welcome
Welcome delinquents to PHS #552. A few reminders, no rough housing, no running in the hallways, no cheating, and no talking back to your teachers. Beyond that, enjoy yourselves. After all these are the years you’ll look back on, and remember, you mother fuckers peaked too early.
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credits
Public Highschool #552 was rebooted by Xereon and Aether. Content is copyrighted to PHS #552 unless otherwise stated. The skin is created by Wolf of Gangnam Style. The board and thread remodel is by Kagney and has been heavily edited. Banner Image Credit. Chatbox Credit
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NEW RP DISCORD SERVER. CONTACT "Shugo Yuy#5730" ON DISCORD FOR INFO. |
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COME IN COME ALL AND WATCH THE SPECTACULAR STUDENTS FROM PUBLIC HIGH SCHOOL 552 AS THEY PIT AGAINST EACH OTHER IN BAREKNUCKLE BEATDOWN! Watch as students go toe to toe on this little tournament with an unbelievable budget allocation! See them bite each other in arena made of LEGOS! Make each other bleed in an artificial JUNGLE!, even go as far as making them break bones under an artificial STORM! Really, HOW BIG IS THE BUDGET ON THIS SHIT! SO PLACE OUR BETS AND GO WATCH BAREKNUCKLE BEATDOWN NOW!
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A brand new group is on the making, The Apostles, a Pillar-like group led by none other than our brand new headmaster, Gregoire Girard. A student body that would lead students and enforce the law on this little school of ours. Little is still known about this student body, but who knows? It might just be what the school needs.
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A lunch box is seen last Friday, around 12:37:08pm with an encouraging note packed inside. This appalling display that utterly lacked manliness has left many students stunned and outrage, as some decided, after a long while, to speak out against it.
Full Story Here.
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user is offline ●
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Do not try to fight a lion if you are not one yourself.
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No Group
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Post by Leon Zamorano on Dec 12, 2015 21:23:16 GMT -5
'THOK!' Leon's hands were numb as he hit the light pole yet again. His hands gripping the bat so tight, that his knuckles were milk white, it looked as if they would split the skin. It was night time, the chilly air made his breath stand out as puffs of white mist. He had donned a loose shirt, seemingly numb to the cold weather, as he struck the light pole yet again. 'THOK!' The blow reverberated up his arms, travelling into his shoulders. He was out of breath, tired and sweaty, for a moment it seemed the angry youth had finally calmed down. He took a deep shaky breath, allowing his mind a single thought, 'She's gone.'. his blood was set aflame yet again. Standing back to his feet he went back to smashing his baseball bat into the light pole, grunting with exertion and obvious anger. Hot tears blinded him, he blinked them away, hitting it again, and again. "IT'S NOT TRUE, IT'S NOT TRUEEE! PLEASE IT'S NOT REAL!" He shouted out, the sound echoing towards the eerily empty New York Street. It felt like he was all alone, and as far as he was concerned he was, his sister was gone. Murdered. And now he was all alone.
Colton Cavalier "Leo"
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user is offline ●
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Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence.
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No Group
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Post by Colton Cavalier "Leo" on Dec 13, 2015 10:53:32 GMT -5
 | When nothing goes right.. I'll go left |
words: 000 • tags: you • notes: stuff [googlefont="VT323"][googlefont="Oswald"] |
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user is offline ●
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Do not try to fight a lion if you are not one yourself.
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No Group
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Post by Leon Zamorano on Dec 13, 2015 18:35:48 GMT -5
Leon panted, looking to his right, the corner of his eye catching glimpse of someone. Colton would find that his words had fallen on deaf, and distressed ears, as Leon turned to the teen, a pained expression on his face, as tracks of tears made their way down his cheeks. Leon was bordering on delusional, seeing Colton as an enemy, and lumbered towards him, one shaky step at a time, his bat dragging on the floor behind him. The rage from before had nested itself in the pit of his gut, as fierce as a den of Cobra's. Leon muttered, just barely loud enough to hear.
"Give her back . . ."
He took another step towards Colton, as he slowly raised his bat. "Giver her back!" He would lunge forward, taking a lazy swing for Colton's mid section, the bat's path crossing from right to left.
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user is offline ●
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Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence.
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No Group
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Post by Colton Cavalier "Leo" on Dec 15, 2015 13:47:05 GMT -5
| When nothing goes right.. I'll go left |
The chilly New York air nipped at Leo’s bare skin as he stood out in the street, his hands burrowed deep into his pants pockets. He was awaiting any type of response from the young man, anything other than him just hitting the light post. And it was a success! Unfortunately. The kid mumbled something about giving something, or someone, back. Obviously, Leo had no idea what this kid was talking about. All he knew was that he wasn’t in the right state of mind. Tears caressed his rosy cheeks as he slumped towards the redheaded kick-boxer. Maybe it was hormones? It very well could have been. A bully or thug could have possibly stolen something from him, or he just recently lost a girlfriend or boyfriend. At that age, and even now, losing a significant other hurt. Those were the only two options Leo could think of at the moment, as he didn’t have time to think of any others. The kid was already a few feet in front of him, violently swinging his bat towards Leo’s abdomen. Like clockwork, Leo shot his right leg out, the base of his heel going straight for the kid’s chest in order to, at the very least, knock the air out of his lungs and push him back. At the same time, he brought his left arm upwards, using the base of his forearm and bicep to block the bat strike. Although Leo was known for being able to take hits that would make any normal human quiver, this strike still hurt like hell. The bat bounced off of Leo’s bicep, his skin and muscles stinging from the impact. He knew this was going to leave a massive bruise come morning. “Chill the hell out, dude!”words: 000 • tags: you • notes: stuff [googlefont="VT323"][googlefont="Oswald"] |
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user is offline ●
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Do not try to fight a lion if you are not one yourself.
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No Group
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Post by Leon Zamorano on Dec 23, 2015 16:42:47 GMT -5
((OOC: Was preoccupied with a lot of stuff, but my schedule has cleared up! So if you're still down.))
Leon shivered, but he felt nothing. The brisk New York breeze whispered across his skin, his thin shirt was nary a defense against the wind, but it seemed to not effect him. He felt empty, all he had was the anger, and he welcomed it. His mind felt like it was stuck in a thick mud, his thoughts were sluggish. With a grunt he swung his bat. The swing reverberated up his arm as it was blocked, his swinging arm bouncing backwards after coming in contact with Leo's arm.
His hand stung; he had been outside striking the base of the light pole for what seemed like an eternity. Pins and needles prickled the palm of his right hand all the way to his wrist. Leon was only slightly aware that the person in front of him was speaking to him. Raising his head at the sound of a voice, he would make eye contact as a sad smile crossed his face. "Y-You. Did you know her? Zoe, s-she went to school here, in this damn city. 552, she went to 552." He hadn't meant to speak, the words spilling from his mouth. There was no way he knew his sister, or had even been to that school, there was no way in hell. After a moment he would shake his head, dropping the bat to the floor with a clatter.
He would take a few sluggish steps towards Leo. "H-Hit me. P-Please it can't be real." , he would as, tears rimming his eyes before he would blink them away. If Leo didn't attack, Leon would aim a sloppy straight for the taller boy's chest.
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