Author Topic: First Meeting (Read 497 times)
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« Sept 22, 2009 23:44:53 GMT -6 »
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||Well, let's see how this works out. Please note this all takes place in the present. Not in the past.||

What's my earliest memory of her?

Let me think.

To be honest, my earliest memory doesn't even involve me meeting her, but there were the few times I saw her. I first heard about her from Andrea who heard it from another friend of hers, who then heard it from another...Yeah, you get the point. It was only a month after I transferred in, but I wasn't exactly the the best behaved student either.

Imagine my surprise later, when she became my friend. Weird, how that works out, huh? One of the teacher's most adored pets, and myself, a known delinquent who transferred first from #552, ended up being friends. It was an...interesting arrangement, how that all worked out, but I won't bore you with the details.

It was in the morning, about fifteen minutes before classes started, when I saw her from the second floor. She wasn't easy to pick out from the crowded courtyard near the south entrance, but I found her, wearing the same indigo top as everyone else was, with a silver tie and skirt. She was by herself, walking by with a pile of books on her arms that looked a little to heavy for her; I think she was trying to get them returned to the library before classes started.

Even though she walked along, smiling, I remember there being this melancholic feeling about her. It's that feeling that you know that something isn't right; that something or someone has done something bad to her, but you just don't know what it was.

Or maybe that might have been me.

Just before I left, I saw her bump into someone without realizing it and dropped all of the books, leaving a huge pile on the floor. She quickly knelt down to pick them up, but the jerk didn't help her, leaving her with a message that anyone could pick up, really:

"What the hell? Watch where you're going!"

He later left with a few of his friends into the school.

There, the smile on her face disappeared, and she sat there on the ground for a few minutes, just staring at the books blankly. I thought she would break down and cry, but she started gathering them, ignoring what anyone else ever thought of her. 'Poor girl', I thought, but I wasn't any better.

I was just like that jerk once, after all.


« Last Edit: Sept 22, 2009 23:47:17 GMT -6 by hart » Back to Top  
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« Sept 23, 2009 8:09:33 GMT -6 »
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Boring.

Life was one big, boring, endless loop. Tony wanted nothing to do with it, but he didn`t have much of a choice. Too cowardly to kill himself, he`d rather leave the fate of his life in the hands of some ethereal, omniscient being. No human knew their own fate, so it was up to them to make the most out of their life, less their life meet its end tomorrow. The way Tony did that was to have fun, to enjoy himself in any way possible. Right now, however, the air seemed stagnant. The taste in his mouth, bland. He need some flavour, something to spice up this dreary morning. Unfortunately, all of his contacts were back in San Diego, depriving him of the easy path toward gratification. It looked like he would have to put in some effort today.

Class would be starting soon, but he had enough time to wander around and explore the foreign campus. Entering through the main gate, Tony noticed a few students glance at him and turn to their friends to say something. He flashed a grin at the girls who did this to see if he could earn a reaction from them. Many smiled back, others simply acted as if they weren`t looking at him. 'Ah, it's good being the new guy.' he thought to himself as he tugged on the cuff of his indigo blazer's sleeve. 'Everybody notices you, and if you're as superficially appealing as I am, it gets people talking.'

Tony leaned against the inside of the perimeter wall and retrieved a pack of smokes from the interior pocket of his blazer. Just as he was about to light one up, he noticed an isolated altercation happen a few metres away from his position. A girl with a rather cumbersome amount of items in her hands, mainly books, had collided with another student, who Tony soon learned was none too friendly. It was not unexpected; the corporal punishment system bred such characters. What was surprising to the young man, however, was the fact that the confrontation didn't come to blows. Minor incidents like this usually lead to a fight, but maybe he refrained from doing so because she was a girl.

All that was shown on Tony's face was a smirk, but internally, he was chuckling. 'Brilliant. Just brilliant. Your typical high school jerk and your typical timid studious girl. Teenagers -- no -- humans were so predictable.' Returning the cigarette from between his lips and into the pack, he began walking toward the girl at a casual pace, giving her time to pick up a few of the books before he arrived. He knelt beside her, picking up whatever remained off the cobblestone path and rising, offering her a hand to help her up.

