DtP

"Did you hear what happened?"

"Madam President has hired some delinquent to fight off the Weather!"

"Who is it?"

"Daft. Daft the Punk!"

"That inFamous crook?! but how?!"

"Prolly' cos they fucked."

"They screwed?! Where, in the bathroom, doggy style?"

"Who cares about that?! It's probably just gossip and rumor! What if Daft is even worse than the Weather Report?! We're done for!"

"I still think they're an item, those two…"

-

The actual delinquent in question was laying inside a broken bus in the forest near the school, lounging around in one of his 'secret hideouts.' He took a sip of some juice he had, and lied back down. Skipping class never felt so good, as he let himself fall into a peaceful slumber...

The woman who called herself Cynic, and was known by that name to anyone who felt the need to speak of or to her, was not where, by law and by school regulation, she was required to be at that moment--that is, class. Chemistry, to be specific. At this point, Instructor Bruner was in all likeliness droning on about chemical reactions and the structures of atomic matter, and the students who would have ditched if they had the stones to break the school policy were in all likeliness currently being lulled into a doze far more peaceful and relaxing than the one they got every night.

It was not altogether unusual for Cynic, at times, to simply not show up for a class. Her absence was noted by the students who normally sat nearby her--a certain quality to the atmosphere was gone, as if a weight had been lifted from the air and the space around them suddenly felt...closer together. And when, the next day, they returned to class to find the seat occupied once more by that same presence, it was like the air around her was being pulled down and everyone who sat around her felt like they were much farther from one another. It was just one of those unexplained things, yet another strange aspect of Cynic--and there were very many 'strange aspects' to be spoken of when it came to the girl who at times seemed more presence than person, like a sudden gust of wind on the breeze or a ripple on the surface of an otherwise pristine pond. Ripples that spread out across the expanse of water, lost their significance, and slowly faded from existence, leaving the pond just as it had always been, as if the ripple had never existed, just for a second, on its surface.

She felt her back, clad in leather, leaning against the brick wall that adorned one of many little alleys located conveniently near and around the local high school; usually they were empty, though sometimes she would walk into one and find a junkie or a vagrant lying on the cold concrete, wrapped in makeshift clothes and blankets. They barely rustled or moved when Cynic withdrew a slim cigarette from within her jacket and lit up; on occasion a vagrant would wearily raise themselves from the ground and ask for a smoke, and she would hand over a cigarette and light it for them. At times they merely thanked her and silently took to sitting upright like exhausted stone statues, issuing smoke from the end of the cigarette that was not once removed from their lips until only an ash-ridden butt was left. Other times they fell to a bit of conversation--much as it would have shocked anyone back at that school to think the typically laconic girl would actively speak to anyone, but for Cynic it was always easier to relate with the cold existences she sometimes found in the alleys rather than to the kids back at Gou.

This time, the alley was empty except for Cynic. She brushed a dreadlock of red, orange, and faded black from her face as her other hand, holding a cigarette between two fingers, reached up to return the pencil-thin filter to her razor-sharp, pale lips. There was an almost mantra-like quality to the way in which Cynic smoked--the slow, almost contemplative raising and lowering of her hand, the back displaying the Eye of Horus, the wisps of vapour that reluctantly escaped the end of the cigarette, the way a steady stream of smoke would issue like clouds from her lips as they formed a perfect o and blew out the smoke; it seemed, by her doing, less like a method of self-destruction and more like the calm, thoughtful way a Buddhist monk cared for his rock garden, or the way a poet drew their pen across paper, laying down thoughts and feelings in the form of neat, black print. Like an art that took years of practice and deliberation. Headphones snaked up from the outer pocket of her jacket, reaching up to her ears, blasting Nile's "Stones of Sorrow".

When she was here, biding her time with a smoke before she felt the desire to return to the daily rituals of school, when there were no vagrants to speak to, Cynic's mind would instead wander back to what was going on in Gou High School. She was by no means considered a constituent of the wide-reaching gossip circle that existed in the school, made up mostly of chatty, cheerleader-type girls, but at the same time Cynic knew some things that were not so much as whispered amongst the gossipers. It came about whenever someone approached her for advise with a particular embarrassing or unusual situation; they'd tell her all about it because they knew if there was one person whom they could know beyond doubt wouldn't spill the beans, it was the tattooed girl who for the most part displayed no interest in socialisation or interaction. So while the other girls would be murmuring 'omigod, Dave and Anna are, like, so perfect for each other, omigod', Cynic was well aware that Dave had found out about Anna cheating on him and was contemplating how to deal with it, and had chosen to ask Cynic. She could only imagine the mess all involved would be in if the word got out about it--but if it did, it would not be her doing, and she would have nothing to do with it. Her involvement in teenage drama extended purely as far as sharing her advice when asked, and good though it typically was, she didn't want to get any more involved than that when it came to the other students. The last thing she ever wanted happening was getting caught up in any of the things that went on with the other students--and thereby potentially risk getting closer to any one of them than she would have liked.

As it happened, however, the topic the circle of gossip was currently chattering away about was not the false perfection of Dave and Anna's relationship. Though she tried not to pay much attention to it, there was no escaping the latest topic of interest--because everyone was talking about it, in hushed tones and muffled but excited voices. The notorious 'Daft'--the legendary, or rather, infamous 'delinquent'--had been called upon by First Year President Ramm S. Tein herself. Half of the gossip was about the relationship between Ramm and Daft, but the other half was far more vital--the reason he had been summoned to Gou High School: Weather Report. Not the jazz group Cynic rather enjoyed, no, the gang that gave the musical group a bad name. She had been a second year when the miscreants who would become Weather Report had first come to Gou--Cynic had watched them go from a disorganised group of thugs to an entire gang that sought to consolidate dominion over the entire school, led by two thugs who called themselves 'Princes of the Universe'--the ones who were calling the shots in Weather Report.

The gang went about bullying and roughing up whomever they liked, and Gou High School became their playground quite quickly. Some fought back, most cowered and submitted to the veritable new owners of the school. Cynic opted to do...well, what was quite to be expected of her, really: she stayed out of it completely. She changed nothing in her daily routines, made no active change in stance towards the kids who now composed Weather Report, and to this point she'd had nothing to do with them. For whatever reason, they neglected to subject Cynic to the same bullying, extorting, and all-round cruelty they enforced on everyone else.

