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The Bonfire
Bobby laughed as Troy said to "bring it," whilst obviously having second thoughts about taking him on. This was just boring now, and Bobby reckoned that by now he was starting to waste valuable observation time, which was, in his opinion, never a good thing. The confrontation was difusing moment by moment and Troy was pretty much saying the same thing over and over. Come to think of it he was just saying the same thing over and over. Okay, time to get outta here before everything just collapsed. Bobby had never wanted a fight in the first place, and Troy looked like he might be shaking in his boots by now.

"You know what? Screw this. If you want a fight then I'm in the gym every day, at least five till eight, sometimes more than that. You can catch up to me there and this kind of thing can stay where it belongs; In a ring or an arena, where it's allowed. Troy, if you don't have the guts to do that then you and your lover boy can just stay the hell away from me and leave me to myself,"

Bobby swung round and walked away, moving past Erick and going back down to the water's edge. He sure was glad all of that was over...

The Bonfire
Bobby rolled his eyes in exasperation at Troy's obstinacy. For crying out loud, he'd just said he knew they were trying to go after him, why did Troy insist on saying that it was Bobby who was in the wrong here?

"Just keep talking Troy. Every word you say and I'm that little bit closer to laying the smackdown on you," this was quickly becoming monotonous, back and forth, back and forth. Maybe this little confrontation had reached the point where he ought to just back away and leave the whole damn incident behind...


Still searching out whatever alcohol he could find, Chris was surprised to see something of a... well, something going on near to the cooler. Looks like somebody has skipped straight to the making out bit of the party, and it looks like they've got company. As Chris went a little closer out of curiosity, he noticed something very strange. Wait a sec, aren't both of those guys? Chris let out a rueful sigh, then grinned. Those two would receive no end of crap if someone discovered who they were, Chris took out a beverage of some kind out of the cooler then watched the proceedings in an interested fashion.

The Bonfire
Bobby shot Troy a grin which had utterly no humour in it whatsoever. The boxer hoped that the would-be gangster knew that he was treading on thin ice right about now. There was only so much insult that the presence of Darnell and Erick could alleviate and that allowance was pretty much drained by Tyson. Now that Troy was adding to it the pile, the ice was starting to creak...

"Troy, you're the guy that needed backup to even work up the guts to come over here and try and take me on, so save it for somebody who might have the slightest inclination to believe you. And unless you've forgetten it was you and your pal here who started the whole damn thing. Don't even try to make it look like I'm the one after a fight here,"


Tyson brushed himself off as Troy came over to him. Fucking Bobby Jacks, what an absolute son of a bitch. Thought he was so damned clever and cool, total loner was the truth.

"Yeah I'm fine, just give me five seconds with this guy with a knife or something and I'll sort him," it was a joke, a poor one, but then again it was one of Tyson's. None of his jokes were ever remotely funny, especially in serious situations.


Chris "Average" Joesi was extremely out of breath as he arrived at the beach for the scheduled beach party/bonfire. He was late and he knew it, but he'd gotten way too wrapped up in his workout earlier. Chris just kept thinking "one more set," "ten more repeats," and before he knew it the party had already started without him and he was virtually triple-timing it down to the beach. Chris just hoped he hadn't missed anything.

The Bonfire
Fortunately, Darnell had managed to calm Bobby down just about enough to stop him from starting something with everybody. Tyson and Troy though... well, that was another matter. Bobby was pissed enough about what Tyson had said, now that he knew Troy and Tyson had been planning to go after him... Hell he didn't even care why they were going after him, but nobody was going to get a cheapshot on him and get away with it.

"That's bullshit McCann, and you ought to know that I trust Darnell a hell of a lot more than I trust you," the boxer snapped to Troy. "But if your boyfriend means so much to you, I guess you can have your little fuckbuddy back," Bobby shoved Tyson away from him and sent him sprawling to the sand.


Immediately the dimunutive runner got back to his feet and was about to try and charge past Darnell, but thought better of it. Angry or not, Darnell would kick his ass in a fight. Tyson knew he wasn't much for brawling, which was precisely why he'd roped in Troy to help him. Troy would help Tyson, by getting to grips with Jacks, Tyson would help Troy by giving him the idea and improving his so-called street cred. It had looked so easy on the figurative paper...

