play her mind games against the man, as she did with so many of the staff at Stammers Regional. Before Noortje said her name, she looked over at the rest of the classroom, noticing that Effy McKenzie was amongst the students. Noortje knew that Effy didn't agree with her on most things, despite being a Europa. Sharing a class with the potential rebel would be a good enough way to monitor her. Finally, Noortje looked at the teacher, saying with her thick Dutch accent, "My name is Noortje Drielsma." She said nothing more, hoping that some of the students would start to get afraid.

[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.

[Skegness-on-Pirn]

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."

[Elerian]

Miles Petraukas, Mr. Kennedy's Classroom

Miles was late. The bell had already rung two minutes prior, yet Miles found himself in no hurry to get to class. He lumbered down the hallways as he made his way to Mr. Kennedy's class. He'd overslept, forgetting it was the first day of school again, but he was here now that was all that mattered. It had been almost a year now that he'd been in America, and the transition from Poland to here was particularly hard on him, but even more so for his sisters. He'd tried his best to help them fit in, but he did his best to keep them as far away from the new gang he'd joined as he could. They were dangerous, and he didn't need them getting his sisters involved.

He was supposed to have been involved in the murder of the Zero's leader, but he hadn't learned enough English to fully understand what they wanted him to help them do, so they left him behind. He had been frustrated and angry that they'd done so back then, but now he was almost happy that he wasn't able to go along.

As he maneuvered his head so he wouldn't hit himself on the way through the classroom doorway, he saw that a number of people from other gangs were there too. "Gówno" he swore in Polish. He saw members of both rival gangs clustered together around the room. But, as he scanned he saw his gang's leader and one of the higher ranked members. A small smirk crossed his face as he sighed in relief, he wouldn't be alone the entire year. He began walking over towards them, gracefully avoiding the feet that darted out to trip him as he passed. He stared down those that looked up at him in disgust and after several moments reached his comrades. Without a word he tossed his backpack next to his seat and stretched out his long legs.

He could hear the rival gang members cursing him and his gang, but he couldn't always understand what they said, so he simply stared back at them, like a predator studying his prey. When his turn finally came to say his name he gave it through a heavy Polish accent, "Miles Petraukas." He looked at Noortje and Viorica in turn to see if they had orders to give, or simply something to say to him.

[Skegness-on-Pirn]

Miles Petraukas, Mr. Kennedy's Classroom

Miles was late. The bell had already rung two minutes prior, yet Miles found himself in no hurry to get to class. He lumbered down the hallways as he made his way to Mr. Kennedy's class. He'd overslept, forgetting it was the first day of school again, but he was here now that was all that mattered. It had been almost a year now that he'd been in America, and the transition from Poland to here was particularly hard on him, but even more so for his sisters. He'd tried his best to help them fit in, but he did his best to keep them as far away from the new gang he'd joined as he could. They were dangerous, and he didn't need them getting his sisters involved.

He was supposed to have been involved in the murder of the Zero's leader, but he hadn't learned enough English to fully understand what they wanted him to help them do, so they left him behind. He had been frustrated and angry that they'd done so back then, but now he was almost happy that he wasn't able to go along.

As he maneuvered his head so he wouldn't hit himself on the way through the classroom doorway, he saw that a number of people from other gangs were there too. "Gówno" he swore in Polish. He saw members of both rival gangs clustered together around the room. But, as he scanned he saw his gang's leader and one of the higher ranked members. A small smirk crossed his face as he sighed in relief, he wouldn't be alone the entire year. He began walking over towards them, gracefully avoiding the feet that darted out to trip him as he passed. He stared down those that looked up at him in disgust and after several moments reached his comrades. Without a word he tossed his backpack next to his seat and stretched out his long legs.

He could hear the rival gang members cursing him and his gang, but he couldn't always understand what they said, so he simply stared back at them, like a predator studying his prey. When his turn finally came to say his name he gave it through a heavy Polish accent, "Miles Petraukas." He looked at Noortje and Viorica in turn to see if they had orders to give, or simply something to say to him.