It wasn't of much concern to her. They left her alone. That was fine with her. As long as they did so, for her, life went on just as it was...and she could bear that.

The now-spent cigarette fell to the ground, to be crushed out by the steel toe of her harness boot. "Stones of Sorrow" came to an end, and, in an abrupt change of genre and sound, the sounds of Karl Sanders' "Contemplate This on the Tree of Woe" began to trickle into her ears. A shift from Nile's usual double-bass drum assaults and heavy riffing to acoustic guitars and pan flutes--a welcome change. It was about time to return to Gou High School right about now anyway. In about ten minutes, the fourth period would give way to the lunch break, and Cynic would quietly and unobtrusively return herself to the school grounds just in time. Those who noticed her entry would watch her walking in for a moment, but as the ripples of her presence faded away, they would turn back to their light-hearted laughter and conversations, and Cynic would become nothing to them again. That suited her just fine. She didn't want to linger in anyone's mind.

People gossip. It just happens, and it's very difficult not to be involved in some way. You might not be the one talking behind the backs of your friends, you might not be the one who makes up the rumours, and you might not be one trying to ignore it all, but the truth is... If you aren't one of those people, chances are that it's your back your friends are talking behind, and it's you the rumours revolve around.

Normally, Ramm would have loved to be the centre of attention, normally she wouldn't have minded hearing what people were saying about her, and she might even start some rumours about herself if she was in the mood for it. She just wasn't, on this very ordinary day that wasn't so ordinary after all. It seemed that secrets had a habit of seeping out, and now, everyone knew what her brilliant plan was. Hiring Daft had been a great solution, she felt. Looking into the eyes of her fellow students made her believe so, because today, with the news of Daft, something just might have taken it's beginning.

The beginning of the end of The Weather Report.

Since the first time she had heard of them, she had thought that they were silly, even the name was silly! However... She stopped telling people she felt that way about them as soon as they grabbed her, pulled her into an empty classroom, and broken a few bones in her body. They probably only meant to bruise her, just to teach her a lesson, but she had ended up in the hospital, and her mother and father had been worried. Very worried. What if she never made friends again? What if she would get scars so no one would love her or marry her? What if her brain had taken damage so that she wouldn't be able to think?!

Her parents had asked the doctors questions like those. The doctors had said that it was just her bones, and that she would heal without complications.

Ramm, on the other hand thought that perhaps she had suffered some kind of mental damage, for the only thing she could think of was to get her revenge. Not so much for hurting her body, but for hurting her pride. Then, when she had returned to the school, she had made a name for herself, carefully planning every step, paving the way to power. And she had gotten it. Ramm loved being called President. Absolutely adoring it, actually.

She was on her way to get something to eat. The bell signalling that their lunch break had started had just rung, and she was planning to go buy a sandwich in the cafeteria. She was not prepared for the flood of questions that met her as soon as she walked through the doors though... Questions about Daft. Was it true? Had they done it in the bathroom? What about her boyfriend, and all such irrelevant things. It looked like she had a lot of explaining, and rumour-debunking to do.

Said Delinquent in question was just about to leave his hiding hole, heading back for the school to eat lunch. Skipping class could really pass the time for ole' Daft. Walking down the path and glaring at some lesser thugs and bishonen boys, through the doors and into the building, passing classrooms as he traversed the hallways, Watching members of Weather Report simply walk past, talking behind his back and snickering like little girls. But as long as he was known to be in the area, none of the WR even considered touching any more students until they knew what they were up against in terms of Daft.

-

Daft himself nearly met a similar fate to Ramm when she entered the lunchroom. Questions on whether or not he used 'plastic,' and 'is she pregnant?! OMG HOLY SHIT I BET SHE IS~!' and other stupid things like that. Daft…didn't want to say Ramm was…Ugly. But she wasn't his type either. Flipping out his extra large Jack Knife which he had probably slashed up, and killed various gang members with, he began to play with it, causing people to leave him alone as he made his way towards the young woman in question, so he could ask the lady what her next plans of action were, and her view on these disgusting rumors.

Getting some Nachos, Daft sat next to 'Madam President's' (as her most devoted followers called her) seat, curtains of shadow still remained over his eyes unless you were like Ramm, sititng right next to him, and seeing his whole face, which only had a couple fresh scars on it.

"…Miss Tein."

By the time the bell signifying the beginning of the lunch break had begun to reverberate across the school and students began to pour out in hordes to get their food and sit with their friends, Cynic was already in her usual place, in the seat that had since time immemorial been occupied by the girl every lunch break. It wasn't, as some might have expected from someone like Cynic, located out away from the rest of the students--if anything it was nowhere particularly special, just one of the seats in the cafeteria. In fact, it was not Cynic's conscious decision that she was almost always sitting alone--everyone else would avoid sitting near her, not vice versa. Her jacket had been cast aside, placed on the chair next to her--because she knew no one was going to sit there anyway--revealing arms covered in tattoos and displaying the lean, taut muscles that ran up each arm. The tight, sleeveless black shirt she wore was emblazoned on the front with the logo and name of the band Atheist, but was unadorned by any other decor otherwise.

Placed before her was the exact same home-made lunch she could be seen bringing to school every day--for the past three years she had attended Gou everyone was quite sure there had been no variation. A small plastic bowl of rice, topped with a few small squares of tofu, with a pair of chopsticks over it, wrapped around with cling film. Every day, that same meal, the ingredients bought every week from the same little Japanese grocery store. Cynic really couldn't afford anything more--and she personally found the rice/tofu combination to be one of the few foods she could regularly enjoy anyway. She couldn't claim to be altogether a purveyor of gourmet cuisine, but at the very least Cynic could appreciate so minimalist a meal as this.

