A Dad RP Persona: Philosophy of Man [IC/PG-16/No Longer Accepting]

[Dad]

Many Faces

 

       This early morning was very eventful.  The Eyes lay upon Reno, unjudging, and only to observe.  Something was troubling the young man.  There came a vicious yell and the sound of fleeing footsteps.  And then, the Eyes were gone.

 

 

Ivan the Terrible

 

 

 

FROM:  Tyler

 

TIME:  8:15 A.M.

 

 

 

sure. club after class? also you got names? wanna talk to ‘em.

 

 

FROM: Nathan

TIME: 9:15 a.m.

 

Yeah, I got some names.  Matt and Zach Yusef.  Ivan's two double trouble flunkies for this semester.  I'll see you at the club meeting.

 

Nathan chuckled silently to himself in the halls.  Talk, huh?  Personally, he would've wanted revenge on those two.  And that was the truth.  If they had the balls to take orders from Ivan blindly, then they had the balls to accept the punishment.  Right?

 

"Yo!" Nathan called out to Hensley who was fleeing Trigonometry.  "When did you change classes!?  What's the rush!?"

 

Hensley stopped and turned around, jogging back to Nathan.  "We should talk."

 

"Sure.  We can talk after school at the club meeting.  I got some new hoses I wanna check--"

 

"No, Nate.  Now.  Pulsar and her crew are still stalking me," Hensley said.  "C'mere."

 

"I thought we talked about you racing with those bastards," Nathan said as he was dragged away.

 

 "...my foster father...his eyes were l-like that shadow's. T-That's why I immediately froze yesterday." he explained. "...I've...I've been holding on to that for a while now...and yet yesterday's encounter forced me to remember that image..."

 

Paul listened intently to Jason's story.  He had no idea Jason was dealing with an abusive step-father. 

 

"So, he's an jabroni," Paul said bluntly.  "That's what I think of him."

 

Paul leaned against the lockers behind him.  "Abusive homes are nothing to take lightly.  And if you need a place to stay, I'm sure I can convince my mom to let you crash for a while.  If nothing else, I'm sure Kev has spare room too.  You've got places you can go.  Believe that."

 

Paul shifted slightly, adjusting his bag.  "As far as that shadow goes, don't beat yourself up about it.  This is scary sheet we're dealing with.  I guess seeing that shadow's eyes shook you up.  Give yourself time.  You get yourself outta that house and keep working with me, and you'll get past that self-righteous dickhead."

 

Paul was internally fuming.  This man broke Jason's wrist.  Over a play.  There were some really shitty adults out there.  Paul's internal thoughts were broken by the ear-piercing ring of the second-period bell.  He was going to be late for Physics today.

 

"sheet.  It's been that long already?"  Paul stood up straight and fixed his backpack.  "Hit me up at lunch and let me know what you decide to do.  If you wanna crash for a while, let me know.  We'll figure something out."

 

Paul waved to Jason as he jogged off out of the building.

[Super Chaos Sonic]

 

 

What Friends Are For

 

"So, he's an jabroni. That's what I think of him."

 

This caused Jason to chuckle a bit, nodding his head lightly. "H-Heh...yeah, yeah I guess he is." he shrugged, seeing Paul leaning against the lockers now.

 

"Abusive homes are nothing to take lightly. And if you need a place to stay, I'm sure I can convince my mom to let you crash for a while. If nothing else, I'm sure Kev has spare room too. You've got places you can go. Believe that."

 

"Y-Yeah...your right..." Jason nodded, sighing a bit. "I just...I just never wanted to let anyone know this before. But, you are right Paul..."

 

"As far as that shadow goes, don't beat yourself up about it. This is scary sheet we're dealing with. I guess seeing that shadow's eyes shook you up. Give yourself time. You get yourself outta that house and keep working with me, and you'll get past that self-righteous dickhead."

 

Jason was relieved that Paul didn't think that the shadow incident was his fault. That was one thing he was hoping to hear out of this. "Well...now you know why I sorta went with the fact of you and Kev wanting me to try out for the team again to get out the house." he admitted, chuckling lightly. "Guess...if Friday comes around and I'm in again, then between that, the Video Game Club, and our...'excursions' will definitely keep me busy."

 

Of course, the conversations were cut short as the second period bell rung loudly.

 

"sheet. It's been that long already? Hit me up at lunch and let me know what you decide to do. If you wanna crash for a while, let me know. We'll figure something out."

 

"Alright. Thanks Paul..." Jason smiled some, before adjusting his bag, waving to Paul and proceeded to his second period class: Sociology.

 

 

Human Societies and How They Work

 

Jason made it into his Sociology class, sitting down immediately just as the teacher walked in. Mr. Ligon, an older, sort of heavy set gentleman with soft curly white hair around the sides of his head and a bald spot. The guy was really nice and had a kind spirit about him, least from Jason could get a read on.

 

"Mr. Garrett!"

 

Unfortunately, Jason was in his own little world there for a moment, as he rubbed the back of his head slightly. "I-I'm sorry Mr. Ligon. Do you think you could repeat the question? I...wasn't paying attention." He watched Ligon sigh slightly but proceeded to repeat the question regardless.

 

"How is the abundance of fast food chains impacting the American family's relationship with one another? And would you say restaurants have taken the place of society's place of a home cooked meal? Why or why not?"

 

This actually had Jason think about this a bit, as he took a deep breath as he tried to collect his thoughts to answer this. Once his thoughts were collected, he spoke.

 

"Well...um...truthfully I say it's a different answer given who you ask." he started, tapping his pencil's eraser on his book lightly. "I mean, for me specifically...being home to have a home cooked meal is a lot better than the restaurant. The atmosphere is a quiet one with not a whole lot of noise around, you can talk without having to yell..." Jason mentally paused at that, knowing that was something his own place would have regardless, but he didn't want to think about that now. "...and the setting is a familiar one, which...I guess would mean more people would get comfortable. A-Again, that's just me personally. I-In regards to the question...it's been really impacting, since if you look at things now, the advertisers for more fast food chains actually have been trying to convince families that the consumption of food and the like at home could easily be re-created, re-captured, re-claimed, and re-produced in this manner."

 

"Good answer Mr. Garett. In truth, fast food chains have a different affect on different American families. From Native Americans to African Americans, Irish Americans, and so on, each family is impacted differently. However, as we take a closer look..."

 

This made Jason smile slightly. At the end of it all, he felt a bit smarter for answering the question correctly.

[radio414]

[Theme - Hayden’s Symphony No. 94]

From: (504)555-6942

To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084
Hey someone ask me if I hate trih
*trig

From: (504)555-8213
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-2084
Hey Megan do you hate trig?

From: (504)555-6942
To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084
Thanks for asking bea
Golly gee do I hate trig

From: (504)555-2084
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213 

"Golly gee?"

From: (504)555-6942
To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084
Like really hate it
Stfu Tommy I’m still talking
Get this
Teach starts every class
And I mean every class
With a new icebreaker
Like jfc

From: (504)555-8213
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-2084
Lol wow

From: (504)555-6942
To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084
Today’s was
Out of anyone in history
Who would you want to have dinner with?

From: (504)555-2084
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213 

I dun

In one moment, Thomasin had been finishing up her between-class routine, slamming the locker door behind her with a satisfying *CLANG* that seemed to both radiate throughout the hallway and be drowned out by the dozen or so other *CLANG*s doing the exact same thing. In the next moment, she had stepped to the side, taking a moment from zipping her backpack up all the way to respond to Megan’s “thought-provoking” question.

And in the moment immediately after, she found herself sprawled on the ground, the notebooks she had so hastily shoved into her bag moments before having flown out even further than she had. And she had flown pretty far! It wasn’t quite a comical length or anything but it was certainly the distance one would expect when one person didn’t watch where they were going and the other person was a head shorter.

“Sorry about that.”

Well, at least he was courteous enough to hang around and gawk at her misery, looking at her from his “how’s-the-weather-up-there” height as she shuffled around on all fours trying to get her notebooks and loose papers back into her bag in the totally-not-made-up system she had going on in there. She also had to deal with fixing the half-message she’d just sent out.

From: (504)555-2084
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213 

*I dunno, Jesus?

When Thomasin looked back up the first thing she noticed was the hand reaching out to her. So that was why he was still around. She almost felt bad assuming he’d just been staring at her, though she didn’t feel bad enough to let that take the ever-so-slight edge off her voice as she mumbled, “Thanks,” even as she took the hand and let herself be pulled back to her feet.

She almost said, “Just watch where you’re going next time,” but managed to catch herself (for once!), the sight of his other, bandaged hand giving her just enough pause to reconsider. She only managed to stop at “Just watch-” though, which was more than a little awkward.

The correct pivot, she decided, was to ignore the errant remark entirely. “You’re Reno, right?” she said. Maybe Kelsey had had the right idea, calling names out for attendance. He certainly was hard to forget once you put the name to the face.

If he nodded, Thomasin didn’t notice. He certainly didn’t say anything more than an affirmative grunt.

“Okay,” said Thomasin. “Um, I’m going this way, so I don’t want to say, ‘See you around,’ if you’re just going to follow me.” She started to say more, but her phone started buzzing again.

 

From: (504)555-8213
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-2084
Yeah idk I guess Jesus too

From: (504)555-6942
To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084
Yeah just about everybody said Jesus

Thomasin looked back at Reno. “Hey, maybe if you follow me we can work on your conversation, too,” she said. “But yeah, I do need to go this way, though.”

[a bad post]

8/29

Wednesday, Morning

Hot and Humid

 

The day was warm and muggy and Quinn felt miserable... well it wasn't just the weather that had Quinn feeling miserable. Locking himself in his room left him very little to do but be alone with his thoughts. Within 24 hours he had managed to drive himself stir crazy and had slept very poorly the previous night. He'd gone through most of the day nearly completely silent, doing his best to focus on his school work and keep his mind off of the recent frustration and stress that he had been dealing with. 

 

His day was finally almost finished with his dumb computer science class, however, so close to the end this class seemed to drag on for ages. About 30 minutes into class Quinn found his eyes unfocusing on his computer screen and he stared into space. It was so wildly hard to care about his class... he only took it because it would look good on his transcript. 

 

Does it even matter though? Quinn sighed and focused somewhat back on the lesson, thankful for the fact that the computers hid their faces from the eyes of the instructor saving him from the embarrassment of being called out for not paying attention. That being said he still wasn't paying much attention anyway, the instructor's words going in one ear and out the other.

