003-EVENT School's A Breeze

[FATE]

[atrb=cellpadding,30,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background:url(http://dl.dropbox.com/u/15865368/nd/00009k2x.png);width:350px;border:1px solid #dfdfdf;border-radius:60px;] 003 EVENT THREAD REQUIREMENTS

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So this event thread is a little more hands on. Now keep in mind that this Event thread requires you to be really resourceful as an Rper. You will have to use your creativity to survive as Fate has a very hands on role in this one! We will be taking EIGHT people and they can be ANYONE as long as they MUST not have any other active threads past the time stamp, Your character CANNOT be any other event threads and also must be accepted. Please make a note of which number you want. This number determines a lot about your character as it changes their task and could be great or horrible! Numbers between 1 and 8 and no repeating number! First come first serve! Also please pay attention to fate's posts as there will be details you must pick up on or follow instruction.

SCENARIO

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DATE ○ Friday September Sixteenth
TIME ○ Around four o clock in the afternoon.
WEATHER ○ The weather is rather normal for this time of year. The sun is out and casts a small warm glow on everything. There is a strong wind but it is nothing too out of the ordinary.

The hallways of Elm Brook High school seem deserted as the elegant clean hallways have been empty for what seems like hours. All faculty and students have gone home after a long day of school. The wind seems to be picking up speed as the feeling of something watching you seems to be creeping underneath your skin. It is no surprise that the seemingly safe walls of the high school seem to almost invite people in. Sadly this is far from the truth. Upon entering the school you notice that there is a very bad feeling in the very air.

TASK

I know the scenario doesn't really give you much to work on but I promise it makes more sense as you go on. As I said earlier Fate does have a more active role in this event and because of this your tasks are usually a bit harder to accomplish. The task is a bit different than normal since you really don't know what to expect. Again, you must pick a number from 1-8 in your posts. These numbers will determine lots of things for your characters as your tasks may be different based on you numbers. Just a general overview of what the task is for everybody, survive! Be creative with your reasons for being in the school. Based on your numbers you pick your task will change.

Huge hint as many people may have guessed. There is an elemental in the building, use your numbers against it. 8 against 1. Use those numbers to your advantage.
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table made by greyson of ote

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[WILLIS HAILDEN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/LoKpA.jpg][atrb=style, border-radius: 25px; border: 1px dashed #cbcbcb; padding: 10px; color: #a1a1a1;][style=background-image: url('http://i.imgur.com/qvttS.png'); border-radius: 15px; border: 1px dotted #cbcbcb; padding: 10px; width: 100px; float:left; margin-right: -3px;][/style][style=font-size: 30px; color: #d3d3d3; font-family: Arial; margin: 45px 0px 0px -4px;]►[/style][style=float: right; text-align: center; font-size: 28px; font-family: arial narrow; letter-spacing: -2px; color: #656565; margin: -35px 10px 0px 5px;]this is the point of no return[/style][style=float: right; text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: -1px; color: #a5a5a5; margin: -10px 10px 0px 0px;]WE LOSE WITH HEARTBREAK OVERWHELMING[/style] [style=font-size: 10px; font-family: Arial; color: #656565; padding: 10px; text-align: justify; border-right: 4px solid #dcdcdc; text-transform: none;]Willis breathed in deep and let the air out in a slow, calming exhale. At least, he had hoped it to be calming. Beyond the relatively emotionless facade, his insides were churning with endless questions buffeting his chaotic state of mind. It was... a stark contrast to the ambiance that now dominated the grounds of his school. Sweat beaded like tiny pearls on his forehead as he lay sprawled on the track field. Now, what was he doing here, you ask? "Running," the youth muttered under his breath. He'd excused himself from work the last few days, with the reason that he needed to work on his momentum after a lengthy summer break. His father, an ex-sportsman himself, gave him the week off without hesitance. In reality though, Willis simply needed to get 'away from it all' for a while, so to speak. The school term had barely begun, yet so much had happened already. He thought about the incident at Chinatown. The bizarre happenings had been playing over and over in his head despite his efforts to shift his thoughts. It wasn't that he wanted to forget. Not when he realized the impact it had on him; that for the first time in his life, he found himself able to consider other things besides the sibling rivalry he, James and Julia had going. It was just that the constant playback was starting to get a little... distracting. More than once, he found himself looking over his shoulder or out the corner of his eyes spontaneously, expecting to see some figure-less shadow ready to pounce on him. Rather than building momentum (because God knows free-running kept it on the high-side regardless), running was his way of clearing his mind. Just as it had always been. Only... it didn't seem to be working very well at the moment. He felt a nudge on the back of his hand. Pressing his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, he peered towards the source of intrusion. "Arthur," he muttered fondly, a slight grin gracing his face. Even in the brightness of the four o'clock sun, Arthur's fur retained its pinkish hue. The small kitten, like the (magical) magnifying glass he had in his pant pocket, had been a souvenir from the traumatic event in Chinatown. The mute feline had since been his constant companion (since he needed to keep him hidden from his family members). Although it had only been a few days, Willis had grown fairly attached to the (mercifully) travel-sized kitten. The teen heaved himself off the padded ground. Scooping the kitten up as he stood, he proceeded towards his gym back. He sighed. The school was likely the only place he felt marginally safe anymore. There were no siblings to taunt him; no society elites to judge him or to compare him with said siblings; and most definitely, there were no ghosties (or shadows) attempting to burn him alive. The shadow had fled the moment Willis and his companions burst through the door. That, he reckoned after days pf pondering, probably meant that it didn't fancy places filled with lots of people. Sadly though, it was getting late, and likely time for Willis Hailden to reunite himself with his problematic world. Picking up his things, the youth strode off in the direction of the school entrance. [/style][style=font-size: 10px; font-family: Arial; color: #656565; padding: 3px; text-align: right; border-right: 4px solid #dcdcdc; margin-bottom: 1px; text-transform: none; line-height: 10px;]TAGGED • fate     WORDS • ##     MUSIC • here NOTES • I'm number 7. Oh, the irony... coded by lovesolfege of ote![/style]