"People can be such twats, can't they?" he said to the girl with a hint of disdain in his voice as he looked at the back of the student who had bumped into her with annoyance. "You want me to say something?" he asked, knowing that she would probably refuse. He didn't really feel like getting his head kicked in so early in the morning, but it would only boost his new, blank reputation at this school if he did. For a good cause, anyway, and what better cause was there than defending those that couldn't defend themselves?


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« Sept 23, 2009 11:27:29 GMT -6 »
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What happened afterward was a little surprising.

It wasn't anything new, of course; people help other people when they're in trouble or in need of help. In this school though, the CPS, or the Corporal Punishment System, was used to keep students in line. It helped greatly with those who couldn't defend themselves, but for rebels and the delinquent types, it was their bane. Anyone who sought to destroy the system, only helped fuel its justification, which in turn, led to its repeated cycle of events. Only with new students each time.

That Guy would certainly know what it was like; he did live under it when he was in high school.

About him, I hadn't seen him before, making him either a transfer or someone fresh from middle school. He walked over to her with that confident pose of his, his cigarette back in its package. He picked up her books as he continued toward her, with, what I thought, was a smirk. He shot a look at the school before he turned to her, saying something I couldn't really hear with the noise; I later asked her what happened and she told me.

Though, whether or not I believed it, was a different thing altogether. Then again, this was Sylvia. And Sylvia was very bad at telling lies.

"Thanks..." was what she said as she stood up, taking his hand and brushing the dust off her clothes, "It happens all the time; I've gotten pretty used to it."

Whatever he said next, made Sylvia rather alarmed but she was rather good at hiding her emotions. She told me once that she didn't want to be the cause or the result of violence, whether or not it was justifiable. The idea of fighting was something she couldn't stomach; it was easy to imagine what would happen if I got into a fight.

"They can be, but I'd rather you didn't do anything." She told him, "I was the one who crashed into him, so it's my fault in the my first place. You don't need to do anything; just helping is good enough for me."

That slight smile and that melancholic feeling I saw before was nothing new, but I never got used to it. It was just eerie, hearing her say that when she obviously was hurt by it. Even when she managed to balance those books on her own and reached out, offering to grab the others from him, saying,"I think I can take those now. Thanks", she probably wanted help, but wouldn't let herself say it.

It was quite a feat at how she could still smile, while at the same time, manage not to fall flat on her back with a question, asking him, "By the way, what's your name?".


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« Sept 23, 2009 12:26:50 GMT -6 »
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[ooc: Ah, so that's what you were doing. I've never seen the limited third-person perspective roleplay style. It's different. I like it.]

Tony's slight grimace was promptly replaced by a sweet smile when the girl took his hand and thanked him, but almost as quickly as it came it was gone when she mentioned that it happened to her all the time. His face would read sympathy. What he was actually feeling? Perhaps a tinge of pity for the weak girl, who took all the shots thrown at her and returned none. It seemed like she lacked confidence, or didn't enjoy being involved in conflicts. The latter could also be a result of the former, but regardless, Tony foresaw a good friend in the very near future. Well, for the girl, anyway. Tony didn't have friends; just people he knew.

Heh, I knew it. the junior thought when the girl answered his question. Just as he had predicted, the girl didn't want him to cause a scene in fear of having to harbour the guilt in the case that someone got seriously injured. Internally, he smirked. Both at his accurate prediction and what she said next, which only gave more evidence that lead Tony to believe she was not very self-confident.

When she reached out to grab the books from Tony, he pulled his hand back, taking the books out of reach. "Nope. Why don't you let me carry your books for you?" he offered with a friendly grin, "I won't take no for an answer. It seems like you're having enough trouble as it is with the books you're already carrying," and with a certain elegant swiftness, he snatched the remaining books out of her hands. "Come on," he said, nodding his head in the direction of the school, "I'll walk you to your class. What class would you need all of these books for, anyway? That's some brutal English class."

