Another sleepless night. Not an uncommon thing for someone like me, I guess. This was thought that ran through Jimmy's mind as he sat in his bed, gazing outside. It was bright and sunny, a direct reflection of how he DIDN'T feel. He did pay my credence to the feeling. Being a resident at Open Roads for at least a year now, he had hoped that the sleepless nights would have lessened; they didn't. Doesn't matter. He turned to look at the clock on his wall, seeing that it was 9:47 A.M. He knew he was going to be late today, on top of missing out on breakfast. Not really caring about either, je got ready for the day ahead. He walked to the sink in his bathroom and cleaned his face. When he looked back at himself in the mirror, he looked like a dead man. How am I going to explain this? "Chochote... (Whatever...)", he said to himself. With that, he threw on his old green fatigue blouse, grabbed his backpack, and went on his way. Next stop, English class.

Bʀᴇᴀᴋғᴀsᴛ Cʟᴜʙ Cᴏʟʟᴀʙᴏʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Aʟɪsᴛᴀɪʀ, Bᴇɴ, ᴀɴᴅ Isᴀʙᴇʟʟᴀ

---

Alistair gave the slightest of grins as he saw the familiar weak smile of a new blood in Open Roads. She shook his hand after her eyes seemed to look over him. He raised an eyebrow at her before she said good morning with a gentle handshake. He gave a short nod at her name “Isa, not a problem…” he tapped the side of his head with a finger and grinned “beautiful name though, I'm sorry if I call you Isabella instead sometimes” he laughed “seems a waste to shorten that name” He poked his tongue out and took a bite of the toast he had picked up. His bright blue eyes flicked from his plate to Isa when someone clattered into the table again with an almost awkwardly sounding ‘hi’. Alistair looked at the newcomer and visibly moved to put more distance between him and the man despite the lack of threat coming from him.

Isabella gleamed as the boy bit into his toast, You might not shorten mine, but I'm definitely going to shorten yours." her lips tightened as she stifled a smile. It had been a week since she had done that. It was refreshing to say the least. "What do you prefer?" the girl started off, "Ali, Al, Stair, Stairca-" Isa's ramble was interrupted by a short and simple "Hi." Isa's gaze turned to the boy who had joined them. Perhaps this spot in the dining hall would prove to be sufficient after all.

"Yoo." Isa stated back. It was friendly enough, but she still held a bit of caution towards this crowd. No matter how friendly they seemed to be, it would take a bit more time than a friendly breakfast chat to feel any sort of friendship or comfort around these people. The boy that had joined them look quite different from her own self. Isa hadn't barely even grazed the surface of what real hardship was on the streets, while this boy had clearly lived it. Her eyes met with his for a minute as she couldn't help but stare into the shattered window and frame of a home that the boy's soul resided.

Her head jerked to the side as she looked away, "Sorry." she mouthed apologetically, before looking back at him. "I'm Isabella by they way, or Isa if you prefer." she stated, as her thumb stuck out and motioned towards Alistair, "He's Alistair, or so he's told me in the last minute." the corner of her lips curved in a small smile, "So, who does that make you?"

Ben could tell that she was a bit younger than most everyone else here, but she seemed sweet. "That makes me Ben." he said, feeling a little less awkward. At least they haven't told me to leave yet. So far so good. Ben could tell that the guy, "Alistair", was getting nervous and trying to inch away from him. Ben tried to move away a bit before talking again. "Have you been here long? I've only been here since last night." he asked. For his first attempt at genuine human interaction in nearly two years, this was going much better than expected. But Ben knew it was early still, and there was a lot of time in the day for things to go wrong.

Alistair smiled at Isa as she spilled out a running of names that she would shorten his own to. He gave a short nod “Ali is fine.” He laughed before looking back at the man that introduced himself. Alistair felt a violent unease in his stomach at the man. He had always felt uncomfortable around men and the only male that had worked through that heavy feeling in his gut was his case worker. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at that two “so you’re both new…I’m a resident here.” He nodded and grinned “Wonder if you guys will stay here and be stuck with the old man I’ve got as my case worker” he laughed.

---

"No, not long. Just a week." Isa replied to Ben between bites. She nodded along with Alistair agreeing to her nickname. Isabella always liked shortening of names, it always seemed more friendly in the end. Why was it that adults always made their names longer when they 'grew' up?

