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Post by Zack Asiv on May 15, 2008 21:25:12 GMT -8
Mr. Malice has asked the student body to help rebuild the destroyed enviornment of the school. Walls caved in, doors blown to shards, lockers torn from their respective places in the walls, windows broken, trees uprooted, tiles broken. You name it, it's broken. Surprisingly this time around all the fire extinguishers are fine.
Please post here with a full post of you rebuilding some things, helping teachers and maybe getting in some cool points. Those that reply to the mass PM may participate.
Payment: $500
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Post by "Unfettered" on May 17, 2008 1:57:59 GMT -8
OOC: Some interactions with some characters in the flashbacks are left purposely vague/devoid of detail as to how they were in the aftermath, so as to avoid God-modding.Mr. Asiv's True Re-Wakening
Theme Song: The Voice of Reason by Mihai Sorohan (sorohanro) [Put On Loop] "Ja... I intend to help. Zis is our school... und its better to show gut acts ven possible, zo as not to have our goals misconstrued, ven ze time finally comes."* * * * * * * * * * * * * The German came bright and early that morning. Looking at the school and the state it was in. Everyone got the phone call. Everyone knew what had happened. Everyone was involved. How could you not be? Aye, it was like some natural disaster. And who had caused it?... Sure, the Enforcers were 'defeated', but there were noticeable casualties on the Enforcer side. Looking the the other way... Heaven forbid, had there been any casualties on the student side?
Jonathan looked away.
"Thrush" wept.
The German sighed.
But "Unfettered"... cracked his already weary knuckles. There was only one way to get through this. Time to get to work. The voice of reason.
Today, he had his hair tied up into a ponytail. He didn't care if everyone saw his eye-patch. Almost wanted one of the faculty members to call him out for it. All he wore was a short-sleeved white shirt, blue jeans, and... his own flesh, blood, oil, and tears.
First place he headed for was obvious. The classroom in which the time 'it' had all started. For him, anyways. Retrace his steps. Students were already there, much earlier before him, many crying, some apathetic. But no one was just sitting around on their ass. Their teacher had been hospitalized, apparently. One of the girls was struggling to drag the teacher's desk to the side. Various trinkets and other pieces of physical material that held the memories of the class's beloved teacher beneath it, crushed underneath the desk. Only one leg left. Shaking his head, "Unfettered" walked over, extending out both his hands. Still the memory of their teacher, bathed in his own blood, on the floor. Generally the very cheery type of guy, too... Tensing over, his hands gripped the edges of the desk, right next to the girl. A look of surprise, she seemed to look as though she was going to ask---Grunting, he lifted up the desk, and she smiled, rubbing her eyes from her tears, as she crawled halfway underneath.
Emily...
No emotional attachments, "Unfettered". Aye, that's what he told himself. And those boys...* * * * * * * * * * * * * The German woke up... bokken still gripped tightly in hand. Falling forward, apparently, having fallen asleep in a crouched position. There stood some students already, far more battered than he was, already carrying the wounded. Ambulances had come rushing into the scene. But... he didn't see a lot of the people who had banded together with him.
Two boys. Two girls. The Supervisor... and various others. Goodness gracious...
What the hell had just happened?* * * * * * * * * * * * * Silently, the German kept holding up the table, muscles beginning to strain. Tired already, all his adrenaline spent. Looking only forward with this hardened look on his face. No one even gave him a second glance. Hammers were taken, nails already pushing back in some of the legs. Scraps of metal being used to reinforce the table... A part of "Unfettered" couldn't even believe this. This was a school, after all. But then, of course, the counter logic was that this was a school. There was no way that it'd have enough funds to cover for everything, regardless of how much money it earned in its various ways. And certainly not everything was going towards repairs.
