How I got here
Posted: Fri Nov 14, 2008 12:08 pm
<happening sometime before John arrived at SJS, it's a matter of record with his old school, and possibly SJS. Some people may have access to it, but it would be appreciated if you contact me before you use it IG>
John hitched the collar of his jacket up in what he thought would be a look of defiance, the stiff leather collar coming up to base of his skull and wrapping around partially, as the opened in the front. It was against the spirit of the school uniform, but not entirely against the rules. Which, in John's mind, was perfect. The cockeyed smile that he wore as he entered Mr Livingston's History class attested to that much. John found his seat, and leaned as far back as the classroom desk would allow, going so far as to scoot the desk in front of him, with Tanya Desing in it, forward a few inches.
"Hey!" The jostled teen exclaimed.
"Mr Weston!"
"Yeah, Mr Livingston?"
"One, apologize to Tanya for being rude." Mr Livingston counted off transgressions by holding up a growing number of fingers. "Two, you will sit up in class. Three, while the school does allow for the choice of jackets, and outerwear, gang apparel is not acceptable. And four, you will remove those dark glasses indoors." The History teacher seemed to be growing angrier with each finger raised.
John lowered the glasses down his nose and peered over the frames at the teacher, scoffed and looked at Tonya. "Sorry, doll. I'll make it up to you sometime." The smile on his face became more pronounced as Tonya seemed flustered by the apology, smiling slightly, while flouncing to turn foward in 'outrage'. "Two, does it really affect your ability to teach if I'm slouched in my desk?" John slid slowly up, finally sitting upright, "All right, I didn't realize your teaching skills were so weak." John chuckled silently as the teacher sputtered angrily. "As for the jacket? I don't see any gang markings on it. It's a leather jacket, bought from a store in a mall, and it keeps me warm. The only person equating it to a gang is you...Easy Rider. My glasses? Yeah, alright, it's kinda bright in here, and I was usin' em to protect my eyes from the glare off your dome, but it ain't gonna cause permanent damage." John took the glasses off, folding them, he presented them to the teacher before tucking them into a pocket in the jacket.
While some of the class remained stunned, others burst out into laughter, which further infuriated the teacher. "Mr Weston, you will take yourself to the Office, we will deal with this later!"
John grabbed his folders, and stood up, smiling and left the classroom.
***********************************************************************
John walked out of the office, shaking his head, grinning. "Detention again." He chuckled, "Ain't they gonna figure it out?" John's good mood continued until he turned a corner, heading for his locker, only to be met with a hand in his chest.
"Where you going, funnyboy?" John let his gaze wander from the hand planted on his chest UP to the thick neck and oversized head of Terry Boynton, the star Linebacker of the football team. "Your little stunt in class cost everyone extra work, and another test on Friday."
"Wow, really? I better keep it up then, Livingston might actually have us learn somethin'."
"Not funny, Weston." John noticed two smaller football players standing just behind and to the sides of Terry. "See, we have a game coming up, and I'm already on probation. Another bad grade means I don't play. I don't play, we don't win." Terry gave a little shove to John. "See where that might make us upset?"
"Here's an idea, and I'll make sure to say it in small words, so you can grasp it. Study more, make Terry do good in class. Try opening a *&%$in' book."
"Here's the thing, Weston. It's a take home test. So me and the guys were thinking that you should take it home for us."
"Really?" John shook his head in amusement, "See, there's where you made a mistake. You were actually thinking?" John paused, gathering his will "No way in hell, do I take that test for you, meathead. I don't give a *$%# if you play another game in your life."
Terry threw a roundhouse that would have crushed most other boys John's size, as it was, it caused him to lose his balance, and the trio of football players was on him. With his willpower and concentration already gathered, the spell he'd learned protected him from the damage being dealt, but he still found it hard to regain his feet amidst all the blows raining down on him. He did the only thing he could think of, and went limp, playing possum.
Sure enough, the blows slowed, once the other boys perceived no movement. "Holy shit, Terry, I think we killed him."
John opened his eyes, and smiled up at the trio. "Nah, I'm fine, but thanks for the concern." John kipped up to his feet and looked at the other boys, who were amazed. John didn't have a scratch on him, even though his glasses were cracked over the bridge of his nose. John reached up and pulled the glasses off his face in two pieces, spinning them slowly in his fingertips, examining them. "Damn, I liked those glasses." He dropped the broken glasses to the ground, and looked up at the other boys, slowly. "Now....it's my turn."
His first blow struck Terry with a flash of light, and the boy flew back into a bank of lockers, slamming into them. He slid down the lockers with a groan, looking reluctant to rejoin the fight. John looked at the other two boys out of the sides of his eyes, then jumped into the air, raising his fist high, and driving it into the ground with a resounding boom. The shockwave knocked both boys back, who scrambled to their feet, and took off running.
John turned and walked over to Terry, who was still dazed after the punch he took. "Guys like you make me sick. Ya think ya can pick on anyone ya want, cause they're smaller. Well guess what, *$%#er? Not all the smaller guys are gonna stand for it." John raised his hand and flicked Terry in between the eyes, a small flash of light erupting on contact, causing the boy to slump back with a groan.
