Amalgaverse High

On account of it being October, the most festive places are already decorating and the nightlife venues are certainly preparing for the Halloween holiday. The Zephyr is no exemption to this because what's better than teenage shenanigans on the last party holiday before everyone's trapped in their homes by snow and frigid temperatures. Fake spider webs hang from the ceilings and all sort of gruesome decorations are present on the walls and doors. The DJ is even sliding in a few themed tracks, just for the more Halloween enthuastic kids.

Alec is in a better mood than usual, which is saying something. He's currently chilling in an oversized, comfy chair with a drink in one hand and one of those massive pixi stix in the other. He's chugging the candy down like an addict getting their fix and there's already two discarded tubes on the ground in front of him. He's going to be /flying/. Maybe even literally.

Oh no, new kid alert. Carmichael's family just literally moved into town a few few days ago, and hailing from California, he's finding all this cold weather to be foreign and, well, /terrible/ what is this even? But he's heard tell that this is where the cool kids hand out, and since he's not starting classes until Monday, he figures he'll get a head's up on that whole meeting people thing. So, here he is, walking into the building and eyeing the decor for a moment before slipping out of his super cool red motorcycle jacket. Awww yeeeah.
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Violent hunger. Like when it feels like your stomach is eating you from the inside out. When you feel as if you haven't eaten for days, even weeks. The kind of sensation that causes you to double over in pain.

Phe had never felt something like it before. Not even that time she was sick and couldn't eat solid food for a whole week. It never felt like this. It never forced her out of a deep sleep, fighting its way to the surface.

She was hungry.

Walking downstairs to the kitchen felt like it took far longer than it really did. There was a point when she had to stop in the hallway because the pain in her gut was so bad. In the kitchen, nothing satiated her. Bread was supposed to be heavy, filling. Even mushrooms, normally something she eats a few of and feels like she's eaten a four course meal.

It's not until the third look into the fridge that she catches the scent of exactly what she needs. Steaks, raw and fresh. Her dad must have bought them today and they smell absolutely amazing.

She had almost torn the packaging open in a fit of hunger before she realized exactly why they smelled so good.

Blood.

They were fresh, they were raw and they were bloody.

In a surprising moment of calmness, she returned the steaks to their former spot in the fridge, closed the door and stepped back into the dark kitchen. The thought that she needed to feed was concerning. Her hunger was never this strong, even when she put it off for a few days. This, this was an unnatural hunger and it demanded to be fed.

Shaking almost like an addict needing a fix, another symptom she had never had, she returned to her room to throw some clothes on. Grabbing a jacket, she silently set out into the cool October night in hopes of shaking off this craving in her gut.

Evening in town means most people tend to disperse, some off to parties and some off to their homes. Most that continue to remain out through the evening aren't necessarily less-than-savory, but they're probably not the kids that get A grades. Stranger things have happened, though. Phoenix, however, is taking a walk across town on her way home from her boyfriend's place.

Ginger, be at home? Around her annoying parents? Screw that. She'd much rather spend her evening wandering the streets, puffing away on a cigarette with the hood of her jacket pulled up over her face.

Then there are those that /are/ less-than-savory. Like Deacon, who's decided it's dinner time. This means a trip to McDonald's- if McDonald's is code for 'heading downtown trolling for delicious hoomans'. So down the street he goes, dressed in, surprise surprise, all black, walking with what can easily be classified as a swagger to his steps.

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Welcome, parents and students and teachers alike, to the open house! The outside of the school has been decorated with streamers and brightly colored signs, directing people inwards through the open doors.

Once inside there's a small podium with a sign in book (just so Principal Blake can track who RSVP'd and showed up/didn't show up) right near the doorway. Past that brass bars with velvet ropes connecting them form a pathway to lead visitors and staff alike into the gymnasium.

In the gym, tables are set up with punch and several party subs all cut up into small portions. There's more than enough food for everyone to have seconds. There's also paper plates, cups, napkins, all that fine stuff. Staff mill about, waiting to be approached, and the man himself (Mr. Blake) looms near the emergency exit doors in his tuxedo, sipping punch.

So parents, students, teachers, go and mingle! Have fun! Try not to break anything or Mr. Blake WILL be upon you like an unholy plague.