"Got anything else to eat?" (Open)

[Jeremiah Sykes]

OOC((Anything can come here. Fight, plot, social. Don't care.))

The same thing, daily. He asked for something new, they smirked and gave him slop. It was frustrating for a man who was his size to try and explain that he needed more than a peice of pizza or a slice of cheesy bread, yet his words just wouldn't compute, or so it seemed. He hated this school. He took a seat at his usual table, on the empty half of the lunchroom. Students seemed to constantly gather together, crowd around one another like a pack of rats, or sheep. They were afraid- afraid to be a target, afraid to be noticed. Uncivilized, spineless. Cowards. He spat on the floor to his left, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a cig. He stuffed the butt in his mouth, squinting his eyes under the shades as a plume of smoke puffed up past his eyes.

This seemed so nostalgic.

He went to class, he went home, he did everything a normal person did- yet he always found himself sitting here in the lunchroom and thinking the most. It wasn't even really lunch. Lunch had been over for a while, but his next period was open, and that left him back at square one. It happened to be that his only period that was open was at this time and it also happened to be the only time anyone felt the need to fuck with him. He should leave, go somewhere else, but the guy seemed not to learn his lesson. Or perhaps he knew what it intailed and he didnt care.

'Or maybe i aint gonna let some fucks push and bully me away from where i wanna be.'

Ah, so pride was the reason.

Regardless, Jeremiah reached down into his bag, pulling out a bottle of brandy, and began unscrewing the cap.

It was gonna be a long hour for him.

He needed something warm to keep him company.

[Sam Ballerino]

Sam was happy. She'd actually had time this morning to make a lunch to take with her, so she didn't have to deal with the scary place that was the cafeteria food line. And with her crutch still necessary, the lunch line would be hell for her.

She walked into the cafeteria. Most of the tables were completely filled, and her only choice was next to a hulking guy unscrewing a bottle of some kind of alcohol and smoking. She didn't like cigarette smoke, but her leg was screaming at her, so she hobbled over to him. He didn't look too happy, but Sam's leg wasn't too happy, either.

"Is this seat taken?" She asked, pointing to the empty one in front of her, directly across from him. If he didn't say no, she'd lean on the crutch, easing herself down with a sigh of relief. Once she got settled, she'd pull out the brown-bagged lunch and look back at her tablemate.

"I'm Sam."

[Jeremiah Sykes]

As expected, someone set thier eyes on him. He guessed he should have expected it, should have been ready, but he was feelings pretty darn good right now. When she saw him unscrewing the cap- that was after he unscrewed it four other times before that. It had been a while since he first opened his bottle, and he was on his second smoke. His slightly red eyes, covered by his sunglasses, look up, appraising the woman. She was leaning on a crutch, and her hand was in a cast. He took a long swig of his brandy, not flinching as he swallowed it. He looked her up and down, belching a little before holding out the bottle.

"Care for a drink?"

His thoughts were bouncing, and he was trying his best to think and stay focused.

'Out of all the people to sit by me, i get the cripple...'

He heard himself say it in his head, the only problem was, he also heard himself say that line out loud. He didn't bother trying to recipriocate for the comment, he just looked back down at his pizza crust a took a big bite before leaning back in his chair. His eyes slid closed a little before he shook his head, asking a quick question.

"So....What happened to you?"

His speech was a little slow, but he didnt feel totally drunk. He wasnt unaffected though- you could tell that by the fact that he had yet to get up and walk away. He focused, or tried to, on the female sitting opposite of him as he took yet another drink from his nearly empty bottle.

Stats when Drunk:

Strength- 20
Speed- 15
Constitution: 35
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 2
Charisma: 5

Drunk posts left: 4/5

[Sam Ballerino]

He'd obviously been at the bottle for a little bit, as a good portion of it was already gone, but he offered her some anyway. She shook her head, but before she could say anything else, she heard him start muttering to himself.

'Out of all the people to sit by me, i get the cripple...'

Her lips tightened, and she felt her cheeks get warm, but she said nothing. What the hell was wrong with being injured? Sam had been through a lot in the past couple weeks, and was not in the mood to deal with someone who was making judgments because she carried a crutch. Keeping her anger in check, she pulled an apple out of her bag and began munching on it when she heard him speak to her again. She looked up, regarding him for a moment before speaking.

"Mr. Orange." Nearly everyone knew about Mr. Orange's rampage around the school - he'd managed to destroy a good portion of it with his bare hands. She went back to her apple, doing her best not to say anything snarky to the cripple-hater.

Oh well.

"You're gonna get in trouble if anyone catches you smoking in here. Or are you too drunk to realize you've got a cigarette in your mouth?"

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Jeremiah swiveled his head over to his smoke, having indeed forgotten it was there.

"Well, wouldja lookit that."

