Post by Deleted on Dec 24, 2015 11:33:29 GMT -8
The bustling cafeteria was noisy and over-crowed. He wasn't exsctly comfortable around huge numbers of people. But what could he really do about that? Why do they all have to be so loud..? Deacon thought as he found himself settled alone at lunch, elbows on the table and hands cupped against his chin and cheeks. His guitar could be seen resting on the bench seat next to him, his bag propped up against that.
Behind him he could hear a few kids poking fun at another. As much as he hated that kind of thing, he had been trying to ignore it because he hadn't been here for more than a few days and he wasn't trying to find trouble. But it was likely unavoidable, because he soon felt something collide with his back-side.
"Really!? What the h-" He stopped speaking when he realized thst it was the one being bullied that had been thrown into him. Having shifted in his seat, throwing his leg over the bench seat, Deacon would stand and then extend a hand toward the student to help him up while he apologized. "Forget about it. Wasn't your fault."
"Hahaa, what a little bitch! Maybe we should fuck em both up?"
The three bullies came forward slow amd Deacon's left arm would extend to the side and push the other kid back forcefully, hoping he got the hint to stay out of it. "..Well. Looks like I've got no choice in the matter. Guess I'm going to have to drop all three of you shitbags." His words were stern and there was an aura of confidence about the grey eyed body as he prepared himself for the assault. He had been in this position before at his old school, sometimes the outcome had been good, other times not so great. Deacon couldn't allow himself to back down now.
Instead of rushing to fight all three at once, he stayed in position and simply shifted his left leg forward, tended and bent his left arm up, and folded his right fist up closer toward his chin. The first rushed in with a slow, wide arcing right haymaker. The grey eyed boy was no stranger to fighting. His left arm snapped upward as his fist and forearm straightened up vertically and he brought it against the inside of the attack, his already prepped right hand would thrust forward, driving his knuckles into the first's throat.
He continued to hold position amidsts the gurgling sound the first made and the swearing from from his friends as they came in. They were body going toward his sides, the one on the left throwing the first punch. Deacon would weave out of the way, but his friend ended up booting him in his other side, forcing Deacon to loose balance and fall toward his left.
Tucking his head and shoulder, he would hit the ground and roll into a crouched position, gritting his teeth as he worked to relocate his assailants. The second, who initially miased him was the closest and just happened to be stepping in.
Deacon would lash out from his lowered position, two swift straights embedding themselves into the groin of the second, cause the kid to keel over in pain. The blond haired body would the violently flail his head upward to slam it into the kid's face as he stood.
He ignored the blood in his hair, watching as the kid cupped his junk in one hand and his nose in the other. Those grey hues snapped toward the third, but it was apparent that one didn't want to fight. Like a coward, he swore and turned to high-tail it out of the cafeteria.
Deacon was trying to make a statement now. He burst forward and leap, lifted and pointing his knees forward as they collided with the third's back, his right elbow following suit to crash against his head. He would land upon the kid, sliding to a halt before punching his two more times in the head.
He would stand, shaking his hands out for a brief moment before he glance about his surroundings. Some cheered, some jeered and others remained silent, watching. He wouldn't say anything. Not yet anyways. Instead, he began to shuffle back toward his lunch table, giving a nod to the kid he had helped out.
After moving back to grab at his drink that had nearly been spilt before hand, he would take a sip and wipe at that crimson liquid he could feel in his hair. After which he would turn and call out, speaking to everyone and no one specific all at once. "My name is Deacon Graves.. And I'm going to be your new School Captain."
His words didn't seem to come out as if he was trying to gain the title. They seemed to insinuate that he already had it now. Of course, who knew if the outcome would change or not. Would someone try to take the chance to claim it for themselves? Deacon remain silent, waiting to see if the answer would come.
Behind him he could hear a few kids poking fun at another. As much as he hated that kind of thing, he had been trying to ignore it because he hadn't been here for more than a few days and he wasn't trying to find trouble. But it was likely unavoidable, because he soon felt something collide with his back-side.
"Really!? What the h-" He stopped speaking when he realized thst it was the one being bullied that had been thrown into him. Having shifted in his seat, throwing his leg over the bench seat, Deacon would stand and then extend a hand toward the student to help him up while he apologized. "Forget about it. Wasn't your fault."
"Oooh look, he has a boyfriend! I knew he was a little fag!"
"Hahaa, what a little bitch! Maybe we should fuck em both up?"
"Yeaa! Lets kick their asses!
The three bullies came forward slow amd Deacon's left arm would extend to the side and push the other kid back forcefully, hoping he got the hint to stay out of it. "..Well. Looks like I've got no choice in the matter. Guess I'm going to have to drop all three of you shitbags." His words were stern and there was an aura of confidence about the grey eyed body as he prepared himself for the assault. He had been in this position before at his old school, sometimes the outcome had been good, other times not so great. Deacon couldn't allow himself to back down now.
Instead of rushing to fight all three at once, he stayed in position and simply shifted his left leg forward, tended and bent his left arm up, and folded his right fist up closer toward his chin. The first rushed in with a slow, wide arcing right haymaker. The grey eyed boy was no stranger to fighting. His left arm snapped upward as his fist and forearm straightened up vertically and he brought it against the inside of the attack, his already prepped right hand would thrust forward, driving his knuckles into the first's throat.
He continued to hold position amidsts the gurgling sound the first made and the swearing from from his friends as they came in. They were body going toward his sides, the one on the left throwing the first punch. Deacon would weave out of the way, but his friend ended up booting him in his other side, forcing Deacon to loose balance and fall toward his left.
Tucking his head and shoulder, he would hit the ground and roll into a crouched position, gritting his teeth as he worked to relocate his assailants. The second, who initially miased him was the closest and just happened to be stepping in.
Deacon would lash out from his lowered position, two swift straights embedding themselves into the groin of the second, cause the kid to keel over in pain. The blond haired body would the violently flail his head upward to slam it into the kid's face as he stood.
He ignored the blood in his hair, watching as the kid cupped his junk in one hand and his nose in the other. Those grey hues snapped toward the third, but it was apparent that one didn't want to fight. Like a coward, he swore and turned to high-tail it out of the cafeteria.
Deacon was trying to make a statement now. He burst forward and leap, lifted and pointing his knees forward as they collided with the third's back, his right elbow following suit to crash against his head. He would land upon the kid, sliding to a halt before punching his two more times in the head.
He would stand, shaking his hands out for a brief moment before he glance about his surroundings. Some cheered, some jeered and others remained silent, watching. He wouldn't say anything. Not yet anyways. Instead, he began to shuffle back toward his lunch table, giving a nod to the kid he had helped out.
After moving back to grab at his drink that had nearly been spilt before hand, he would take a sip and wipe at that crimson liquid he could feel in his hair. After which he would turn and call out, speaking to everyone and no one specific all at once. "My name is Deacon Graves.. And I'm going to be your new School Captain."
His words didn't seem to come out as if he was trying to gain the title. They seemed to insinuate that he already had it now. Of course, who knew if the outcome would change or not. Would someone try to take the chance to claim it for themselves? Deacon remain silent, waiting to see if the answer would come.
