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Fenrir
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Biting The Hand That Feeds
[ *  *  *  * ]
The day was not off to a great start for Gerald. With a competition coming up soon his coach on the track team was pushing him hard in practice and the strain was starting to wear him down; fast though he might be Gerald wasn’t built for endurance and there simply weren’t enough hours in the night for him to fully recover from the physical exertion and Gerald was increasingly finding his waking hours plagued with aching joints and residual tiredness.

As he walked down the hallways of the school at random, having just been let out of his last class, he could feel the effects of yesterdays training session still bothering him. His feel felt leaden and his backpack weighed heavily on his shoulders; he placed his left hand over his right shoulder and rotated the joint, trying to work at a kink in the process.

The teen’s attempts to rectify this by catching up on his sleep during lessons weren’t going very well either. For some reason his teachers were reluctant to let him snore his way through their classes and he kept being rudely awoken, his last attempt netting him a detention later in the week as well. Still he had a free period next and if he could just find a nice, quiet, secluded corner somewhere he’d be set; he doubted he could get to sleep at this point but he could at least wind down and rest.

Gerald was about to set about doing just that when he spotted one of the last people he wanted to see enter the hallway from the opposite end. One of his more persistent aggressors had just made an appearance, currently distracted by a conversation he was having with a couple of his friends. He didn’t appear to have spotted Gerald just yet among the small number of students between them – one of the benefits of being so short – and the teen sought to use the opening to get away clean before he could. He just did not have the energy to deal with this guy today.

Seeing no other convenient escape avenues Gerald went straight for the door that stood a few feet in front and to the right of him, ducking into the classroom and closing the door without bothering to check whether it was occupied or not. Turning around he was somewhat relieved to find that he hadn’t just crashed a class and that the room was indeed unoccupied.

Well, mostly. There was one other person in the not-so-empty classroom; a girl was stood near to the teacher’s desk, instrument in hand, apparently seeking to use the room during her free period as well. Gerald quickly looked her over, taking in her appearance. She didn’t seem familiar too him, she didn’t look like any of the girls from his classes; he was pretty sure he would have noticed her otherwise, what with her dark clothing, pierced lip and single strip of dyed hair. She didn’t look like most of the other girls in this school.

Seeking to say something before things got awkward, Gerald started things off with a “’Sup”, before following it with, “Nice guitar.”
Second Chances V2:
Aaron Chalmers - All American 2.0
Quote: "Fuck off Michael."
Weapon: Philadelphia Derringer
Location: Say it with Firecrackers!
Status: Deceased - Shot through the heart

The Departed
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Drop the D · Program V2 Sandbox
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