Helping out straighten out some of the student desk chairs, pushing them into the corners of 'destroyed' and usable, the German took another half hour, just collecting scraps, as one of the students walked in, bringing a whole bucket filled with various containers from Home Depot. Wood glue. Better than nothing, though, no? Just holding the pieces into place, he watched as one of the janitors slowly pushed his make-shift garbage can filled with all sorts of cleaning utensils by the open classroom door, down the hallway.* * * * * * * * * * * * * It was the Supervisor that had saved them, wasn't it? After all, they were just students. Just a bunch of damned students. Hell, he even thought of blaming it on the School Captain, but... what the hell, honestly? There was no way any one of them could've fought against that type of organization. Even with the aftermath Teacher-Student policies employed after Mr. Asiv's death. Hahahaha... that was a funny subject. Didn't all this look a little bit frighteningly familiar? Walking himself up on his bokken, he looked about, checking out... finding Gabriel, and nodding to him...* * * * * * * * * * * * * Having glued in some pieces here and there, he walked out. Past the torn out water fountain, where he had fought that punk---boy with blond hair. Grinning at the irony, as he walked over to the janitor. Nodding as the janitor asked if he could handle it, he went over to the janitor's tool supply, and got out a hammer and some nails. A screw, some bolts, a screwdriver, a chisel...
He began at the connections, working a monkey wrench with the screw over it, as the janitor went down to make sure the water was cut off. A few splashes later, "Unfettered" finally got the bolt on. His arm went mechanically up and down, trying not to waste energy with the usual amount of enthusiasm he would usually exude for an activity like this, as he worked on connecting the pipes back together again. Next came screwing back in the... Oh God. Sighing in slight annoyance, he took out the screwdriver and warbled the screw onto the magnetic tip.---*WHIIIRRRRRRKLUNK* The screw went flying. Dammit. Never did have luck with screws. This repeated three more times, before the janitor finally took over, "Unfettered" nodding his head apologetically, as he worked to connect the other pipes back together, bolt & monkey-wrench. Mechanically, they worked around each other, growing accustomed to one another. Perhaps forcibly, because they kept bumping into each other for the first fifteen minutes. But by the end of it, it was only the edges that were torn that looked altogether bad, since it was the water fountain itself that was torn out.
Nodding to the janitor, he got the hammer out, slowly tapping on the edges, as the janitor went to get his welder gear. Realizing that it wasn't enough, "Unfettered" grunted, and began going much like one of those 'repetitive beak-dipping water-bird' cup things, that kept going up and down, dipping into the water, and back out. Except with a hammer, and attaching the metal of the wall to the metal of the water fountain. Yup... a lot of effort. Looking at his hands, he looked at how it was still healing over, still raw. Then, resumed, going at all the edges, until the Janitor finally returned, and waved him off. Teams of students were wheeling in on carts glass windows. But there was obviously not enough. And the broken windows still had to be taken down. The difficulty was the broken glass edges. Sighing at this, the German suddenly regretted not bringing his gloves. And there was only one way to pop them out too.
Checking back, he ran back over to the janitor's cart, where the old man waved at him.* * * * * * * * * * * * * The water kept on running. But the blood and dirt wouldn't come off. "Unfettered" just kept on staring at mirror, watching as his visage slowly became distorted due to the fog. And then completely indiscernible. He had made several calls. Not everyone picked up. ---*Whump* Landed on his ass, backwards. As if all the strength from his body had drained away. Thinking back... he'd even paused on the School Captain's number. Was it different now? What was she doing? Thinking? In all of that day, he had heard no word of the School Captain. This worried and concerned him in more than one way. And then, Emily... and all the others who had been with him. 'Chocorem' was fine... and he didn't hear anything else bad, so he assumed that Miss Black was fine too.
Water kept flowing out of the sink, til he slowly turned it off. This surprised him, as he expected something of a more violent reaction. So many thoughts, intertwining, distorting one another. He walked off, not even caring about the mess, towel on only at his bottom half. Not really even caring if Mouse came in and saw him like that. Actually, he would've liked if she barged in on him, they rarely talked. And he hadn't seen her cute little dog that much these days.