Around her, the school life continued--not far away, up at the head of the cafeteria, was the table at which the President of the first years sat; beside her was a man anyone would know to be Daft. He was currently making a show of messing around with a rather large knife, which struck Cynic as rather an unwise decision. Sure, she was one to talk when she never travelled anywhere without her own beloved throwing knives...but she didn't take them out in plain sight at school. She didn't know if the rules were being waived for Daft to be waving his pocket knife around so openly, but none of the instructors nearby stopped him, and it discouraged most students from approaching him--which was most likely the intended effect.

As Cynic placed a small cube of tofu into her mouth with the chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully and looking down at the bowl of food, a shadow fell over her--someone had approached.

"So you're that girl--Cynicist or whatever."

Cynic paused for a moment, her mouth stopped chewing--but she didn't look up. She knew who it was; Weather Report, it seemed, was now starting to approach Cynic, something they hadn't done before. That could be a problem if they persisted...But after a second, Cynic merely took another bit of tofu with her chopsticks, as if the four large, surly Weather Report guys weren't there and had said nothing.

The thug at the front of the small group kept his cool in the face of Cynic's utter disregard of him. "You're that one chick who thinks she's some kind of 'wisewoman', or whatever the hell it was." Still no responce. Cynic simply went on eating. If she acknowledged the existence of the four thugs standing before her, they could take it as a sign that she had been intimidated into it. She wasn't going to let them think that yet. They wouldn't start anything right in the middle of a crowded cafeteria. Perhaps if she continued to ignore them, they would just leave her the hell alone for now. That was all she wanted right now anyway--to be allowed to eat in peace.

"Well? Go on," the idiot continued, refusing to shut up no matter how much Cynic wished it upon him. "'Share your wisdom' with me. Got any advice to give me?"

Cynic stopped moving suddenly, a bit of rice halfway up towards her mouth, and then she set the chopsticks down over the bowl and then turned her head upwards, brushing the dreadlocks out of her eyes to look up at the man in the lead. Her eyes were impassive and motionless as she spoke, a low, husky, slightly raspy voice issuing from her thin lips.

"I will not cast pearls before swine."

And then, without another word, she returned to eating her food, just as she had been doing before. The four thugs were, to be blunt, rather taken aback.

"Hold on a sec. I don't think I heard right."

"Did this bitch just call us swine? Did she just call us pigs?" Cynic would have sighed and shaken her head if she wasn't busy making a show of ignoring the group and eating. Of course the expression was utterly lost on the lot of them.

"I think she did," the thug at the helm snarled down at Cynic, but he failed to get so much as another look from her. There wasn't much he could do to achieve that short of grabbing her and forcing her to look up at him--which, in the hypothetical situation in which he had attempted it, the situation would have gone down rather badly for him in the short run of things. Instead, he glanced around, as if hoping no one had paid attention to the whole rather comical scene, and then turned back to Cynic. "You'll pay for that in time. Nobody talks that way to Weather Report. We own this school."

With that, the four were gone--most likely to angrily complain to the rest of their gang. In all likeliness they would plan to make an example of Cynic--what happens when someone talks out of turn to their gang, something like that. They would probably plan to ambush her when she was walking alone back to her apartment after school, in numbers, of course.

She almost smirked. This was probably going to end up very badly for her.

why would anyone even bother to attend their classes anymore? Ever since the Weather Report had claimed control over Gou high, that had been the only question on Meat`s mind. Not only did they run far too much already, but they also had special arrangements with the teachers. They didn't have to attend to anything anymore, and they already called far to many shots around there. They had become distant from the Princes. And If the weather report could skip class whenever they wanted to, why couldn't the Princess of the universe do the same?

Meat was sitting in the upper east corner of the football field. He leaned up against a tree and lit a smoke. Many would say that he was a lazy boy, and that he nearly never got anything done. But most people didn't even know him that well anyway. He was not particularly lazy, he was just not that interested in school. So there he sat, dressed in his lazed levi`s jeans, with a grey and slightly greasy t-shirt, his precious leather jacket and classic black biker boots. His hair had shoulder length, but it was all messy and dirty. Truth was that he never really cared much for it. His face was scarred and burned, and with several knife marks. He usually repelled most people, but in his own little world, Meat was completely convinced that he looked badass. It would soon be lunch time, and he had already skipped the first two classes, for the pleasures of sleeping and smoking.

When he heard the bell he got up and made his way to the cafeteria, he crossed the football field and the went past the principals office before he hit the main building. In the hallway just before the he went in, he bumped into four weather report blokes, who where leaving the room at an alarming rate. They didn't look very happy, actually they had that strange look one gets, when he is about to pick a fight. Its a messy blend between mad and scared. As for now he didn't care much for them, so he just continued through the door leading into the cafeteria building. Most of the students had already sat down. As he entered he got a lot of strange looks, especially from the staff. He figured that it might have had something to do with the still lit cigarette he had in his mouth, so he putted it out with a persistent glance in his face, and sat down at the end of the exact same table where Daft had taken a seat. He pulled out his knife, and stuck it into the table right next to himself, glancing over at Daft who was playing around with a knife of his own. Then he found his lunch and started to consume it at an unhealthy haste.

He had brought a giant pastrami sandwich with him, it was far bigger than something that a normal student could possibly eat, but it was just the right size for Meat. He had always liked food, and he was no bad cook either, just as long as it had something to do with dead animals. He was definitely no vegetarian. While he sat there and ate, he wandered if the rumours where all true. At first he hadn't really laid that much thought into it, figuring that it was just another mindless topic going around. But why else would Ramm sit right in front of Daft? And why else would they talk like that? He tried to move a bit closer, but as discrete as possible. He wanted to hear what they where talking about, but he didn't want to interrupt them either.

"Daft, what a surprise!" She said, holding a sandwich in one hand, and a small bottle of orange juice in the other. She turned her head and looked at him, and with a completely straight face continued. "Did you hear, apparently we've been 'doing it' at least six different places within the last hour or so? I must say, had it been true, I wouldn't have minded people gossiping like this, but this is just getting ridiculous."

Taking a bite of her sandwich, she glanced around at the nearest tables, and her gaze briefly fell on Cynic and the four Weather Reporters. She kept a watchful eye, awaiting to see if the situation would escalate, but as she had expected, it didn't. Ramm knew that the girl, Cynic probably wouldn't need her help, and even though the two of them had never spoken with each other, Ramm had a lot of respect for this other girl.