 

Resting his head his hands Quinn looked across the room and raised his eyebrows as his eyes rested on...

 

What was his name again? Peter? Patrick? No... Percy? That wasn't right either. Phillip? Further away. It didn't really matter. He was the kid from Kevin's party, and more importantly the kid that had pissed Quinn the funk off. Thinking back on it was kind of silly for Quinn to have launched into such a wild tirade. Not exactly my proudest moment. Blowing out a deep sigh Quinn pursed his lips staring and the kid, well not really a kid, he was older than Quinn, but well whatever that was probably a bit of Quinn's own narcissism. Well, whatever.

 

----

 

When the class had ended as people filtered out of the class Quinn approached the other guy tugging on his sleeve. 

 

"Hey... uh..." Quinn paused unable to look at the other boy in the eye. "Um, wouldyouwalkhomewithme? I really wanted to talk to you about... you know... last week..."

[Dad]

Tension

 

"So what's the deal, Hensley?" Nathan asked beneath the stairs of the second floor.  "It's been a year.  You still messing with them?"  He folded his arms.

 

Hensley shook her head.  "No.  I told you I wouldn't.  I meant that.  But they won't let me go.  I won slips for them.  I got them a lot of attention.  Then I walked.  You can imagine how they feel about that.  And now you wanna put a crew together.  Word got out, I'm assuming."

 

Nathan leaned against the wall.  "And I guess they're not too happy to have their star driver stolen from them.  Let alone possibly competing against them."

 

Hensley nodded.  "They've been trying to get me to get on Tyler's good side to flip him to their team.  Not that Tyler would even hear that kinda sheet but they showed up to my school."

 

"That makes them dangerous.  Or at least, intimidating," Nathan added.  "Did you talk to campus police?"

 

Hensley widened her eyes, staring Nathan in the face.  "Are you crazy?  What am I supposed to tell them?  'I race illegally and my former also illegally racing street partners are out to get me'?  'Cause, y'know, I really need more drama right now," Hensley said, throwing up her hands.  "Damn semester just started and I'm already in sheet."

 

Nathan rubbed his chin.  "What were their names again?" Nathan asked.  "Their legal names."

 

Hensley shrugged.  "I only have one and that's for one of Pulsar's girls."

 

"Text it to me.  I think my father might be able to help here, without getting you in trouble.  At least, for a while," Nathan said.

 

"Really!?" Hensley shouted.  She quickly clasped her hand over her mouth.

 

Nathan chuckled.  "Yeah, really.  Send me that name."  He tried to maneuver around Hensley to run to his next class.  "Gotta run--mmph!"

 

She quickly kissed him on the lips.  "Thanks."  Hensley ran out of the building with her phone in her hands, jogging to her next class.  A security guard could be heard hollering at her.  "Put that phone away!"

 

Nathan shook his head and took off in the opposite direction.

 

 

By the By

 

      Computer Science went by dreadfully slow.  The day Paul was interested in Javascript would be the day he gave up the hopes of ever exploring Amanda's curves.  It wasn't happening.  When the bell rang, Paul practically leaped out of his seat and packed his bag.  He couldn't wait to get out of those doors.

 

 

Like a breath of fresh air, Paul stepped into the halls outside of the Computer Science classroom.  He forced himself to stretch and boy, did it feel great.  Then, Paul felt a sudden tug on his shirt from behind him.  Turning around, he met Quinn.

 

"Hey... uh..."

 

"Oh, hey there.  What's uh... ehem," Paul cleared his throat.  "What's up?"  Quinn never looked Paul in the eyes.  Paul didn't know Quinn well but it was pretty easy to see that something was bothering this guy.

 

 "Um, wouldyouwalkhomewithme? I really wanted to talk to you about... you know... last week..." Quinn said rather quickly.

 

Paul paused for a moment.  There was a club meeting today he shouldn't miss.  However, this might have been a good opportunity to at least make things right between himself and Quinn.  They hadn't gotten off to a great start, after all.  Paul took out his phone and began to text Amanda.  

 

 

 

To:  Amanda

From:  Paul

Time: 3:44p.m.

 

Not gonna make it today.  Got stuff to do.  Sry.  See yall later.

 

He would read whatever angry reply he got from her, later.

 

Paul finally spoke up.  "Yeah, that's no problem.  We can talk."  Paul took the lead and paced himself as he and Quinn exited the high school.

 

 

 

8/29

Wednesday, Afterschool

Humid

Beneath the Mask

 

Paul and Quinn were finally out of earshot of the main campus and hopefully any desperate gossipers.  Paul straightened his backpack on his back and started with an apology.

 

"Real quick, I just wanna say I'm sorry.  It was really uncool for me to just assume sheet and think everyone was gonna come back with me.  We all got lives and after the party and all that other crazy sheet with shadows and monsters and... well.  I'm sorry for puttin' pressure on you and stuff," Paul said, rather ineloquently. 

 

"What'd you wanna talk about?" Paul asked.

 

 

 

• Close out your day.

[Super Chaos Sonic]

 

 

Lunchtime

 

Classes seemed to drag on for Jason as he made his way to the lunchroom. He figured the best thing to do right now was find Paul. The entire time he was in class, he kept mulling what he said over and over in his mind.

 

"...if you need a place to stay, I'm sure I can convince my mom to let you crash for a while. If nothing else, I'm sure Kev has spare room too. You've got places you can go. Believe that."

 

Jason needed to find Paul right now, he had an answer now for this. Luckily, he found the young man sitting down eating his lunch and reading a book. He made his way towards the young man's table. He glanced over at what he was reading, Stephen King's 'Pet Sematary', and shuddered slightly. "Yiiiiiiikes. Pet Sematary?" he asked, sitting down. "Maaaaaaan you must be a lot more braver than I thought, if you're flipping through that book."

 

Paul sat down his old, dusty copy of the Stephen King classic. "Ha. I try to get myself spooked before Halloween rolls around. It's my favorite holiday, we're two months away, and I'm friggin' hype." Paul couldn't hide the cheesy grin on his face. "What's up hombre?" he asked finally.

 

"So you read the one with the resurrected pets and the kid? ...I would've at least thought you'd pick something better...possibly Cujo or maybe Christine." Jason chuckled, before sighing slightly. "Alright. So...I've been giving what you offered to me when we talked..."

 

"Hey it's a slow start. I'll read the creepier stuff as we get closer to Halloween," Paul commented quickly. "But, uh, yeah. What about my offer? What are you thinking?"

 

Jason took a deep breath and exhales slowly. "...we'll try this. I'll crash with you for the night and tomorrow night...since ya know, we'll be going back you know where like you said. I'll...I'll just let my mom know that I'll be staying with a friend for a couple days."

 

Paul nodded. "Then I'll make some arrangements. You get home and get your stuff after school. I'll shoot you my address and if you can't get a ride, I'll find you one."

 

"Thanks man." Jason nodded in response. "I owe ya...now if you'll excuse me...I haaaaaave to mentally prepare myself for my club meeting since I called out Monday. Ehehe, let's just say that if I end up losing some matches against the club leader, I have to write an essay about the game."

 

Paul twirled his spork around in his red beans and rice and decided against the meal. He pushed the tray to the side and stood up. "What game?" he asked as he began to walk beside Jason. They chatted for the rest of the lunch period.

 

 

MORTAL KOMBAAAAAAAAAT!!!!

 

Speaking of his club meeting, Jason finally walked in and already saw that the group was looking at him. It was obvious everyone knew...annnnnd it also didn't help that Lace was there near one of the TVs that had the selected game being prepped. He moved towards the game system and empty chair, greeting some of the group before sitting down.

 

Alright...here goes nothing... Jason took a deep breath as his right knee was bouncing up and down in a nervous motion, as he was handed the controller by Lace. The game was Mortal Kombat 10...or rather, Mortal Kombat X. He knew some of the characters and how they moved, but this would be completely new to him. "So...guess good luck?" Jason said chuckling nervously.

 

Lace rolled her neck, cracked her knuckles, and pulled out a custom fightpad from her backpack. It was decked out in Mortal Kombat stickers and signed by members of an old school Mortal Kombat team. This was precious to her. She gave Jason a deathly glare as she plugged in her fightpad. Kevin watched on with his mouth agape.

"Aww, bruh," Kevin said as he pulled up a chair. "She really gonna try to give it to you."

 

Lace grinned. "Best of luck, Jason."

 

Jason was needlessly speechless at seeing this. He slowly looked at Kevin and mouthed: "Whaaaaaat the fuuuuuck??"

 

"Bro, you didn't know?" Kevin said with a smile. "Lace used to play MK for yearssssssss," Kevin explained with emphasis. "I mean, MK Universal is hot right now, but Lace goes back with it. She went by Harpoon on her old squad when she was like ten bro. That's almost twelve years of nothing but dedication to Mortal Kombat. I know she quit about two years ago. School and all. But yeah man. I ain't seen that fightpad since--"

 

"2024," Lace commented. "That's the last time I used it." She was vividly reminiscing about her past with the game. "There's no better fighter."

 

Kevin hesitated. "...welllll--"

 

"Don't make me put you in a headlock," Lace quickly retorted. The game screen was loading.

 

Jason gulped a bit, chuckling nervously at this point. "Oh goooooood..." he muttered, shaking his head. "Well...either way...gonna try and give it my all."

 

Lace sat down and placed the fightpad in her lap carefully. Wonder if I still got it. she thought to herself. She quickly selected Scorpion from the versus screen. "Best of three?" she asked as she looked over to Jason.

 

"Uh sure. Best of three sounds good." Jason nodded, already seeing Lace selecting Scorpion as her character. He cursed to himself, knowing he did like how Scorpion played in the other games...but if he chose Scorpion, that'd probably be bad. Reluctantly, he moved his cursor over and then selected Liu Kang.

 

Lace smiled. This was refreshing. She extended her hand to Jason. "Heads up. You uh, might end up seeing the other side of me," she said with a chuckle.

 

"...I don't think it'll be the worst thing I've seen..." Jason chuckled back, extending his hand to hers. He wasn't lying after all...he had seen worst things...and most in the last couple of days.

 

"Oh, and Kevin," Lace said as she looked over her shoulder with a menacing grin. "It's your fault Jason and I even have to have this match," she said, regarding basketball practice. "So if things go sideways, you're gonna suffer too." Kevin shivered.