The smile she gave him when she asked for his name wasn't genuine; did you ever hear the saying "you can't bullshit a bullshitter?" Well, Tony was the king of bullshit. Adjusting the books so that they were held in place by a single arm and his chest, he extended his hand toward the girl for her to shake after introducing himself. "Je m'appelle Anthony, but most people call me Tony or some variation of it." He would have asked for her name, but he figured she would give it to him anyway out of courtesy. It would be rude if she didn't after asking for his name, wouldn't it?


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« Sept 23, 2009 13:41:45 GMT -6 »
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||EDIT: Removed that whole classes part. It should make more sense now. I hope.||

||Thanks, and you nearly got it. It's First-Person and Third-Person mixed together from the view of another character. It's the first time I'm doing something like this, so it's really time-consuming and it might be a little jarring. If something isn't clear, however, PM me.||


And, interestingly enough, as That Guy would say it, he helped her, introducing himself.

I couldn't catch what else happened as Andrea kept asking about That Guy, that by the time I looked back out, I couldn't see them anymore. I glared at her then ignored whatever she had to say, and she went on and on, asking about him, over and over again.

From what Sylvia told me though, it was a pleasant experience for her. She never struck me as someone who would let someone tell her what to do after she stated it, but I guess, considering what always happened to her before I came, it was a way for her to cope. I wasn't really sure back then, but she had a smile on her face; a smile I wish she did more often, but that was the way things were.

I could only imagine what Sylvia thought when she told me he didn't want her to carry the other set and took her load too. She might have been a bit angry, but I bet she was really happy too. Still, Sylvia angry? Those times were very, very rare, and from what I heard, there was no way that would ever have happened.

When she shook his hand, receiving his name, I think she kept her mask up, saying, "Anthony? But if most people call you Tony, I'll just stick with that then. I'm sure I can remember it, but if I forget, you don't mind me calling you, 'That Really Nice Guy', do you?"

She probably...no. I'm definitely sure she laughed a bit, thinking about her tutor when she said it, next saying, "And about those books, only two of them are for my English classes, but the rest are math at the college level. You can blame my tutor for that."

I caught a glimpse of them when I managed to make my way down to the first floor. She was ahead of him by a few feet, I think, and if I remember correctly, that was when she introduced herself to him, saying, "And, my name's Sylvia, but you can call me Sylvie.", waiting for him to catch up.

With the way she looked, I never would have guessed she was pushed down earlier by that jerk.


« Last Edit: Sept 23, 2009 14:50:59 GMT -6 by hart » Back to Top  
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« Sept 23, 2009 16:05:52 GMT -6 »
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Oh, if she only knew.

They laughed, the blonde and the brunette, almost in unison at the girl's playful quip at Tony. The books almost shifted out of his grasp as he recovered from the brief chuckle and sped up a bit to catch up to her, the afterglow of laughter evident on his lips in the form of a grin. "It can't be that hard to remember. And believe me, I'm not that nice. I can actually be really mean and malicious, you know." he mused, the lingering grin on his face matching the playful tone of his voice. For once in his life, Tony was being honest, but like the Boy Who Cried Wolf, everything he did was so saturated in lies that the line between fact and fiction had been blurred, if not severed. That is, if it was even there to begin with.

She mentioned something about the books in his arms being for mathematics and english, but as far as he knew, they weren't anywhere near the buildings that housed either subject, nor were they heading in their direction. "Sylvia? Nice name. You must be really bad at maths, ay?" Tony joked after the blonde introduced herself, looking at her to gauge her reaction. She may not be very confident, but he hoped she wasn't too sensitive. That would make it too easy to have fun with her. "By the way," Tony began as the pair of students entered the Administration building, "I don't think this is the Liberal Arts or Tech building. Where are we going?"