"You know," Ramm then continued, thinking that the two of them sitting so close to each other could only fuel more rumours, "I hired you because you can figure these guys out, and I can't. Not a lot of people here have the guts to try..." as soon as she had said that, another one joined them at the table. Ramm hadn't noticed him when he walked over, but now, all her attention had been turned to him. After all, the tables were small, only meant for six people. It was hard not to notice that they had been joined.

She forgot what she had been meaning to say, and instead just looked at Meat for a few seconds. She didn't even feel ashamed to be so obvious about it, but those burn scars on his face... It looked like he was proud of them.

"Hello." She said to him, mostly to be polite. She had noticed the knife, and couldn't help but to feel that he was showing off a little. Probably because of Daft. "Tell me your name." Ramm then ordered, without making it sound like an order. He looked like he could be helpful, unless... Unless he was a member of the Weather Report. The thought made her squint her eyes a little as she awaited an answer, yet she still remembered to keep the polite smile on her face.

"My name is Meat, but you might as well call me Meat Loaf, all the others do that anyway" He held a short break and took another giant bite of his sandwich. And when he was nearly done chewing he continued. "I saw Daft here playing around with his knife and I figured, that I might as well come over and sit for a bit. With these weather reporters all around you never really know what's gonna happen. I bumped into four of them just on my way in here, and they looked like they wanted some kind of trouble." Meat smiled and looked at her in a teasing way. "I answered your question, now I would like to ask you something. What is this between you and Daft here? According to rumour you two have apparently been at it all over the school for the last two hours, at at least 6 different places. And unless there is something you're not telling me, and you are actually rabbits cleverly hiding in human outfits. Then there is something else going on isn't there?

He had completely spoiled it for himself. His plan had been to eavesdrop without dragging attention to himself, and now Ramm`s sight where fixed right at him. But then again, sneak had never really been one of his greatest values. So he just tried to play it cool instead. He took the last bite of his far too big sandwich, and then he looked around. There where not many Weather Reporters to be seen, but everybody else where looking straight at them. He quickly looked big at Ramm and awaited her answer. Nervous as he was he started to play with his knife again. Why was he not allowed to smoke in the Cafeteria? Meat sighed and looked down.

Daft Huffed at the appearance of Meat. He disregarded Ramm's words as more pointless dribble about how he had to save the weakling First Years from The Weather Report, as well as the rumors about having done 'the act.' It only frustrated him further as Meat, who was one of the possible leaders of Weather Report and continuing member of the Princes Of the Universe.

"Meat, What the HELL do you want?" He asked suddenly, turning away from Ramm. And before someone tried to start a rumor the relationship was sex only/abusive, he tossed a knife at the nearest kid.

"Keep your lips shut. Or else I'll nail them together for you."

As the four thugs stomped off, Cynic returned to her humble meal--wondering how she was going to handle the storm that was no doubt coming towards her. Cynic wasn't being arrogant or conceited when she took into account that against any one of them she would probably come out victorious in a straight-up hand-to-hand fight, and almost certainly if it came to knives, but then again, if push came to shove Weather Report decided they wanted to make an example of her, Cynic didn't doubt they wouldn't take turns trying at it. Knowing the gang, they'd have something like eight people jump her when she was on her way home--five or so to hold her down while the rest beat the ever loving shit out of her. That was their general modus operandi--overkill, overkill, overkill. Respond to any potential threat with overwhelming force--she'd seen that kind everywhere. One of the surest signs of weakness--not just in each individual member, but in the whole of Weather Report. After all, a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. If Weather Report were to be broken down to its smaller units, it would be nothing like the presence that now got its kicks by intimidating the entire school, teachers and students.

Her food finished, Cynic wrapped the bowl and chopsticks around with the cling film, and then placed it back into her rucksack, zipping it up and standing from her seat before the sound of a yelp caught her attention. It came, of course, from the direction in which Daft was seated at Ramm Tein's table, but now there was someone else seated there--dressed, much like Cynic herself, in leather jacket and biker boots. Daft had apparently thrown his knife at the kid who had yelped, whilst the newcomer in the leather jacket was now toying with his own knife. Seems today's 'Show Off Your Knife' day, she mused to herself, feeling the weight of the five throwing knives within her leather jacket as she slid into it. Good thing I always bring mine... But that was aside the point, quite aside the point--a thought struck Cynic.

Ramm and Daft were working to put an end to Weather Report, or at least their power in Gou High School. If she was going to have to worry about further entanglement with Weather Report in light of the brief 'confrontation' (if it could even be called that) today, the wise thing to do was to...what was the term? ....seek cooperation. Something like that.

Deep down, a part of her that was still proud and stubborn protested. Anything Weather Report can dish out, I can take in my stride, this part of her seemed to be puffing her chest out and stating confidently. I've had it worse, so much worse, than anything those kids can do...

Then again, there was a reason Cynic's decisions were long since no longer driven by that stubborn, foolish, human part of her. A live dog is better than a dead lion. Throwing one of the straps of the rucksack over one shoulder, Cynic made her way towards the table, towards where the knife had been thrown and where the kid it had been thrown towards was now probably pissing himself and staring at Daft, wondering what to say that wouldn't get another knife aimed at him.

The girl bent down and picked up the knife by the blade, holding the handle out towards Daft. "You shouldn't throw about knives so freely..." she stated as she held the knife out. "...you might hurt somebody." From anybody else it might have sounded condescending or belittling, but from the girl who seemed for the first time to actually speak to someone without being first spoken to, it simply sounded like...well, a fact. That you shouldn't throw knives, or you might hurt someone.

On the other hand, her long-reserved nature was starting to shoot her in the foot. Been so long since I actively went out and talked to someone I've almost forgotten how it's supposed to go... she thought to herself. Maybe, having seen the little scene with the Weather Reporters and heard the threat tacked on at the end, they would know what had driven Cynic to actually speak out for once in her life as a student of Gou High School.

She would have to hope so anyway. For once, faced with an encounter, conversation...thing, she had initiated, Cynic wasn't sure how to proceed.