Chris "Average" Joesi
Name: “Average” Chris Joesi, nicknamed “Average,” or “Joey”
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Grade: 12th
School: Southridge High School
Hobbies and interests: “Average” Chris Joesi likes to try everything that he has the opportunity to have a shot at. Most activities can hold his interest, even though he might not be particularly good at any of them. The only area that Chris excels in is, curiously enough, getting into arguments. Chris has the unfortunate trait of being quick enough with his mouth that his brain doesn’t manage to make a decision. In other words, Chris often says things without thinking, which inevitably leads to arguments. In kind Chris is good at defending himself both verbally and physically, skills that he develops by attending debate club and taking a little time to go to the gym.

Appearance: Chris’ appearance is fairly well summed up by his nickname; average. Chris is about 5 foot 9”; with a fraction less weight on him than you would expect for somebody that height. Chris is built slightly more slender than the norm, as he is more athletic than muscular from his numerous sporting endeavours.

Chris’ hair is a fairly nondescript light brown, and his eyes are a similar brown in colour. Chris isn’t particularly tanned, though he’s outside a lot he is inside for an almost equal amount of time and he wears a “cowboy” sun hat pretty much constantly. Chris has a face which is mildly attractive, though he doesn't exactly have girls fawning over him. He has a small vertical scar begining at his lower lip and extending to the bottom of his jaw which is quite livid and fairly recent.

Chris has no standard code of dress; his scope of clothes is as wide as his scope of activities, so Chris has a look for every occasion and a miraculous ability to change clothes in an instant. Given 20 or so seconds and a convenient place to hide and Chris will be in completely different attire.

Biography: To put it simply, Chris is average, average, average. It wasn’t only because of his surname Joesi that a lot of people call him “Average Joe,” Chris is not a brilliant thinker, nor a great athlete, he argues better than he debates and trains less than he babbles. Occasionally known as “Joey” Chris has rubbed just about everybody he ever met the wrong way at some point, those he disliked were condemned to endless verbal jibes and a fight if they took exception, those he liked subjected to constant pleas and attempts to resume friendship.
Chris doesn’t do relationships by half measures. If you’re a friend, you’ll never be rid of him. If you’re an enemy, almost nothing will convince him to resume his almost mythical “indifferent stance” There are very few people that Chris knows that he doesn’t either love or hate. The only people not in one of these camps are ones that he doesn’t actually know yet.

Regardless, or perhaps because of his attitudes, Chris is by nature a very determined person. However, this determination also accounts for a degree of bull-headedness; sometimes Chris is so single minded in the pursuit of an objective that he can’t be reasoned with. For example after he once came close to last in an entire class track run, Chris became utterly focused on never suffering that kind of humiliation again. Never mind that he was still recovering from a serious fever. Chris decided that the reason he had done so badly was a lack of fitness and began running around the track time and time again. After several laps he collapsed and was admitted to hospital to be treated. Coupled with a relapse of his illness, Chris spent almost a month confined to bed.

Despite the negative implications of this trait, Chris is well known for never giving up, he’d rather be seriously injured than quit. Even if he’s hurt or tired Chris will just keep going, though this can once again be misconstructed as sheer idiocy.

Growing up, Chris always had the freedom to do pretty much anything that he wanted to do. With a sickly older sister, and a very solitary brother two years his junior Chris was held as the apple of his parents' eyes. They didn't spoil him per se, but with one child almost unable to go out and the other prone to disappearing for days at a time, Chris' parents found they spent a lot more time with him than with his siblings. Perhaps the structure of his family was what led to Chris developing his "love 'em or hate 'em" attitude to people in general.

Chris always adored his sister Sophie. Often bedridden and confined to a wheelchair 90% of the time Sophie was a lonely and sad figure before her first brother came along. Chris doted upon her from an early age, and was capable of bringing a smile to her face far more frequently than their parents could manage. Of course, when Don, the pair's younger brother was born, Chris was still only two, and Sophie eleven but by the time Chris was seven, Sophie was sixteen and Don was five, friction began to emerge.

Don was jealous that his brother spent more time with their sister than with him, and Chris disliked Don because he would not stop bugging him with pleas to play and go out. Chris didn't mind at first, but in the fashion of a kid Don's age, even when Chris did pay attention to him he just wouldn't let up. Perhaps the middle Joesi was guilty of being judgemental and not taking into account his brother's age. On the ohter hand, Chris was young himself.