 

Finally, the game started and well, the first game was pretty much a slaughter-fest with Jason eventually getting a few good hits in there but ultimately lost the first round of the match. A few Flameports here and there before being tossed into a series of combos that just ended up making Liu Kang and Jason a punching bag was all that was being done...then the finishing off him with the Fatality  In his situation, he was still relatively new to this game's mechanics and the like, however, he slowly began to understand how to work the game. When the second round started, Lace yet again went straight for the kill, but was ended up being surprised by Jason's button mashing technique. Rather, it was button mashing up until he took the second round of the second match. It took some time, but Jason finally got the hang on how Liu Kang was to play and how he could actually be better in a few situations during a match. A few well placed Bicycle Kicks thanks to him finding the combo to ease into it from a Double Dragon Kick, and Jason somehow won the second match. ...it was all down to the third and final match.

 

"You're lookin' kinda sweaty Lace," Kevin chuckled. "Nervous?"

 

"You shut your face before I give you a swirlie, you peabrained little chickenshit!" Lace snapped.

 

"Whoaaaaa," Kevin laughed. "It's all comin' back now!"

 

Brad, who normally remained silent, slid up his chair beside Kevin's. "Interesting," he commented.

 

"Down to the wire, big guy," Kevin added.

 

Jason huffed a bit, his right leg still bouncing up and down right now in a furious motion as he shook his head slightly. "J-Jeez...y-yeah...I'll say it now...she's EXTREMELY good..." he said nervously. "Just...barely pulled that off."

 

"I can't feel my fingers," Lace said. "Let's go!"

 

Jason sighed as he stared at the TV and prepared for the last match. Unknowingly, he started chewing on his tongue at this point, being both on edge right now and extremely nervous. It was either going to be a win here...or a looooooong grueling essay. "Good luck..."

[Alaina]

 

Avery continued to make her way through the day, just as she had every other. She had tried to stick to her usual plan of keeping out of the spotlight. She had attempted to simply be normal Avery Moureaux. 

 

Walk from class to class. Sit down. Say nothing for most of class. Interject towards the beginning and part of the end so as not to draw suspicion of avoiding attention. Look towards the board at most times but don't look too eager. Take notes while the professor was talking. Never ask questions. Never answer what no one else could. Never be certain. Never be excited. And never be bored.  

 

These were ways Avery managed to divert attention from herself, standing out only to blend in. However, in spite of having followed this plan for years now, and despite having gone through the rehearsed actions day in and out, Avery found herself unable to focus on much of anything today. She felt restless, bored, and completely uninterested in whatever anyone was saying. 

 

Foot tapping. Staring the clock. Writing whenever in her notebook. 

 

While it was nothing that anyone would take special notice of, Avery had. As such, her consciousness of her own differences only compounded into stress as she was unable to correct herself over the course of the day, which only caused her to become even less focused in her classes. All the same, there was nothing she could do about it. After all, school was just so boring...

 

---

 

With the day coming to its close, the girl continued to walk through the halls, ready to make her way home. However, as she watched other students move from place to place she had realized something. 

 

Clubs. 

 

Avery had made a responsibility. She had made a commitment to go there at least some of the times. And the people knew her. If she didn't go they'd probably find her. And if they looked for her that was all the worst.

 

Reluctantly, Avery made her way to the video game club, both happy and somewhat concerned to see something already underway. She didn't quite get what was going on, but it appeared that Jason was playing with the one girl in some kind of fighting game. While that was easy enough to understand, Avery couldn't quite get why she felt a murderous intent coming from the girl and Jason seemed fearful for his life. Though, one probably beget the other. 

 

All the same, Avery stood in the background, adjusting her glasses as her interest was piqued. Wordlessly, the girl began to examine the two fighters as their final game got underway. 

[radio414]

---

“Huh, that’s where I’ve gotta go too…” Reno said. He started following behind her, too close to be stalking her, but a bit too far to be, you know, at a normal distance. “Also, I converse well enough.”

 

Was that an attempt at humor? Thomasin thought it was unbecoming. “Okay,” she said, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “So if you’re so good at conversation already…” But then she had to pause. She didn’t actually have a good follow-up to that conditional.

 

It did come to her quickly, though. “If you’re good at talking, I guess you’ll be okay with a guessing game, right? Don’t worry, it’ll only take a couple minutes. Just up to the bell, probably. Interested? Or do you want to reconsider your stance on talking?”

 

“I’m up for it,” Reno said. “What exactly am I supposed to be guessing?”

 

“Oh no, I’m doing the guessing,” said Thomasin. “You know the game ‘Two Truths and a Lie?’ We’re gonna play that. So yeah, just, uh, tell me a couple things about yourself, and lie about one of them. And then I get to guess. Though, uh, to be honest, I bet you’d be good at this. I mean, so long as you keep that face you’ve got already, I don’t know how I’ll be able to tell anything you say apart.”

 

Reno raised his hand to his chin. Already it looked like he was intrigued by the proposition. “Well, I suppose that’s easy enough… hmm…” He paused to think. “Well, here we go. One, I once fought a bear. Two, I have a black belt in Muay Thai. Three…”

 

He paused again. To Thomasin, this was a clear give that what followed was going to be the lie, but she didn’t really want to dampen Reno’s spirits. He did seem like he was mostly humoring her anyway. Eventually, though, he came up with, “I’ve gone to another world,”

 

Thomasin pouted. Whatever mood there was had been immediately killed. “I’m not going to play if you’re not going to take this seriously,” she said. “Actually, yeah, no. No guessing, sorry. So, uh, congrats. You got me.” She shrugged. “See you around.”

From: (504)555-2084

To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213

Is this still “the complaining chat?”

Let me tell you about Biology real quick.

From: (504)555-6942

To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084

YES

Gotta complain about spanish when your done

From: (504)555-2084

To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213

So there’s this kid. He sits in the back of the class which, you know, is whatever, but he also records the class on his phone, which is kind of weird? But as everyone was getting up to leave I saw he’s got an ankle bracelet on? Like, the police kind?

From:(504)555-8213

To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-2084

Tldr

From: (504)555-6942

To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084

Quiet you

Is that that becket kid Tommy?

From: (504)555-2084

To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213

I don’t know; I kind of zone out during Biology.

I think the teacher started talking about someday having us dissect pig fetuses and I immediately wished he wasn’t.

From: (504)555-6942

To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084

http://i.imgur.com/9b90JbW.gif

Omg whyyyyyyyy

I can't follow this

All I have is bs spanish vocam

*vocab

From: (504)555-8213

To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-2084

I think I saw Tyler at kevins party

I don’t think he had an anklet then

But I wouldn't be surprised if he did have one

From: (504)555-6942

To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084

Yeah I guess its not surprising

Just weird

Idk

Lunchtime was recharging time. Sometimes it was walking-and/or-bussing-to-the-park time, sometimes it was hang-out-wherever time, but it was always recharging time. It was a time to decompress after all the problems the morning had brought. It was also, more literally, peanut butter sandwich, banana, chips, and Capri Sun time. It was as good a lunch as any.

 

Thomasin normally ate lunch alone. That wasn’t to say she didn’t have friends, the constantly updating, never ceasing group chat on her phone could attest to that, but she liked the meditative mood she could get in with food in her mouth and music in her ears.

 

The song for the break -- well, technically it was a set of songs, but whatever -- was Camille Saint-Saëns’ Carnival of the Animals. That’s certainly what school felt like sometimes, what with all the chaotic goings-on (with all the people not looking where they’re going (yes she was still salty about that!)).

Physics, while equally as boring as her morning classes, did have the potential to become less so with a little bit of innovative code plugged into her calculator. That sentence was a little misleading, though; it wasn’t her code, after all, just something she managed to pull off the internet. And “innovative” was a bit of a stretch, too; there were only so many ways to make virtual blocks slide around on a TI-84.

 

The point was, for minutes at a time, Thomasin could play video games and have the perfectly reasonable excuse of needing to double-check some figures. Sure, any longer would be suspicious, which could negatively affect her score, but time attack was for chumps anyway. If there was a leaderboard for these sorts of games, Thomasin didn't want any part of it.

 

All this was a rather roundabout way to say, well, there was a reason Thomasin skipped this class so often. It wasn’t that she couldn’t see a point to all those lectures about the mechanics of the universe relating to all this math and all these figures, but, like, why, though?

“Why?” was more a question for her fourth period, though. Philosophy was… a class. A good class, sure, sometimes even a fun class, but not exactly the most memorable class either? Sure, she could remember the coursework well enough, but none of the faces seemed to stick out over the rest of the crowd. Maybe that was because of the subject matter at hand? Deconstructing anthropocentrism before they could build it back up from the base concepts?

 

If the class was all about how humans weren’t special, why should she pay attention to the humans in the class? Or something like that. Yeah, that had to be it. Because again, the class was interesting. Even on days that she skipped Physics, Thomasin still endeavored to make it back in time for fourth period. So there had to be something there, right?

 

So, as kind of a recap, on her more average days (which, for the record, today was not), Thomasin would trudge through her morning classes (dodging cold-calls as best she could), gossip with her friends, avoid doing actual work in third period one way or another, and breeze through her final class of the day before… before what?

 

From: (504)555-2084

To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213

What are the odds I can join a club after sign-ups close, do you think?

From: (504)555-6942

To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084

Idk, what club are you trying to join?

From: (504)555-2084

To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213

I was thinking about joining the Dedicated Fiction club.

From: (504)555-6942

To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084

Talk to Amanda I guess

Two to one odds shell let you

From: (504)555-8213

To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-2084

Ill take that bet lol

Shell smother you

Hundred percent

On one side of the classroom door, a girl with maybe an above-average knowledge of young adult fiction. On the other, the uncounted (which, as a point of order, was different from uncountable) number of teenagers of the Dedicated Fiction club. Even with the reassurances Megan and Beatrice had given her, Thomasin still felt a little intimidated. Her mind was made up, sure; she was going to join this club, but she needed just a little, you know, a little more.

 

The exact process was instinctual enough that she would never be able to describe it exactly if she tried, but the end result was her sitting on the ground, the wall just behind her, backpack to her side, and tarot deck in hand, itself constantly getting split and bridge-shuffled back together.