[RAYNA KELLER]

 

With coffee in hand Rayna allowed herself to sigh out loud while Lukas read today's job. "Ugh, another sneaking mission? Why does it say that I have to tag along as well?" She waited for an answer before she got up from her seat and kicked her chair back. Lukas had explained that they weren't the only ones after some student records, just hearing that there might be a chance for violence was all Rayna needed. "Well now If that is how it is lets go, no time like the now!" For once Rayna couldn't be more right, this wasn't a job that could be kept until night time. Going during the day time meant that there was little chance of them running into many people. After all by the time they reached the school it would be after four, the halls would be empty and the night guards wouldn't be there yet. If there was any.

"Yea no problem." Rayna responded when Lukas make a statement on how she should go ahead, probably check out the area while she was there. Rayna was all well and good with leaving, she grabbed her massager bag and suit case. Already packed she finished her coffee and headed out the door, down the stairs and out the back of the coffee shop. With nothing else to do she revved her red ducati 916 bike and hit the gas off on her way uptown. Boy did she love to ride her bike, she knew the streets better then some street racers. She knew the timing of every red light and streets didn't even have a light system.

She passed a few of her favorite shopping spots but she didn't stop, this was for a job after all, there was not time to be stopping. She circled the school twice before making sure that there was no one that fit the look of the opposing mob she made a turn towards the side entrance. Sliding her bike into an open parking space she made sure to pick a spot that was away from the main entrance, after all this was meant to be an in and out job. She took off her red helmet and placed it on the bike's handle then she pushed out the kick stand and hopped off her bike. She knew Lukas wouldn't be long but since she was the one with the bike it made sense for her to go first.

While waiting for Lukas she checked her stuff, under her jacket she had a hidden gun strap. She has a Stechkin APS on her right, a gun that can hold a good 20 rounds. Pulling out a strap from her bag and wrapped it around her left hip, letting it ride low and placed her HK 45, a smaller gun with only 10 rounds. She kept any extra clips in her pocket. Unlike Lukas, Rayna could care little to anyone seeing her guns, she had a permit for it either way. She made sure her suit case was slid under her bike, inside was her favorite sniper rifle. She didn't have a reason to take it in with her but having it near the bike was something she normally did. She checked to back door, of course it was locked, but she made easy work of it. Now all she had to do was wait for Lukas.

The man didn't take long at all, once the car drove up Rayna fold her arms over her chest and waited for Lukas to walk over. "I didn't see anyone from the Italian mob but don't keep your guard down. You go ahead to the records office and I'll stick to patrolling the first floor." They had a quick chat and Rayna received her head set from Lukas. Of course he would be the one not to forget them, after all Lukas was always more prepared then her. She looked him over for a moment and with a nod she pointed to the door. "It's already unlocked."

WORDS: 671     NOTES: My number will be 6.

