[center][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/061fb9ecf50c5c5cc64cb10738c163b5/tumblr_o9js1vrWlh1sqnvuno4_400.gif[/img] [color=9e0b0f][h2]Dana Harada[/h2][/color] [@HereComesTheSnow] [@Krayzikk] [@Write][/center] Speech. Speech speech speech speech speech. Same old speech. Dana always felt insulted by these convocations, no matter the location or language. Headmasters were a subgenus that seemed to collectively enjoy wasting the time of students, the majority of whom had already weathered the first iteration of the 'welcome to school' speech. It was no different when she had gone to school at home. Teachers knew it was a waste. Students knew it was a waste. Why keep giving the speeches? It was time shaved off of everyone's lives. It was brutally boring. It made her want to stomp her feet and flare her nostrils. It made her want to... “Don’t worry, you’re going to love this. Thanks to the Mystical Oracle, all of you have been selected to live on the second floor of the first housing building. And on these sheets of paper right here are the living arrangements. It’s going to be lit!” [color=9e0b0f][i]I want to fight that man.[/i][/color] Akani had [i]muscles[/i] muscles. He would make for a glorious trophy. [color=9e0b0f][i]This year I will fight that man for sure.[/i][/color] She had told herself that at each of the last two assemblies. The idea of rooming together at the housing buildings was an interesting one, though, and one that made her tense up slightly, huddling against herself for warmth under the heavy bomber jacket that had belonged to her brother before it found a better home in the Far East. Dana knew she could get anxious around new people, and not all of them would tolerate her quirks like Jonas or Rhea. What if they weren't well dressed? [color=9e0b0f][i]Kidnap them and take them to the Armani Exchange.[/i][/color] People always came back for more after one of Dana's shopping trips. What if they were early sleepers? What if they got irritated by Dance Dance Revolution and asked Dana to turn the TV down? [color=9e0b0f][i]Smash the pad over their head. Make them play with you. Fuck them up and make them humble.[/i][/color] Hmmph. The whole arrangement was more trouble than it was worth. Dana drew one hand out from the protective confines of [s]her brother's[/s] the shared-ownership leather bomber ver. Ares. [center][i]Apartment 2A | Dallas Relo and Jonas Highwind[/i][/center] That seemed to be all that some people needed to hear. She heard a cheerful [color=6ecff6][i]whoop![/i][/color] and turned her head to see that one of the papers had already been balled up and tossed in the direction that the academy's other students were departing in. She thought she saw someone turn around and rub the back of their head, wondering what had hit them, but then she turned back around again. It wasn't surprising. Dallas had been a baseball player growing up, and if he wanted to hit someone chances were good that someone would get hit. Who wound up getting irritated was irrelevant. The son of the sun probably just wanted to test his curveball. Speaking of a curveball... [center][i]Apartment 2B | Rebekah Cross and Dana Harada[/i][/center] The elbow still wrapped inside the jacket moved to her left, prodding into the soft side of the girl standing beside her. Rebekah's eyes were heavy-lidded, lips pursed in thought while she was reading over her own list. She didn't know why she bothered after the fourth or fifth entry. In fact, Dana felt like throwing the paper herself. But she wouldn't. She wasn't an animal. [color=9e0b0f]"Help me move my clothes in. I'll help you with books."[/color] She tugged on the sleeve of Rebekah's sweater, but she did so reluctantly, and it looked like she wanted to wash her hands afterwards. The thing looked like something Bekah had mined from another vein of Goodwill gold. Gross. Who knew how many people had worn that thing before her? [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/XEdWUsd.jpg[/img] [h2]Dallas Relo[/h2] [@HereComesTheSnow] [@Write] [@Altered Tundra][/center] [color=6ecff6]"Fucking A, still got it. Did you see that? Whose kid do you think I hit?"[/color] Jonas wasn't listening. He had decided to put a little more thought into who was sleeping where, not that it would matter in two weeks when people were throwing their roommates out for hookups. Jonas was used to that arrangement. Why give a shit now? [color=6ecff6][i]"Joey. Whose kid?"[/i][/color] Dallas' lips pursed in frustration. Marcy would have played the guessing game with him. [color=6ecff6]"That was a great throw! If we had an outfielder or a full bullpen like that then maybe we wouldn't keep losing the division to the fucking Astros!"[/color] [color=ed1c24]"Huh? Yeah. Khabib."[/color] [color=6ecff6]"[i]Fine.[/i] I don't fucking need you."[/color] [color=ed1c24]"Kay."[/color] [color=6ecff6][i]Dick.[/i] "Fine!"[/color] [color=ed1c24]"Kay."[/color] Dallas frowned, a deep, brooding expression that came dangerously close to the surly pout of a brat who had earned his [i]bona fides.[/i] Viv would never treat him this way. She couldn't ignore him if her life depended on it. That sounded exactly like what he needed, actually: some catch up time with his sister! After all, he'd taught her everything he knew with a PG-13 rating on it. Last year the two Apollo kids had even started doing personal training together. Dallas was perceptive enough - although Viv would say [i]cynical[/i] with a cute lil frown - to notice that eventually someone would try to take advantage of someone whose atomic bonds were all held together by niceness and smiles. When that time came, he couldn't guarantee that he would be around to keep an eye out for her; when they'd parted earlier in the year, Dallas was actually impressed enough with how Viv's boxing and footwork had come along that he took her out for dinner and only spoke when spoken to for the whole night. It was a rare treat. Then the cloud over the bipolar son of the sun's face broke, and he turned his head to Jonas with a knowing grin. [color=6ecff6]"I'm gonna go look for Viv."[/color] [color=ed1c24]"Make it quick. Girls are coming."[/color] Fuck. Once he and Marcy started stirring shit they were never gonna stop. [color=20b2aa]"Hey guys, miss us?"[/color] [color=6ecff6]"Sure as shit, babes. Gimme thirty seconds! Don't make any fucking plans [i]without me![/i]"[/color] Using the big guy for cover, Dallas dipped back into the crowd of under-three dozen demigods in order to find his sister. Digging her out of the lineup was easy enough. He just had to find the one with the halo over her head. Dallas slid up to her with a wink and a fraternal hand on her head - to promptly fuck up her hair, giving it more than a passing resemblance to his own permanently-tousled looking blonde locks. [color=6ecff6]"Fucking there you are, Jesus, don't run off like that,"[/color] came the warm greeting, as Dallas' eyes lit up and his conversational muscles visibly geared up to go full adrenal. [color=6ecff6]"Iiiii'm thinking of throwing another party to kick shit off. Same thing we do every fucking year, right, Pinky? Don't tell anybody. But tell [i]everybody.[/i] And make sure that anyone from your year actually fucking [i]BYOB[/i]s this time. I nearly got busted for serving to kids last year and I'm not taking a bullet for anyone too young to buy their own weed. Oh yeah."[/color] Dallas' bright grin grew into a sunny beam. [color=6ecff6]"Hiya. Missed you."[/color]