 

It was a simple enough question: “What’s in store for me in the near future?” As such, it only required one card.

 

Cut once, twice, flip. And…?

 

The Two of Pentacles card stared back at her, and in that moment, Thomasin remembered why single card readings could be difficult. Without context -- and maybe it wasn’t a good question to begin with -- the card could be an omen of good news and/or industriousness, but it also could mean difficult beginnings or letting emotions get the better of you.

 

So that was a waste. Now she had two distinct options ahead of her. She could draw another card to clarify the reading just a little bit more, or…

 

“Ah, to hell with it,” Thomasin said, and opened the door. “Hello?”

 

“That had better be Paul,” someone said (Amanda probably, right?). “Oh. Oh, hi there!” she said excitedly. “What can we do for you?”

 

“Not Paul, sorry!” Thomasin said. “I could be a Paulina, I guess, but uh, yeah, no. Hi! Um, I know I missed sign-ups, but I was wondering if I could still join.”

 

Before Thomasin could get an answer, though, another girl was suddenly across the room and now standing inches away from Thomasin’s face, blushing. “You have to answer a question first,” the second girl said. “That is: what… is the air-speed of an unladen swallow?” Her brown face was noticeably red, almost like she was infatuated with Thomasin.

 

“Janet,” the first girl (the probably-Amanda one) said sternly as she pulled the girl away. “Sit. And don’t make me pull you aside again.” She sighed, quickly regained her composure, and returned to Thomasin.

 

“Sorry,” she said. “Janet is a bit of an eccentric. Anyway!” Her smile returned. “You can totes join! We actually lost a member recently, so having a new face is pretty cool. You’re just in time to pitch in for our monthly reading vote. We recently finished an alumni fictional novel, so we’re gonna start with a vote on what fictional piece to read this month. It can be a novel, an article, a poem, whatever really. Janet will pass around the hat later and you can scribble in your vote and drop it in!”

 

She extended her hand and formally introduced herself. “I’m Amanda.”

 

“Thomasin,” said Thomasin, reciprocating the handshake. “Um, hey, no worries about the eccentric thing. I mean, I’m not not eccentric, I guess, if that makes sense.” She looked over at Janet. “Bold of you to assume there are people who haven’t seen that movie.”

 

Janet giggled and loudly whispered, “It's my favorite.”

 

Thomasin returned her attention to Amanda. “So do I just sit anywhere or are there assigned seats or…?”

 

“Sit anywhere,” Amanda said. “Why don't you tell us a little about yourself, Thomasin?”

 

“Okay,” said Thomasin. She ended up taking an empty seat next to Janet, who sighed with contentment. “Um, honestly, there’s not a lot to tell; I’m a pretty normal person, all things considered. I guess in regards to fiction, I've been on a YA kick lately? Um, school’s gotten in the way of a lot of that, but uh, yeah, that’s that.”

 

An idea crossed her mind. “Oh, here’s a good way to introduce myself, I guess. Um, so here’s two truths and a lie: I read tarot, like, you know, fortunes and stuff? I wouldn’t say exactly fortunes but I guess that’s what everyone knows them for. I, ah, my favorite genre of music is swing. I dunno, electric swing, big band stuff, I’m pretty flexible, yeah, and lastly, I, uh, skip third period a lot. So yeah! That’s some mostly true stuff about me.”

 

“You sound like Nola is the place for you then,” the one guy in the room interjected as Amanda raised her hand. “We got a lotta good big bands down here and such. Oh, I’m Leo by the way. Leo Grand.”

 

“Hush Mr. Grand, “ Janet said, before switching to a more coo-y voice. “Reading tarot sounds interesting, I’ll have to come and see you for a reading sometime. I’d love to know what my love life will be like.” Amanda jabbed Janet in the ribs, but she was practically unphased.

 

Thomasin opened her mouth and managed “It’s not that -” before Amanda moved the meeting along.

 

“Well, we’re missing a member and you know Janet and Leo now. I’ll have to get Paul to formally introduce himself the next time we meet if you’re able to make it. But for now,” Amanda stood up and pulled a dusty old top hat from the center of the long, plastic black table that the club sat around. She grabbed a stack of sticky notes and a pen and passed it all to Thomasin. “You’re officially one of us. So go ahead and drop your pick for the monthly reading into the hat, and we’ll see if it gets picked at the next meet,” she said with a smile.

 

Thomasin took the sticky note but had her own pen so she passed the other supplies down the line. The act of choosing a work, though, took a little bit of time. Novel, article, or poem? When faced with the broad possibilities of the question, Thomasin found she couldn’t think of much of anything. She wanted to impress, and she wanted to promote the YA kick she’d just said she’d been on, but she didn’t want to appear pretentious. At least, not right away. The tarot would take care of that eventually.

 

She did come up good contribution, though. It wasn’t like they’d draw hers right off the bat, right? She jotted down “I Am The Messenger by Markus Zusak,” folded the sticky-note, and tossed it into the hat.

From: (504)555-2084

To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213

Still alive. Not smothered just yet.

You’re not gonna get rid of me that easily.

From: (504)555-8213

To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-2084

Damn guess I gotta pay up then

From: (504)555-2084

To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213

Wait, did you actually bet something?

From: (504)555-8213

To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-2084

No just my pride

From: (504)555-6942

To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084

YOUR PRIDE IS MINE BEATRICE

LET THE SUFFERING COMMENCE

And so on for the entire walk home. Not that it wasn’t worth paying attention to (though to be fair, there wasn’t much else), but it also wasn’t really worth remembering. Or, at least, when she walked through the front door, it certainly wasn’t something she was going to mention when they inevitable questions started…”

 

“Hey, how was school, honey?”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Anything interesting happen?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“You’re later than normal. Were you distracted kissing boys under the bleachers?”

 

That, at least, earned an eye roll. “No.”

 

“Kissing girls under the bleachers?”

 

“Dad!”

 

The questions only stopped when she slammed her bedroom door closed behind her, and she didn’t open the door again until it was time for dinner.

---

[Super Chaos Sonic]

 

 

Final Round...FIGHT

 

The game was in full swing almost immediately. Blow upon blow was exchanged between both player's characters as it went back and forth between them. Lace and Scorpion won the first round of the final match, then Jason and Liu Kang took control with the second round of the final match. Then back to Lace, then Jason tying it up. Needless to say, it all came down to the Final Round in this match. All parties involved were in high energy, the players and the spectators both. Everyone on the edge of their seats and awaiting to see what would happen.

 

However, when it finally came down to it, Jason was taking control of the battle...and when it was time to make the final move...he did. Through some random button mashing, Jason finally pulled off one of Liu Kang's Fatalities, and it was pretty brutal. And that's when everyone saw it and heard it: Liu Kang Wins! Fatality!

 

Lace was in utter disbelief, as was Kevin.

 

"... I... I lost?" she uttered softly.

 

"Holy sheet," Kevin whispered. Lace could feel the grin forming on Kevin's mouth behind her as she stared at the screen. Scorpion's body lay decimated on the arena floor. "Is there anything Jason can't do!?" Kevin said excitedly. He sprang up from his seat and darted around to Jason's side, wielding a pen in his hand upside down. Kevin put on the deepest voice he could muster and pretended to 'straighten a tie' on his chest. "This is Kevin Garcia, coming to you live from Greater Orleans' High Video Game Club where Jason Garrett--basket ball superstar, high school athlete, and scholar--has just decimated the legendary veteran Mortal Kombat player Harpoon. Jason, how do you feel about this victory?"

 

Jason was still in disbelief at this, just staring at the screen for the longest time until Kevin snapped him out of his stupor. "...I-I...won?" he muttered, looking over at Kevin. Then the one thought came to his mind: the essay. "...how do I feel?" he started. "I feel like that Mortal Kombat essay isn't going to happen!! H-Holy crap that...I..I WON!!!"

 

Lace slowly turned her head toward Kevin and Jason. She gently sat her fightpad down and stood up. Then, she extended a hand to Jason. "Good game," she admitted finally.

 

"Good game my ass..." Jason said with a smile, extending his hand towards Lace's. "That was a great game! You had me quite a few times there."

 

Lace was satisfied. For the most part. Jason held up his end of the deal. But there was one more thing to take care of. "Pardon me," Lace said. With surprising strength, Lace tackled Kevin to the ground and began to strangle him, shaking his head up and down as he laughed heartily. "YOU TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS AND I'LL SET YOUR NUTS ON FIRE WITH A BLOWTORCH! HEAR ME!?" Lace yelled.

 

Kevin, still laughing, nodded. "I got it, I got it!"

 

Jason saw this, before busting out laughing at this little display. "Hehe, I don't think he will, Lace. I mean, at this point, he'd probably much rather do anything else...especially if that blowtorch is on the table." he snickered towards Kevin.

 

Kevin held up a thumbs up in response to Jason, appreciative of his 'support'. "Get offa me damn it," Kevin said, his chuckles finally dying.

 

Jason smiled a bit and the moment Lace got off him, he reached down and helped Kevin up.

 

Lace dusted herself off and returned to her old cheery self. "Well. Since I just got my ass kicked, I guess I'll write that essay," Lace said happily. "For now, it's time for a club meeting. It'll be brief, but we should get ready for Fall Supersales and new releases." Lace pulled a remote from a table beside the door to the clubroom and pressed a big red button. A projector hummed above them and she powered down the lights. "Because I am super hyped for Spider-man 2099. Have you guys seen the frickin' trailer!?"

 

She loaded Youtube without hesitation. The rest of the club's evening was spent watching trailers on upcoming video games. Business as usual...

 

 

Escaping the Keep

 

Jason waited a bit outside of the school campus, waiting for his mom to stop by. He sent her a text earlier after he and Paul made the plans about this whole thing, seeing if she'd give him a ride to the location. While waiting for her, he sent another text straight to Paul.

 

"Yo. Mom will be picking me up to drop me off at your place...what's the address?" he sent, seeing his mom pulling in the moment he finished sending. "Hey mom. Thanks for helping me out."

 

"It's not a problem Jason. It's good to see that you have friends." Julia smiled, getting the car moving. "I assume you'll have the address in a moment?"

 

"That's...the hope." he said, glancing over at her with a sigh. "Did he get upset at hearing this?"

 

Julia sighed and shrugged. "...more like annoyed, but it's alright. He just had a rough day at work is all..."

 

...hmph...I'll bet...