Regardless of any of this, Chris and Don were never close, and in turn the two of them began a fued which would last for years and drive their parents and sister to despair. While Chris was bigger and tougher than Don, easily beating him in any phsyical disputes, Don was sneaky and clever and Chris was the victim of many a prank of his.

The entire rivalry came to a head when Chris reached his sixteenth and Don his fourteenth year (the brothers sharing a birthday). Despite express orders to be on their best behaviour the two of them had a particularly heated argument in the morning, culminating in Chris declaring that the world was a marginally worse place for having Don in it. As Don fled the scene in tears Chris was confined to his room for the remainder of the day as punishment for his words. Meanwhile Don had taken what Chris had said to heart and decided he might as well just do the right thing and get rid of himself. (It should be noted that Don suffered from severe bouts of depression, and Chris had triggered an especially bad one) Chris carefully considered what he had said and made up his mind to apologise to his younger brother. Chris was horrified to discover Don with a kitchen knife at his throat and rushed to stop him before it was too late. Panicked and paranoid Don slashed Chris with the knife, cutting his face deeply below the lip. Stunned he had hurt his brother, Don immediately dropped the knife and went to help him. The result of this encounter was extremely positive: Don agreed to attend Rehab, Chris patched up relations with his brother and he eased off his extremes very slightly.

Advantages: Due to his diverse range of interests, Chris can fit in with most people, as he knows a lot about a lot of things and has a diverse range of skills. Also, his friendliness endears him to those who are his friends.

Disadvantages: Chris could argue with a brick wall and though his devotion as a friend is nice, it can become cloying. Despite having become slightly less unforgiving as pertaining to relationships, there are still a lot of fresh wounds from Chris' words or grudges in the past and few trust that he won't return to his old ways.

The Bonfire
"And it is your own fight for exactly what reason McCann?" Bobby snarled as Troy directed his words to the sudden appearence of Darnell Butler. Darnell was tough, there was no doubt about that, but Bobby felt that if push came to shove he would be able to take him on but it wouldn't be easy. Darnell was on the wrestling team and football team and Bobby had seen some of the things he had done to much larger guys. No way in hell was Tyson getting away from him after what he'd said.

Bobby returned his attention to Darnell, but also directed some of his words to the new guy; Erick. As he spoke he hefted his captive up a little to give some emphasis to his words. If they thought for one second he was going to back down then they were sorely mistaken.

"Do either of you have any fucking clue what this little bastard even said to me? Have either of you even fucking noticed just how neatly McCann's little bit of interference fitted onto this incident? Most importantly, did either of you see the so-called "injured party" give our resident gangsta a fucking thumbs up?"

A lot of words from Bobby, a lot more than he would usually say at any one time. On the other hand, Tyson had him seriously pissed, and the interference from Darnell and Erick had made him even more so. Bobby was very close to snapping, and he had no idea what he would do then. The boxer rarely lost his temper, and Bobby tried to force himself to remain calm. He waited for Darnell's reaction.

The Bonfire
Tyson would have breathed a sigh of relief that Troy had managed to spot his predicament, but he was too busy trying to breath around Bobby's fist which was grabbing at his collar and throat. Damn, he hadn't realised Bobby was quite as big as he was. Troy was the same height but the boxer had the "gangsta" dead to rights in the muscle, even if Troy wasn't quite so scrawny as he used to be, Bobby looked like he hit the gym every day of his life since he was seven. Which he pretty much had.


Bobby turned his head slightly to fix his angry gaze on Troy. "Mac" was just as tall as he, but Bobby knew that he was a lot bigger in terms of overall muscle. He could expect Troy to be a bit faster, but not as powerful. Bobby knew how to analyse somebody in this kind of way, and he reckoned he could deal with his weaknesses and play to his strengths. Bobby's main disadvantage here was numbers, he didn't expect Tyson to stay out of things, coward or not. Bobby readied himself for a fight, shifting his stance and getting his muscles into the right position.

Go on McCann, make a move.

The Bonfire
"Hey yo! Bobby! Bobby!" the boxer caught his name being called out immediately as the sound cut through the talk of the crowd. It was a shout, and Bobby recgonised the distinctive voice of Tyson Neills. He frowned in confusion, what did that kid want now? Bobby was just finding a peaceful spot and somebody had to interrupt him. Still, it was rude not to acknowledge he had heard the call so he replied with a degree of reluctance.

