First strike (Open.)

[Zeniro]

Zeniro walked slowly through the parking lot of the school. His heavy boot clad feet thundering off the asphalt. All around him students of this new school remained oblivious to hulking beast that stalked among them. He was almost methodical in his movements. He walked solely in a straight line, those in his way either parted or were moved forcefully by a powerful shove from one of those gloved hands.
Acompanying the rythmic thuds of his boots was the heavy chink of metal, Zeniro wore a heavy link chain around his wrist and forearm, an oddly menacing fashion accesory that garnered a few unsettled glances. As did the row of metal studs that formed almost regimental lines along the shoulders of his denim jacket, the sleeves of said jacket had been visibly torn off to leave it sleeveless.

'Who's this punk.'

Zeniro paused mid step, the comment came from a group of two jock looking individuals. Football players no doubt. Zeniro turned around slowly upon his right heel and faced the two jocks. His dark eyes locking on the larger of the two. Zeniro was right, he wore a jacket displaying the schools team colours and insignia. Turns out this one was in fact the school captain as well as star QB.
Clearly confident with himself the QB smirked and nudged his friend, nodding in the direction of the motionless Zeniro.

'What's that punk looking at?'

Zeniro remained silent. A small group of onlookers had taken interest in the stand off. The schools QB looked like he was about to get into a fight with someone unknown meat head. Most would be banking on the QB to dust Zeniro. Zeniro smirked at the thought of tearing out the throat of the ignorant whelp. Out of sight his fists clenched, those sharp nails clawing through the palm of the leather gloves and into his skin. Zeniro felt the rush of pain flow through his arms as his fists clenched harder and a small trickle of blood appeared in the creases of his hands.
The QB swaggered up to Zeniro and as he thrust both arms out to shove into the chest of Zeniro he was caught by surprise. Zeniro stepped to one side and slammed a hard right hook into the ribs of the QB, as the QB keeled over Zeniro would grab hold of the jacket with hands and then resume to pummel his opponent with multiple knee's to the torso. Even though the QB's legs wanted to fail, Zeniro would not allow it and held his quarry firm. Until with his final knee he rleased the QB and allowed him to sprawl backwards onto the floor some 3 feet away. Zeniro now approached the stunned friend of the QB stampting harshly on the QB's fingers as he walked over the fallen body.
Standing only a few feet from the QB's friend Zeniro paused.

"What now."

'I'm....Damn...What the Fuck man.....We're sorry.'

"No....he's sorry...you're affraid. Run along."

Zeniro watched as the QB's friend stumbled backwards, nigh on falling as he broke into a run toward the school. Zeniro looked back toward the beaten QB. Walking up to their fallen body he casually knelt at their side. Pressing his sharp thumb nail into their forehead he carved out the letter 'Z'. Satisfied he looked around at the shocked on lookers and then made his way to the school. It was his first day and he had to see the school shrink.
He already had so much to share.

[nedzad]

Another day, another bore...

The day was beginning again, and as all others strode from the residence halls to the school building, a red headed Senior strolled with them. Nedzad Ivo Advic, an illegally immigrated Bosnian, kept his pace as slow as his fellow students, his brown eyes half-closed from the teary exhaustion of the night. Another evening of hard study had held him, and now he had to attend his struggling classes yet again.

The campus itself was relatively peaceful this morning, with nothing particularly special to note... yet. Advic knew the reputation of this place; with the latest arrival of the former Varronites, things had gotten more violence, more chaotic. Battles occurred all across the grounds, and it was no longer rare to come across a bloodied heap.

Today was different, however, as Advic and the convoy he strode with came across the usual scene - with the star quarterback as its victim. Suddenly eyes were turned, breaths were gasped, and murmur rose instantly.

'I wonder if he deserved it.' Advic quietly pondered, his eyes quickly glancing to the scene before he prepared to continue on. He had no care for football, and did not intend to change that today due to sympathy. Allowing a rush of Californian wind to catch his red hair, Nedzad looked forward again...

To catch his sight on the back of a chillingly familiar figure.

Stopping still for a moment, Advic attempted to hold back his gaping mouth for a moment, before he could not help but keep it shut with clenched anger. The form, striding far off ahead, was clearly who he believed it to be, and it was a stark surprise someone as monstrous as he could be found in the presence of normal human beings.

'No more of that...'