[LUKAS MADELEINE]

 

Lukas had decided, if they got one more dull job, he was asking for a raise. Or compensation. Something. Especially when Rayna was grumbling about it the whole time. Then again, when didn't she bitch and moan. He was just lucky he'd sent her ahead of him this time…and had proceeded to dawdle for twenty minutes or so, before making a call to one of his drivers to take him to the location the two of them were supposed to meet.

He was utterly baffled as to why they had to infiltrate a school, but he'd been told that one of their rivals, which they had turf spats with regularly, was apparently associated with this place. Apparently involved with the principle of the place, or something - it didn't matter, all he knew was that there was supposed to be blackmail-worthy material here bout them (he did have to admit, a bizarre, and fairly effective place to hide it), and he was supposed to find it. He'd also been told to watch his back for anyone that was a member of their little…rivals.

Nonetheless, he wasn't entirely intimidated. A couple of thugs against a trained killer? Piece of cake. That didn't stop him from taking his usual assortment, though - derringer at one ankle, combat knife at the other, and his usual handgun tucked under his jacket in the holster that slung across his chest, and a few extra clips at his belt as a just-in-case. That was about all he ever carried - unless he was working painfully in public,, but luckily, they had the cover of afternoon fading into evening - which meant no risks due to lack of weapons. Even if he could take down some lackeys with his bare hands, he preferred not to get blood on his clothes, thanks.

The assassin reclined in the backseat of the overly-luxurious black car, humming idly to the music and making a third scan of the paper that held his hand, noting details about their Italian counterparts who were apparently involved, and that no matter how frivolous infiltrating a school seemed, to not take it lightly, and to not go with their guard down. Blah blah, all crap he heard before, and he felt as if his prowess was being insulted at this point - like he couldn't handle a few wannabe-killers. It's not like he hadn't been doing this for seven years, or anything…

As soon as the car slid to a gentle stop, Lukas made to double-check his gun, making sure it was in perfectly functioning condition, and slid it neatly away against his chest again, stepping out of the car and into the yellow-orange glow of the sun slowly hanging lower in the sky. He immediately pulled out his familiar orange-tinted sunglasses, sliding them over his face and eyeing the area, spotting Rayna near her bike immediately. He bent to mutter to his driver for a moment, to instruct him to wait a few blocks down until he received the signal, thumping the top of the car with his palm offhandedly, and not even looking back as the sleek vehicle took off.

He was entirely unruffled by the standoffish glare thrown his way as soon as he got within range of the woman. "Ray. Chomping at the bit I see. Then again what else is new?" he greeted with a vague smile, and tossed her a small, sleek grey headset. He affixed a matching one to his left ear, paying her no mind for a minute, affixing it so the cool plastic barely reached to his jawline, before striding purposefully towards the school, trusting the woman to be right behind him. "No shooting people that don't look threatening, no jumping the gun, just sit back and make sure no one ambushes me, or the entrances, all right?" All-business in a flat second, as per usual. He made no other conversation, deftly swinging open the side doors they were using, and pushing the door open as quietly as he could.

The second he stepped foot in the building, however, something felt…off. Very off. "…Something's wrong." he immediately noted to his partner, and in a second he had one hand on his gun and was poised on the balls of his feet - it felt like something was about to jump at him from around the corner or…something. He wasn't sure. "Hold for a moment."

WORDS!: 739     NOTES!: I just know I'm screwed…I pick 5.