He brought the cig to his lips and took a long drag before looking back to her. It was true that he had heard of Orange, but as far as the rampage went he didnt know a damn thing about it. He looked back to his bottle before looking to her. "What, you don't drink." He shook his head. "Must not be your thing...i know, lets have a foot race! Your probably good at that." He looked pointedly at her leg before he took another looong drink from his bottle. He sighed, putting down the little bit of wile he felt like letting out on her in lue of a sudden urge to be nice. She was a hotty after all, why couldnt he talk to her like one? Must he always be so closed off? Why was he closed off anyway? In the midst of his booze he had totally forgotten the reson he pushed women away. He leaned in, placing his arm on the table.

"So Pretty mama, you got a name, or are you feeling the one i picked out for you?"

He grinned ina way he believed to be charming. He wasnt generally one to laugh or smile, in fact this would probably be the first day he had done either since his arrival. Oh well. He wouldnt remember anything by morning anyway.

Stats when Drunk :

Strength- 20
Speed- 15
Constitution: 35
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 2
Charisma: 5

Drunk posts left (More given since more was drank) : 9/10

[Sam Ballerino]

This was why she didn't drink. Drunk people confused her. She shook her head again when he asked her if she drank. It wasn't a complete truth - she did drink a little bit. But not much. And certainly not at school.

He made another jab at her injury, and she just about picked up her crutch and smacked him in the face with it. But then he did something strange.

Um... is he hitting on me? ...And he forgot that i told him my name. He tried to smile at her, but it was an odd, sloppy sort of smile, though he obviously thought he was being suave.

"Well," she said, leaning her chin in her hand and smiling sweetly at him, "My name is Sam. As I said when I sat down." She dug into her bag again, pulling out a bag of baby carrots. She bit down on one, crunching it. "You know, most people would reciprocate at this point, and provide a name of their own." She smirked at him. She was going to enjoy seeing how he handled big words in his state.

[Tash]

Lunch time at Moral Crest. Hi-dee-ho. Chemically based and mass produced animal and plant by-product. Grease it up, bake it, boil it, shoot it up like a junkie with an OD of food coloring, add a plastic tray and call it....lunch.
This is why I brown bag it.

As soon as Tash entered the high ceilinged cafeteria, she was assaulted with an overload of clashing food-type scents all heavy with grease and salt. She was no health buff and she wasn't much of a lunch person anyway, but what came out of that kitchen often looked like it wouldn't make the grade in a dog food processing plant. If she wasn't sure what was in it, there was no way in hell she was putting it in her mouth. Grazie Dio for tupperware and cold pasta salad.
Her sharp gaze caught sight of Sam sitting next to an inebriated leviathan she was pretty sure she recognized. Jeremiah, she thought his name was. Didn't really matter. Even if his name wasn't Jeremiah she'd probably always call him that, because it was what she remembered. That tended to offend some people, but she never meant it personally. She was just bad at names. Better go make sure damage control isn't needed - besides, the seat next to Sam was pretty much the only vacant spot in the room.

As she made her way through the chaos that was high school lunch hour, she overheard his "pretty mama" comment and rolled her eyes. Typical drunken male. Poor Sam, that girl was too cute for her own good. She plopped her bag on the table next to the brunette and reached out, swiping the bottle from the big guy's hand to read the label, then setting it back down in front of him.


"Lesson number one - don't buy the cheap stuff. This is what it does to you,sorella."

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Jeremiah's jaw went slightly slack before he tried to respond to Sham...Yeah...sham was her name, right.

"Recipr...Recipro...Uh what?"

He wouldnt have had any problem with that in his natural state of normality, but here he was far too drunk to know what the fuck this girl was talking about. Before he could say anything, another girl sat down next to them. He shrugged when she talked about buying cheap stuff.

"Hey, it taste like shit, makes you feel like shit, but it sure takes you away quick, and thats all i care about." He used his left hand as an ashtray, sticking the cig into his palms and sniffing a little at the burning smell of his flesh. Otherwise he didnt flinch, flicking the smoke over his shoulder before he leaned in, tilting his glasses down a little to look at the newcomer. He, unlike her, had no idea where or who she was. It wasn't personal for him either- he didnt remember why he was even in here. He downed the rest of the bottle after leaning back, throwing it over his shoulder as well, listening with a satisfied grin as he busted over someones skull. Perfect aim, even when hammered.

He looked between the two girls.

"So whats sis? Come and talk to the big scary guy in the corner? Women *hic* never talk to me, especially when they look like you." He tapped his jacket and his pockets on his pants, pulling out a large, LARGE wad of hundred dollar bills, as well as a stick of gum and a rubber band. He threw it on the table.

"There...thats gotta be what yer after....*hic*...jush like every other woman out there...Eat your heart out...." He grinned. "That sounded naughty."

Wow..Beneath the drunk facade,deep inside his emotional wall of crap, Jeremiah Sykes Was slamming his face into a random desk, trying his best to kill himself for the actions he was currently partaking in.