John hitched the collar of his jacket up in what he thought would be a look of defiance, the stiff leather collar coming up to base of his skull and wrapping around partially, as the opened in the front. It was against the spirit of the school uniform, but not entirely against the rules. Which, in John's mind, was perfect. The cockeyed smile that he wore as he entered Mr Livingston's History class attested to that much. John found his seat, and leaned as far back as the classroom desk would allow, going so far as to scoot the desk in front of him, with Tanya Desing in it, forward a few inches.
"Hey!" The jostled teen exclaimed.
"Mr Weston!"
"Yeah, Mr Livingston?"
"One, apologize to Tanya for being rude." Mr Livingston counted off transgressions by holding up a growing number of fingers. "Two, you will sit up in class. Three, while the school does allow for the choice of jackets, and outerwear, gang apparel is not acceptable. And four, you will remove those dark glasses indoors." The History teacher seemed to be growing angrier with each finger raised.
John lowered the glasses down his nose and peered over the frames at the teacher, scoffed and looked at Tonya. "Sorry, doll. I'll make it up to you sometime." The smile on his face became more pronounced as Tonya seemed flustered by the apology, smiling slightly, while flouncing to turn foward in 'outrage'. "Two, does it really affect your ability to teach if I'm slouched in my desk?" John slid slowly up, finally sitting upright, "All right, I didn't realize your teaching skills were so weak." John chuckled silently as the teacher sputtered angrily. "As for the jacket? I don't see any gang markings on it. It's a leather jacket, bought from a store in a mall, and it keeps me warm. The only person equating it to a gang is you...Easy Rider. My glasses? Yeah, alright, it's kinda bright in here, and I was usin' em to protect my eyes from the glare off your dome, but it ain't gonna cause permanent damage." John took the glasses off, folding them, he presented them to the teacher before tucking them into a pocket in the jacket.
While some of the class remained stunned, others burst out into laughter, which further infuriated the teacher. "Mr Weston, you will take yourself to the Office, we will deal with this later!"
John grabbed his folders, and stood up, smiling and left the classroom.
***********************************************************************
John walked out of the office, shaking his head, grinning. "Detention again." He chuckled, "Ain't they gonna figure it out?" John's good mood continued until he turned a corner, heading for his locker, only to be met with a hand in his chest.
"Where you going, funnyboy?" John let his gaze wander from the hand planted on his chest UP to the thick neck and oversized head of Terry Boynton, the star Linebacker of the football team. "Your little stunt in class cost everyone extra work, and another test on Friday."
"Wow, really? I better keep it up then, Livingston might actually have us learn somethin'."
"Not funny, Weston." John noticed two smaller football players standing just behind and to the sides of Terry. "See, we have a game coming up, and I'm already on probation. Another bad grade means I don't play. I don't play, we don't win." Terry gave a little shove to John. "See where that might make us upset?"
"Here's an idea, and I'll make sure to say it in small words, so you can grasp it. Study more, make Terry do good in class. Try opening a *&%$in' book."
"Here's the thing, Weston. It's a take home test. So me and the guys were thinking that you should take it home for us."
"Really?" John shook his head in amusement, "See, there's where you made a mistake. You were actually thinking?" John paused, gathering his will "No way in hell, do I take that test for you, meathead. I don't give a *$%# if you play another game in your life."
Terry threw a roundhouse that would have crushed most other boys John's size, as it was, it caused him to lose his balance, and the trio of football players was on him. With his willpower and concentration already gathered, the spell he'd learned protected him from the damage being dealt, but he still found it hard to regain his feet amidst all the blows raining down on him. He did the only thing he could think of, and went limp, playing possum.
Sure enough, the blows slowed, once the other boys perceived no movement. "Holy shit, Terry, I think we killed him."
John opened his eyes, and smiled up at the trio. "Nah, I'm fine, but thanks for the concern." John kipped up to his feet and looked at the other boys, who were amazed. John didn't have a scratch on him, even though his glasses were cracked over the bridge of his nose. John reached up and pulled the glasses off his face in two pieces, spinning them slowly in his fingertips, examining them. "Damn, I liked those glasses." He dropped the broken glasses to the ground, and looked up at the other boys, slowly. "Now....it's my turn."
His first blow struck Terry with a flash of light, and the boy flew back into a bank of lockers, slamming into them. He slid down the lockers with a groan, looking reluctant to rejoin the fight. John looked at the other two boys out of the sides of his eyes, then jumped into the air, raising his fist high, and driving it into the ground with a resounding boom. The shockwave knocked both boys back, who scrambled to their feet, and took off running.
John turned and walked over to Terry, who was still dazed after the punch he took. "Guys like you make me sick. Ya think ya can pick on anyone ya want, cause they're smaller. Well guess what, *$%#er? Not all the smaller guys are gonna stand for it." John raised his hand and flicked Terry in between the eyes, a small flash of light erupting on contact, causing the boy to slump back with a groan.