[CHRISTOPHER AEGIS]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,470,true][bg=444444][atrb=background,http://i875.photobucket.com/albums/ab320/luxxray/bgpattern6.png] [style=margin-right:15px;margin-left:15px;margin-top:15px; font-family: arial black; font-size: 14pt; letter-spacing:-3;line-height:8pt;padding-bottom:-10px;color:#5c6385;text-shadow: #444444 .5px .5px .5px; border-bottom:7px solid #e0e0e0;background:#efefef;text-transform:uppercase;]it seems like my eyes have been transfigured[/style][style=margin-right:15px;margin-left:15px;font-family:arial; font-size:6pt; letter-spacing: 3;line-height:7pt;color: #887261;background:#eaeaea;border-top:1px dotted #5f5043;]SOMETHING DEEP INSIDE HAS CHANGED - THEY'RE OPEN WIDE[/style][style=margin-right:15px;margin-left:15px;font-family:arial; font-size:6pt; letter-spacing: 3;background:#eaeaea;padding-bottom:10px;] [/style][style=margin-right:15px;margin-left:15px; font-size:18pt; letter-spacing:1; font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;font-weight:bold;margin-top:-20;text-shadow: #111111 .5px .5px .5px; color: #a78b71;padding-bottom:0px;border-bottom: 4px solid #aaaaaa;text-align:right;padding-right:10px;background:#eaeaea;line-height:15pt;]but hold that trigger →[/style][style=margin:15px;background:#eaeaea;border-top: 3px solid #bababa;font-size:7.5pt;text-align:justify;padding:4px 4px 10px 4px;]CHIRSTOPHER AEGIS SHIVERED AS A CHILLY BREEZE BREATHED DOWN HIS EXPOSED NECK. It was somewhat understandable, Chirstopher thought. At the very least, it wasn't unusual. After all, it was just about the end of summer, the point of time when autumn began creeping into nature. Chris thought that it was, however, unusually cold considering that it was still afternoon. But then, it might have been that his body had adjusted to the summer temperature. It was a possibility and admittedly, he very much hoped that that was the reason for the uneasy feeling he had been experiencing ever since he had stepped out of his house. It was just him, he said to himself. It was a lingering after effect of shock coming from the less than entertaining ordeal that occurred roughly a fortnight back. Christopher could hardly walk down the full length of a dim corridor without turning to look over his shoulder once or twice a few days following that event. On the bright side... wait.. what was the bright side? Well, if you were desperate for one, Christopher finally found that music sheet he was looking for back in Chinatown... in a shop on the other side of the city. Today, targeting a time that ensured that most if not all of the student body had left the school for the day, Christopher's destination was Elm Brook Highschool. It wasn't a place that he was familiar with. He had attended a different public high school that was less well known. Chris didn't know what his aim was in opting to choose a lesser known school. All he really knew was that he had experienced enough attention to last him an entire lifetime and guess what? His life had barely started. The school was pleased to have someone of a prestigious background to heighten their fame, which probably was why Christopher got away with things that others wouldn't have. Come to think of it... he might have abused that little privilege more than once or twice. But now that he was all done and graduated, no one was going to keep tabs. So, back to Elm Brook. Surprise, surprise. Did Christopher get out of the Aegis Manor before four o'clock for any other reason than for the sake of his beloved academy? So Julliard was going to host a little concert here at Elm Brook's auditorium and naturally, as the dedicated musician that he was, he opted to engage in search and reconnaissance. There were very few performers in the world that just stepped up to an alien stage and put on a show. Granted, of course Julliard would hold their own stage rehearsals at a later date but when you were there studying under the lecturers for a long enough time, you'll come to realize that even in front of the teachers, or rather especially in front of them, you were expected to perform. Or perhaps... it might have been him being paranoid again. Oh well, at least he could justify this as calming his nerves. Little did he know that upon stepping within the school compounds, that last little excuse of his would be blown out the window. Christopher froze between the gate and the exit. A sickly feeling was creeping back into him. Describing it as uncomfortable would be a crude understatement. Worst off, Christopher sort of found this feeling... familiar. There was no mistake. It was exactly like this when he had first stepped into that fortune teller's shop a few days back. Part of him screamed for him to run away, to say 'to hell with the concert', to just go home and think about anything else. However, another part of him, a significantly smaller but still existing part of him, felt drawn. If this place held the same feeling... then maybe this was connected to the incident back then? And then maybe, if he pursued this, then maybe he would unravel that unsolved mystery of who she was. He felt compelled to do it. Against all sorts of better judgement, Christopher placed a hesitant foot in front of his other. His mind was attempting to comfort himself. What were the chances that something like that would happen again? That... that was probably a once in a lifetime experience. Just how many murdering shadows did he expect to run into this month? The chances were far too slim. Lady Luck wasn't that evil... was she? Note: I pick number... *crosses fingers* 8? o.o [/style][style=margin-right:15px;margin-left:15px; margin-bottom:15px; font-size:16pt; letter-spacing: 2; font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;font-weight:bold;margin-top:-20;text-shadow: #111111 .5px .5px .5px; color: #797c8c;padding-bottom:0px;border-bottom: 4px solid #aaaaaa;text-align:left;padding-left:10px;background:#eaeaea;line-height:10pt;]this could mean danger ←[/style][style=margin-right:15px;margin-left:15px;font-family:arial; font-size:6pt; letter-spacing: 3;line-height:7pt;color: #887261;background:#eaeaea;border-top:1px dotted #5f5043;border-bottom:1px solid #5f5043;]POST MADE BY ASHTON OF ON THE EDGE[/style]

[lawrence]