[King K. Azo]

“Huh, that’s where I’ve gotta go to…,” He didn’t, but then again, he didn’t really need to be anywhere right now. He followed after her, unsure of why, just knowing that he was doing this. “Also, I converse well enough,” He attempted ‘humor’, (after all, everyone knew he barely talked) but his voice may have been just a little too deadpan to convey that.
 
Dammit, she was right, wasn’t she?
 
“Okay,” she said, a tone taken only by those who didn't believe what he said. “So if you’re so good at conversation already…” She paused, causing Reno to look down at her. What was she planning? “If you’re good at talking, I guess you’ll be okay with a guessing game, right? Don’t worry, it’ll only take a couple minutes. Just up to the bell, probably. Interested? Or do you want to reconsider your stance on talking?”

 

His bluff was being called. That was the last thing he expected, but… it was just a guessing game. It’s not like it was going to hurt… besides, the last remnants of his pride would be shattered if he back down now. “I’m up for it,” He answered. “What exactly am I supposed to be guessing?”

 

“Oh no, I’m doing the guessing,” said Thomasin. “You know the game ‘Two Truths and a Lie?’ We’re gonna play that. So yeah, just, uh, tell me a couple things about yourself, and lie about one of them. And then I get to guess. Though, uh, to be honest, I bet you’d be good at this. I mean, so long as you keep that face you’ve got already, I don’t know how I’ll be able to tell anything you say apart.”

 

Reno blinked and raised a hand to his chin. This was just his normal face… he wasn’t doing anything weird, right?

 

“Well, I suppose that’s easy enough… hmm…,” He paused and think. He was pretty sure he could win this game, but… how far out did he want to reach for her options? He thought of it… and he had a sure fire way to win. “Well, here we go. One, I once fought a bear. Two, I have a black belt in Muay Thai. Three…,” He paused, thinking to himself. Was it a good idea to say this? Eh, she’d probably just think it was a lie. “I’ve gone to another world,”

 

Thomasin pouted, causing Reno to frown. Guess he went too far. “I’m not going to play if you’re not going to take this seriously,” she said. “Actually, yeah, no. No guessing, sorry. So, uh, congrats. You got me.” She shrugged. “See you around.”

 

Reno raised an eyebrow before shrugging. “Well, I don’t have too much in my life that could be considered exciting, so I thought I’d just give you an easy one,” He paused, unsure if he wanted to dig himself deeper into the hole. “Well, I guess I might as well tell you the lie. Muay Thai doesn’t have a colored belt system like karate,” He wasn't even sure she heard him as she headed into the crowd of students. Reno sighed to himself and headed the way he actually had to go. Looks like he blew it again. 

 

.

.

J̸̢̯̤̥̰̠̤̔͋͊́͒́̕͡ư̺̱͉̬̯͚͛͌͛̾̈́͑͢͡ͅͅͅs̵͚̰̞̜̼̃̿̓̃͆͗̔̕̚͡ț̶̘̻̗̤̤̜̭̍͗̒̽̔̿̀̄̆͜͞ ľ̳̱͇̮̯̪̹̰̋̾̓́͊̎̊̂̏͜i̜̥͔̤̞͎̝̺̋̿̾̊̀͘k̛̹̬̪̠͎̱̅̔̅̍̕͠͡ͅe̤̜͈̼̰̲̼̺̾̿̄̑̿̑̊̃̈́͋͜ y̷͈͍̹̥̦̗̙̜͒́̋̑̃̐̅̃͜͞o̢̧͉͙̹̤͎̻̽͂̑̆̽̿̀͗̽͞ų͙̞̞̯̗̰̩̼͚̒̀̆̈́͑́͒̒͘͞ ă̴͍̳̪̮̥̣̈̓́̔̉̓́̃͟͝ĺ̶͕̲̞̘͉̱̭̈́̂̀́̎̊͘ͅw̠̝̗̤͉̣͍̩̆̐̇̊͐̈͘͝ȁ̵̭̝͚̖̹̖̩͊̃̋͛̊̚͘͠ẙ̭̭̼̖̼̊͂̂̐̓̉̚͜͠͠s̴̬̰̭̘̒̋͗̓̌̉͌̉̾͘͢͢ͅ d͍̤̜̰͉̥͚̜̭̉́̃̐̓͢͝͞o͔͉̪̙͊͛́̍̂͋͜͡.͕͖̰͉̺͖̀͐̃̎̾͛̈͊̆̚͟

.

.

 

---

 

Reno spent the rest of his day the way he usually did, alone. Ate alone, learned alone, worked alone. That was all going to change though. Despite his bad mood due to the events of today, he at least had the video game club to look forward to. Sure, he wouldn't be able to play much today due to his injured hand, but he just enjoyed being there.

When he got there, he saw that Lace had a fight stick out, peaking his interest. Where they playing a fighting game? Which one? Marvel vs. Capcom? Maybe King of Fighters? Heck, even Street Fighter 5 would be acceptable. Just so long as it wasn't... 

 

"Bro, you didn't know?" Kevin said with a smile. "Lace used to play MK for yearssssssss,"

 

Ah, boo, not Mortal Kombat. 

He took a seat, pulling out his phone and loading up the app that would lead him into everlasting gatcha hell. He really needed a different hobby than dumping cash into basically a waifu simulator, but hey, it could be worse. He could be playing Mortal Kombat. 

Okay, that wasn't entirely fair. Mortal Kombat was an okay game, controls were fine and the game was responsive... he just couldn't stand the little things that most people didn't notice. From their idle stances to their attacks, well... Mortal Kombat really sucked at them animation wise... there was no weight or hint of realistic fight choreography behind it, and as a guy who actually had a hobby in fighting, it bothered him to no end.

Sure, flying ten feet into the air and uppercutting someone wasn't realistic, but a game like Street Fighter still made it convincing, and that was all that matter when it came to the animation. His nitpicking aside, it seemed that Jason was actually doing very well. So well in fact, that in the end, he had actually won. 

 

"... I... I lost?" she uttered softly.

 

"Holy sheet," Kevin whispered. Lace could feel the grin forming on Kevin's mouth behind her as she stared at the screen. Scorpion's body lay decimated on the arena floor. "Is there anything Jason can't do!?"

 

"Win in an actual fighting game?" Reno quipped quietly. Okay, that was mean. He should let Jason have this moment. Afterwards, they just sat down and watched game trailers. Reno.. really liked this club. 

 

---

 

The sun was setting by the time Reno returned home. He didn't want to come back here... he didn't want to stay. In the end though, he really didn't have anywhere else to go. He wasn't cut out to be a hobo. For all his strength and intimidating looks, he knew he probably wouldn't survive in the real world. He'd have to be more like someone like Tyler if he really wanted to do something like that.

He just couldn't see himself like that though. 

He unlocked the door and walked in, seeing that his old man was sitting on the couch, watching TV. Reno did his best to walk past without disturbing his father, but he heard the man's voice call out. "The hell happened to your hand?" 

Of course he was the one to notice.

"I just... hurt myself, is all," Reno answered, turning to the man that raised him, the older man's form mostly hidden by the darkness, with only the TV dimly illuminating him and the bottle he held in his hand.

"You didn't fuckin' do something that'd get the cops on you, did you? You better not of. I ain't gonna funking bail you out," was the reply snapped at him. 

"No, sir... I didn't," 

 

"Good. Now get the hell outta my sight," That was a signal to Reno that today was a bad day at work for his dad... not that he ever had a good one, but this one was worse than usual. "The funk are you doing standing there like some dumb animal? I fuckin' said get!" his father snapped, throwing the bottle at Reno. Reno quickly moved out of the way and headed up the stairs.

One day, he get out of here. One day... he'd be free.

[Dad]

8/29

Wednesday, After School

Hot, Humid

Quinn rubbed his arm still unable to look Paul in the eyes.

"Listen I was really stressed out. You don't need to apologize, I was really out of line too." Quinn sighed finally turning to look at Paul.

"Then I guess we're square," Paul added. "What'd you wanna talk about?" he asked.

"I know we didn't exactly get off on a great start, but I need..." Quinn cut himself off. He wasn't even entirely sure what he wanted. "I need to be around people who don't really know me right now. So... when you go on your next... acid trip, whatever the funk, could I like, come with."

Paul nodded. "We'd be happy to have you. Another witness to all of this wild sheet is welcomed." Paul's phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from Jason.




FROM: Jason G.
TIME: 3:59 p.m.

Yo. Mom will be picking me up to drop me off at your place...what's the address?


"sheet, sorry. One sec," Paul said as he quickly replied to Jason's text.




FROM: Paul
TIME: 4:00 p.m.

4600 Chrysler Street. I'm already omw. See you soon.


"sheet, I gotta book it," Paul said quickly. He opened up his settings and searched for nearby devices with bluetooth. "I'm sending you my contact info again. I'll let you know when we're ready to go on another 'acid trip'," Paul joked.

Quinn's phone would buzz with an incoming contact request.

"See you soon, Quinn. Get home safe," Paul said as he began to jog across Carrolton Avenue. A bus was barreling down the street and Paul was desperately waving his arms to flag down the driver. Thankfully, the driver saw him and slowed down, pulling into the next bus stop. As Paul stepped onto the bus, he could hear the bus driver mumbling something about "stupid kids". He chose to ignore it.

His phone buzzed again after he put in his fare. Jason texted him back.
 

FROM: Jason G.
TIME: 4:04 p.m.

Just left the campus, though it'll be a bit. Have to stop grab gas...ya know, the whole 9-yards...lol

Paul took a seat and sent Jason a reply.
 

FROM: Paul
TIME: 4:05 p.m.

Aight. Bet.

When Paul arrived home, he had managed to be the first on the property that evening. His mother's car wasn't there and Jason was nowhere in sight.

Paul approached the front porch but was stopped in his tracks when he heard a whistle. Turning around, Cavo was standing on a nearby corner, waiting for Paul. Cavo's face was still partially bruised. How he managed to whistle with a broken jaw was another story.

Paul's keys were clenched in his hands. "Whatchu need, Cavo? I don't have time for your sheet right now."

Cavo threw up his hands in surrender. "Be easy bro," he said through clenched teeth. "Iun want no smoke. I came to apologize."

Paul stared blankly at Cavo.