((Must apologise for the low quality of the post. I wanted to get Cynic involved with what seems to be the main group since otherwise she'll be side-lined and have nothing to do with the RP pretty quickly :v))

((You shouldn't apologise, Nagato. I think your post is good, and it advances the story quite a bit. I don't see why you say it's of lover quality than your others. :3))

And suddenly all the pieces were in place.

As Ramm sat there, amongst knifes and whatnot, Cynic approached, and even though Ramm had decided to talk to the other girl (as soon as she had built up the nerve), she did not mind at all. She took a few seconds to look at the poor kid who'd had a knife thrown at him for no apparent reason other that Daft perhaps had a huge ego, and mouthed a silent apology. The kid had not been physically injured it seemed, merely just mentally scarred for life. Eventually he'd be fine. At least she hoped so.

"I do believe we have the attention of the entire room now." Ramm then informed the three others, looking at all of them with a smile. "If you'd like to, Cynic, sit down." She then looked to Daft, and with her voice slightly lowered, she asked "Can we please not throw stuff at innocent people. I don't mind you hurling things at the Weather Report, but he's just a random kid who will probably never be mentioned again. He should be allowed to eat his lunch in peace, don't you think?"

Turning her attention back at the others, a sly slime crept onto her face, and settled there. "But Daft asked a rather good question, Meat. Why did you decide to sit here? Company? Boredom? Information, perhaps?" Turning her face to look at Cynic, she took another sip of her orange juice before speaking again. "And I'd like to ask you the same. Or did you just want to return the knife?" She didn't know Cynic besides her reputation, and frankly, the girl was difficult to decipher. Both Daft and Meat were far lesser mysteries than her.

She was trying to make connections, make it impossible for these people to turn their back and forget about each other. She bit into her sandwich again, and chewed slowly as she looked from face to face.

Daft rolled his eyes. Obviously these girls didn't realize how things worked in his and Meat's world. He snatched his knife back- By the blade, wiping off the crimson liquid with his coat as he pulled his cap down lower to put some shade on his face, not liking the number of people there were, especially seeing as it wasn't a big fight full of dozens upon dozens of random rival gang members.

"Whatever. It wouldn't have hit him anyway. Don't bother using this blade yourself. You've probably noticed its thick. And heavy. Only someone like Myself, or Meat here could probably toss it around like a boomerang."

Then he began to listen to his employer, Ramm. He could see in her eye she was interested in getting Meat in on the plan, as well as this Cynic girl. The latter seemed okay. Preferably he wanted to work alone. But if Another member of the Princes Of the Universe was in on things, that made things uneasy. Especially if Meat turned out to be be the villain he suspected this whole time.

"Define Peace." He asked Ramm calmly, and simply.

The man rolled his eyes, as if somehow what Cynic had said wasn't actually true, and, reaching out, grabbed the knife out of Cynic's hands; she released it quickly and smoothly to ensure the blade wouldn't cut her hands, what with the haste with which Daft snatched the blade out of her hand. He proceeded to pull his cap down lower and then stated, "Whatever. It wouldn't have hit him anyway." Cynic was merely going to ignore him at this point--pointing out the fallacy in his logic wasn't a priority at the moment. But he continued. "Don't bother using this blade yourself. You've probably noticed its thick. And heavy. Only someone like Myself, or Meat here could probably toss it around like a boomerang."

At this, Cynic raised an eyebrow very slightly (a minute gesture that, from the girl whose expression was normally quite blank, was the equivalent of breaking into sobs or heavy laughter). She tried not to be a proud, stubborn person--those were characteristics of a fool--but she did take a measure of pride in her knife skills, especially when it came to 'tossing around' knives with high accuracy. Any kind of knife, whether it was Daft's jack knife or her own set of smaller, more aerodynamic throwing knives--and she clearly wasn't weak by any standards, not if the muscle mass on her arms and abdomen were accurate, and they were. Daft clearly thought he could do better. It was, perhaps, the one thing that could get something like a rise out of her--for someone to propose she couldn't accomplish something that she knew she could with ease. Therefore, she could not suppress a retort, spoken without spite to her low voice. "I had no intention of using your pocket knife, capable though I am of it. I have my own blades. I need none of yours." With that, she took up Ramm's offer to seat herself, but mentally rebuked herself. Speaking so many unnecessary words for petty pride was unlike her...at least usually, where her skills with her knives were not actually brought into question. She knew what she was capable of. She did not need to prove it to Daft the Punk, or to anyone.

Nevertheless, even with her skills with a knife, Cynic was still human. If Weather Report threatened her, they were going to make good on it, with overkill. If Weather Report sent about eight or ten guys after her, she was screwed, at least in the majority of the scenarios she was now considering. She'd been here for three years; she knew even so little as how the four thugs had misinterpreted completely her words could suffice to have her branded as an enemy of Weather Report, and from what she'd seen previously, that did mean in all likeliness she would end up getting her ass kicked by about a dozen of Weather Report's goons. She went over potential outcomes in her head--not very good. In most situations, she would have been able to at best knock out four or five before they overwhelmed her; if Cynic resorted to using her knives to kill, possibly more. But she didn't want to resort to that. Not again. This was the best option.

"But Daft asked a rather good question, Meat," Ramm continued, now addressing the other man clad in leather--whose name, or at least nickname, Cynic took to be, self-evidently, Meat. "Why did you decide to sit here? Company? Boredom? Information, perhaps?" She then turned her question to Cynic. "And I'd like to ask you the same. Or did you just want to return the knife?"

Cynic waited for the one known as Meat to answer before she herself did, in typical terse, to the point fashion--the only way she knew how to communicate. "Threatened by Weather Report. Your goal is to end Weather Report in Gou. My goal is not to get my ass kicked. I see a coincident in those goals." She paused for a second, wondering if she was doing this all correctly, before simply finishing.

"I could be useful."

What I want? I want some answers!

Meat raised his right eyebrow and looked around at the gathering. He had definitely screwed up big time. His plan had been to talk to Daft in private, and now look what he had gotten himself into. It was nearly impossible to do any spying these days without starting a god damn riot.