But he ended up pacing around, until he ended up back in his own room. He sat down. No eye-patch. Just kept staring forward, forward into the blank, white wall.* * * * * * * * * * * * * Gloves on, he put his fingers around the edges of broken glass. The other students looked at him, and he nodded, pulling upward. Immediately, the edges cut into his suddenly extended elbows, and he winced. Not the same amount of pain tolerance he'd built his body to have. The frame of the glass fell behind him, a few of his hairs being cut off in the same time. He looked at the students again, nodding. The next few would be easier, as they were more in whole pieces. All the while, his stony look just keeping him pressed forward.* * * * * * * * * * * * * Just kept staring forward, forward into the blank, white wall.* * * * * * * * * * * * * *SLIDE* Grunting, as the other students helped him, the glass cutting into his gloves, blood seeping out, but he ignored it. More people had suffered worse then he had.* * * * * * * * * * * * * Forward, into the blank, white wall.* * * * * * * * * * * * * Three more glass windows, and he began to get reckless, accumulating more and more cuts, until the students pushed him away. He was hurting himself. Throwing him a roll of bandages... it looked like he wasn't the only one they encountered who was trying to drown himself in non-stop, relentless work.
He proceeded down the stairs, heading for the library.* * * * * * * * * * * * * The blank, white wall.* * * * * * * * * * * * * Books, pages torn, everything scattered everywhere. The librarian was actually crying, sitting on one of the library tables. One of the few that actually remained untouched... But considering, this place was actually lucky. Not too many people had hit this place as hard, apparently. Stooping over, he began to gather up some books... Many of them already worthless, many pages crumples or torn in them. Sitting himself on a chair, he watched as others began to divide them up into sections, many looking through the books. A student actually walked up to him, with a notepad, some paper, and a pencil. Pointing at one book, he basically hand-signaled what to do. Write down the pages missing, if any. Put the book down. More tedious work, but something that would force him to calm down. That would be for the best.
Opening up a copy of one of the many student biology books, he began to go through, flipping up randomly onto a page about homeostasis.
...
Dammit.
Putting it down, he opened up a book called 'The Calamity Of World War II'.
He promptly put it back down.
'Hiroshima'.
Threw it away, into someone else's pile. Sorting through 'The Pilgrim's Progress', he began to open up, page by page... Sometimes reading. About a protagonist named 'Christian'... Someone named 'Pliable'... Ah. An allegorical work.* * * * * * * * * * * * * He couldn't sleep. He'd taken a shower three times, and he was scared of taking a fourth, because he almost felt like he had OCD or something. And he definetely couldn't afford to go insane now. Almost in an instant, he went to touch his left eye, only to keel in pain. Remembering how he lost it... a piece of himself. The boy with the chair leg stabbed through his heart. The girl on the roof top. The fairy. Those people. The man on the beach. The German in the Nazi outfit.
GOD DAMMIT.
ALWAYS DAMNED HELPLESS. No. No.
That was EXACTLY what he had aimed to correct.
A lamp went shattering across the room, as he began to pound onto the wall... lightly enough to make impact, but not break it down.
Growing weaker... and weaker...
...Fucking hell, like he'd sink into depression.
'I have filled my heart with hate.'
'Good.'
...Hehe... that was fucking fitting, wasn't it?
'When you make your choice, make no room for regret in the future. It is your choice, and yours alone. You make yourself who you are.'
'Feelings and emotions are unreliable. Temporary. But without them, we aren't human. Logic. Moderation. Everything's good in moderation.'
'Make the change in yourself that you want to see in the world.'
'Do not be afraid of tomorrow. God is already there.'
...
And what about the day after that?
And the day after the day after that?
And the...
...
...
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
He looked up from the pile. There was so much to be done. Already, one of the volunteer students piled progessively up to a total of thirty-seven more books. He wanted to get out there, sweep up some of the tile or something, or---No. He had to calm himself down first. He didn't trust himself right now. Not now. Not yet... soon.
And for once... he'd check into a hospitable.