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Lawrence daydreamed, leaving behind real life for an absolutely amazing dream. This dream, was awesome for three main reasons. His mom and dad were still married. He had a normal hair and eye color. He had a hothothot girlfriend. He shifted slightly where he slept, frowning slightly. His hoodie clad body slid to the ground, waking him as pain shot through his shoulder. "Shit!" he yelped, as his head collided with the wall of the bathroom stall he was in. Standing slowly, he rubbed the place on his head where he knew a bruise was already forming, a scowl placing itself on his lips. "Where the hell am..." he began, before trailing off as he quickly assessed his surroundings. An expression of confusion worked itself onto Law's face the moment he realized he was in the bathroom. One of the school's bathrooms, for that matter. Looking down, he spotted a small, but thick book, with a dull, sky blue cover. It was Arsenic and Old Lace. Suddenly, it dawned on him. Right after his theater class had ended, he had dashed to the bathroom to look over the play. He had been assigned as Jonathon, the errant nephew of the two protagonists. He bent over and picked up the book, flipping through the pages, until he reached the point where his character entered the play. Deciding that the bathroom wasn't the best place to practice, he opened the stall, and the exited, looking in confusion down both ends of the empty hallway. Stuffing his hand into his back pocket, he pulled out his phone, and pressed the singular button. It lit up, displaying a childish picture of a smiley face, and the time. His eyes widened. School had ended quite some time ago. But his surprise disappeared, replaced by a carefully constructed indifference as he noticed the fact that there were no texts or calls from his mother. What was he expecting? She was as shitty with time as he was. His lips tightened, and he shoved his phone roughly back into his pocket. Who cared what that woman did? He didn't feel like answering that question. A sudden chill ran through him, and the snowy white hair on his neck raised, as a foreboding feeling pressed down on him. It passed quickly, and he sighed. First, he'd fallen asleep in the bathroom and skipped classes, and now he was imagining things. He turned to the left, striding down the hall, his vans making a soft tapping noise, that echoed through the empty building. Or at least, he thought it was empty. He went to his locker, putting in the combination with a practiced hand, and retrieved his backpack, and stuffed his script, and some homework into it. Slinging the dark colored backpack over one shoulder, Lawrence began to make his way towards the nearest exit, which was, as far as he could remember, quite some distance away. Cursing under his breath, he began to jog.

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Edit: I forgot to pick a number! Anyway, I choose... number one?

