The General populus...

[Daxon]

Cause and effect.....that is one of the major principles that rules the universe and Daxon had discovered one of the infinite numbers of cause and effect chains.

Today's Lesson was not tell a large gang of students that they were no higher on the evolutionary scale then cockroaches, though Daxon did admit cockroaches had more brains then they did as a collective. The group of insects were spray painting some crude English literature upon a few of the lockers along the school for kicks apparently. Daxon happened to walk across the act in progress, made the evolution comment and finishing with a statement that went....

"It's enough I got to look at you guy's let alone your vocabulary...."

The effect from this wasn't a harsh beat down on Daxon's well being but an imprisonment into one of the lockers that had been left ajar in the hallway, which was then instantly locked shut. Daxon not having the strength to break the door down, was thusly stuck in his new cell which smelt of gym socks. He did consider the fact that a pummeling may have been a better alternative to imprisionment...but then remembered just how much distest he had for pain.


At least he had brought a sandwich along, which was conveniently stored in his baggy jean's left pocket. Ham and cheese the cell food of champions.

"Om....nom......Om.....nom"

As Daxon devoured his delicious snake he come to the realization that he would need to relay on the help of another, what fun. It was like being imprisoned with the prospect of being freed by crawling in sewage.

For all Daxon was considered was that the general populous of the school and most of the tri-country area.....were...complete and utter morons to some extent. Even if Daxon remained in this locker for a few hours he found it amusing that he was a bit more separated from the idiocy that lay outside the locker.

Today was shaping out to be for lack of a better word.......crap.

At least he had his sandwich.....

"Om...Nom...om...nom"

[January]

Smathers twists and turns in his sleep. His dreams are plagued by nightmarish thoughts of a land of starvation. The air is thick with savory smells. Foods doing loop-de-loops in the upper atmosphere. On the ground, the people mill around aimlessly, gazing at the sky and begging for rain. The only thing that fell were the weak and starving, and they never got up.

Suddenly a particular foodsmell grows stronger and stronger, threatening to destroy minds with its mere power. The nose of the human is not well enough refined in the waking world to deliver the strength of this smell outside the realms of dream. The smell was...

Ham and cheese.

Smathers' quiet snoring ceases with an abrupt snort as he jerks into wakefulness. Wait, was he awake? He still smelled the savory olfactory sensation of a sandwich's proximity.

Smathers shuffles around a little inside the locker. He had been quite tired, and had chosen to sleep standing in one of the things. They were warm and dry and therefore better than some places he had slept recently. Still, standing while sleeping is a strange experience because it changes the blood flow in the body from what one would usually experience while sleeping; chiefly, less flows to the brain than in a prone person due to gravity. Less oxygen to the brain = some weird dreams, at least for Smathers.

Now there is a sound. Smathers freezes into stillness.

"nom nom nom" it goes. Smathers presses an ear to the wall of his compartment. THERE WAS SOMEONE IN THE NEXT LOCKER, AND THEY WERE EATING!!!

"Hey buddy share some of that with me will ya!?" He shouts, hammering on the wall.

[Daxon]

"Nom...nom....AHCKKKCKCK"

Daxon would have never expected this sort of thing in a million years, thus he had choked a bit on his last bite. It would appear that someone was also occupying the adjacent locker to his.....and apparently he wanted his ham and cheese sandwich. In the dim light leaking into the locker Daxon could roughly see and feel that he had 3/4 of a full sandwich left.

After the airways were clear of all food materials did Daxon speak to the unknown voice.

"O yes....I'll just hand it through the solid wall shall I?"

Sighed Daxon in a highly sarcastic tone taking a quarter bite from the sandwich that lay in his hands. Daxon's other hand was rubbing his temple in annoyance that the kid beside him thought that a magical hand would bust though the aluminum locker into his, and hand him the sandwich. It was almost unbearable......

"How about if you get me outta here, I'll give you the rest of my sandwich, not a bad trade I would think on my end for freedom."

The logic was supreme on that statement and it made Daxon feel allot better then from what the unknown kid had stated before. Daxon would slowly tilt his head to the side waiting for the acceptance of his offer the rest of the sandwich slowly looming to wards his mouth for the finishing bite.....

[Andy]

Why was he here? What was he doing here? That is a question only answerable by the few people who were aware of the hidden hierarchy of the school. Roughly speaking, it went from the thugs down to everyone else who couldn't stand a chance against those guys. Avoiding them was a better choice.

Persuaded by the janitors to lend a hand, Andrew, clad in a white bandanna tied in an upside down triangle on his head with his monastery-esque robes, entered the province wielding a rather long mop and a fresh metal bucket full of water. Along the edges of the bucket were rags of various sizes, with most of them bearing a rather nasty shade of brown. The lockers in this area were a mess, with long lines of graffiti strewn across several at a time, expressing the vulgar languages which the local hoodlums used religiously.

Personally, he held annoyance at graffiti. Most of these words could be substituted with better, more educational, words such as feces and fornication. Angling his head down, placing his right hand on the top part of the mop while placing his left on the lower part, he began to mop side to side. The issue with mopping was the pressure and strain on the lower back from bending over. If one should mop forward and back, he would probably bend over and push forward. However, by mopping side to side, the strain was reduced greatly.

"Nothing better than a clean place."

As the mop progressed farther into enemy territory, the sick odor of fresh paint caught his olfactory unit. Raising his scarf to cover his nose and mouth, Andrew continued mopping, then proceeded to wash off the graffiti from the lockers. The ordered process continued as he followed up by swinging open each locker to allow ventilation to clear away the stench.

"The smell is finally clearing up, maybe I won't need those aerosols..."