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« Sept 23, 2009 17:27:36 GMT -6 »
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Still, I wasn't able to stay that long; Andrea found me and started dragging me out of the building towards the LIberal Arts Building all because of a History presentation we had to work on together today. I only saw her stopping for a moment with a thoughtful look on her face, before I completely lost eyesight of her for the whole day. I thought, at first, that she was earnestly thinking on what to say next to him, but it turned out to be one of her trademark looks for whenever she was deep in thought, or needed some time to collect herself.

She told me that she thought she was at O'Hare University, where she had to return the mathematics books at, but for some reason - which may or may not be related to her stack of books - she ended up at Fremont High'. I don't know if it was coincidence, but I always like to think that it was.

When they entered the Administration Building, she told him, "Well, we're going to return the math books to the library on the third floor before classes start. The Liberal Arts Building isn't that far from here, so I'm fine as long as I run back." Then I think she looked back at him and said, "And I'm sure I heard something about me being bad at math, right?"

She didn't tell me what he said, if he did say anything. But that was the truth back then; she was really bad at math, that's why she needed a tutor, even if he didn't like the idea.

Since she was returning the books to the wrong library, I've always thought that she would get in trouble or get yelled at by someone for doing so. Somehow, she managed to avoid it, but she wasn't willing to tell me, only that it was a big secret of hers, but after hearing complaints from him, it made more sense.

Just before she stopped telling me what happened exactly, she did ask him at the base of the stairs, "Where are your classes held at?"


||Between entering the building and reaching the top of the stairs, you pretty much have creative reign on what to say to her. She'll hear it, but she'll just ignore you.||

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« Sept 23, 2009 19:13:14 GMT -6 »
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"Oh."

Tony could not respond with much else but simple acknowledgement of her statement. He found it kind of strange that a high school library would be carrying university-level textbooks, but then he thought back to that little leaflet his family received in the mail and that crap the man that took care of his transfer papers spouted. The Collective was an composed of three separate institutions, and all of them were 'of higher learning' or some kind of arrogant suffix like that. Either Fremont was matching their bite with their bark, or this girl had mistakenly returned the textbooks to the wrong library.

"I don't think you'll have to run back," Tony said, reaching into the pocket of his fitted, neatly hemmed black slacks for his mobile phone. He took a quick glance at the time, returned it to his pocket, and turned his head to face Sylvia, "We still have ten minutes before class starts. That's enough time to get to the library, return the books, finish last night's course work, and undermine a teacher or two on our way to class." he remarked with a smirk on his face. While he didn't have any course work to do, he fully intended on harming a member of the faculty. "And yes, I did say that you were bad at math. Why else would you need a tutor?"

Luckily for Tony, only the more studious of students were ever in the administration building, either to make use of the campus' extensive library or to meet up with one of the teachers or administration. Being in the corporal punishment system since seventh grade, he was well aware what could happen within a school governed by that policy. The cumbersome stack of books he held made him a target, not unlike a carcass to a group of vultures or chum to a group of sharks. Students would very purposely try to bump into him, hoping he would start a fight, but most of the time students just wanted an excuse to start a fight, and the "Hey, watch where you're going you twat!" was the most common. Now, Americans didn't use the word twat much, if at all, but that's something he would shout out.

No student had the bollocks to pick a fight here; the building was swarming with faculty members getting ready to leave for their first class. They had already ascended to the third floor of the building, and as Tony patiently waited for a response from Sylvia, she proposed a question of her own. He didn't know what his classes were, since he had yet to turn in his transfer papers to the secretary. He could always do that one their way out, but that would just consume more time he could use to cause some mischief.

"Coincidentally, my first class of the day is AP English 11. I guess that means I can walk with you to the Liberal Arts building and prevent any tossers from bumping into you again, yeah?" he said jokingly, attempting to open, with difficulty, the library door with his elbow.


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« Sept 24, 2009 14:38:14 GMT -6 »
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"Well, if you want to. I'm sure I'll be fine, but we really can't tell with this school, can we?" was her response to his question, before she continued on towards the library, I think, was right ahead of them.

