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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Let's sleep through the end of this world.
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❝ Iconoclast ❞
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Lightning Gang
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Post by Ira Defaire on Dec 22, 2015 9:35:38 GMT -5
木漏れ日 Komorebi (n) : Sunlight filtering through the trees.
Laughing quietly, Ira allowed herself to watch the sun. It was beginning to set behind a cloudy white sky, as the pyre allowed itself to be engulfed, before bursting into millions of miniscule golden sparks. Soft light filtered through the trees as she resumed her way down the twisty path she found herself in. She didn't know why she was in the forest. She headed there after finding herself thoroughly nauseated by the idea of funerals and mourning, for she absolutely loathed tears. It didn't do any good, and her heart sank a little when she witnessed tears leaking through her friends eyes. Turning away, almost in shame, she headed out, unable to face the reality of the situation. Reaching out to grasp at the sunlight futilely, she sat in the tiny clearing, uncertain if she should head back soon. She wasn't entirely clear regarding how safe America was, but her attention was entirely diverted by the ghost of her past, haunting her consistently. They were entering, gushing at her, one after another, each in their own epitome of pain, anger and bitterness. Narrowing her eyes, she cocked her head and watched the tiny ant on the floor, attempting to escape the inevitable crush her foot was about to exert upon it. It scurried off, and she brought her foot down upon it, almost too eagerly. She was determined to have some control over her life, and the methods she was reduced too was pathetic. But they were satisfying, she thought, as she awaited, albeit rather desparingly, for something exciting to happen. ❝ Lexington
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user is offline ●
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I'm a killer, like Rambo.
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H.O.F
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Pillar
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Post by Lexington on Dec 23, 2015 10:20:10 GMT -5
Okay, so today was the day. Lexington stood outside of his garage with the door wide open, hands covered in oil and various fluids. He walked over to his red toolbox and picked up a small white cylindrical container, when he opened it up there was a powdery green substance, he rubbed his hands with the workman's powder and slowly the oil and grime began to separate from his fingers. He closed the container and tossed it back into the red toolbox. Our friend had just finished rebuilding his Honda CR500 2-stroke motor and he tweaked the gear ratio allowing the bike to reach close to 135 mph, after having nearly trashed it fighting Christmas time monsters earlier in the month. " Alrighty, lets test this baby out" Lexington was already prepped to go riding, he was already wearing his riding boots, pants and jacket. The jacket was white with a Red Bull emblem in the middle, Pants were also white with a dark blue stripe going down each lateral side of the legs. Boots were simply black and shin high. The only thing he was missing was a helmet, which was sitting on the handlebar. Lexington picked up his toolbox and placed it underneath his workbench. He hopped on the Honda and kickstarted it, he brought his left hand up to the gas meter and tapped it, with his right hand he reached over to the workbench next to him and strapped his GoPro onto his helmet. " Alrighty, full tank of gas, lets go riding!" He kicked the kickstand from underneath the bike and began to coast towards the garage opening, quickly reaching down on his way out, Lexington grabbed his jerry can filled with gasoline and then he pressed the garage door button so it would close. Off he rode, towards the forest with a loud Braaaaap. He took off going roughly 50 mph. By the time the Pillar reached the forest, Lexington had accrued a small following, about seven cops were on his tail since, well, you can't ride a dirt bike like his out on the street as recklessly as he was. His jerry can was already strapped onto the the left rear panel of the bike in case he needed to refuel. With no map and only his phone to rely on to get back, Lexington went off adventuring into the boonies of Catskill. Quickly he began to sing as he hit the bike trail, it was a thin dusty trail and only a dirtbike or mountain bike could really maneuver. Leaving the One-time in his aftermath of dust and flung mud. Lexington hit the woops and took off deeper into the forest. " Heigh ho, heigh ho, its off to work I go, heigh ho." After about 25 minutes of incredibly loud and powerful riding. Lexington came to a small clearing, quickly he peeked in his side rearview to see if he was still being followed and surely he was not. When you're going as fast as Lex was and you stick yourself deep into the forest. The law can't do nothin. Anyways back to what I was saying. Lexington hit the throttle about two times and it gave loud positive feedback. " It's a good thing ma showed me how to work these motors." He said as he slowly began to ride around the clearing, quickly he noticed a girl sitting down. She appeared to be down on her luck, or she was straight out of one of those horror movies. Lexington now had several options running through his head. " Okay... Either A, this lady is straight out of one of those horror movies and the second I talk to her imma get my stomach eaten. B, this chick is down on her luck and is out here sulking. C, maybe I should just leave and pretend I never saw her... although I am staring right at her through my tinted goggles... Or D, I'm overthinking this waaay too much" Lexington sat there on his bike as it continued to idle and his mind continued to filter solutions. " Hmm what to do... what to do.." He said as he brought his left hand up from his handlebar and began to tap on his chin with his left index finger. " Oh! I know" Lexington walked the bike a wee bit closer to the lady and tried to get a good look at her face. " She seems kinda familiar and forest romance aint that bad.." Lexington rode closer and parked his bike on top of an ant hill that he obviously didn't see. He switched off the bike and got off of the bike so he could stand near the lady. " So uh... nice day to.. yanno... sit out in the forest..." Lexington said awkwardly as he began to undo the straps on his helmet. - Ira Defaire
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user is offline ●
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Let's sleep through the end of this world.
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“
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❝ Iconoclast ❞
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Lightning Gang
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Post by Ira Defaire on Jan 11, 2016 7:01:41 GMT -5
She didn't turn around when she heard the roar of the motorcycle, for she pushed through the assumption that it was another passer-by. A strand of hair fell onto her face, as she remained immobile, until she heard someone addressing her. Her eyes were squeezed shut when he approached her, and remaining in her state of epistemic ambivalence, she rested her hands on her thighs when she heard a familiar, and almost gentle voice. "My house is on fire." With that, Ira still didn't turn around. Memories haunted her, and she remembered the guy's voice--being in his grasp while he ran for it, and being utterly confused as they both regarded each other with drunken perspectives and dizzy looks. The sentence she stated carried a hint of oddity, but her head was too dizzy. She was rendered incapable of thinking clearly then, but she could reply somewhat civilly, while keeping a dignified position. - Lexington
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