[ladymander1]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h99/houndoomXdelta/de.png); width: 1000px; -moz-border-radius: 20px 20px 20px 20px; border-radius: 20px 20px 20px 20px; border: 1px dashed #000000][style=font-family: arial black; color: #c5c590; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 5px; margin-bottom: -15px; text-align: center;]it’s almost like Your Heaven’s trying EVERYTHING[/style][style=font-family: arial black; color: #efefc6; font-size: 40px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -3px]to keep me out[/style] [style=font-family: arial black; color: #efefc6; font-size: 9px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; margin-top: -25px; letter-spacing: 8px; text-shadow: 1px 0px 0px #000000, 1px 1px 0px #000000, -1px 0px 0px #000000, 0px 1px 0px #000000, -1px 1px 0px #000000, 0px -1px 0px #000000;]and it’s almost like Your Heaven’s trying EVERYTHING to Break me Down [/style][style=font-family: arial black; color: #c5c590; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 5px; margin-top: -5px; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 10px]♥ ♥ ♥[/style] [style=font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; background-color: #000000; text-align: justify; margin-top: 5px; color: #464646]♙words : 777; ♙tags: NEXT JOINER; ♙lyrics: Far from Home by Five Finger Death Punch;[/style][style=background-color: #414141; color: #000000; padding: 2px; padding-left: 5px; width: 450px; margin-top: 5px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 11px; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; text-align: justify; letters-spacing: 2px;]Another Day in this Carnival of Souls[/style][style=background-color: #111111; padding: 5px; width: 448px; opacity: 0.7; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; color: #5b5b5b;] It always amazed Cameron how casually the scene seemed to change as he headed from the West End to Uptown. The housing seemed to gradually shift from symptoms of urban decay to the proof of improving civilization as he drove across the city. Cracked sidewalks in front of decrepit apartment complexes shifted to freshly mowed lawns surrounding large brick houses with high fences and fancy mailboxes. The ambience in the air became less and less threatening as the population moved from noisy teenagers, alleged gang members, and stray mutts suffering from mange to men in business suits, women with jogging strollers, and well-groomed dogs with impressive pedigrees. Cameron’s mood seemed to steadily grow more and more uneasy, much like the gradual change of the scenery around him. The sinking feeling in his gut grew more apparent with every passing minute. Today would be the first time in four years Cameron has set foot in his adoptive parents’ house. His youngest sister’s birthday was today, and she has personally called to invite him to the “celebration.” Maria had always been his closest sibling, not only in age, but also in companionship. The way she pleaded with him on the phone to join the rest of the family in a good-natured gathering suggested she was just as tired as he was of his familial estrangement. Cameron and his father hadn’t spoken since Cameron dropped out of school his junior year, his two older siblings seemed to have more important things on their agenda than associate with their wayward brother, and his mother drops by his apartment once every few weeks/months to check on him (despite the objections of his father). Cameron wasn’t even sure if Maria had actually informed the rest of his family he was coming, hence where his apprehension was radiating. Cameron tapped his fingers impatiently as he waited for the light to turn green. His radio was turned up too loud, Godsmack blaring through the speakers in an effort to drown the maelstrom of anxious thoughts swirling in his mind. In the distance on the left side of the road, he could see a billboard with his former high school’s name printed across the top in large block letters. The announcement below advertised a PTA meeting on the 19th of September. Cameron let out an audible sigh as the light before him turned green. Now that he was able to continue forward, he hesitated, knowing once he passed the school, his parent’ house would literally be two blocks around the corner to the right. He could already envision the shock and rage in his father’s eyes as soon as Cameron’s little red ’93 Mustang pulled up in front of the house. A silver BMW behind Cameron honked its horn, forcing him out of his temporary stupor. He gave the driver and not-so-polite gesture through the back seat window as he pressed the gas pedal. Suddenly, Cameron knew he didn’t have the strength to face his family. He had neither the tolerance to listen to his father’s bullshit once he got there nor the patience to sit in his family’s company as if nothing was wrong. Everyone, including Cameron, would have a better time if he didn’t show up. He turned left, pulling into the high school’s parking lot with the intention of turning around and going back home. Elm Brook loomed over him like a haunting memory, although most of his high school memories didn’t actually involve the school. He was absent more times than he actually showed up, having better things to do than sit through boring lessons for eight hours. Cameron parked for a moment, turning down the deafening radio and pulling the keys from the ignition. He ran both hands through his already untamed mass of hair, trying to quell his uncertainty. Maria was sure to call him later and chew his ass out for bailing; perhaps he could come up with some sort of excuse – flat tire, dead battery, or whatever. He let himself out of the car, tucking his keys in his back pocket with his wallet and pulling out a pack of Marlboros. As he enjoyed the rush of nicotine flowing freely through his system, Cameron didn’t notice the man and woman on the other side of the parking lot. Little did he know that his merciless uneasiness was due less to his looming meeting with his estranged family and more to the strange atmosphere permeating about the school yard. Facing the road in front of the school, Cameron leaned his back against the driver side door of his car, the smoke from his cigarette billowing away with the breeze. [/style][style=background-color: #414141; color: #000000; padding: 2px; padding-right: 5px; width: 450px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 11px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 10px 10px; border-radius: 0px 0px 10px 10px; text-align: right; letters-spacing: 2px;]Another Night Settles in as Quickly as it Goes[/style][style=font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; background-color: #000000; text-align: center; margin-top: 5px; color: #464646]♙notes: And so it begins… PS. I choose NUMBER 3![/style]credit to gREY of OTE

[CHRISTIAN ORIAS]

[style=font-family: impact; font-size: 35px; letter-spacing: -2px; color: #536396; margin-bottom: -9px; margin-right: -12px ;]i know you're coming back down[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][cs=2][atrb=style, background: url(http://spanishregistrations.com/ESW/Images/white.png); width: 300px; height: 375px; border: 20px solid #536396, bTable; ] [tr][atrb=style, width: 30px; vertical-align: top;][style= border: 8px solid #446495; width: 100px; opacity: 0.9; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: -30px; ][/style] [style=background-color:#536396; font-size:10px; line-height:20px; text-align:center; width:110px; margin-top:-10px; padding-right:3px; border-top: 3px solid #536396; border-bottom: 3px solid #536396; opacity: 0.6; color: FFFFFF]WORDS HERE count for me.[/style] [style=background-color:#536396; font-size:10px; line-height:20px; text-align:center; width:110px; margin-top:-10px; padding-right:3px; border-top: 3px solid #536396; border-bottom: 3px solid #536396; opacity: 0.6; color: FFFFFF]TAGS HERE lotsa people[/style] [style=background-color:#536396; font-size:10px; line-height:20px; text-align:center; width:110px; margin-top:-10px; padding-right:3px; border-top: 3px solid #536396; border-bottom: 3px solid #536396; opacity: 0.6; color: FFFFFF]NOTES HERE no. 2. how’ll I handle this?[/style]