The smell of cheese and ham wafted through the air. Oh....it reminded him of how hungry he was. Swinging open some more lockers with a mindset bent on finishing the job and then running to the mess hall, Andrew worked expeditiously. The sweat was beginning to seep into the bandanna, however it was nothing compared to the rather awkward scene which he encountered.

Inside the locker were two students. A sudden burst of annoyance and sympathy filled his heart. However, he kept his voice calm.

"Wha- hey. Are you two alright? I'd hate to state the obvious, but those lockers look uncomfortably small. And it smells like food in here."

[January]

"NOOOOOO!"

Smathers cries out, hearing the choking sounds. He was dying!? Smathers had blown it; his one chance for happiness and a ham and cheese sandwich, gone gone gone, precious, gone for ever! Oh and of course he had killed someone too, how awful, how unbelievably horrible!

Then the coughing and hacking dies down, and a voice speaks out in biting sarcasm. Smathers' tears well up, his relief at not having killed someone and lost a chance at a sandwich clearly evident. He would not have picked food off a dead body; that was just low class. Well, he would have, but he would have hated himself later. For a little while.

Hearing the voice's offer, Smathers is moved again. The guy was stuck in a locker against his will? what injustice. Hearing the offer of sandwich for freedom, he is about to speak up in exhuberant acceptance of the proposed terms, when a sneaky suspicion comes over him. What if the guy eats the sandwich before I let him out? What if he's already eaten it!?!?

Smathers puts on his thinking cap. He had to think of something, and quickly!

*DING*

That's it!

Smathers digs deep into his coat and pulls out a can opener. In the dim light leaking into the locker, the metal apparatus gleams and reflects a mad gleam in Smather's hungry eyes and his wide toothy grin.

"I'll have the sandwich first, and then I'll let you out! Step away from the wall!" he shouts.

With that, Smathers growls and attacks the wall with the can opener, whose blade plunges through the metal alarmingly and eventually carves a fist-sized hole in the thin metal separating the lockers.

"Pass it through!"

Suddenly, someone opens his locker hideaway. A blinding light strikes Smathers from the side, and he reels from the force of its brightness.

"AHHHH THE LIGHT!" He yelps. Leaping and pulling himself up, he scrambles into the hole in the top of the locker from which he had entered the thing the night before, and disappears from sight into the ceiling.

Leaving behind only a rusty can opener as evidence of his presence.

[Daxon]

Daxon had never before seen such weirdness or irrational behavior in his life....it almost gave him a headache of epic proportions. Daxon's left hand still massaged his left temple compassionately as he looked at the hole the one kid had made with a can opener then to wards the other kid who had freed him.

The blue orbs in Daxon's skull looked extremely annoyed at the situation that they were observing. And if Daxon's ears could looked annoyed they would have at the ones kid's ridiculous statement to wards the lockers uncomfortable nature....OF COURSE THEY WERE UNCOMFORTABLE!! IT WAS A LOCKER!! That statement wasn't needed for Daxon to realize it.

But the kid in white T-shirt, baggy blue jeans and messy black hair named Daxon felt that he was being a bit to critical to wards the kid who freed him. If there was one thing to get on the good side of Daxon it would be freeing him from imprisonment, there was a few other things to get on Daxon's good side but that was one of them.

Daxon moved his left hand through his messy jet black hair as he slowly stepped out of the locker and tossed the half of the sandwich which was somewhat wrapped in plastic to wards the kid. A promise was a promise no matter who it was made to....a sandwich for freedom, that was the deal and Daxon was not a deal breaker.

"Here"

Daxon's voice was calmer then what it had been earlier. He didn't even thank the kid who had rescued him, Daxon felt that they were square now, no one owed the other nothing now. The good side that this kid had been on had now run out, tho brief. What ever happened next would determine if Daxon could go back to thinking that most people in the school were idiots and savages and the like. Daxon wasn't what people would call depressed or goth'en such. He just had a cemented and unmovable notion of what he liked and didn't like.

The gaze Daxon had almost looked like he was was almost looking though people....

[Andy]

"Here"

Andrew took the sandwich as it was handed to him, by ways of tossing. It smelled very nice! Ham and cheese it was, with a little bit taken off of the top, but edible nonetheless. He was at a loss for words, as he watched the black haired male, who had tossed him the sandwich, clamber out of the locker. Looking at the sandwich, Andrew pocketed it without another thought and decided he would trash it later. Right now the most important issue was making sure the other student was alright and that the lockers were clean. He took a quick glance down the row of lockers and decided that they were clean enough.

People's eyes have a way of influencing many things. A simple turn or twist of the eye could signal annoyance. Unblinking eyes staring at a person could show concentration or aggression. As Andrew glanced down the lockers, then at Daxon, he saw Daxon's eyes. They were eerily focused. He felt transparent as he locked his gaze for a moment and turned back to his bucket and rags. Honestly, the male appeared to be a bit lax, and enjoyed loose fitting clothing. Synonymously, he appeared to dislike following social norms to a certain degree, judging by his act. It didn't matter. One could almost judge that this student was anti-social, or socially handicapped. He got stuffed in a locker by some thugs, which showed that he could either be stupid or direct in his manner of acting. Interesting. Why was he thinking about this? His main priority was to head to the mess hall ASAP.

Lugging his materials with a slight bit of sweat on his bandanna, Andrew approached the male.

"Hey there, it's good to see that you aren't injured. Heh. And thanks for the sandwich. I'm in a hurry to get to the cafeteria after putting my stuff back, so- would you mind joining me? It's better to eat with another than by oneself after all."

He enjoyed company while eating. It got rid of the loneliness one usually has when eating by himself. And...looks are decieving. This unusual student standing before him could be a riot! Well...he would wait and see- and besides...talking always helped.