Now I want some answers, and I want them from Daft. "Why did you leave the Princes the way you did? I mean you didn't say anything, and now your running around with this Ramm chick." Meat sighed "The weather report have grown distinct of the Prices of the universe, they do not answer to us anymore. It is completely accurate that they once listened to me, but not anymore. I don't know why that happened, but these days I use most of my time trying to beat the living crap out of those pricks. I mean last night one of them even came to my house. I had to hit him with a smoking hot frying pan, It did the job all right, but my nice red steak was ruined!" Meat looked extremely angry, he crossed his arms and looked into the distance. "I really hate those guys"

He figured that if something was about to happen, he wanted in. So he looked Ramm in the eyes, still playing around with his knife. "So? What did you have in mind?"

Suddenly both Meat and Cynic expressed that they might want to join her. And she would never tell them no, 'cause quite frankly, almost all the others who had agreed to help her out were either very smart, and not very adept in fighting, or not very smart, and not very adept in fighting. One who belonged in the last category was her... Boyfriend. As much as it pained her to know that they were only together because her parents and his parents had agreed that it would be great to keep both family names good, she didn't hate him at all. They were quite good friends really, and he was in danger. He had borrowed money from a weather reporter, without knowing who he was dealing with, and since he hadn't been able to pay back the money, he was subject to a lot of nasty threats. And she knew it would get worse.

She looked at Meat, and her smile was gone. "What I have in mind is peace." She then looked at Daft, trying to make eye contact, but failing. "Peace is being able to be in this school without being bullied, without pissin' your pants in fear, it's getting out of you bed in the morning without that scary gut-feeling that you're gonna die soon, because people can't keep control of their weapons. Some of these students are in genuine danger, and I am their president. I can't back away from this, and I promised... I promised the students here that the years they would spend in this school would be great." She went silent for a few seconds, and lowered her gaze. She was trying to gather courage to go on, and soon, she found it. With her hands balled up into fists, and the half-eaten sandwich in front of her, she finally looked at Cynic.

"I need your help. All of you. Not everyone here are as lucky as you, not everyone can fight like you. So that's why I'm asking. I can't stand knowing that there are people like the Weather Report here, and I can't stand that I can't do anything about it without you guys. I don't have a bulletproof plan, but I'm open to suggestions."

Cynic listened as the one known as Meat spoke, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her face on the tattooed knuckles of her fist as she did so; her eyes deliberately avoided looking to the speaker, an action that could just as easily have been a casual, non-deliberate move. It was an old habit of hers, one she had yet to get rid of. It seemed Meat had been one of those who called themselves 'Princes of the Universe' and apparently Daft had once been one as well, but had left before the problems the Princes now had with their thugs had arisen. Of course, when you ruled through fear, it was bound to happen--when those whom you led with an iron fist grew strong enough, together they would inevitably overthrow you. The scenario had repeated itself countless times over history. Despots always thought they could keep themselves in power through fear, but fear breeds hatred, and eventually hatred overcomes fear.

Quite beside the point. Cynic couldn't care less what problems the Princes were having with their thugs. She was in it to finish off any problems she had with the Weather Reporters before they became significant problems. Her reasons were less than noble and for the most part motivated by self-preservation--far unlike the First year President.

"What I have in mind is peace." Ramm began her words with a simple statement. "Peace is being able to be in this school without being bullied, without pissin' your pants in fear, it's getting out of you bed in the morning without that scary gut-feeling that you're gonna die soon, because people can't keep control of their weapons. Some of these students are in genuine danger, and I am their president. I can't back away from this, and I promised... I promised the students here that the years they would spend in this school would be great." She stopped speaking, her eyes fell from those around her, and Cynic blinked. Admittedly, she had never really spoken to Ramm...but she had never known the First Year President to be so strong of character. The most evident choice to avoid further harm and suffering was to go quietly--and yet here Ramm was fomenting further action against Weather Report, and professing that in doing so she was making good on a promise to the first-years--nowhere did she mention keeping herself safe.

That was the kind of thing few people could understand, and even fewer possessed. Cynic felt she could consider herself to fall into the former category. The latter, she wasn't so sure about. And maybe Meat and Daft wouldn't think much of it, wouldn't understand that concept, but that kind of strength of character and of heart was just as admirable, if not more so, than strength of body and strength of mind.

Ramm looked back up, her eyes first falling upon Cynic, who returned her gaze, her eyes if anything a bit more alive in light of this newfound respect for the First Year President. "I need your help," she said, before addressing all of them. "All of you. Not everyone here are as lucky as you, not everyone can fight like you. So that's why I'm asking. I can't stand knowing that there are people like the Weather Report here, and I can't stand that I can't do anything about it without you guys. I don't have a bulletproof plan, but I'm open to suggestions."

When it came to the need for a plan, the input of Daft and Meat would be invaluable--if they could be trusted. Both professed to being not only former members of Weather Report, but former kingpins of the entire gang. Had Cynic been Ramm, she would be taking anything from either of them, especially Meat, with a heavy grain of salt. Perhaps Ramm knew Daft previously, thus explaining her apparent trust of him, but Meat was, as Cynic could tell, a newcomer, and one who had rather quickly admitted to being one of the former leaders of the very gang Ramm was seeking to stop.

It brought a thought to Cynic's mind.... If there were three 'Princes', then who's the last one? If Meat was telling the truth, then the third leader had probably been similarly overthrown. Of course, he could just as easily have had the gang turn on Meat so that he alone could consolidate power--after all, history has proven that nobody wants to share power with a potential rival. But even then the now sole leader of the gang would only have had a precious small measure of time to enjoy his reign as the single kingpin of Weather Report before he was overthrown by his own thugs just like Meat allegedly had been. Just idle speculation. But if that were true, that information could prove useful in dismantling the gang.

However, outwardly the girl remained silent, listening to whatever Daft and Meat had to say on it--and whether Ramm would trust them on it.

Meat looked up at Ramm as she spoke, and he was surprised to see how much courage and willpower that little body could hold. She was planning to get rid of the weather reporters, not just because she was scared, but because she really wanted to help these people. Maybe he finally started to see why Daft was hanging out with her after all. She could be quite persuasive.