[atrb=style, background: #536396; padding: 8px; border-top: 3px solid #536396; width: 20px; border-bottom: 3px solid #536396; opacity: 0.9; height: 150px; ][style=height: 350px; font: 10px Tahoma; padding-right: 10px; text-align: justify; width: 200px; color: FFFFFF; overflow: auto; ]What was he doing here? Honestly, Christian could not answer that right now. There was no reason for him to be here – and yet he couldn’t just classify this as randomly showing up, being just aware of his surrounding at this precise moment for wandering around before. No, he couldn’t pass it off as that any longer – another time and he’s be ruled as a dimwit with a mind that couldn’t focus – something that he most certainly would not like to be ruled out as. But until then, his whereabouts at this moment couldn’t be traced from his mindset. All he really knew was that, at the moment, he was at his former high school. Elm Brooke. Well, wasn’t that nice? Nearly three years since he had last stepped foot into this high school, full of gossip, drama, and things he couldn’t care less about. He barely ever had time to hang out with friends, so by no means could he have excelled in the social scene during his high school years. And now he was on to bigger and better things. Most of the people in this school were successful, most likely due to their heritage and how much money their household had pulled in. Weren’t they just lucky bastards – born into luxury? But he shouldn’t be a hypocrite, he had experienced it once or twice within in his life, and he must say, living in luxury was sweet. But spoiling yourself on it was far from intelligent. But living life in comfort wasn’t so bad, was it? It honestly couldn’t be, could it? Being in comfort was what people strived for – what was the point otherwise? Leading a comfortable life – getting a comfortable salary. Of course, the comfort he was talking about was physical comfort – like sitting down on a couch and feeling comfort. Being plain lazy. Too much of it could cause laziness – and a person might just grow so used to it there was no point anymore, was there? Comfort was a fine thing, really, it was, but it could ruin your image, your figure, your moralities and beliefs if comfort really dug that far into your life. But Christian never experienced this, and he would sure as hell avoid it the best he could. Christian, on a whole new subject, tried to trace how his mind had gotten from Elm Brooke High to Comfort. Neither of these really fit well together, as when did High School ever amount to being comfortable? However he was able to successfully find the root of it – it wasn’t hard to trace at all and it only jumped from Elm Brooke to lazy, spoiled teenagers and then to comfort. Well, his mindset wasn’t difficult to understand, at least. No getting lost in that straightforward thinking. Seeing as he was already at Elm Brooke, and it being only four, he decided to go see if anyone was in there. And get out of the strong wind – hopefully it would die down by the time he would get out. But seeing his chances as bleak he decided that he would be staying in his former high school until the wind died down. That was the last thing he wanted, but he didn’t sense much of a choice. And he was suddenly chilly, as though something bad were about to happen, crawling under his skin. The high school building suddenly seemed like a brilliant idea, and he was hitting himself for not thinking of one sooner instead of standing in the coldness, being of little use and little help to even himself. He might as well, anyways. He wouldn’t want to catch a cold, or anything of that sort. He needed his rest, his wits about him. Being in bed with a cold was not on his agenda, and there was no way in hell it was even going on his agenda. Or theoretical agenda. But upon entering the school he noticed something odd. Strange. Off. At least from the last time he had visited this school. How would he be able to tell if something was out of the norm? He wasn’t a student here, and things could have changed quite some much from the previous years in which Christian had gone to college. But the bad feeling he couldn’t quite shake off, so he hung onto it until some opportunity arose in him to fling it off his shoulders like a pest. Which he was, technically. Elm Brook had a bad feeling to it. Although Christian knew he should probably run for his life, and get the heck out of this place without turning back, forget about the whole eerie feeling. But you know what they said – curiosity killed the cat. Only Christian hoped that he had all nine lives intact on him. Who knows? We might actually need it.[/style]

[style=width: 200px; margin-top: -20px; margin-right: 30px; text-align: right; font-size: 9px; color: #757575]made by prism of ote and sgo~[/style]

[haiden]

