Post by Alkaiser on Dec 28, 2006 3:33:31 GMT 1
(Please ask before replying to this thread. It is meant to be my first meeting with my roommates, so if I let you in that probably means you'll be rooming with me. After I meet them it will open up to the rest of you.)
The sign on the door says closed.
A crowd of students was wrapped around the entrance to their school, Varron High. It was the crappiest school on the planet...but Varron City itself was no gem. One of the hardened students that the system had been battling since day one stepped forth from the crowd and pointed up, practically infantile, at the sign slung across the door. That comment then came from the student's mouth, that is, the mouth of one Steve Barzahd. His spirits dropped with his finger. He turned to the crowd standing behind him. They looked up to him for answers to a mutual multitude of questions.
Dammit. I dunno what to tell you...
He muttered under his breath. Why he spoke up was the question on his mind. Now he faced this crowd of teenagers, all expecting to tell them the obvious problem...they had no school to go to. Look at them...all dressed up with no place to go.
Steve's momentary depression, like the dip in a roller coaster, was followed by a rise of anger. His brow tightened as did his fist.
"So what the hell are we supposed to do!?" Some jackass in the crowd finally spoke up. Slowly the crowd began to agree with his question, then like a wave engulfing the beach they all began to whine with inquiry.
"What do you want me to say?" Steve called out. He paused for effect and the crowd went silent, as if hanging on his every word. "Go home."
With that, he began to work his way back through the crowd, who parted for him immediately. There wasn't a single person there didn't have a bewildered look upon their face. Steve shrank back into the forest quietly.
The edge of the forest was a bittersweet place to come to terms with the fact that one didn't belong here anymore. Steve picks up a smooth rock near his feet. He studies it. He pets it. He finds peace with the rock. Slowly, his thoughts went away, and all was quiet. It was the kind of quiet that just begs to be disturbed.
You were my last chance!!!
What Steve could not be quiet about, what he could not find peace with, was the fact that he was never given a shot to make something of himself here. He had only just arrived and now the place was gone. He hurls the rock through a first story window on the building while he screams. In a huff he turns and slings his backpack over his shoulder, pointed towards home.
Even the door slamming sounds ominous at this point. Steve enters his apartment to find his mother, angrily packing clothes into an old army duffel bag. The clothes are his. The anger is his doing.
"What's up mom?" he asks innocently. She turns for a second to spy her son standing at the door. She slaps a torn envelope onto his chest. It comes marked with a return address of some place in California.
A pair of plane tickets fall to the floor as the letter inside is removed and unfolded. The letterhead reads "Hircine High School". "This is...an invitation!" Steve's excitement upsets his mother, who goes from angry to sorrowful in a split second. She wraps him in her arms, crying.
--3 Days later--
Engines wind down as the pilot's voice follows a speaker tone. "Welcome to Sunny San Francisco." It was raining. The irony did not come across as funny to Steve. Everything he owned was on that plane. His second ticket, intended for his mother, was instead used by dad, his 300 lb. training dummy. His mother couldn't make the trip with him. So now he was on his own.
A set of directions was sloppily scribbled on a piece of paper. They had been from the man on the phone, who they called to confirm Steve's attendance at the new school. What choice did they have? Without a future, Steve would end up with the mob back in New York again. So, Hircine High it was. Steve hailed a cab and was taken to his new home, the dorms near campus.
The wooden door swung open and smacked into the wall. Steve peered in to find an empty room with three closets, three beds, three bed stands with a lamp on each and one bathroom. He was gonna have some roommates. Upon further examination Steve realized that one had already been here, and his items were all moved in to their spots. The second person was still a mystery. Whoever they were, they weren't here yet though. Steve quickly picked the more comfortable of the two remaining beds, and filled his closet.
This was his new home. He could hear other students in the room next to his. With a sigh he sprawled out across the bed and sat, left alone with his thoughts. He reminded himself.
One more finishing touch to make it home...
