One of those days(Adam)

[Patrick O'Connor]

It was a good day to be alive and on the top of the school. The cool breeze that rolled in off the ocean and ran between Daniel's hair felt fantastic. With a grin he looked down to the city scape of Long Beach with eyes that held very little negative emotion. From the past he had been in the habit of looking down into the cityscape with a sense of foreboding depression, a feeling that a dark cloud loomed over the city with no chance of hope. Now he felt just neutral and happy to be up on the roof.

Daniel wore a pair of old blue jeans with a shirt was a grey t shirt that read "Whiskey Militia" with the logo plastered at his chest level. His hair was a short black that was just barely long enough in front to wave with the slight breeze that came out of the school. His eyes were a deep blue that seemed to flow with the natural climate of this place, the natural hope. The only other marks of significance were the few scars on his left forearm and the one scar that ran down from his right eyebrow down past his nose.

Daniel was a bit bored but hey, bored was a good thing. He wasn't in any life or death struggles at the moment so that had to be a plus. It had been awhile since he had been in a fight though. That was both a good and a bad thing he figured. Well maybe not a bad thing seeing as a fight wasn't intrinsically bad in of itself. It was just a past time of his that he had not indulged in in quite awhile. Little did he knew that was about to change...

["Adam"]

He wanted to feel out the fighters of California,{Kang enters}

And what better way to do it than fight them? Living very close to the school was handy. Handy in that he could meet new fighters fairly easy. There was always someone you could fight in a High school. The papers had already been fabricated for him to join the school, and he had already enrolled in some of the same classes "Adam" had been in. He wanted to meet people. The way he met people was with his fists. In the fists there is transfered more than strength. In a fist is emotion, personality, and history.

You can learn a lot from a fight about a person by their style, their footwork, their hitting patterns. Were they smart? Honorable? Calm? Angry? Emotional? These and anything else can be conveyed through a punch, or a kick. There were strong people here, Kang felt it. Where to look though?

The Roof.

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The thought sprung up from his thoughts without even trying. He knew that was often where some delinquents hung out in other schools, and it was usually out of the range of the eyesights of teachers. He made his way up to the roof of the school. Lo and Behold. He saw someone. He saw a young man with Black hair, blue eyes, and perhaps battle scars on his arm and face. Kang grinned.

A new challenger approaches.

Kang approached the kid, and gave him a knowing smile with a slight squint to his eyes.

"Hey. You look strong."

He spoke oozing fighting spirit out with every word. Ready to fight.

Let's see what happens.