She told me that if someone wanted to find her, she would always be in the Administration Building. It might have been the large number of teachers and faculty, but she always felt safer there than anywhere else. Plus the added bonuses of it being quiet and somewhat comfortable. Personally, I found the whole area to be a little stiff with teachers giving me an odd look whenever I wore slacks, but they never said anything. It was only when I left the building did a teacher tell me to go back and get changed into the "proper" attire.

So much for freedom of choice there.

Anyways, when she was getting close to the library, she apparently checked inside, telling me she was somewhat worried. It was easy to know what she planned to do, but I always wondered how long she could do that for. She told him, "Looks like it's clear. Well, shall we go in?"

The Frémont High Library was probably the best place to get books on most of the topics in high school, and almost all the high school teachers left one or two textbooks on reserve in case a student needed it right away. It was, as he said, very expansive that it could probably match a college library outside the Collective. Whether or not he was right, I never found it; making blanket statements like that was his forté.

When she reached the counter, she said that she didn't like doing it every single time, but as the university was quite a ways from the high school, it was the only solution; she didn't want to get on her teacher's bad side. So she told the lady there, "I have several books I'd like to return on someone's behalf."

The lady there, if I remember right, gave her quite a glare, asking her something to the effect like, "Is it for Mr. Sukimoto again? I swear. If he does this one more time, I'll start giving him a piece of my mind. If you get books from the university, you're supposed to return it to the university. Honestly, the nerve that guy..."

It wasn't pleasant, of course, but he never did say anything to save himself. I wonder why.

Before that guy, Anthony, would place her books on the counter, she told him, "Thanks for carrying all of this for me. I really appreciate it." in her usual, though not too often, smiling manner.


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« Sept 24, 2009 15:09:41 GMT -6 »
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There was a brief exchange between Sylvia and the librarian, which ended with the older lady at the desk looking rather agitated. Tony could only assume that this Mister Sukimoto they spoke of was the girl's tutor, given the fact they she mentioned before that her tutor was the one to blame for Sylvia, and now Tony, to be weighed down with a couple of heavy mathematics textbooks. Not wanting to hold the books for any longer, the student placed them on the librarian's desk and slid them toward her, making sure to grab the English books before she took the entire stack.

She thanked him with a smile as they left the library, and Tony couldn't help but return it with a charming smile of his own. "Oh, it's nothing, really," he said, waiting a moment before he followed through with the flattering punchline, "I'm a sucker for a cute face. When i saw you there, on the ground scooping up your books, I couldn't help but approach you." Once again he glanced at her with his icy gaze to gauge how she reacted to his comment. Such a blatant compliment would draw some sort of reaction from any girl, and if there was none, Tony could only assume she was about as detached as he was. Judging by all of her recent actions, however, he knew that wasn't the case.

Tony made small talk with Sylvia as they descended the flights of stairs and exited the building: asking her about where she was from, how long she had been attending Fremont High, her favourite type of music, her ethnic background; basic stuff that helped him get to know her a little better. Not that he really cared.

When the pair exited out into the courtyard, Tony first stared in awe at the beauty of the fountain in the centre of the courtyard, then at the clock tower directly ahead, which, in stark contrast to the brilliance of the courtyard, looked to be rather aged and worn. "Looks like we've still got eight minutes until class starts. Do you want to do anything before then, or do you just want to head to the Liberal Arts building now?"


« Last Edit: Sept 24, 2009 15:12:04 GMT -6 by hart » Back to Top  
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« Sept 24, 2009 15:58:59 GMT -6 »
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||Yay! We got out of the library! Everyone celebrate! :P||

Who he was like? Anthony, you mean? Well, you know how Sylvia always thinks of people, especially those who help her without being asked to. That's probably why Setsuna and I were the only ones she trusted. There were probably others, but I wouldn't know for sure. You'd be better off asking him to be honest.

Now, when she told me that after they returned the books, they left the library, talking to each other about their interests, what she liked to do, what she liked to listen to, where she was from, those kinds of things. What were they? Well, she did say she was born and grew up in New York, that she always tried to make friends but wasn't too good at it at first. She always liked spicy foods, loved to sing whenever she had a chance to, liked every kind of music under the sun, and was always that normal, busy type of girl. Ever since she attended Fremont High since her Freshman Year, I guess she was always that way.