"I'm over here Tyson," he called, moving into the crowd to find out just the hell he wanted.


Tyson tipped Troy a wink as Bobby responded to his call, if all went well, the plan was not too far from fruition. With a little help from Tyson, Troy should be easily able to take on the bigger guy, despite Bobby's boxing credentials.

As Bobby approached Tyson ran across to him and could be seen to whisper something in his ear. Whatever is was it riled Bobby up a great deal, and he immediately grabbed Tyson by the collar and lifted him up with ease. Bobby had a lot of weight and almost a foot of height on Tyson, and he was a great deal more muscular. What Bobby didn't see was Tyson give a thumbs up behind his back to Troy. Now all Mac had to do was deliver and it would be perfect....

Sorry for dipping out without notice, my comp got busted but its fine now and I'm back.

The Bonfire
"Well you see Mac, that's where I come in. I figured a way to make you look like the better man and to get your cred up by beating Jacks down," Tyson was hopping back and forth, his nervous energy bursting at the seams. "Just let me take care of starting the fight Mac, once he swings for me then you can make a show of sticking up for me," Tyson grinned. "You see, I'm willing to take a punch from our champion boxer to help you out, all you gotta do is step in and let him know that you don't like fighting between the brothers, but then tell him that you gotta teach him a lesson for starting something on me. You got it?" Tyson, absorbed in the plan, did not have a trace of hostile inflection in his voice. If this worked.... it would be spectacular.


Ric made careful sure he didn't come too close to anybody, but most of the partygoers, knowing who resided underneath that hood, kept well away. It was well known that Ric hated people coming anywhere near him, especially if they touched him.

Ric stuck close to Vicente's tail, he was more comfortable around his friend, so he could stand being a little bit closer to him than he would be to another person, though that was still a fair amount.


Sean smiled along with his baseball team mate.
"We sure are buddy. We're going to go all the way this year. I've got the feeling too," As Michael moved away, heading back to his girl he guessed, Sean called after him. "See you later man, stay legendary!"

The Bonfire
"Well look man," Tyson began, feeling that his little scheme may be falling into place. "To be the best and the hardest, you gotta beat the best and the hardest. That's my view, and I got just the right guy for you to beat down on," Tyson knew exactly what he was doing. He disliked Troy; well, not exactly disliked but they weren't exactly the best of buddies either, but he hated Bobby Jacks, and that was the guy that Tyson had been speaking about.

Tyson hated the way Bobby acted like he was some kind of badass, either that, or like he was better than everyone else. Tyson had tried to make friends with him once and Bobby had pretty much ignored him. What an asshole! But anyway, it wasn't Bobby Tyson was talking to, but Troy, he needed to stay focused.
"Bobby Jacks reckons he's a tough guy, and I think that you're just the man to put him in his place Mac. I mean, there ain't nobody tough as you round here, they just don't know it yet," If everything went well, Bobby would be on his back KO'd by the end of the night and Tyson wouldn't have even had to have done it himself.

The Official Slack Contest!
Right, now I get you. I think. I'll try to do that in future.


Thanks Slack, sorry you didn't find it interesting.

The Official Slack Contest!
You mean I paragraph too much?

The Bonfire
Sean grinned as Michael came over to him. The baseball team was his home away from home, and despite some of the guy's shortfallings, Sean especially got on with Michael Hardy.
"Nothing much Michael," his accent was only slight. "But it looks like things are just starting to get rolling now," Sean laughed when Michael asked where the beer was. "I've got some here," Sean told him, and fished out a can from a pocket of his jacket. Sean had maybe two or three more in there, it wasn't hard to get ahold of at his place.


"Hey Mac!" Tyson called. Tyson liked Troy in truth, but the guy just annoyed him sometimes. Hell, he thought the guy annoyed everyone, why the heck was he so fixated on being "gangsta"? Tyson guessed that part of the reason was because he was black too, it was irritating because it made him feel as if Troy thought that was how black guys should behave, which was just wrong.
"Mac, I was looking for you," Tyson managed to look sincere, which was one of his talents, Tyson was a very good liar when he set his mind to it. "I reckon I seen something which can make you look like a proper tough gangster man, want to hear it?"