And sleep.* * * * * * * * * * * * * "...Just like the day you died... multiplied a thousand times over. Eh, Mr. Asiv?" said the German, standing over the grave. He hadn't paid his respects... well, since.
And right now...
...He still didn't have any. How could he? He was currently a failure. And for Mr. Asiv's final challenge...
No.
There was still a debt to be paid. A personal debt.
The German walked away."Gut nacht, Mr. Asiv."
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Post by Keith on May 22, 2008 22:03:07 GMT -8
Keith felt like being a total jackass today. What would that have to do with rebuilding 259? We'll get to that soon enough. Keith had found himself in the courtyard of PHS #259 in which many of the trees were uprooted. So, Keith would spend the day planting new trees. But, Keith wasn't going to plant your typical trees. Nope... Instead, Keith was going to plant marijuana plants. He would be planting ten foot Afghan Marijuana plants. Hopefully, they would grow bigger in due time. Of course Keith would get in trouble if caught. Instead, Keith would pin it on someone else. As Keith dug one hole, he would plant one of those tall marijuana plants. The root was in rock wool, which is one of the best mediums to grown marijuana which holds a good mix of air and water real well. Once Keith placed the marijuana plant in one of the holes in the ground, he would open a nearby bag of potting soil. Then, Keith would put the potting soil in the hole. Afterwards, Keith would cover it with regular soil. There, the first marijuana plant was planted in the courtyard of 259. Now, Keith would move to the next hole that was dug up. He would then do the same thing. Plant the marijuana plant in rock wool, which was great for it. Then, there was the potting soil and the regular soil. It seemed that this part of California was superb for growing all sorts of marijuana. But, Keith wasn't a marijuana smoker. He only planted these things for entertainment. After the second plant was planted, Keith would move and plant the third one. It was the same process. Soon, there were three marijuana trees planted in the courtyard. Now, it was time to move onto the fourth one. It was the same process. After a half-hour, four marijuana trees were planted in the courtyard. Then, Keith would plant a fifth plant. It was the same process. After a few hours have passed, there were at least thirty-seven marijuana plants in the courtyard. But, if Keith got caught... Nah, Keith wasn't going to get caught. Quickly, Keith would leave the courtyard. He would head to the hallway and jump some hapless high school freshmen. After beating the shit out of them, Keith would drag them out to the courtyard in the middle of where the trees were planted. Afterwards, Keith would rush to find the nearest teacher. He would escort the teacher to the courtyard. "I caught those bastards growing cannibus!" Keith said pointing the finger to the unconscious students. |
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Rem
Soldier
[M:2571]
*gasp* Shocking!!!!!
Posts: 500
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Post by Rem on May 29, 2008 11:22:56 GMT -8
"What in the name of..."
Rem was standing atop a mound of packed debris, surveying the immediate surroundings and the carnage that it emanated. Just what the hell happened here? Whatever it had been, it had completely wrecked the school. Gang war? That was quite possible given the general temperament of the locale. Ah well, he'd come to help clean all this shit up.
"Let's get this over with..."
He slipped on a pair of disposable nitrile gloves he'd pilfered from what was left of the janitor's closet and got to work. He hopped off of the pile of rubble he'd been standing on and went about gathering the largest and heaviest of the debris into one circular pile. The one mound in the area had given him the idea. It'd be a lot easier to manage piles of the stuff than to go pick up and bag everything on site.
Several hours and forty seven mounds of debris later...
Rem plopped down onto the ground exhausted. No matter how much he'd picked up, how much he'd piled, how much he'd hauled off to a dumpster, how much he piled again, it seemed as though nothing in the immediate vicinity had changed. Was someone just screwing around with him and dumping more stuff onto the ground every time he left to get rid of some of it? It was quite the conundrum. He sprang up to a sitting position and stretched his arms upward and outward, cracking his neck as he did.
"Don't give up Rem! Gambaruzo! Gambatte imasu yo! Yoshhhhhi!!!"
