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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Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 28, 2015 16:59:08 GMT -5
Paul saw many faces that day.
A school Counselor.
A police officer.
A girl gut punching a kid until his organs turned to mash.
He couldn’t recall all the faces or bodies that had brushed by him in the hall, leaving a somewhat unfamiliar stain of warmth on his thin frame. Probably a good thing. Still, it made him realize that he was cold- not just now, but always cold. No matter how many layers he wore, it always felt like an ice box rested in his stomach, sending it’s chilling tendrils up his spine. It was wasn’t like he cared much. How he dressed almost seemed to coax his body into lowering it’s core temp, leaving him a mass of cool parts to the touch. His black sweater, neckline swung low to show the white shirt underneath, was a stark contrast to the colorful sea of humanity that bled into the hallways from the classrooms around him. A low din of coalescing voices curled around his ears, the piercing on the top part of his right ear almost humming with the sounds.
He was uncomfortable around so many people.
There was a time when the lambs were a comfort zone for him. A clear and easy river of sports, fashion and parties that gave meaning to a certain stretch of the young persona. When Sheldon died, things seemed to change for him. He stopped caring about what his peers thought so much. He felt clear headed and in control around trees and silence. Alcohol and Weed didn’t seem so important to him anymore, and he left sports simply for lack of joy. For all these reasons and more, he found fewer and fewer connections to his old friends, to his old life. His old…him. He got a piercing, he wore his glasses instead of contacts, and he dressed in a way that left him gray and unimportant in a crowd.
Despite all these “Advancements”, as he had taken to calling them, he grew to understand that in this place, there was no gray. That people here seemed on edge, as though they were translating every pent up sexual or hormonal burden into a cocktail of sincere discomfiture and tumultuous rage. He did his best to stay out of the light- to skirt the “Pillars” of power and remain a neutral nobody. He wanted to finish out his years without a record that would make his aggrandizement to adulthood less desirable to himself or those around him.
Not everyone gets what they want though, that’s for sure.
He callously flicked the dial on his locker, eyes trimming the numbers as his fingers deftly whittled his combination in. He opened it cautiously, replacing the text for science with the one for math.
“Tch….Algebra. What a bitch.”
He used his index and middle finger to slowly close the metal contraption, turning with it’s sealing and leaning against the frame. He tilted his head back, letting the rear of his skull rest gently on the cool alloy and closing his eyes. He was not anticipating an endearing instruction on Quadratic formulas and exponential Identities. He posed a risky idea to himself, one that seemed quite attractive the longer he gave it to settle in.
‘How long could I stay here without being caught?'
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user is offline ●
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Making my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass and I'm home bound. DUN NUH NUH NUH NUH NUH NA DUH
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No Group
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Post by chiasa on Jul 28, 2015 17:19:19 GMT -5
Chiasa watched the boy from a far and smiled to herself. He must be new, just like her. She walked over to him and waved.
"Hey, I couldn't help but notice that I've never seen your face around before, are you new?" She asked, politely.
"What is your name? Mine is Chiasa." She said, looking up at the taller boy.
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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 Deleted on Jul 28, 2015 17:48:21 GMT -5
A voice spread the waves of laughter and discussion around him. His eyes opened, and his head lowered to pick up the female that stood in front of him. His eyes would mirror the shutter of a camera on a tripod as his face lost a wisp of color. A g-girl? Why was she speaking to him? What did she want? He swallowed, his throat bulging in a nigh-comical way. A thin layer of sweat creased his brow, and his palms were so slick the text he held at the binding slipped from his grasp and crashed into the floor. His body lurched as he bent and gripped the book, clasping it close to his chest as his feet slipped to the side, shirking around her.
"Uh...Uh....Y-yeah. I'm a-actually late for al..class. Class yeah I should...go."
He started backing away frivolously, as though she were a nightmare stepped into the real world. His spine crashed into another male, who seemed short enough to pass for a fifth grader, yet whose arms were wide enough to pass for a body builder. Mighty Mouse turned at the same time Paul did, the taller of the two clearly forming the sincerest of apologies to try and appease the steroid popping ball of fury. Instead of being given the time to do so, the smaller students hands slammed into his chest sending him stumbling backward and crashing onto his ass. His book was flung aside, hair flopping and glasses skewing. Paul got back to his feet rapidly, not wanting to remain on the ground with someone who might mistake him for a slim jim and decide to "snap" a bite.
"H-hey, sorry! I didn't mean to-"
Clearly, these words were lost on the fellow, who seemed to take the bump as a personal slight against him, his mother, his cousins and his entire family line. He was pushing up his sleeves, ready to pummel Paul with much gusto.