Stats when Drunk :

Strength- 20
Speed- 15
Constitution: 35
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 2
Charisma: 5

Drunk posts left: 8/10

[Sam Ballerino]

Sam snickered as he tried to pronounce "reciprocate." She guessed he'd have a problem with that one. She was distracted, however, by the appearance of Tash, and she laughed as the italiana started giving her life lessons.

Sam looked around the hulk in horror as the bottle he threw over his shoulder landed on some poor boy's skull. She leaned on her crutch to make the laborious journey to standing, but gave it up when a group of students began crowding around him.

She stared at the guy sitting across from her, bag of carrots forgotten. She just watched as he pulled out a wad of bills, and she gave a little disbelieving half smile as he told them to take it.

"I don't want your money," Sam said, ignoring his perverted afterthought. "I just wanted a place to sit down and eat lunch." She picked up the stick of gum. "I will, however, take this, since you seem to be so intent on handing us something."

She was starting to feel sorry for him. Obviously he had issues with women. She looked at Tash. "È puzza," she said, referring to the alcohol. "Non sono sicuro se ritengo la pietà per lui, o funziono via."

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Jeremiah rose both his eyebrows in slight surprise. These girls new other languages? Good god, what was with schooling today? Everyone smart, fast, strong, and approaching random people most would stay away from on normal days. He rolled his shoulders as his face grew a little more serious. He couldnt help but chuckle a little after she finished her sentence. He was seeing two of her after all. His own speech was slurred, and obviously lacking in accent, but was also well pronounced and stable- it was a close as he was gonna get to speaking in italian drunk. It amazed him in all actuality, since he could barely speak in english, yet these words seemed to pour off his tounge.

"Andare avanti e parlare un'altra lingua. Im bevuto, non sordi o muti e capisco perfettamente."

He reached into his front pocket, pulling out another smoke and lighting it smoothly, sticking the butt into his mouth and inhaling slowly.

"But please, ladies, don't let me stop you from working that talented tongue on each other...Whoa...did i just say a who sen-" He burped deep, pounding his chest a little with his fist." Sentence without fail?" He grinned. "Oh, i'm good."

He placed the smoke in his mouth, the nicotene entering his system and immediately going to work on calming him, as well as counter-acting the thick drunkedness he currently bathed in.

Stats when Drunk :

Strength- 20
Speed- 15
Constitution: 35
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 2
Charisma: 5

Cigs undermine Drunked stupor.

Drunk posts left:1/10

[Tash]

Tash raised her eyebrows. It was Italian alright. Poorly accented, crude, and inebriated but Italian. What was this guy's deal? It was no crime to try and find a place to sit and eat lunch. She murmurs to Sam, her husky voice barely carrying and speaking a short babble of Italian that would likely be too fast for a sober non-native speaker, let alone a drunken one.

"Sam, questo tipo è così cannone sciolto. non è neppure divertente."

She settled herself at the table and shot a look over Sam's head to Jeremiah.

"Calm down, big guy. We're just trying to eat our lunch okay?"

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Well, at least she got one thing right- not to underestimate this drunken man.

Unbeknownst to her, Jeremy wasnt even trying to keep track of what she was saying. He was beginning to calm down, though the alcohol still pumped through his veins mildly. He puffed a little more on the smoke before leaning on the table a little to give himself support as his brain began to recouperate and spin at a hearty rate. He chuckled a little, a strange one since it was oddly calm and irate, as if she just told him to quit jumping around when he was sleeping.

"Calm down? What did i do wrong? I thought i was pretty calm..."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his smokes.

"You want a cig?"

It was a polite offer, and if it was rejected he would shrug and replaced them into his pocket before looking to his right and asking a question.

"So, you girls have names?"

He spoke to them both- though this would be the third time Sam had given him her name. Perhaps an effect of the alcohol? Possibly. Or maybe he just liked to hear her say it.

[Sam Ballerino]

Jeremiah seemed like one of those people that you shouldn’t make sudden moves around, especially when they’re drunk, and that was the approach that Sam took. It looked like he was sobering up a bit, though; maybe those cigarettes were doing more for him than lowering his lung capacity.

She refused his offer of the cancer stick and sighed heavily as he asked for her name (again), torn between horrible frustration and forced tolerance for the alcoholic smoker. The latter won out.

Mostly.

“Well, for the third time now, my name is Sam. SAAAMM. Like Samantha. Got it this time?” She raised an eyebrow at him. Sure, she was frustrated, but she couldn't help a small, slightly amused little half grin. She would have introduced Tash, but she didn’t seem to like him very much, and Sam didn’t know if the italiana would want him to know her name.

Sam wondered why she didn’t just get up and walk away. Aside from the fact that it took her five whole minutes just to stand up. Jeremiah was certainly what her mother would call “un persona piazzaiolo.” But he intrigued her. In a different way than Damien did, to be sure. But she sensed a wall there, somewhere behind the alcohol and the insults.

Maybe it was curiosity; maybe it was pity. But in Sam’s mind, walls like those were meant for climbing.