"Very well" Meat said and shielded his knife. "If we are gonna make the school safe again, then maybe we should consider minimising the waving of knifes. hehe unless its some betraying weather report scum of course, then I cant account for my actions." He pulled a can of soda out of his bag, and the thought of lighting another smoke crossed his mind. But he figured it would be best to wait a bit, before he started to blow smoke in the face of his possible new employer. He opened his can, and took a big gulp. Then he leaned a bit closer to Ramm and continued. "If we want all the violence and hatred to stop, then we got to get rid of the Weather Report group. And if we want to get rid of the Weather Report, then we have to split them up. If they are divided in some way, any way, they will be a lot weaker than they are now. I don't really care if we start rumours about them, expel them, or kick the living crap out of them. I just want to make them pay for what they did to me!."

Meat realised that perhaps he had given out to much information. It was not in his interest that the rest of the "group" should know about his motives just yet. Something had happened in the days after Daft left, something that made Meat feel like he had lost all his power, and became helpless. And boys like Meat who enjoy power, don't really like the feeling of loosing it to anything. Especially not his own gang.

Meat cleared his throat and continued, pretending that everything was well. "If we got to stop them, we need to make a statement. Gou high must learn that we are here to help them get rid of these bullies. We just have to figure out how"

She went silent for a second, and then gathered all her things. She stuffed the rest of her sandwich in her mouth, chewed it thoroughly, and then swallowed, only to gulp down the rest of her orange juice, and get up from her seat. "If you want to help out, meet me in the A/V room when all your lessons are ove... Wait, you probably won't attend those... Meet me there at four o' clock." With that, she was on her way out the doors again. The idea she had just gotten was a little crazy, and kinda dangerous, but right now it was all she had.

It seemed like Daft was still backing her up, and now Cynic had joined them too. Her motives seemed to Ramm to be perfectly legit. "My enemy's enemy is my friend..." She thought to herself, with things slowly coming together like this, it was too late to let go of her courage. True, she was scared, a lot actually, and she prayed that no one had heard their conversation at the table. At least not a person who would rat them out to the weather report. Right now, it would be about laying a little low. And then striking with all she had.

Carrying her backpack in one hand, she walked to the library, and there found a table far away from anyone else. Stashing her things there, she began looking for what she needed. It didn't take long to find the old yearbooks, which she carried back to the table and began looking through.

Daft huffed, standing up, and kicking his seat in. He had to learn to accept the wishes of the president. Trusting Meat so easily, with his quote by Daft, "Bullshit Story about losing control n' shit." And starting to bring up his leaving of the group. At this point he was in the mood to shank Meat.

"I Left because you two bastards just weren't my speed anymore. We grew to gain differences. You still did make some good pork, Meat. And The most beef on his bones, with the toughest knucks'round town. That much I can say. But as long as those punks in the violet uniforms run around, I ain't gonna take your 'innocent golden words.' You're still a suspect to be the leader. And I'll prove it by any means if I have to."

He headed off, towards a hallway. A couple weather report members seemed to have ignored the president's passing through, and were hitting up some kids for money. Daft pulled out his knife, and came up from behind, as one of them turned his head a little, just suddenly noticing.

"Ho-

SLASHSLASHSLASH!!!

-ly shit."

And instantaneously, he had torn through their coats, and carved the shape of a star into the back of each. They screeched in pain and fear, jumping back to prepare their weapons.

"You can't fuck with us!" barked one. "We're with Rain Squad Division! We enforce WR law 'round these parts!"

Daft cracked his knuckles, pulling his cap a bit lower to conceal his eyes. One of the goons began to speak again:

"Y-You don't scare me, wit,' wit all yer Karate, and…"

Daft grabbed the guy talking by the throat, and lifted him up with relative ease.

"I'll Rip off ya' asscheeks and shove them into yer slut president's mouth after she sucks my muthafuckin'-"

CRAAAASSSH!!!

and into the ground behind Daft he went.

Cynic listened in silence as Meat spoke, further underlining the fact that he was pursuing vengeance as the objective of his opposition to Weather Report. On the other hand, what Daft said, his words quite clearly demonstrating a degree of animosity against Meat, showed that the 'Princes of the Universe' (Cynic couldn't bring herself to even think of the name without wanting to break into a smirk at it) had long since had a conflict of interest that had resulted in one leaving and another being ousted by his own gang--possibly by his own partner, supposing the sole alleged leader was still at the top and had used his influence to remove Meat as a possible threat to his power and dominance of the gang.

It only confirmed the possibilities Cynic had acknowledged. Weather Report could be manipulated against its own leaders--and that power could then be used to dissemble and scatter the group.

It seemed the discussion was at an end, however, short-lived though it had been. Ramm had stood from her seat. "If you want to help out," she said, looking upon the three. "Meet me in the A/V room when all your lessons are ove... Wait, you probably won't attend those... Meet me there at four o' clock." With that she left, followed quickly by Daft. Cynic was third to depart, leaving Meat back at the table without so much as a word (which, then again, was simply to be expected). She slung her pack over her shoulder, and wondered what to do now. In actuality she hadn't been altogether intending to skip the rest of her lessons for the day. At the same time, she had no qualms with doing so. It was just a question of what she was going to do in the meantime. Guess I could always get back home for a bit...it'll be a while before school's out. That sounded just fine with her. She wasn't expecting that Weather Report would be a threat to her just yet--not so soon, anyway.

Meh. I'll head back to the apartment then. It wasn't that hard to just slip out of school right before the lunch break ended. The instructors were usually too pre-occupied with helplessly watching Weather Report pulling their usual shit around the school to care if the school loner decided she didn't want to take the rest of her classes for the day.

"Wonder if they believed me?"

Cynic was the last one to leave, and then Meat was by himself again, alone at the table. He opened another can of soda and sighed, he was tired of this school. In five minutes the bell would ring, and the students would start heading toward their classes. Meat would as always head to the city and play some pool, drink some beer, or just sit at some lawn and smoke. That was the easy part. The hard part was to evade all the teachers, that despite their business with the weather reporters, seemed to be very obsessed with making him attend his lessons. They would tell him that if he wanted to be someone in this life, he needed to get a nice job. And if he wanted a nice job, he needed to attend class. But Meat just wanted to be a fry cook, and work at a diner. To him that was a nice job, actually the best one he could think about. And the best thing was that no school background was really needed.