Hopping to his feet, he went about his work yet again.
An hour later...
"Okay you've just gotta be f#@kin' kidding me!"
Every mound he had piled thus far was now toppled over. He'd painstakingly stacked them from the most heavy, bulky trash to the tiniest bits of plaster and brick. There was no possible way his creations could fall on their own and there hadn't been so much as even a faint breeze all afternoon.
"Nonononononononono!!! Gah... I need a wheelbarrow or something... damnit, damnit..."
Who or what could be doing this? He hadn't seen or sensed anyone in the area he had chosen to work in. So who...? He kicked a broken tile across the courtyard in frustration, gaining slight pleasure in hearing it crash through some random car's windshield as it drove past the school's walls. There was nothing like the melodious sound of tires screeching and the aroma of burnt rubber to get the good old adrenaline pumping again.
"Ok... Chocorem feels better. Back to it..."
Fifteen minutes later...
"..."
Rem's shoulders drooped. Something was definitely not right with this picture. The courtyard WAS a bit clearer, so his work had paid off at least a bit. Had it not been for the interference by the unknown entity (or Bob, as Rem had come to call his stealthy assailant), he'd have cleared the entire area by himself. The sun was just about setting and Rem was drenched in sweat. He was tired, frustrated and extremely pissed off.
"I'm going to find you Bob... I'm going to make you pay for destroying...no...the word is sabotaging I think? Yes, sabotaging my hard work!"
He pulled tugged the two large heavy duty bags, jam packed and bulging in every direction, over his shoulders and began to move toward the dumpster on the opposite side of the school.
CLANK
Rem's eyes widened and he let the bags drop to the ground behind him. He turned and sprinted to one of his mounds, and then hopped across each of them until he got to the place he was sure the sound had come from.
"Mi-tsu-ke-ta~ (Found you!) Bob! Die! Raaaaah!!!"
He leapt to the ground, his Qi gathering into his right fist, encompassing the appendage in random bursts of electricity.
"Huh...?"
He'd definitely found the culprit alright, but it wasn't at all what he'd been expecting. He let his Qi disperse and dropped his hand as he peered down at a small, fluffy dog, a Pomeranian, six puppies busy feeding from it. They weren't newborns, but were probably just over a week old.
"Ahhh...."
This...was indeed the only being in the vicinity, but Rem, for the life of him, couldn't figure out how this small dog with babies attached managed to cause so much destruction by itself.
"Stupid baby puppies and their... stupid..."
Rem spun around on his heel and grabbed his head with both hands, stomping down on the ground in frustration. There was definitely no way he'd be able to finish before the sun went down... or...would he? He glanced down at the dogs again and then sighed.
"Ok, dog puppies. You stay here, ok?"
He brought his index finger and thumb down to the thing's nose and allowed a rather small spark of electricity bridge the gap between them. The thing yelped and he did it again, holding it firmly by the scruff of the neck with his other hand. Soon the thing simply lay there, peering up at him with annoyed, but otherwise subservient eyes. Rem grinned. He'd won it. So, that Dog Whisperer guy did know what he was talking about...even though Rem was sure Cesar Milan didn't have hyperactive electrolytes and pure electricity at his command. That being done, he rose to his feet and stretched. He only had thirty minutes left before he had to go meet Delilah.
"Let's do this..."
Twenty-five minutes later...
Without the dog's interference, Rem quickly cleared the courtyard of all debris within his allotted time. He'd worked fast, tiring himself out further. Now, he was hunkered down into a squat beside the dog and its newborns, observing them for a bit.
"Well there you go. You happy, dog? I'm all worn out. Lilah-chan won't be happy with that at all... and neither am I. She was gonna wear that maid outfit again... bah... You don't have a collar, but I can't possibly believe that a fancy, poofy dog like you doesn't have an owner... ah well, tough luck."