'First day, Paul! Way to go!'
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user is offline ●
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Making my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass and I'm home bound. DUN NUH NUH NUH NUH NUH NA DUH
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No Group
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Post by chiasa on Jul 28, 2015 18:07:23 GMT -5
Chiasa witnessed the scene and frowned. She began to run at a fast pace and jumped up into the air, and jump kicked the guy in the face, before doing a back-flip and landing on the ground in front of the boy.
"Hey, leave him alone! He's with me!" She said, glaring at the boy.
The boy got back up and charged towards her, and she grabbed his arm and flipped him onto his back, before kicking his ribs.
"Wanna try that again, or do you want to live?" She hissed, getting in the male's face.
The boy quickly got up and ran away screaming.
Chiasa turned to Paul and smiled slightly, holding her hand out.
"Hey, you alright?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.
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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 Deleted on Jul 28, 2015 19:42:25 GMT -5
His eyes caught on the female, his form reflexively jerking to the side as she kicked the man in the head, lunging past Paul. Her form seemed disjointed, fractured in power and grace. The boy she put her spurs to didn't even have the subtle courage to look his enemy in the face when he surrendered. He fled, wailing and shaking in terror. Paul's measured gaze was on sasquatchs' compatriots, who had ushered themselves forward with arms outstretched. Their murderous intent seemed palpable, the gangly male almost turning his nose up in disdain at the putrid flavor of their animosity. He stuck out a hand, jutting it into the girls' shoulder as he rushed by her, his purpose being to knock her out of the way of the giant fist the gunned into the airspace her head had previously occupied.
Paul's mind refitted itself for dual purpose- to restrict their ability to retaliate, and to cut wide an opening for retreat. He stopped suddenly on his right foot, torquing his hips and throwing his left foot into a wide and low kick for the right side of the punching crony's right leg. The kick's niche was utilized beautifully, metamorphosing from a blunt instrument of force to a scalpel of finesse. It's wide, distinct arc would slash the mans footing fully to the left, throwing his upper body right and down in a brutally harsh leg sweep. His whole right side would hit the ground hard enough to bruise or break bone, his own weight and unbalanced form adding a complex multiplier to the power of the attack.
Paul planted that foot and spun clockwise, the sole of his shoe spinning in place like a top as his previously stationary right leg lifted and struck out like a viper in a hardly seen spinning back kick. It knocked a deep and dull jet of blood and teeth from the second brutes mouth, lifting him and depositing him on the ground where a following cough with freckle the tile with more.
Paul was already taking the elbow of his gun-ho girl friend (That's girl space friend, as in female to whom he could relate current actions or situations to and therefore feel a touch of companionship for) and bolting through the huddle crowd of onlookers with a panicked fervor. Once the corner was rounded he would dart into the nearest empty classroom and close the door, hiding away from the windows so as not to be detected.
This all under the assumption, of course, that the lady came without incident.
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user is offline ●
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Making my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass and I'm home bound. DUN NUH NUH NUH NUH NUH NA DUH
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No Group
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Post by chiasa on Jul 29, 2015 11:52:47 GMT -5
Tagging: @maybeck
Chiasa looked at the black haired boy who practically dragged her into a nearby empty classroom. She sat beside him and watched him, clearly amused by his odd behavior.
It was truly weird how he seemed all shy and distant a few minutes ago, but when she saved his life, he seemed to open up a little.
She shrugged it off and leaned back against the wall, lost in thought about what they would be doing in her art class today. It was one of her favorite classes.
She then looked at the boy.
"You never told me your name you know." She said, looking him up and down.
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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 Deleted on Jul 31, 2015 9:53:43 GMT -5
Contrary to what may have been dancing in this females mind, he was not feeling more open despite the circumstances. He was feeling a swelling of dread in his stomach, bubbles of sweat popping across his forehead as he slowly turned to look at her. He gave another audible gulp but took a slow and deep breath.
"P-paul."
His voice cracked, drawing a withering sense of self-deprecation. Why did they do this to him? He never would have imagined that growing old, he would grow apart from women. He enjoyed them and their form and everything, but opening his mouth to speak with one seemed to freeze him still. He decided to attempt approaching his fear with some self respect.
"T-thank you. For fighting f-for me."
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user is offline ●
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Making my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass and I'm home bound. DUN NUH NUH NUH NUH NUH NA DUH
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No Group
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Post by chiasa on Aug 1, 2015 16:32:49 GMT -5
Chiasa looked at the boy and smiled slightly. "No problem, and you must not be used to talking to girls huh, cause it's not very hard to notice that you get all pale and start to stutter when a girl talks to you." She said, observing the male's behavior.
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