Steve pulled out a souvenir from his old campus. A sour grin went across his face. What a sick sense of ironic retribution he felt as he nailed the item across his door.
The sign on the door says closed.
The sign on the door says closed.
A crowd of students was wrapped around the entrance to their school, Varron High. It was the crappiest school on the planet...but Varron City itself was no gem. One of the hardened students that the system had been battling since day one stepped forth from the crowd and pointed up, practically infantile, at the sign slung across the door. That comment then came from the student's mouth, that is, the mouth of one Steve Barzahd. His spirits dropped with his finger. He turned to the crowd standing behind him. They looked up to him for answers to a mutual multitude of questions.
Dammit. I dunno what to tell you...
He muttered under his breath. Why he spoke up was the question on his mind. Now he faced this crowd of teenagers, all expecting to tell them the obvious problem...they had no school to go to. Look at them...all dressed up with no place to go.
Steve's momentary depression, like the dip in a roller coaster, was followed by a rise of anger. His brow tightened as did his fist.
"So what the hell are we supposed to do!?" Some jackass in the crowd finally spoke up. Slowly the crowd began to agree with his question, then like a wave engulfing the beach they all began to whine with inquiry.
"What do you want me to say?" Steve called out. He paused for effect and the crowd went silent, as if hanging on his every word. "Go home."
With that, he began to work his way back through the crowd, who parted for him immediately. There wasn't a single person there didn't have a bewildered look upon their face. Steve shrank back into the forest quietly.
The edge of the forest was a bittersweet place to come to terms with the fact that one didn't belong here anymore. Steve picks up a smooth rock near his feet. He studies it. He pets it. He finds peace with the rock. Slowly, his thoughts went away, and all was quiet. It was the kind of quiet that just begs to be disturbed.
You were my last chance!!!
What Steve could not be quiet about, what he could not find peace with, was the fact that he was never given a shot to make something of himself here. He had only just arrived and now the place was gone. He hurls the rock through a first story window on the building while he screams. In a huff he turns and slings his backpack over his shoulder, pointed towards home.
Even the door slamming sounds ominous at this point. Steve enters his apartment to find his mother, angrily packing clothes into an old army duffel bag. The clothes are his. The anger is his doing.
"What's up mom?" he asks innocently. She turns for a second to spy her son standing at the door. She slaps a torn envelope onto his chest. It comes marked with a return address of some place in California.
A pair of plane tickets fall to the floor as the letter inside is removed and unfolded. The letterhead reads "Hircine High School". "This is...an invitation!" Steve's excitement upsets his mother, who goes from angry to sorrowful in a split second. She wraps him in her arms, crying.
--3 Days later--
Engines wind down as the pilot's voice follows a speaker tone. "Welcome to Sunny San Francisco." It was raining. The irony did not come across as funny to Steve. Everything he owned was on that plane. His second ticket, intended for his mother, was instead used by dad, his 300 lb. training dummy. His mother couldn't make the trip with him. So now he was on his own.
A set of directions was sloppily scribbled on a piece of paper. They had been from the man on the phone, who they called to confirm Steve's attendance at the new school. What choice did they have? Without a future, Steve would end up with the mob back in New York again. So, Hircine High it was. Steve hailed a cab and was taken to his new home, the dorms near campus.
The wooden door swung open and smacked into the wall. Steve peered in to find an empty room with three closets, three beds, three bed stands with a lamp on each and one bathroom. He was gonna have some roommates. Upon further examination Steve realized that one had already been here, and his items were all moved in to their spots. The second person was still a mystery. Whoever they were, they weren't here yet though. Steve quickly picked the more comfortable of the two remaining beds, and filled his closet.
This was his new home. He could hear other students in the room next to his. With a sigh he sprawled out across the bed and sat, left alone with his thoughts. He reminded himself.
One more finishing touch to make it home...
Steve pulled out a souvenir from his old campus. A sour grin went across his face. What a sick sense of ironic retribution he felt as he nailed the item across his door.
The sign on the door says closed.