"Listen bruh. I ain't know you had them people outchea like that. And I damn shol' ain't know your brother was doin' the damn thing. So we square bruh. No beef. Just tryna get this paper." Cavo slowly backed away, heading down the street. He threw up a hand and waved to Paul before disappearing around the corner. But some of Cavo's words still lingered in Paul's ears.

"My brother," he said softly to himself. Paul balled a fist. How did Cavo know Randy was making moves? Unless he and Randy met. Paul unlocked the iron door to the house, stepped inside, and locked the place down. Randy was back in town and already moving on territory.

Jason exited the vehicle, waving his mom goodbye as she drove off. Guess he isn't home?? he thought, shrugging, heading towards the house's door, knocking on it. "Paul? You home? It's Jason!"


Paul peered out his window. It was Jason alright. On the other side, Jason was facing an iron door with two heavy locks. Behind it, the main door to the home. He would hear several clicks, the sounds of a security system, and a heavy thud behind the main door. Paul pulled it open slowly, trying not to laugh. With his best straight face, Paul stepped into view.

He was holding himself up with his grandfather's cane, and he put on his best hunchback impression and a scraggly voice. "Eh, what's that sonny? You lookin' fer somethin'?" Paul asked with squinted eyes through his spectacles.

Jason just looked at Paul for a good long moment, shaking his head as a smile started forming on his face. "Dude...you might need some work on your acting...my sister might actually be able to help you if you want." he chuckled, shaking his head.

Paul laughed and unlocked the door. He ushered Jason inside and waved to Mrs. Garrett politely before shutting the door. "Glad you could make it." Paul showed Jason to his room upstairs. "You can take my bed for the night. Already talked to my mom so you can crash for as long as you like."

That was true and false. Paul knew how his mom was about visitors. But this was a special case. He was sure she'd understand. He had texted her about two hours ago. It was now 6:00 p.m. She and Ann would be home soon.

For Paul, however, the night would come quickly, and last far too long.

 

The Fool and the Magician

When did he fall asleep? Paul had crashed on a hand made cot beside his bed where Jason was sleeping. He was back in the blue room. The Velvet Room. It had been a few days since he had last been here. Paul approached the bars of his cell, trying to ignore the large weight around his ankle. The large dark skinned man from before, appeared at Paul's cell. "The master has been waiting patiently for you," he said with emphasis.

Paul nodded as the large man stepped aside.

"Paul," Igor said, addressing the young man. "I see your journey has come into fruition. How do you fare?"

Paul wasn't quite sure how to answer that. "Well... I'm not dead. And I'm learning a lot about... whatever that place is."

"It has a name, Paul. The Substitute Plain. It is a place where many evils frolic about. It is a place that you will find answers questions to some of your many woes. It brings to light the actions of the selfish and the souls in which they have chained," Igor said.

Paul shook his head. "I don't understand. Chained souls?"

Igor nodded. "There are unique shadows in the Substitute Plain. Those shadows which have suffered greatly and have been captured. They belong to the souls of the people in your world. And you have the opportunity to free them and learn some new truths. Or," Igor said, raising a finger. "You may squander this, and allow your world to crumble into the darkness."

Paul leaned closer to the bars of his cell. "Igor. What do you want from me?"

Igor smiled. "I'm here only as a means of direction, Paul. You may choose which direction you take. I only want you to choose."

Paul frowned. "So," Paul began. "If I keep going back to the 'Substitute Plain', I'll have a chance to save the world, right?"

Igor nodded.

"If I refuse, my world will 'crumble into darkness'. Things are gonna get bad if I don't do something, right?" Paul asked.

Igor nodded again.

Paul paused. He did have a unique interest in finding the owner of the hotel on the first island. He also wanted to learn more about Shango, Grendel, and Personas. Not to mention, he had already promised Quinn that when they returned, he would bring Quinn along. He had to go back.

"Okay then, Igor. I'll go back. It's a deal," Paul announced.

Igor's smile widened, almost sinisterly so. Paul and Igor have formed a pact.

And while Paul could not hear it or see it, the winds of change were blowing in his favor. The Fool Arcana had been formed, and a weak fire burned at its feet.

Paul had one last question, however. "But Igor... why me? Why was I picked to do this?"

Igor's smile faded. "That is a question you can only answer on your journey, Paul. It is the one question I will never have an answer for." Igor turned his chair around so that he was facing the velvet fire of the Velvet Room, his back to Paul. The large dark-skinned man from before stood in front of Paul's cell now.

"Time to go, prisoner," he said.

While the night went on, Jason may or may not have noticed Paul turning anxiously in his sleep. His body would twitch and jerk uncontrollably, but Paul would not make a sound.

 

8/30

Thursday

Hot, Humid

The next day would be mostly uneventful, except for the last hour of school. An assembly was called, where the school's student body was gathered in the auditorium. There was a city wide event being planned for New Orleans: the New Age Satchmo Summerfest, sponsored most notably by the New Orleans Catholic Association and their very own head priest. He reportedly, "wanted to give back to the city in more than one way".

"Life is a game. Play it." - Mother Theresa

Those were the words splashed in bold, red lettering across a white banner hanging in the auditorium.

Father Tiverly proudly stood before the students gathered, to announce that he was giving away nine tickets to the New Age Satchmo Summerfest, and students had a chance to win them. Anyone of any class or year could enter, so long as they were present and placed a paper entry into a brown wooden box at the center of the stage with their name and phone number provided.

 

Primary Objectives:

• Attend the assembly.

Optional Objectives

• Make an entry for the New Age Satchmo Summerfest

[Alaina]

 

Avery had not been having a good day. Her morning had been nothing more than a set of disappointments with her having to rush to school, only to make it to her first class 30 minutes late. The cause had been that her alarm had seemed not to go off. Or, rather, on closer inspection it had appeared that Avery had never set it in the first place. And her disastrous morning, followed by having to answer questions in class that she ungracefully did not know the answer to, didn't seem to let up. She didn't have any memory of what had happened in Algebra class, as she didn't quite pay attention to what was going on. When lunch came around she realized that she had neither brought anything from home nor had her wallet on her, forgotten in her mad dash out of the house to get to school. 

 

Both hungry and irritable, Avery had done her best trying to survive the rest of the day, thankful that things hadn't picked up too far in their classes yet that she was able to absentmindedly try and take notes. Of course, whenever she began writing notes for class they gave way to notes on something entirely. This also compounded into the last period, where thankfully all they had to do was sit around and listen to someone talk about some kind of summer festival. The girl wasn't quite sure what to expect from it, but she hadn't any interest in going and thus winning a ticket would only give her stressful attention. As the assembly went on, the girl merely looked to her phone, continually opening the one group chat. Continuing  to look at it, the girl seemed to compulsively check to see if anyone would message there, though each time she opened the chat she was met with the same disappointment. Soon enough, she had stopped checking her phone, merely looking around a way to leave the premises as soon as she could and get out of the ensuing crowds.

[radio414]

---

“What’s in store for me today?” Thomasin said. She riffled her tarot deck together one more time just to be extra thorough, cut once, twice, and flipped the top card over to reveal an upside-down Six of Swords.
 
“‘Unresolved anxieties will continue to haunt me,’ huh?” said Thomasin. “That’s a mood. I was planning to just freak out a little before lunch, but yeah, maybe I can squeeze in smaller panics throughout the day if I multitask. Maybe.” She leaned back in her chair, half pondering when exactly would be the best time (or times) to just break down, half just… well, if she was being honest, half not doing much of anything; she was idling away until, eventually, her father knocked on the door.
 
“You moving?” he said.
 
“I mean, you heard me take a shower, right?”
 
“Yeah, but-”
 
“I’m not just going to fall back asleep after taking a shower, doing my hair, all that sort of stuff, Dad.”
 
There was a long pause. Eventually, her father said. “Just making sure you’re not late, honey. Mom made muffins if you wanted some, you know, instead of cereal.”

What could be said about school that hadn’t been expressed the day before? Her phone still buzzed constantly whenever Megan or Beatrice had spare time and a spare snark, and sometimes Thomasin would take part but none of it was really worth recounting as soon as the “Sent” tag popped up on her screen and she closed out of Messenger. Kelsey would still cold-call people out of their boredom-induced trances, but Thomasin managed to avoid those this time.
 
She did actively avoid Reno this time, she was still pretty salty about her encounter the previous day. It didn’t always work, sometimes she’d sneak a glance in his direction, but it was never long before she’d snap back forward.
 

From: (504)555-6942
To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084
Today’s icebreaker
Because if I have to sit through these so do you
What was your favorite band growing up?
I said Nickelback
No regrets

From: (504)555-2084
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213
New York Philharmonic

From: (504)555-8213
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-2084
Wow what a nerd

From: (504)555-2084
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213
youtu.be/2NfdS-1-ZzM
It still is.

From: (504)555-6942
To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084
Yeah ok nerd.
Bea?

From: (504)555-8213
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-2084
1d
Not as much anymore
But i admit i still listen from time to time

 
She managed much better with Tyler and Biology. Now that his anklet was old news, she was free to not pay attention to anything at all. The alternative was listening to the instructor talk about… Punnett squares? Or was that last week? Or did she just see that on a syllabus somewhere and the name stuck out? Whatever, thought Thomasin. It’s not like I’m going to use this in real life anyway.
 
By the time lunch rolled around, a total of two things of note had happened: Thomasin had decided to ignore whatever premonitions that single tarot card had given her, and she was definitely skipping third-period Physics, taking the quick walk down to New Orleans City Park, and setting up shop for a bit. She knew she had to be a little careful because of how the assembly messed with the class schedule; she still wanted to make it to Philosophy when the classes changed over. But until then, the only place she wanted to be was the park.

It was a simple system, really. If a customer was displeased with a particular reading, he or she could just leave and take their money with them. But even if they were pleased, it was still a pay-what-you-want model, almost like busking. She even had put out a sign. Thomasin’s Tarot it had in black sharpie block letters. Let Me Tell Your Story.
 
Business was slow today, though. Thomasin assumed it was because the weather, while not, you know, actively hostile to pedestrians, was still kind of miserable to be in for any long stretch of time. She soldiered on, though. Somebody somewhere had to be curious enough to try.
 
In the meantime, she mindlessly shuffled her deck, riffling the two halves together with the unconscious sort of efficiency that could only come from hours upon cumulative hours of the same repetitive motion. Eventually, more out of boredom than anything else, Thomasin decided to do another reading for herself. “A three-card spread, this time” she mumbled. “Just to keep in practice.”