As the broadcast of “Calling the following Residents to the Assembly Room in the Welcome Building: Isabella Roma, Callie Evans, Anthony Ware, Azai Chasina, Ruben Batista, Benjamin Vaughn.” swept through the shelter Isabella nodded towards Ali with a friendly wave, "I guess we will find out. See ya'll around." she called, going towards the assembly to be assigned to her caseworker for her stay.

Anthony sat accompanied by some of the other new residents. He felt uneasy. It was eerily quiet. Anthony was a bit shy. He never had trouble making friends growing up. In a way this caused him to be quite inept when meeting new people. He observed the beings around him, intrigued by the myriad of interesting characters. He sat beside Azai. Azai Chasina. The name itself had Anthony captivated. He thought the name was awesome and when it was called, he had to know more.

Anthony turned to the new resident beside him. “Azai, right? Azai Chasina?” He asked with a quizzical look. “That's a really interesting name. What's that all about?” He inquired, hoping he wasn't too invasive.

Lobby – Ground Floor, Residential Building
12:15 PM, Clair “Left Feet” Blues

Clair Blues’ classes just ended and now she waited in the lobby for her insulin shot. She would have been capable of doing it herself but Open Roads has strict rules regarding “weapons”, where needles fall into, and “drugs”, what insulin is. She checked her wrist watch, 12:15. Fifteen minutes equals to three bites. Lunch last for an hour, an hour equals to twelve bites which equal to a quarter meal. Three bites equals one-eighth of a meal. One-eighth of a meal wasted waiting. She thought.

Clair hoped that Open Roads would be a little lenient with the schedule since she would love to eat a complete meal for once. Her therapist said that her habit of ‘savoring every bite’ was due to her life in the street where food tends to be scarce and she’s forced to ration any food she could find. She knows there is some truth to that and so she’d been trying to kick the habit but progress is slow going. The staffs have been motivating her to eat normally and they keep reinsuring her that food won’t run out as long she’s in Open Roads. That’s the thing holding her back – as long as she’s in Open Roads – and what if she’s not in Open Roads anymore? Nope, kicking the habit will take a long while.

She looked in the clinic wondering why the nurses are taking their sweet time. The shelter doesn’t have a large medical staff, just enough to hold down the fort. She couldn’t see much from where she was peaking from so she decided to search for a nurse before she waste more time doing nothing. She grab her crutches, stood up and went inside. Of course with her slow pace, it didn’t took long for a medical staff to notice her and was shown to a bed to wait – again – for her insulin. Irritated, Clair decided to do a little more ‘walking’. They can sit me down once they finally have my insulin. She was in the middle of head-rant when she came across another guest in the clinic, a girl who has a basin between her legs and her head hanging over it. Clair read the girls chart without picking it up. Levi, 16 – Detox/Withdrawal. Maybe out of curiosity or boredom, Clair felt like introducing herself.

“Hi, name’s Clair but people just call me Left-Feet. How you doing?” She gave the girl her friendliest smile.

---

This is not an event/scenario post.

Hope found herself curled up in her bunk, watching her clock tick away the minutes before her next class. As she turned her head away from the clock, she looked at her arm and pulled her sleeve up.She could see a myriad of tiny red dots and purplish bruises. This morning she had run into a door frame trying to get out of the way of some more exuberant residents running totheir class for fear of being late. She winced as she pressed lightly on one of the bruises.
Hope felt so tired. It seemed even as she went to bed earlier and earlier, she still felt this way. The urge to sleep now felt so comfortable. Maybe uit was time to come clean. She had been hiding her condition for a long time now, and it was beginning to really damage her. maybe it hadn't been bad before, but it certainly was now. Hope stood up, taking her bag, and began the walk to the clinic.
It felt like a death sentence. They will thinkyou're lying. They will kick you out for lying before if they believe you. They will take you back to your family where you will do nothing but burden them with your sickness until you finally die.
She was sobbing as she rounded the corner near the clinic, eyes following her, murmers reaching her ears. She walked into the clinic's waiting room and sat down. Tears were streaming down her face and she emitted soft whimpering noises as she waiting for the person who manned the front desk to come back.