With that, he stood up, discarded the gloves into his pockets for later disposal and then began to walk away. Or at least he tried to. Something was tugging at the back of his jeans. He looked back only to see his jeans ensnared in the thing's teeth, attempting to pull him back. He shook it off easily and took another few steps. The dog followed, and its puppies scrambled over each other as they scampered to keep up with their mother. At this, Rem couldn't help but smile.
"So...you wanna tag along? Is that it?"
The thing gave a series of shrill barks.
"Well, that's fine by me... but I gotta warn you, I live with a bunch of people. I'm not sure how Lilah-chan'll react... and I'm pretty sure your lives'll be in constant danger with Shake being...well...being Shake. You still wanna tag along?"
Another bark. Rem chuckled and bent over to collect the puppies in his arms.
"Well then, follow me! Hmmm... you don't have a name do you? Well... AHA! Since I want a chocobo as a pet... CHOCOBO! Hahahaha!! Nah, well, you're not a chocobo are you? Well, that doesn't matter. You're fluffy...so how about... Choco...fluff?"
Rem laughed out loud as he lead his new pet out of the school compound.
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Zana
Adept
[M:7528]
Mysterious fiend[A1i:3]
Posts: 173
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Post by Zana on May 29, 2008 15:45:47 GMT -8
Click-
Click-
Whiirrrrrrrr~
"Stop, stop you're doing it all wrong!"
A teacher reached over and grabbed the power drill from Zan. Staring at the fountain for a brief moment, the teacher sighed, and handed the drill back to Zan.
"Try it again- this time, not as much force."
Nodding, Zan took the drill, and slowly- yet surely- screwed the screws into the fountain's base. Several at top- several more near the base. Satisfied with his work, the teacher resumed blocking up the wall behind him with putty and hard wood. Ceramic tiles would be placed over it- which Zan would help with.
Standing up, the student took a rag and began to wipe the excess water from the fountain. It had long since stopped leaking, but the residue of water remained. Taking the rag, Zan placed it inside the sink (in the bathroom) and came back out.
"Oi- take a mop and mop the damned hall. You made a mighty fine mess you scoundrel."
Sighing, Zan headed over to the supply closet, and seized a broom. Grasping it firmly, he began to make his way down the hall, slowly mopping the floor- getting all the dirt and debris.
Did I really make this much of a mess?
He had no idea! The mop worked it's way down the hall, into a nearby classroom, out again, and returned to the closet.
He helped the teacher replace the ceramic tiles onto the wall- with putty reinforcing. The hard wood underneath was covering the concrete which filled up the crevass. By the time they were finished, the hall looked good as new-.....well....almost good as new.
Turning away from the authority figure, Zan sprinted down the hall and turned a corner- only to find himself face to face with yet another figure. This person however, grabbed him by the ear and dragged him down the hall to a large array of broken windows.
Pointing a devastating finger at the windows, the figure muttered
"Help the others fix this."
"Fine, fine! Just leggo of my ear you bastard!"
Kick
Zan stepped back quickly, and grabbed a spare window. He walked over to the other student who was sweating and slaving over the broken windows.
"Here- take it."
He handed the window to the student, as he pulled the broken window out of the wall and laid it down on the floor.
This odd routine continued for quite a while until the windows were all replaced.
Thump- thump
Both he and the other student fell against the wall, sweating and sore. Those windows were pretty darn heavy- not to mention cumbersome. His arms throbbed like his heart, but the teacher wouldn't let him go-
Oh no
The teacher had many other chores he needed help with. Zan's previous supervisor came walking down the hall with a broom and a dustpan.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Sweep-
Sweep
Zan slowly swept a newly refurbished hallway- with dust all over the floor. With a weird "Gah" expression on his face, and dragging the broom across the floor, he held the dustpan loosely in his hand.
This hallway was just too damn big! Well, it didn't matter, since he had finished sweeping anyway.
Heading outside, Zan dumped the cleaning equipment at the front entrance, left them there, and headed out to the nearest tree he could find. In the courtyard, he leaned his back against the smooth bark of the deciduous tree and closed his eyes.
Today would be a long day..
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