[style=font-family: impact; font-size: 20px; letter-spacing: 2px; color: #000000; margin-bottom: -5px; margin-right: -100px; opacity: 0.8;]you make me feel so[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][cs=2][atrb=style, background:#FFFFFF; width: 300px; height: 500px; opacity: 0.9; border: 20px solid #000000; border-radius: 7px 7px 7px 325px, bTable; ] [tr][atrb=style, width: 30px; vertical-align: top;][style= border: 8px solid #000000; width: 100px; opacity: 0.9; margin-top: -40px; -moz-transform: rotate(-35deg); -webkit-transform: rotate(-40deg); margin-left: -30px;][/style][style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 20px; letter-spacing: -3; margin-top: 30px; line-height: 80%; text-transform: lowercase; color: #000000; text-align: right;]I'm the baddest baby in the atmosphere. Tell me what you want so we can do just what you like. [/style]

[atrb=style, background: #000000; padding: 8px; border-top: 3px solid #000000; width: 20px; border-bottom: 3px solid #000000; opacity: 0.9; ][style=height: 400px; font: 10px arial; padding-right: 10px; text-align: justify; width: 250px; color: FFFFFF; overflow: auto;]As Haiden walks along the streets, she had her head in a book, with an ebony hood hiding her face. A nice walk was needed and she's been so busy with her art, she had paint on her hoodie, led markings on her hands, and a camera wrapped around her neck. Being who she was, there might be a nice chance for a nice picture to be taken and another five bucks would be made. Like that will get her a car. Besides, she prefers the natural way: walking with a book blocking her path. Then she sees the Elm Brooke High School and does a small sigh. A friend of her's (who is no longer a friend) said they'd do everything at that school. Boy was she wrong. There goes their brotherly relationship. Maybe she'll find a new brother of her own, someone who doesn't mind that she's locked in her apartment all weekend drawing like the world would end if she stopped. Also, it'd be a nice chance to see if any progress has been made inside. So she seals her book closed after putting a bookmark she painted inside. Then hides it in her bag with a water sign on it. She walks in cautiously and checks the door, seeing if it was locked. Fortunately it wasn't, so she walks in slowly. If she were a dog, her tail would be between her legs, expecting a monster to jump from the lockers. A nice idea sparks in her mind as she walks towards the lockers. Since no one was around, she pulls out her camera and stands in front of the ugly-coated lockers. Being the kind of girl she is, everything should be remembered. So she takes a few pictures of herself, seeing as no other photographers would even think of taking a picture of a girl like her. Some were normal, but then she stuck her tongue out, and did her tilted peace sign, and the last on was her lying on the ground. "I'd say these are wall worthy." Haidne does a small giggle, but her small smile fades as she leans on the wall. A soft breeze tingled inside her body and looks at the entrance. Hopefully it was just that boy who just came in and not something else... notes: four I guess. don't have any other choice do I? [/style]

[style=width: 200px; margin-top: -20px; margin-right: 30px; text-align: right; font-size: 9px; color: #757575;]made by prism of ote and sgo~[/style]

[FATE]

[atrb=cellpadding,30,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background:url(http://dl.dropbox.com/u/15865368/nd/00009k2x.png);width:350px;border:1px solid #dfdfdf;border-radius:60px;] 003 EVENT THREAD As the last person makes their way onto the premises of the school, a strong wind passes throughout the entire building, drawing in those who linger outside of the school's doors. With everyone inside, little clicks reverberate throughout the hallways, locking everyone in. Soon after, a shrill cry echoes through the building from an unknown source while an odd gust of wind passes. After the strong wind dies down a notch, the floor slowly trembles and begins to crack ever so slightly. The quivering ceases and another blow of wind occurs, knocking down objects as it passes through. It seems only natural that the wind grows in strength, strongly beckoning the occupants to follow the wind current to the school's gymnasium. It would seem that staying in the hallways and entering the classrooms would be detrimental to one's safety right now. Upon entering the gymnasium, everything seems to be relatively normal save for the fact that the place is suddenly filled with various people. There were bleachers, various doors, and the cliche objects one finds in a gym. Out of nowhere, a strong whirlwind wanders through gym and an odd individual appears; it seems the ominous wind is emanating from this male. Malicious and annoyed intent is evident in the male's eyes as the gym starts to vibrate violently, knocking down the surrounding objects. A large splitting noise rings through the gym as dust falls from the ceiling, only to be followed by panels of paint and brick. The ceiling collapses, causing the inhabitants of the gym to be ripped into groups. And upon inspection, it seems that the estranged male is still standing there with a deadly look painted on his features. Obviously, it is no longer safe and the only option for both groups is to run by leaving through the doors on their respective sides in order to get out of the school. However, it doesn't mean that they will escape this male. This event shall be split up into two groups according to the number you have chosen. Posting shall continue when part A and part B of the event are posted up. Until then, posting in this thread as has ceased. table made by greyson of ote