Back then, I never thought twice about it. Now, I really wonder if that was true...

Now, I think she told me that Anthony complimented her when they left the library, and that she couldn't say anything at first. I don't really know how she acted, but I imagined her to be a little evasive at first, probably avoiding eye-contact for a bit. By the time they were at the courtyard, he asked if she wanted to go back.

She said this, looking a bit confused at first, "Huh? Well, I guess we could go right now, if you don't have anything else to do. Just make sure you protect me from those 'tossers', alright? I'm counting on you!"

That would be the gist of it.

Where was I? I ended up in a small scuffle just outside the Liberal Arts Building, on the road connected to the Administration Building. It was with the same guys who pushed Sylvia earlier, and Andrea happened to bump into that jerk. It wasn't much of a fight, but I wonder if anyone wondered what that small crowd was about...


« Last Edit: Sept 24, 2009 15:59:19 GMT -6 by hart » Back to Top  
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« Sept 24, 2009 17:40:31 GMT -6 »
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On the outside, it appeared as a friendly, attractive smile. On the inside, it was a devious grin. Tony found the way she avoided his gaze after he complimented her amusing. Either she was bashful, or his flirtatious comment had made her feel uncomfortable. Regardless, he managed to clean up the somewhat awkward (to Sylvia, anyway; Tony remained unaffected) air with his inquisitive small talk. They exchanged face facts with eachother; external information that gave little insight into their personalities. Even if one could get the gist of who you were through these facts, it was all superficial. It was a safe way to tell people about yourself without giving much away.

The blonde and the brunette learned within those few minutes that they shared -- at face value, anyway -- some common interests. He too enjoyed spicy food, and he loved to sing. He mentioned that he was part of the local choir and the lead vocalist of an indie band before it broke up when he lived in San Diego. His taste in music was impartial; "As long as it's pleasing to the ears," was part of his response, as was "I'm not really into the heavy metal stuff. It's noisy, though I appreciate the technical skill it takes." He also told her that he was born in London, England and moved to San Diego when he was thirteen, only transferring to Fremont High recently for his junior year.

Tony let out a light-hearted chuckle at Sylvia's perplexed response, especially when she mentioned tossers. "Sure, I'll be your white knight! And I see you're not familiar with that slang. Tosser is a commonly used insult in England. It basically means you're a chronic masturbator. Come on, I'll walk you to your class before I head to mine. I have your English books, after all."

As the pair headed toward the Liberal Arts building, there was a small crowd gathered on the path, preventing them from reaching their destination. Tony immediately knew what was going on. Anybody who has been in the corporal punishment system for more than a week knew what was going on when a crowd gathered: a fight. "Look up there," he said to Sylvia without looking at her, gesturing toward the crowd with his hand, "It's most likely a fight. Someone should stop it." Filling in the blank of who that someone should be, Tony removed the messenger bag from his shoulder, dropping it to the cobblestone and neatly placing Sylvia's English books on top of it. "I'll just be a mome. Be a dear and watch my stuff, yeah?"

Tony broke out into a light jog, shoving his way through the sparse crowd with little difficulty. It wasn't that he actually cared that someone was getting hurt or breaking the rules. This would all benefit him in the end. The new student that nobody knows anything of attempts to break up a fight and gets injured in the process. A target for the delinquents and fighters; a martyr for the weak and the righteous. It was brilliant; even moreso when he got to the centre of the crowd and saw it was that student who pushed Sylvia down earlier and his mates fighting against couple of girls.

Tony promptly slid between the two opposing parties, spreading his arms out and separating the hostile students by pushing them apart. "Ay now, can't we all just get along? Make love not war and all the rubbish?" he jested, an amused smirk on his face as he eyed the trio of guys rather than the duo of girls.

"Who the fuck is this guy?"