Jogging forward, Advic jumped between various students, excusing himself in his thick accent, at times breathing heavily from the pained weight of the force of concrete against his weak legs. Attempting to move faster, Advic only found himself moving slower, yet was fortunate enough to notice that the target was not moving any faster either way. Whether he was simply boding his time, or waiting to pounce on Advic, did not matter; Advic had him now.

Walking directly behind the form now, Advic held back a snarl as he whispered towards the back of the man, his voice deep in foreign speech, his anger quelled by intimidation, "What is a figure like you doing here, Beast?"

[Zeniro]

((OOC: It's good to see you're still around.))

Zeniro was taking quite a leisurely stroll toward the school, he didn't have to see the shrink for maybe another half an hour. That is if he even chose to turn up to the scheduled meeting at all. After all this place seemed full of students willing to take a beating, and that was something Zeniro was more than happy to dish out. An unsettling smile slipped over his lips as he thought about the beating he had just given to the QB of the school. That was sure to get around fast and no doubt rile up a few people. Student and teacher a like. The school coach would no doubt flip when he finds out the trauma his star player had just suffered at the hands of Zeniro. Through those groans and thuds he swore he heard a crack or two...those ribs...if not broken were at least fractured. Like an animal thirsting for blood Zeniro slowly licked his lips, taking pleasure in the aftermath of his brief encounter.

Zeniro was close to reaching the school when he heard almost laboured foot falls coming from behind. Were they coming for him? Zeniro's pace slowed further and then as he heard a voice start to speak he was already in the motions of turning to meet the one adressing him. Zeniro's dark eyes would fall on the face of a familiar red headed figure. His dark eyes narrowing as registered just who it was that stood before him. Of course the he was no friend or ally....however he wasn't really an enemy. Just someone who it seemed didn't like Zeniro one bit. Zeniro listened in utter silence while the man spoke.

'What is a figure like you doing here, Beast?'

'Beast' The words stood out, this was not the first time Zeniro had heard such a word used to describe him. In fact he'd heard it so often he didn't really register it as an insult anymore. Merely a term that seemed to suite him and a term he had adopted to describe himself on occasion. Zeniro's dark gaze was unwavering as it found the eyes of Nezdad. What am I doing here...Zeniro paused and then offered a fairly blunt and literal answer.

"I've been sent here...for rehabilitation...I'm told I'm dangerously anti-socail. What are you doing here?"

Zeniro's question was delivered in a blunt tone. Zeniro for the time being didn't feel threatened by Nezdad. However he knew situations could change in the blink of an eye. As a result Zeniro had placed his feet squarely on the floor, his feet spread at a shoulders width apart, the left leg behind the right ever so slightly to offer Zeniro freedom of movement if the need arose. His powerful arms rest at his side, but a tweak in those powerful triceps showed that they were anything but relaxed. To those who weren't looking for it Zeniro's stance would appear casual.

[nedzad]

OOC: Believe me Zeniro, the pleasure is mine. Welcome back.

IC: Nedzad could not help but feel a tinge of surprise from the sudden confusion of 'The Beast', considering the keen memory the red-headed Senior had of that rather cold night a few months ago. The idea of deceit quickly came as a possibility, yet it was tossed aside thanks to the stance of the man in question. He seemed calm, neutral - yet his form seemed on a spring, ready to strike whenever the needs demanded it.

Advic realized that their forms were evenly matched, but since his... "companion" seemed stronger in the position, foolish intimidation was far from a wise tactic. Nedzad realized his best strategy was to play it safe and reply without too much of a hostile tone. Yet, since he had first spoken to him with a bitter voice, he knew completely dropping the darkness of his voice was no longer a wise choice either. So he kept cold, calculated, mysterious.

"I? I was sent here because of what happened to Varron Academy last month. My kind, the Varronites as you'll learn, are believed as dangerous and rebellious, and the government believes this school can cure us. Now, if I may ask, how is a high school supposed to help a dangerous anti-social? Aren't there hospitals for such a thing?"

Advic's eyes were sternly set, his hands loose yet slightly tense, his strong arms lanky yet firm, his legs relaxed yet shaken. The other student truly was like a Beast: unpredictable. At any moment he could strike; or, in the end, he may not strike at all. No matter the possibilities, Nedzad had to hold his stance, and expect the worse, especially considering he knew exactly what this man was capable of...

