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So... Weathers crazy huh...
Interested.
Raylan Ulysses


Location; Athletic center to Bar.
Interacting With; @Helo Bhodi Fisher


"Raylan! Do you... Are you drunk!?" The Wrestling coach shouted at Raylan.... In front of the entire team. Raylan never minded taking an ass chewing, it was part of the position of he was in. He did however very much mind getting an ass chewing in front of people. A lot of people learned the hard way to never be little him in public.

Raylan glared at the coach. How he wanted to a fist through his face, however, words not fists would be his weapons. "Coach I'm worried about you. You looked stressed." Raylan said with a half smile.

"You damn right I am! If we get hit with anything! You're cut from the team!" The coach shouted at the top of his lungs.

"See there! I'm already ahead! Stress can ruin every day of your life. Getting cut can only ruin my day once!" Raylan said with a smile.

What made the situation worse was, everyone knew he was right. He could be a professional MMA fighter in an hour if he wanted. He also had his training work and security work as well. The only thing that was keeping him in there was the fact that he wanted to. There wasn't a need, just a want. A want that he was very willing to walk away from.

The rage inside in side the coach was starting to show. However before he could say anything Raylan spoke again. "The A.D. has everything you need. They won't find anything improper around me." Raylan's smile was gone, replaced with a look that told everyone around that this conversation was over.

Raylan didn't stay for another word. He simply walked to the nutrition center and got a shake. Banana Strawberry in taste, jam packed with everything that a human body needed. He sat down trying to enyjoy the shake but he was reminded of just how much he hated so many people around this school.

All that however was melted away when a text from his best friend Bodhi Fisher rang out. Bodhi, inviting him to bar. Raylan was all too quick to reply.

To: Beau The Fishman
Does a fat baby fart?


Five minutes later Raylan was on his bike and off the bar the two friends frequented the most.
Ok, I know I am way behind on this but I swear I am working on a post. I live on the North Carolina coast and since Irma has been projected to pretty much head north along the eastern coast work has been killing me. I'll do my best to have a post no later than tomorrow after noon. Again I'm sorry its taken me so long.
I should have a post up tonight.
So uh, you guys come here often?
I'm interested as well.
Raylan Ulysses


Location; Gym to campus.
Interacting With; No one yet.


"Awww fuck...." Raylan's first words almost every morning. This was the side of combat sports that few ever really saw. The difficulty of getting out of bed on the morning. The soreness, pain and stiffness that came with hard training. Once he got moving he didn't feel any pain at all, but it was getting moving that was the hard part.

As he rolled off his make shift bed. He had made it from pallets that he had.... Liberated with the help of a couple of friends. With a roaring yawn and a long stretch he was ready to meet the day. Raylan checked his phone. He saw a missed call and a voice mail from his coach. The coach was worthless by and large. Raylan knew more and taught better than this so called coach. Yet he resigned himself to this when took the scholarship.

Raylan wasn't shocked when he heard the voice mail. It had happened thee times before and since this was his last year, he fully expected the call. "Hey Raylan, uh..." The voice mail said. Raylan let out a frustrated sigh. "The NCAA called. They're looking into you again for impermissible benefits. Your living arrangements and any jobs you might have. Now I know." That was all Raylan was willing to listen to as he hung up and detailed the voice mail.

Student athletes weren't allowed to have to jobs. They were giving 500 bucks a month to live on. In a place like this that money didn't go far... Not at all. So Raylan, like thousands of other people across the country found ways to make extra money on the side. Wrestling wasn't a big sport so he didn't have the exposure that say football plays or basketball plays did. Even still he was very careful about what he was doing at all times.

He looked at his calendar noting the day. There was some how to do at the beach. Some piss ant burning coals they called a bon fire. These people didn't know what a good fire was, all they knew was how to make wood hot. He missed home, in ways he couldn't explain. What he wouldn't he give to smell the creeks and see those rolling hills. However, what he saw at his feet did make him smile.

"First one with his hand." Raylan said as he drained the half empty pint bottle. It's amber content leaving a warming feeling that spread throught his body. As he finished his eight ounces of liquid breakfast, Raylan placed the back of his hand to his mouth. The taste of pure alcohol rushed out as he exhaled. He looked at the bottle and smiled, a bottle of George Dickle Number 12. “Whatever lurks ahead of grievous abominations and disorder, you and me walk into it together George.”

After a shower and some real food, Raylan walked out to see the own of the gym. "Hitting the bottle early aren't you?" The owner said knowing all the tale tale signs of Raylans drinking. While Raylan did a very good job of hiding his issues, the owner could spot them a mile off.

"People who time their drinking have issues. I don't time mine. I do need a lift to school though. Mind if I load the bike up and catch a ride?"

"Yeah, you got a women's self defense class to teach at four. Be back and sober Raylan. Got it?" The owners voice was stern and serious. It was the tone that even Raylan knew not be cavalier with.

"Promise." Raylan said as he walked out and loaded his motorcycle in to the bike of the owners truck. It didn't take long for them to head towards the school. As the both entered the truck, it was clear that the alcohol was in full effect.

"Wanna tell me why you decided to get lit this early in the morning?" The gym owner asked never once looking at Raylan.

"NCAA, improper benefits. That's all I'm gonna say about it." True to his word a thank you was the only other word uttered after he unloaded his motorcycle. Raylan always had his bike in the exact same spot, most knew the bike but not the rider.

Raylan started making his way as slowly as possible to the coaches office. He was looking for any reason at all to avoid the unannounced meeting. Looking for any excuse to get distracted and not go.
My post is pretty much done. I just gotta some touche upset and formatting.
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