She didn’t associate this one with a question. She just cut once, twice, and laid out three cards for herself, her past, present, and future all laid out for her.
 
Her past, she learned, was a reversed Ten of Pentacles, and she frowned at that, even as the rote-memorized words came pouring out of her. “Family difficulties,” she said. “Be wary of ill-conceived projects, and try not to get involved.” Almost immediately Thomasin had realized her mistake. With the absence of a question to guide her thoughts, the vagaries of the cards could just about mean anything. “Ill-conceived projects” could refer to the time her mother had suggested harp lessons, or it could refer to coming out here today of all days at all or anything in between.
 
But now it was there on the table. There wasn’t really any going back from this one. The second card, her present, was Judgement. This one was even more nebulous! It could mean she should look forward to upcoming journeys, experiencing an awakening of sorts by the end of it; or it could mean that she could simply take pride in what she had already accomplished, with the knowledge that she had achieved all she’d set out to; or it could just mean a legal ruling in her favor. So two contradictory options and a boring one. Maybe that did describe her pretty well.
 
All that was left was her future. It was an odd feeling, seeing the cards like this. The past and present were already known to her, and, while it wasn’t like revealing this one was going to predict or change anything, it was just, like, knowing something was there sometimes a bit much. But now she was stalling. She took another breath and flipped over the card…
 
…and The Devil stared back at her.
 
Well.
 
Normally on her walks too and from the park, Thomasin would have headphones in her ears, connected to her old, well-worn iPod stashed into her backpack, and her phone out in front of her. Today was different though. She still had the headphones in, but her music was turned low; she wasn’t really giving it much thought at all. Instead of her phone, she still had her tarot deck, with The Devil placed at the front. “Is someone practicing the dark arts against you?” she mumbled. “Is someone trying to ensnare your mind? Remember that indulgence can be amusing for a while, but too much will only end in downfall.”
 
The way she was holding her cards meant that a few in the middle slipped out, fluttering to the sidewalk. “Alright, that’s enough,” Thomasin said. She knelt down to pick it up, finishing her reading as she did so. “Remember, you are your own mistress. Nobody can hold you back but you.”

She shuffled the fallen card back into the deck and finished the walk back to school.

Philosophy continued to be less than noteworthy. But at least it went quickly, the bell ringing an hour before school ended because of that assembly. Pretty soon, Thomasin found herself elbow to elbow with every student in the school. The assembly was supposed to be about a music festival? With something about a raffle? Most of Thomasin’s assembly time was spent on her phone.
 

From: (504)555-8213
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-2084
Hey r either of u thinking of going to this music fest?

From: (504)555-6942
To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084
Lol probably not

From: (504)555-2084
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213
I might have to, I think.
At least, I might have to enter.

From: (504)555-6942
To: (504)555-8213, (504)555-2084
Its probs not the ny orchestra Tommy

From: (504)555-2084
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213
I may have told the Dedicated Fiction Club that I like swing. Not that far of a leap to Louis Armstrong, so…

From: (504)555-8213
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-2084
Wow rip
I actually thought about entering to tho
Maybe we both win

From: (504)555-2084
To: (504)555-6942, (504)555-8213
Haha, maybe.

---

[Super Chaos Sonic]

 

 

The Night Before

 

Jason was actually surprised that Paul let him use his bed like this. A pretty gracious host to say the least. The evening went on as usual for him, though he felt a bit of a weight lifted off him when he mentioned about the true reason his wrist was broken like it was. Through the night, Jason was able to rest...although he felt a small drop of worry...he wasn't sure what his father would be doing right now, if anything. Still, Jason did notice that Paul would be moving in a restless state, though he didn't make any sounds.
 
Probably just is having a dream or something...best not to wake him... Jason shrugged, turning over and falling asleep.
 

 

8/30

Thursday

Life is a Game

 

Jason was surprised that the bulk of the school day was uneventful. Then again, it did mean that the gang's plan to go back to the island would be a bit better this time. Still, all through the day, he was doing his best to try and mentally prepare himself to go back. He still wasn't sure if he was ready for that...
 
Nevertheless, before the gang could even think of leaving, there was a school assembly. This time, in favor of announcing something called the New Age Satchmo Summerfest. Sounded interesting at least...especially since there was a giveaway for nine tickets to join said event. An event...with the possibility of winning free stuff? That was like a dream come true for a high school student! How could Jason possibly say no.
 
Well, it wouldn't hurt... he thought, moving and filling out the paper with his name and phone number written down. He placed his entry into the box and then proceeded to pull out his phone. ...best check to see if the group is ready for that trip back...

 

With that, he proceeded to send a group text to everyone who Paul had contact with on the island: "Hey guys, its Jason. ...so is everyone ready for that island getaway part 2?"

[a bad post]

"See you soon, Quinn. Get home safe."

 

Quinn snorted at Paul's last words for him. "Yeah, I'll try. For some reason though trouble seems to just have a way of finding me." As the young men parted ways Quinn's phone dinged, alerting him of Paul's contact request, which he accepted. 

 

Putting his earbuds in Quinn walked across the school's parking lot to make his way home, however just before he stepped over the threshold of the school's gate he felt a hand around his wrist. In a panic, Quinn whipped around connecting a solid punch on the assailant's stomach who with an audible groan curled in on himself. It was only at this point that Quinn realized that the person who had grabbed him was Riku.

 

"S- solid right hook, Quinn," Riku wheezed, "but, ungh, was it, uh, really necessary?" Riku's voice cracked on the last word, and Quinn immediately took out his earbuds and crouched over to help his friend.

 

"Oh my god, holy sheet, oh my god, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" Quinn reached out, but before recoiled without actually touching Riku. 

 

"Yeah- yeah" a couple more coughs from Riku, "yeah I- uh, I tried calling out to you, but I don't think you could hear me..." Riku chuckled sheepishly. "Sorry for startling you." 

 

"No it's- it's I just thought you were..." Quinn trailed off not really sure how to complete that sentence. "I thought you were somebody else, anyway what' up?"

 

"Well, you've cut the last couple of drama club meetings, and you know I just wanted to make sure you were alright." Riku finally straightened himself up. 

 

"Oh." Quinn stared at Riku for several seconds. "I've been cause I was home so late from the party. My sister's just being... you know... overprotective."

 

"Yeah, I know we got separated in the chaos of getting away from Kevin's party... sorry about that... anyways I don't want to keep-"

 

"Actually do you want to come over, I could use a friend..."

 

"Are you sure? I don't want you to get into more trouble."

 

"No, it's alright. My sister won't be home until late, if at all, she's trying to make partner or something like that at her firm." 

 

-------

 

"So," Riku let his backpack slide off his shoulders as he walked into Quinn's room "what did you want to do?"

 

Quinn flopped down onto his desk chair pulling up Netflix on his laptop. 

 

"Honestly? I kind of just want to watch The Office for the thousandth time in a row, is that alright with you?"

 

"Hahaha, yeah sure." 

 

Pulling up a random episode Quinn angled the laptop towards the bed so they could lounge while watching before jumping in next to Riku, and pulling a blanket over himself. 

 

It would be a couple of episodes later when Riku noticed that Quinn seemed to be just staring up at the ceiling blinking quickly.

 

"Hey, uh, are -"

 

"I-I'm fi-" Quinn's voice cracked, and he sighed "ok, I'm not fine I want to cry but I'm wearing Kat Von D and sheet's expensive fam."

 

"Hey." Riku turned his body to face Quinn looking him directly in the eyes. "It's not healthy to keep stuff bottled up like that, it's ok to let it out." 

 

Quinn's lip quivered. The earnest and straightforward words from Riku were the last straw for Quinn and everything came bubbling up from inside him as he let out a loud sob.  

 

"Hey... it's ok, it's ok." Riku rubbing his friend's back. "Do you want to talk about it?" Between the sobbing shaking his friend's body Riku had a difficult time telling what Quinn wanted, but he was finally able to make out the barest hint of a shaken head. "Ok... ok. I'll stay with you until you're better, is that alright." This time a nod.

 

For the next several hours the boys sat in relative silence until Quinn's crying finally died down and, seemingly exhausted, he passed out. Riku moved quietly gently laying Quinn down onto the bed and made his way out the apartment's front door.

 

-------

 

Quinn spent most of the school day in an embarrassed haze. Normally quite confident and assured of himself Quinn couldn't believe he'd actually lost his composure in front of Riku. Quinn felt as though the red blush across his face would be plastered there forever, and could only manage to through himself into his work as a modest distraction. 

 

The school day finished with an assembly, which by some cruel trick of fate had him sitting next to Riku. 

 

"Hey... um, about-"

 

"Don't mention, that's what friends are for."

 

Quinn stared at Riku, and could only groan in embarrassment. "When did you become so cool?" Quinn groaned muffled into his hands.

 

"Hey, why don't we enter this?" Riku tugged on Quinn's shirt and pointed towards the sign that said: 

 

"Life is a game. Play it." - Mother Theresa

 

"A music festival could be fun. Just the way to get your spirits up!"

 

"I mean I don't know... I'm grounded, and I've never exactly been religious, I'm not so-"

 

"When did you become such a worry-wart? Come on!" Riku dragged Quinn forward and both young men signed their names onto slips before dropping them into the raffle bin.

[Hakima]

Class was, unsurprisingly, difficult and boring. American History was a blur of names and dates; events he couldn’t remember, orchestrated by people he didn’t care about. His Biology class was debatably worse. It was difficult to bring his grade up in the class because he hadn’t paid attention to the basics years before, so trying to understand the advanced material without a grasp of the fundamentals was hellish. He caught a girl staring at his ankle monitor several times throughout the class, instead of paying attention, which in turn distracted him so he missed part of the lecture too. Stupid b*tch. Luckily, the last half of his day was his two best subjects, Gym and Woodworking, and then he was free for the day.

 

Tyler snatched up his bag and trudged out of class when they were dismissed for the end of day assembly . Normally, Woodworking was a subject he actually enjoyed. It was relaxing to start with an ugly lump of material and slowly shape it into something usable, and they were in the middle of making inn tables, but his thoughts had been consumed by “R’s” mysterious note since he had found it.

 

Still, there was no chance in hell he was willingly sitting through an assembly for some music festival. He slipped out the door the first chance he got and spent most of the remaining hour of school hiding inside of his car. He was mostly just killing time until everyone was dismissed and the clubs would begin.