Noortje smiled when she saw Miles Petraukas enter the room. He was huge, which was a great trait to have when it came to intimidating the other gangs. Miles, like Noortje, was an immigrant to Stammers, and also struggled with English at times. He was looking with very intense eyes at several rival gang-members, which Noortje found to be absolutely brilliant. As he walked over, Noortje gestured for one of her Aryan minions to leave her seat to make room for Miles. Miles, as though knowing Noortje's intent, sat in that very seat. The leader of the Europas turned to Miles, "Ah, Miles, mijn favoriet. Are you looking forward to the coming year?" She asked this question not as much out of interest, but rather out of a momentary inability to begin a proper conversation. She was always frustrated when her English failed her, especially when speaking with somebody as important to the gang as Miles.

[The BaRen]

Privately, Brett's mind was divided into two camps; these being the 'WHAT IS THIS GUY SAYING?!' and secondly 'NO! YOU UTTER TOOLCASE, I JUST WANT TO SAY HI! DAMNIT' camp. Both battling for dominance in the proverbial battlefield that was Brett's rarely-at-peace-mind. Eventually, Brett replied.

"No, I just thought I'd say hi"

"Oh, aight. Cool cool," Nero replied, eying anyone of the few putas that made eye contact, as well as watching the Europas silently. Some of them hadn't taken kindly to his aunt moving to Stammers a while back, harassing her due to her brown skin. "I'm Julio, but my carnales call me Nero."

As the teacher asked for names, Nero looked at the chica that sat near him, one of the Europas. Nero flashed a grin at her as she began to talk to her Europa buddies.

"Yo teach, write that Julio Gutierrez is here!" Nero yelled over. "And can I go to the bathroom?"

Nero had been craving for a cigarillo since he had gotten to the high school. He doesn't smoke in the car (the windows don't roll down and Nero doesn't like to hot box his car with tobacco smoke). Shit, I'll get a bathroom pass or whatever and just skip out for the whole day. I can go to Tia Maria's, smoke a couple bowls, watch some TV. Nero looked around the class room, and turned to the chica next to him. "Yo mija, you smoke weed?"

[Breitenfeld-Sibbesborg]

Johanna Ahlström
Mr. Kennedy's Class
Stammers Regional High School

Johanna had been on time to class, and really no other students had been in the classroom when she got there. As she looked around the room at the other students, she noticed that several of them were obviously members of the gangs. There was a blonde girl on the far side of the room who seemed to be pretty important to the people around her. Then, there was a Hispanic-looking guy not too many seats to Johanna's left. The young Swedish-Finn sat towards the back of the room, not because she was a bad student, but because she didn't want to be visible to all of the gang members. She was afraid of the gang culture in her new school, and was determined not to allow herself to become one of them. When the teacher looked at Johanna for her name, she almost stood up the way they did in schools back home, but she resisted. She spoke clearly, but she did have a thick Swedish accent. "My name is Johanna Ahlström, sir." She referred to Mr. Kennedy as "sir," as was customary in the Åland Islands.

[Themiclesia]

Saint Moses Church, Tripoli, Michigan
November 30, 2008

"His store, huh? A lot of people shopped at his family's store. Most of them didn't show up."

The wake had had fewer people than he'd expected... mostly family and a few friends. From what he saw, none of his or Daniel's friends from school had shown up, likely not wanting to anger the Europas by associating with either of them. Approaching the casket, he gave a slightly suspicious look to the other boy.

"I was a friend of his. Don't expect me to say more than that... I'm not exactly the most popular person in town at the moment."

Saint Moses Church, Tripoli, Michigan
November 30, 2008

Thomas grinned slightly and furtively at this reaction. He gradually rose to his feet, so as not to astound his interlocutor. He gave a few thoughts as the speaker's full profile came into view; indeed, he has seen this person before, in school perhaps, but he was surprised that he didn't recognize himself, the President of the school's largest club. If only the situation at school hadn't been so absurdly dismal, a pupil of his standing would earn the deference anywhere he went.

"Your friend," he began, slightly croaking, "was a good person. He deserved my respect, especially at these final moments. As for you, I do not expect you to reveal more than that. We can catch up at school if you so wish. I'm the Treasurer of the Exchequer Club, a fairly well known person. Just ask for me at the Club Office, next to the cafeteria. I hope we can reach further understandings there."

He looked into Christian's sad eyes, but slightly shielding his own.

"Good day, Christian. Relay my regards to Daniel's family, if it please you."

Thomas usually came cross as mysterious to many people, but hopefully this isn't Christian's first direct impression of him; it's poor form to be haughty at a funeral, and Thomas has no intention to offend, much less as a leader of a school organization.