The Official Slack Contest!
I don't feel cheated, just a little annoyed. You've taken up formatting with me before and I just don't understand what you've been telling me. Give it to me in dummy forms, I'm not all that clever in this kind of thing, and I'm gonna need it spelled out for me.

The Bonfire
Ric glanced across at Vicente and gingerly began to follow him through the crowds of people. He didn't like this, there was too many people around, too close. Ric shuddered and managed to repress a rising feeling to get the hell out of there, screaming at the top of his voice, but he felt a little reassurred by the fact that Vicente was there. Vicente, after all, was his friend, and he was good to talk to.

"Oh I like watching them," Ric assured Vicente with a sigh. "But sometimes they almost catch me, and that's really scary. Once, one of them got me and I couldn't see for two whole days," The actual reason for Ric's temporary loss of sight that one time had been because he had passed out following a fit from his condition. It had been a while ago of course, but Ric felt edgy about it even now. He was really careful when he watched the Flirds now.

Sean's face lit up when he saw one of his friends had arrived. No time to worry about moronic Evan Angler, Michael Hardy was in town!
"Hey Mike! Michael! Over here man! It's Lucky!" Most people called Sean Lucky, and what had been a nickname that he had once resented, it was now something of a badge that Sean wore with pride.
Sean had to face it, he was Lucky. Seen as he was Irish, some attributed it to just that. Sean always laughed when people said that.
Sean wasn't lucky because he was Irish, Sean was lucky because whoever had put him down here knew he was something special.

The Bonfire
Sean couldn't stand Evan, the guy was a moron. Especially when he was drunk. Sean wouldn't voice that, as it wasn't really in his nature to tell somebody what he thought about them.
No, Sean would just quietly brood about their various shortcomings behind their backs, never getting in their faces about it.
After all, if he insulted them, they might pick a fight with him, and a fight might get him hit. Not only would that hurt but it was likely to ruin both his hairstyle and his meticulously applied makeup.
Sean spent a lot of time on his appearence, and he wasn't planning on just getting it messed up like he didn't care.

Bobby left Keiji to his own devices for a while to go and sit next to the sea. He really wasn't in the mood for watching right now, and anyway, he didn't like crowds. Somebody might try and talk to him, and brushing people off all of the time irritated him.
Bobby glanced down the beach to see someone apparently sampling the water, but they weren't bothering him so he decided not to bother them. What would be the point in that anyway?

Ric nodded sagely to Vicente.
"But you shouldn't look at them too long you know. Otherwise they steal your pupils," Ric gently told him, in a tone that one would take whilst trying not to upset somebody. The fact that this was impossible, pupils after all being nothing but holes, didn't seem to bother Ric.
But then again, Ric was Ric, and nothing save baseball bothered him if he didn't want it to.

Hey Everyone
*hauls Froze onto the Newb boat*

Mwahaha, another, like I said, soon us Newbs shall rule the world...

*glares at RePeate*
Traitor! :P

Hi dude, the name's Clueless, Clue, Speedy, or Ze Riddler (which is apparently my nickname, I don't understand. NOOOOO :blink: )
Anyway, welcome to the site slighter newer new guy. ;)

*chokes laughing*


Anyway Froze, if you don't have any takers I'll make the deal with ya.

The Bonfire
An elusive persona quietly made his way through the people on the beach, in order to make his way to a friend he had just spotted.
Ric Chee had the hood of his jacket pulled up tight to chin and had made sure his hair was brushed forward. People didn't like seeing Ric's face so he didn't show it to them, even his befuddled mind could manage that kind of connection.
"Vicente," he whispered when he finally found his friend. "It's me; Ric. Careful not to look up too much, the Flirds are out,"
Ric wasn't referring to some SciFi race here, "Flirds" was the name he had come up for to call the strange firey things that sometimes floated across the sky when he looked up.
The fact that nobody else seemed to see them did not perturb him in the slightest.


Keiji looked at Evan with mild disapproval.
"You sure got drunk fast Evan," he commented, looking towards the resident rich guy. Or at least, the rich guy who flouted it.
He looked with a kind of wistful longing at the can that Sean was clutching, and drinking from.
"Maybe I could..."
"No Keiji, you'll only regret it in the morning," Bobby chided. "And you know you will,"
"I guess..."