The Wheels on the Bus Go "POP!"

[atticus]

The rattling sound of ball bearings rotating was drowned out by the droning of a swarm of school bus engines quickly pumping out the fumes of diesel fuels. It smelt like rancid cigarette smoke, or at least what one would imagine rancid cigarette smoke to smell like. It's easy enough to say it smelt like shit, but such an over-used phrase didn't always make the grade when it came to describing bad smells. Maybe it was better described as the smell of the smoldering remains of fireworks after a July fourth pyrotechnic display. Regardless of what the best metaphor was, it was surely not too healthy for human inhalation.

Those ball bearings became silenced as the wheels they were attached to left the rough asphalt of the road for a brief moment of flight. As quickly as they had ascended, they made contact against the lighter gray concrete surface known as a sidewalk. A mere laminated plywood board, bent upwards at the corner, with sandpaper over it's top, four acrylic wheels, and a little all-American steel. It was all the freedom some people needed to escape the worries of life. To this particular board's owner, that board represented all that was good in life. And he was going to ride on it past all the bad until the end of his days. He knew he wouldn't die an old man unable to stand or even use the restroom without assistance. His death would be so much more instant and "all too soon". Of course, that day was still a long way off. Until that moment, he had his board.

The buses were lined up-side by side in two single file lines. He'd never known what to call that, possibly double-file. As he passed the rear-most bus in the line, he smiled and pulled a sharp corner to get himself between the rows of buses. With his target in sight, he rode past the third-most rear bus and slammed a small object down in front of the rear tire. It was a mere set of nails, bent and welded just so, until they formed a four-pronged jack. No matter how it was set, there would always be a point sticking straight up, as sharp as a surgeons scalpel. He waited until he emerged from the front of the lines of buses to clear the "driveway" that the buses filed into. Once safely up on the sidewalk, he put his foot down and pivoted on it while slowing down his board, stopping him while turning himself around to watch the expected result. After all, the buses would be leaving in a few moments, and if they were to be on time, that meant exactly one minute and forty-three seconds.

[bane]

"Do you have something against the busses, or do you just enjoy stirring up trouble?"

A fairly lean-built boy of about 16 stepped from the other side of the line of busses that the skateboarder had attemptet to sabbotage. His dark blue eyes bore no traces of mallice as he surveyed the new arrival, but his mouth was drawn into a smile that hinted at a trace of mischeif. He had to shout a little to be heard over the roar of the busses as he drew level with the other student.

"Normally, I'd say theres nothing wrong with a bit of harmless fun at the expense of the buss drivers, but did you stop to consider the poor would-be passengers who won't be able to get a ride home now because of your little game?"

Bane knew full well that people in town were used to walking, but this boy intrigued him, and his favorite way to get to know people was through their movements, so he figured there was no harm in insighting a friendly little tussle. His smile widened and the corners of his eyes wrinkled in a friendly manor as he continued.

"You know, we have enough people messing with the school. We don't need more people making trouble."

At this, he began to rotate his right arm at the shoulder, bending his elbow and putting his upper arm through its full range of motion a couple of times before doing the same with his left to warm up his muscles and stretch the joints a little. The broad smile and genial tone of his voice were a dead give-away as to his motives, as well as the fact that he'd done nothing to indicate that the tire hazzard should be removed.

~Nothing wrong with inciting a little orderly mayhem every once in a while. It keeps people on their toes and makes life more interesting. Besides, if he'd wanted to do some REAL damage, he'd have tried to mess with the front bus so that the others would either have to run into it or possibly swere and hit something else. I like this guy. He's got some personality.~

Hopping up and down a few times on the balls of his feet, the challenger had completed his mini warm-up. he widened his stance just beyond shoulder width, and pulled out the earpiece of his headphones, placing it into his right ear and pressing play on his mp3 player.

~Actions speak louder than words. Let's see what this kid's moves can tell me about him.~

[rougestar21]

C'mon man, gotta run, gotta hurry, gotta make it to the bus!
Jonas was yelling that in his head as he flew out of the door of his AP Economics class, his backpack slung over his shoulder and a bottle of Mountain Dew in his free hand. Normally, Jonas would be a little more arranged than he was now, but he had forgotten that he had to take the bus to his new apartment; while this was only a new school and nothing particularly new, Jonas was usually walking home from school, as he had always done. Because of that convienient brain-lapse, Jonas was now in a mad dash out to the bus loading area. As he raced, Jonas looked around for his bus, he happened to notice a boy, about his own age with blonde and purple hair, kneeled down near the bus's back tire, putting somthing shiny right in front of it. If Jonas' experiences in New York had taught him anything, it was that anything shiny was bad; in a coat, it was usually a gun, and in front of a tire it was usually sharp and designed to pop some rubber. Jonas slowed down and walked next to the bus, blending in with the crowd, to see if anything else was going on. He casually turned an ear to the boy, who was now being joined by someone else,
"Do you have something against the busses, or do you just enjoy stirring up trouble?" the new guy said, which was confirmation enough for Jonas.
He quickly dropped his backpack, took a quick swig of his Dew, and dashed around to the other side of the bus; luckily, the two boys were occupying one another too much to notice Jonas.
The new arrival, who seemed to want to square off against the blonde/ purple haired student, let off one more remark as Jonas stepped in.
"You know, we have enough people messing with the school. We don't need more people making trouble."
"Yes, well... Why not fix it instead of preaching to him about it?" Jonas said casually, hoping the two would turn around and see him, spike ball in hand.

[Leon Loire]

This thread is a PURE example of Necromancy. Pure I tell you.

For one, both of the other characters have been inactive for weeks, the original post was made back in mid-March, and a reply was made two weeks later, on April 1st. It has been six weeks since this thread was ever posted in. It's DEAD. Move on.

This thread is locked. Jonas, do not post in threads that have not been used for longer than two weeks, that is unless you were invited or the characters inside are still active. If it goes beyond a month, don't even consider reviving it.

Necromancy is evil. Stick to being alive.