[taint]

*She shifted slightly at the uncomfortable sight of the quite abnormal way of tagging that she had just observed. Her eyes diverted and her body followed as the crowd dispersed at first, doing her best to avoid the unwanted attention. She wasn't about to begin standing up to people like him, besides. She had hungered as much as the big guy to give the quarterback a well deserved clipping, so to say. She turned with the crowd to head towards school, one foot shuffling after the other as she caught herself thinking again. Suddenly a forceful shove pushed her off balance, only the reptillian part of her brain saved her from falling, one foot jerking hard down on the ground before a hand caught the rest of her, she shouted an idle insult towards the red headed boy who muttered an excuse under his breath as he continued. She picked herself up, her hand leaving the ground before her leg pushed her up into a balance again and continued towards the school.*

"What's a....... Beast!"

*She didn't pick up much due to the clattering of the many students moving about, but what she heard was enough to recognise the heavy accent of the red haired kid. She easily added 2 against 2 and came up with the solution: Trouble.
Chandra would shift in that direction and move half with and half against the crowd in order to seek in that direction. Soon enough another voice would confirm her suspicions, Chandra expected something to happen soon, she broke through the last line of students, stumbled a couple of steps due to a shove by an annoyed student and found herself closer than comfortable to the overdeveloped primate of a student who had just talked of himself as dangerously anti-social, not exactly the best spot in town. She almost yelped, but clenched her jaw together before any sound could escape, shifted her footing and took a tiny leap to the left side of the large figure. Her right foot sliding slightly backwards in order to maintain as much as possible of her balance in order to follow up with another evasive action, she avoided clenching her hands, instead she shifted position and balance again, eyes fell upon the two boys. Chandra sighed softly, eyes closed for a second as she smacked herself mentally, she was too freaking nosey, lips would part in order to mutter a few words to herself*

"freaking fucking stupid, ain't i?"

[Zeniro]

Zeniro's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked toward Nezdad, he noted that the man facing him was studying him. Their eyes looking over Zeniro in a suspicious manner. Zeniro would have smirked bearing that unsettlingly toothy grin, however his face remained like stone. His feral gaze searching Nezdad. Satisfied that no action was to be taken just yet by either side he allowed his eyes to search the area around them. One or two students had clicked on to a possible stand off, and although they hadn't properyl began crowding around the two, students had certainly begain loitering around the general area. Waiting to see if anything worth watching was going to happen between Zeniro and Nezdad.


'I? I was sent here because of what happened to Varron Academy last month. My kind, the Varronites as you'll learn, are believed as dangerous and rebellious, and the government believes this school can cure us.'

Now Zeniro openly smiled, his dark gaze searching for Nezdads own. Once his eyes had locked onto Nezdads he would speak. His voice low yet powerful, his words given a hard edge by his accent.

"Welcome to my world."

Zeniro added only these few words as Nezdad spoke and then the bestial figure fell silent once more allowing Nezdad to speak once more. It was clear he wasn't finished and Zeniro was slightly interested in what the other student had to say to him.

'Now, if I may ask, how is a high school supposed to help a dangerous anti-social? Aren't there hospitals for such a thing?'

"I'm sure you'll find out. After all you're also considered dangerous..and most likely anti-social. After all I don't see you walking around with friends. You and I...it seems now walk a similar path."

Zeniro paused, as he did he raised his right hand to his chin to scratch at the dark stubble that had formed their creating a 5 o'clock shadow. The fingerless gloves revealed Zeniro's talon like nails, painted black and filed to hard sharp points. Zeniro was evidently a lot more unstable than most of the students brought to this school. His body was covered in Tribal Tattoos and he had clearly filed his nails to use them as weapons if the need ever arose.

"As for the Hospitals...they all failed. Apparently this school contacted my last residence. Actually asking to have me sent here, they want to prove they can rehabilitate the most delinquent of students. You never know I might even meet you in some sort of group therapy. Were all test subjects in this shit hole...question is Nezzzzzdad. Are you going to play a long or stand against them?"

Zeniro purposely dragged out Nezdads name, adding a harsh hissing effect. After he had finished speaking Zeniro allowed his eyes to fall just to the right of Nezdad toward a rather Anxious looking young woman. Zeniro smiled, his sharp canine teeth revealing themselves as he did.