 

Eventually, once the assembly had wrapped up, he found himself gravitating towards the same place he always went to when he was stressed. A car garage. “Hey. Sorry ‘bout missing the last few meetings, been busy. What we workin’ on today?” he asked, walking into the Automotive Club’s shop and throwing his bag down.

 

Nathan was knee deep in the pit, beneath a 2020 Chrysler with Jake.  “Hey pal,” he called from beneath the vehicle. “Right now, I’m teaching the rookie the ropes.  How to change the oil - properly - and basic maintenance. But you and Hensley can check under the hood of that old Charger if you want.  It should be good. Then after that, I think it needs an alignment.”

 

Tyler stripped off his coat and tossed it onto a nearby chair. “Will do. Normally I’d let you take the lead on this, Hensley, but I’m just tryin’ to veg out today.” He walked over to the Charger and popped the hood. It groaned in protest, but he forced it up with a rough shove. The earthy smell of rust, oil and grime brought with it a familiar comfort that nothing else quite could. “Let’s get to work.”

 

 

When Tyler eventually emerged from school, there would be an old model Impala parked just off of campus, in pristine condition. Outside of it, Paul was talking to an older Latin man with a beard. Then, the Latin man pointed directly at Tyler. Paul turned around and stared at Tyler for a second, before turning back to the Latin man. They were having an indistinct conversation that Tyler wouldn’t quite be able to overhear. The Latin man stood beside the Impala and a pitch black window rolled down, and smoke came billowing out of it. Paul’s head disappeared momentarily, and then the window rolled back up.

 

Paul emerged again and turned around to Tyler and tried to flag him down.

 

Tyler wasn’t sure why but alarm bells were ringing in his head. He kept his distance, but he acknowledged Paul with a nod. “What’s up?” he said loud enough to be heard across the parking lot.

 

Paul looked to the Latin man and then back at Tyler. He slowly started approaching Tyler, hands in his pockets. “You got a minute?” he called back.

 

Tyler gestured to himself. He was covered in grease from head-to-toe, his hair plastered to his head by oil and sweat. “Kinda tryin’ to get home and take a shower. Why? What’s up?” He looked past Paul to stare at the man leaning on the Impala.

 

Paul turned back to the large Latin man and tried to wave him off. He shrugged and got inside the Impala. However, the vehicle didn’t budge. It simply idled on the side of the road. Paul kept approaching, not wanting to say anything too loudly. Finally out of shouting distance, Paul stood before Tyler and kept his head down.

 

“Did you get a letter? Today? Recently?” Paul asked.

 

Tyler’s demeanor shifted in a flash. His shoulders stiffened and he worked a muscle in his jaw, tilting his head back slightly to stare up at the clouds. “Say that I did. Why do you want to know?” he was speaking softer now, but there was a tension beneath his words that screamed danger.

 

Paul let out a slow breath. “Because… I know the author.” Paul stopped to let that sink in. “I don’t know why he wrote you, but I know he’s bad news. But I’ve been asked to ‘persuade you’ into visiting him. But since they can’t hear me, I’m just gonna leave it at that.” Paul straightened up and looked over his shoulder.

 

They were still there.

 

Tyler glared at the Impala unflinchingly. “Aight. Tell ‘em I heard the message. Oh and... “ he raised his voice loud enough that the man in the Impala would hear. “Tell him stay the funk away from this school. I don’t mix business and personal life.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Paul said. “I’ll let him know.” As Paul walked away, he shivered. He angrily threw up a hand at the Impala and began walking toward Orleans Avenue. The Impala pulled alongside him and more smoke skewed the view inside.

 

However, Paul could be heard barking near the top of his lungs. “Stay away from my funking school,” he snapped. Paul pulled his head out of the window and marched off. The Impala skidded into a u-turn and peeled away.

 

Tyler called after him before he got very far. “Paul!” he fished his keys out of his pocket. “You want a ride home? I, erh… Dunno if that caused you to miss the bus or not. Haven’t seen you drive so…”

 

Paul stopped where he was and turned around. “Uh,” Paul looked around. It was a little after 4:50. With 5 o’clock traffic about to start, he wouldn’t get home at this rate until after eight p.m. “Yeah. Yeah, I appreciate it. And maybe we can talk in private.”

 

“Alright.” Tyler clicked his keyfob and a car a few spaces over suddenly rumbled to life. “That one’s mine. Quick rundown of the rules: no drinks without screw-on lids, no food that crumbles, and if you smoke you better get it out of your system before you get in.” He walked over and opened the driver’s side door after that, fishing a few towels out of the back and draping them across his seat.

 

Paul nodded. “No worries. I don’t smoke and I have a bottle of water with a lid so we’re all good. Nice ride by the way,” Paul said, admiring the vehicle as he approached. “What year is it?”

 

“2013. My old man got the hollowed out body from a scrap yard when I was twelve and we restored it, inside and out.” Tyler leaned on the roof of the car and grinned. “Imagine rolling up to your tenth grade year in this thing.”

 

Paul opened the passenger door slowly and slid inside, careful not to slam the door behind him. While Tyler’s vehicle was a marvel, he couldn’t shake the conversation they just had. “Let’s take the scenic route. I’ll leave you a dub for gas.” Paul pulled a crisp twenty dollar bill from his wallet and left it in Tyler’s cupholder; it was a brand new bill. That was his way of apologizing while trying to suggest they ride slowly to discuss this evening’s events.

 

Tyler dropped into the driver’s seat and pulled his door shut behind him. “Will do,” he said, eyeing the twenty as he pulled his seatbelt on. Maybe he wasn’t the only one getting into some dirty dealings. “I’ll be real, I ain’t tellin’ anymore than I’ve gotta, and I’ll decide what I’ve gotta tell you based off your explanation for whatever the funk that was.”

 

He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, headed for the nearest highway. If they were gonna cruise, they were at least gonna cruise at a reasonable speed.

 

 

“The Latino homie is Tito. Not his real name obviously,” Paul started. “He’s the number one. Right hand of ‘god’,” Paul said with air quotes. “I’ve known him for sixteen of my seventeen years on this earth. He’s my non-biological guardian. When I’m short, he’ll just hit me up, no questions.” Paul was skirting around the real issue.

 

“But I’m sure since you’ve seen his face, he’s not the one you have questions about.” Paul sat up straight in his seat and got comfortable. “His boss goes by Red,” Paul explained. “I know him because he’s my good for nothin’ brother. And he’s been making a lot of noise down here for the last… year and some change from what little I gather.” Paul never took his eyes off the highway in front of them. “He owns the East coast and down south Guerillas. They’re a mix of bloods and somethin’ else. It’s an old gang that’s been rebranded.”

 

Tyler grunted. That certainly filled in a lot of gaps in what was going on. “So your brother, this Red guy,  he’s tryin’ for total control right now?”

 

Paul scoffed softly. “Tryin’?” Paul kept his head straight. “Tito said he’s got everything. Crip hoods ain’t crip hoods no more. Latin Kings have no territory. Cops being bought out. Weight being moved like never before. And he’s got eyes and ears everywhere. But I’m willing to bet there’s one spot he won’t ever take.” Paul thought about the Quarter. “Jackson Square and the Quarter. He always said he hated Switzerland but even the streets got rules, I guess. Plus, whoever got the Square and the Quarter is not to be funked with. Even Red wouldn’t go there.”

 

Tyler laid on the gas and pulled into the passing lane, rocketing past several cars. “Okay, correction, he’s in nearly total control. So why’s he botherin’ me?”

 

Paul finally looked up from the highway and raised an eyebrow. “My best guess? Whoever you were runnin’ with was good people with him or his connects. Red might be a piece of sheet but he’ll never let a hustler go hungry. Or,” Paul said, facing back to the highway. “He needs a new soldier. He might be recruiting again and got your name from your previous people.”

 

Paul shrugged. “Only other thing I can think of, is, Red needs your eyes for something related to our school. But that seems highly convoluted and unlikely, so it’s probably one of the former.”

 

Tyler didn’t say anything for a few minutes. The highway blurred around them and the cars turned into flashes of color in the window, the dial on his speedometer quickly rising. “So what’s your stake in this? Just the innocent little brother?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.

 

Paul shook his head. “He wants me to be his successor or some bullshit. Talking about how he’s building an empire to leave to me. I don’t fuckin’ want it. But I’m always benefitting from it,” Paul said, as he thought about that day in the park. “He keeps sending me and mom money. Bills are always paid. He sent me--he sent me a funking check to cover my tuition for any of four or five colleges I choose.” Paul’s fists were clenched.

 

“I keep trying to get away from him. But it’s like he and I are drawn to each other,” Paul said. He sighed. “Look, I know that’s the last thing you wanna hear, and I’m sorry. But it’s true. And I’m sorry that you got wrapped up in his sheet. But if you want out, I’m sure I can make him see reason.”

 

“Sorry?” Tyler snorted with laughter. “Center console, beneath a couple of rags. Grab the envelope.”

 

Paul opened the console and pulled out the envelope. It was filled with money--at least a grand! “sheet,” Paul whispered.  “So, what’s your move?”

 

“Not really sure. There was a letter with it to, tryin’ to recruit me. Found it yesterday in my locker, spent most of today pissed off trying to figure out who the funk ‘R’ was,” Tyler said. He slowed down the car to let someone merge onto the highway. “I thought I had gotten you mixed up in my mess for a minute. I’m an jabroni, but I ain’t tryin’ to pull anybody else down with me.” He was relieved to know that he hadn’t accidentally funked someone else’s life up. “Your brother wants me to meet with someone in Kenner this Saturday though. Think it’s worth showin’ up?”

 

For whatever reason, Paul chuckled. “Believe it or not, yeah. Yeah, I think so. You gonna want company?”

 

“Well, two bodies are harder to hide than one, so probably safer that way,” Tyler smirked.

 

“Aight then. It’s a deal,” Paul said.

 

There was a moment of silence between Paul and Tyler. Neither of them could hear it, but voices spoke on the winds of change. Paul and Tyler had formed a bond and reached an agreement.

 

BGM

 

I am thou, thou art I.
Thou hast acquired a new vow.
It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity.
With the birth of the TOWER Arcana, I have obtained the winds of blessing that shall lead to freedom and new power...