Meat finished his soda and lit a cigarette. He got up without cleaning up anything, and started to walk towards the door. A weather reporter walked purposely into him and a teacher shouted something he couldn't make up after him. Meat punched the weather reporter, and ignored the teacher. He got out of the room and into the hallway. Students where busy finding their classes as usual, and Meat easily slipped out the main door, and headed towards the usual lawn, and the usual oak tree. On his way there he started to wonder about what daft had said to him. He just weren't his speed anymore? Was that all that was to it? perhaps that was it, or perhaps there where more to it. Did Ramm contact him before or after he left them? And how fast was this new speed, if even the Princes of the universe couldn't keep up? What did he think he was? A Supersonic Knight or something? Meat still refused to believe the rumours about Daft still being secretly in control, but he sure drew suspicion to himself. But rumours where normal at High Schools, and this one was no exception.

He leaned up against the oak tree and took a long drag of his smoke. As he sat there he wondered what to do until Four o' clock, but it wasn't long before he fell asleep in the warm sunny field.

She buried herself in books, searching for proof of an old rumour, so old that almost everyone would have forgotten it. Time passed getting closer and closer to four o' clock. She was a bit mystified by all the things she found in the books, pictures of old students, teachers, clubs. The school was old, very, very old. And then she found was she was looking for. It was strange... Pictures of all the winners and their trainers. Their faces were bruised, and some were missing teeth. Still they smiled, wide grins filled with pride.

There were lists, and pictures of the medals.

As she sat there, she thought to herself that she probably shouldn't tell her father about her plans, not yet at least. He wasn't the principal any longer, but he still had plenty power when it came to the school. It was almost scary how her family had clung to power.

There were two other presidents. She only governed over the first year students, so she would have to talk to the two other presidents, just to make sure they had an understanding. She smiled to herself, feeling like they actually had a chance like this. She looked up to find a clock, and saw that it was already three o' clock. She had been in the library for a long time. She couldn't hide in there for much longer. She'd have to go and find Cole, who was president for the third years.

With that in mind she took the things she needed and walked out without telling anyone about the books she'd taken.

Daft was against the wall near the Library Door when he started trailing Ramm. He decided to put his guard up a little more after the incident he just got himself into. And the fact that he noticed plenty of Weather Report goons while searching for the girl. He started to speed up in order to catch up with the girl, who was only moving more quickly than he did. Running would have made him look stupid, and only increase the odds of the rumor of them having sex being true to all the people who heard it, and thought it really happened.

"Ramm." He greeted. "What's that book there? And more importantly, What's the rush? Just Gimme a Fuckin' Break and slow down, will ya? "

He firmly placed his hand on the girl's wrist, and dragged her into a hallway people rarely used, near the music department's domain, as he pulled her into a bathroom, and locked the main door in, before checking all the stalls for hidden intruders and such. When it was all said and done, he lifted his hat some to reveal his cool colored, and oddly enough worried eyes, which were usually really relaxed. Or tense from being pissed off.

"Okay. Tell your little mercenary what it was you were doing with books: books on school history? Did you plan on looking for someone special? If you are, then you'd be a freakin' idiot to go alone. Just tell me what you had planned for today, and we can set out on our activities, and skip class like I usually do."

Meat woke up under his usual oak three, in the usual green field. The sky was blue and not a cloud could be seen. He wondered how all those students could attend class on such a beautiful day? It seemed so strange to him. Meat had always done exactly what he wanted, exactly when he wanted to. So they all seemed like lost sheep to him. Just following their Sheppard mindlessly. The Sheppard of society. The idea of those sharply dressed school police boys amused him, they always looked down on him like he was some kind of looser, without any purpose or meaning. And he didn't even care, because he looked back at them with the exact same look.

He yawned and searched for his pack of smokes, he lit a cigarette and slowly pulled himself together. He got up and looked at his watch, it was three o' clock already. He left the green field, and walked up against the school. On his way there, he saw Ramm running around. It seemed strange to him, especially because Daft was chasing her. He stopped for a second to see how it played out, and then he moved on. He thought about those rumours that where swirling, where Ramm and Daft actually dating? Or did they just have unfinished business. A weather reporter bumped into Meat on his way to the cafeteria. Meat lifted him up and just held him there hanging for a moment. Now if a normal bystander where to see this, all they would hear was “What the hell is going on? You are not following his orders!” Meat then dragged him away, possibly to beat him up.

Meat where not seen for the next 30 minutes, and the weather reporter just vanished. Rumours swirled that Meat had killed the guy. But he had merely interrogated him in a slightly violent way. When Meat re appeared there where only ten minutes left, until the discussed meting time. So he went on over to the A/V room. As far as he could see it was still empty, so he sat down and waited for the others to arrive.

Why did it have to be a bathroom? Public bathrooms were disgusting and made her cringe. She looked at Daft, not really annoyed, instead she felt a little uneasy when he looked at her like that, even though it was the first time it had happened. He was asking a lot of questions, but she didn't mind at all. She smiled and made sure she hadn't dropped any of the books back when he had pulled her along, then spoke. "Well, I was looking for someone. Cole, a third year student. He's their president, and I was going to force him to sign his duties and authority over to me. I was going to find the second year's president too, but she's not in school today."

She paused shortly as she moved to the counters where the sinks were placed. She dropped the books there, and then turned to lean against the counters. She crossed her arms over her chest, and sighed. "I have something rather big in mind, but I can't put any of it in motion before I have more...." Once more, a pause. The words sounded silly in her head, and they would most likely also sound silly to him. Well, she had to give it a try anyway. "... Power. And that's why I was looking for Cole."

She glanced at him, and then chuckled to herself. "You know, when I hired you, I actually didn't think you'd be interested in what I was doing. I thought I'd have to search you out each time I'd need your help." She flashed him a quick grin before picking up her books. "I'll explain everything when we meet up with Meat." She said, already on her way out again. "Come on, we're late!" She yelled over her shoulder as she headed towards the A/V room.