[nedzad]

'Rebel against them?' Nedzad felt the furrow of his own scarlet eyebrows place pressure on his temples as the Beast spoke of a question. It had already been curious enough that this man spoke of rehabilitation in the place such as Hircine High - a high school for students. Yes, they were a success story of the "System" like other American schools, but why would a place meant for simple thugs wish to change a monster such as the man before Nedzad?

'They're planning something... perhaps Loire is right to fight them...'

What disturbed Advic more than the sharp blade-like nails of the Beast and his prescence at Hircine, however, was the talk of meeting Nedzad in some sort of group therapy. The thought of having to be truly mentally 'cured'... it made no sense to be cured of being a Varronite, but to be mentally unstable? It was possible, perhaps, considering Nedzad's rather dark childhood, but he could not see himself in need of some old hag that only droned on about emotions.

'I am not weak... I have no need to change...'

Looking back to the Beast once again - and realizing it was more proper to discover the man's name for future clarity - Nedzad Ivo Advic felt himself reluctantly hesitate to continue the conversation, even if to uncover a name. He was honestly unsure of battling the school, the Pillars, the Captain, and the "System." Nedzad was no fan of authoritarian or dictatoral figures to say the least, but the current issue within him was less to gain revenge on a people he had never know, and more toward increasing the luxuries of his own life. He served the Syndicate now, even though that detail would always remain unknown to all except one watchful, powerful man.

Finally, Nedzad spoke, the corner of his bronze eyes catching the sight of a young, fit woman suddenly falling into their sphere of influence, "I honestly do not know. If I was to rebel against them, however, I'd simply take the place of a follower and let others do the main work. People here are already in the midst of combatting the 'System' Beast, and one tremendous example is another Varronite... that Loire. I believe he's French, but you never can tell with names these days."

'I'll uncover his name later. I'd rather find why he was so curious in that reply first.'

Now glancing over to the girl to satisfy her own self-loathing, Nedzad reacted, "Stupidity isn't your issue, lady, it is simply your movements. Keep them fluid, and you'll do fine."

[Zeniro]

Zeniro for his nature was being remarkably patient, some would say even placid. The only thing that denoted any form of agression on his part was his voice and his stance. Both of these traits however were simply natural for Zeniro. For the time being at least he saw no threat in Nezdad. Usually this meant Zeniro would simply turn and walk away from the conversation..however his past meeting with Nezdad already contained a degree of violence. Nezdad had left on his own two feet...a remarkable thing indeed for most who ever go toe to toe with Zeniro.
It seemed for the time being Zeniro was willing to simply talk. Although his body gave no signs of wavering, if he had to...or wanted to he could and would lash out...or merely charge his target down.

'I honestly do not know. If I was to rebel against them, however, I'd simply take the place of a follower and let others do the main work. People here are already in the midst of combatting the 'System' Beast, and one tremendous example is another Varronite... that Loire. I believe he's French, but you never can tell with names these days.'

Zeniro listened as Nezdad spoke, the words he spoke were filtered through Zeniro's feral mind. Only key words actually being picked up on or taken notice of. Nezdad seemed unsure of his place within the school...to Zeniro this meant that Nezdad could one day be an ally..or the enemy of an enermy at least. The other word he picked up on was 'Loire'. Zeniro knew the Leon...he had come across him once before and he was more than sure he would meet them again. Zeniro had no particular interest in Leon. He neither liked him nor loathed him. If it came down to it he would probably rather reak Leons arm than shake his hand...neither he saw happening in any immediate future.

"Leon...."

Zeniro paused, his eyes searching Nezdad's face for a moment. Nezdad seemed uneasy in the presence of Zeniro. Zeniro was used to this. Despite his being uneasy Zeniro noted Nezdad could hold eye contact and he spoke with confidence as he adressed him. The best way to keep a wild animal at bay was to show you were not afraid and that you consider yourself their equal. Nezdad was pulling off this feat and due to it had gained a mere hint of respect from the Maori who stood before him.

"I don't think I like Leon...or his ways....you....you i'm not so sure about."

Zeniro cocked his head to one side, as if pondering something. He gained the impression Nezdad didn't like him. Zeniro thought that was simply down to Nezdad not understanding him...or the way he acted or why he acted as he did. Then again Zeniro's mentality and train of thought was radically different to anyones who was classed as being 'normal' or mentally 'stable'. During his silence Zeniro watched as Nezdad adressed the young woman who had stepped a little to close for comfort...as a result she became a part of the proceedings.