"I don't know. Don't look at me like that! I'll punch that smile right off of your fucking pretty face, you British fag!"

"You lot are picking fights with girls and I'm the fag? Fuckin' wankers." The grin on Tony's face only grew as he made a crude hand gesture that resembled the motions of a man rubbing one off. All three of the male students were visibly seething as the crowd burst out in laughter; one reached out in an attempt to grab him, and with his quick reflexes his right leg thrusted out, the sole of his polished black shoes hitting the boy's stomach and shoving him a metre or two away. Immediately following that, Tony swung his right fist at the boy to his right, who stumbled back and onto his ass from the impact to his face.

Unfortunately, the last of the trio had managed to grab Tony by the collar of his white shirt. What came next wasn't very pleasant -- the boy's fist collided with his left cheek, breaking the delicate skin open just an inch below his eye. Tony just got hit in the face and was now bleeding -- two of his least favourite things. The student he had pushed away with his leg had returned, returning the favour with a knee to the gut, causing him to keel over and clutch his stomach. Soon, he found himself on the floor, covering his head with his arms as he ate a number kicks and stomps to the body. He bit his lip so he wouldn't cry out in pain as he felt one of his ribs crack. It felt like the student he had punched was also back up, joining in on the mock fire-smothering session.

It sucked, but it was all for appearances. To establish an image for himself. Sure, getting his ass kicked by three students wasn't the best possible image, but at least he got his ass kicked for an apparently morally correct reason. Hell, he even earned a laugh from the audience for his witticism. Now he had to wait until they got tired, bored, or the two girls used his distraction to their advantage. He attempted to get up a few times, but was only met by another kick to the ribs that sent him back to the ground.

Bloody hell. They've gone and ruined my school uniform. Guess I'm going to have to get some money from mum to get a new one. Or maybe I'll be able to take it to the dry cleaners...


« Last Edit: Sept 24, 2009 17:41:48 GMT -6 by hart » Back to Top  
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« Sept 24, 2009 19:44:47 GMT -6 »
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What happened to me? I guess I'll tell you.

That fight wasn't as serious as any of the ones you were involved in, of course, but it wasn't easy. If Andrea hadn't said anything then, we would have gotten off we just a warning, but she wasn't Sylvia. She just has to tell him off and shoot the finger. It didn't take long for us to be surrounded by three guys, and it didn't take long either for a crowd to form around us.

I could have taken them all on my own, but they were aiming for Andrea, not me. They all came at once, and I couldn't do anything but run away. I blocked a few and dodged most of their blows, but there were the few times I was hit really hard. Those guys didn't seem like much, but they obviously didn't care who they fought, even if it ruined their reputation, if they had one.

Sylvia? She didn't know I was here, but I knew she was nearby. All because Anthony was there too. She was a bit worried when he ran off, saying, "Wait! What are you going to do?" but whether he heard it or not, who knows? She just stayed back the entire time, a little worried that he would get hurt, but she was a bit glad someone decided to do something about it.

The minute he came, I was stuck in a corner, right after kicking the skinny one in the stomach before having to take a punch for Andrea. But his entrance was...surprising, saying something about 'Make love, not war'. I looked at him; everyone did. After all, he made them, and everyone else, realize what kind of retarded ass wipes they were.

After his appearance though, they went at him like they did with me. Except he didn't have to protect anyone. The three of them against him wasn't fair at all though, and it didn't take long before they used that against him. I decided to help, but I had to get rid of my handicap, so I told Andrea to get out and be useful for once; like find a teacher or someone who can stop this fight.

It wasn't in the nicest way, but I didn't want to put up with her after what I went through.

When all of them were focused on Anthony, I walked right up to the guy closest to me - a guy my height with a pudgy face and freckles; the guy he punched earlier - and slammed my fist into his face. When he fell, I took the time to personally channel my anger until he finally screamed for help; I managed to keep him quiet by breaking his nose until he rolled over.

When his friends checked behind them and decided to help, it was over.

Even Sylvia was surprised how short it was.


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