Levi raised her head and impatiently threw back her long chocolate hair, looking at the girl who'd just introduced herself with a sharp green-eyed glance. "Levi. Levi Ackerman," she said, introducing herself in turn. She pulled a hand though her tangled hair and said, "What're you up here for?" With a gesture to the near-empty clinic. She figured it was obvious why she was there, and curiosity had gotten the better of her. Before the girl - 'Leftie' as Levi was already thinking of her - could answer, Levi gasped "Verdammt noch mal!" and vomited water - all she'd been able to coax into her ticking stomach - into the basin in her lap. Coughing, Levi rinsed her mouth out with a water bottle on the table next to her cot, spitting into the basin. The nurse who'd been caring for her picked it up, replacing it with an empty one. "Sorry," Levi said, but just about the barfing, but also the German. She tended to switch to her first language - the one her grandparents had taught her - when she was stressed, or not thinking about it.

Azai was siting at the assembly room waiting to see this 'therapist' who was gonna have sessions with, he didn't know he needed it but he didn't feel annoyed by talking to a therapist. Azai didn't feel that there was something wrong with him, or at least not something that needed therapy, but if it was necessary for him to achieve what he wanted from life, he would welcome it with open arms.

As he was waiting a guy approached him. He seemed a bit shy by the way he approached him, but that was a relieve since that first guy he met wasn't a psycho path, and he looked nice and well dressed. The guy sat next to Azai and asked him about his name and he just nodded his head in confirm, then he smirked as he asked about his name, it wasn't the first time he was asked a question like that... " Well Azai is an Aramaic name that my parents gave me, at least that's what the guys at my orphanage told me. And Chasina is also an Aramaic name, it's the last name that I gave myself since I wasn't adopted. Well they both means 'strong'... And you are? "

Bullshit. Absolute bullshit. She expected the assembly to go something like a bunch of brainwashed, stupidly grinning, staff members chatting about how much they loved all of the kids and how this place was a heaven on earth. And now she was being assigned some case worker. She wasn't sure how they got her file, most likely from her school, but god did she wish they stayed away from it. She didn't need help and she didn't want any. And now some stranger had to know all of her deepest, darkest, secrets. She felt sick to her stomach as she left the assembly hall with a frown.

These people must think they are so smart. She growled as she walked towards the dining hall, her hands stuffed deep in her pockets. They must think that they are smarter then her. With their files and cheesy grins. Cal considered leaving tonight, she had her truck and she could always crash on her friends couch. The rumble in her stomach reminded her why she was here in the first place.

She made her way to lunch, loading her tray and mumbling a thank you to the lunch servers. She decided to sit in the seat she did earlier at breakfast. As she began to eat the sandwich that was offered to her, she felt her phone vibrate in he pocket. With a smug grin she pulled the electronic out of her pocket, a message from Ronnie. It said "Good luck" he had just been wrapping up their conversation from earlier. With nimble fingers Cal typed to him "Dude you will never believe it. They assigned me a fucking case worker." Cal could detect his laughter as he replied with "Holy shit that's hilarious.". "Oh man tho Ronnie you would love this place. It's full of potential buyers and they are all like twelve.". Cal had no idea how a bunch of middle schoolers were able to afford to buy drugs.

Learning that Azai was an orphan put things in perspective for Anthony. Open Roads being a shelter for troubled teens meant many of his peers would have troubles that extend far beyond his own. He didn't recognize Armaic which was bothersome. He decided to read up on it in the near future. Azai seemed to be a reasonable kid with a wickedly awesome name. Anthony slowly loosened as the conversation persisted.

“I'm Anthony Ware. Nothing special or interesting about that,” Anthony chuckled lightly, once again pleased by the lack of prior knowledge regarding his identity. “You are an orphan, eh? Must be tough. Great people often go unnoticed. The ones that do get attention often get it for all the wrong reasons.” Anthony sighed. “I ran from my parents. The ones that didn't choose you? They aren't worth your time. They aren't worth the stress. There are people out there who care. I care. I made the decision to run because I decided that it was better to be alone than to be with people who don't care.”

The bell rang for lunch. Anthony jumped to his feet, famished and chomping at the bit to indulge himself. He turned to Azai, “Sorry if I was intrusive. I didn't mean to get all in your business. I'm going to grab some grub, join me.” He offered, hoping he had made a new friend.

Anthony seemed like a great guy, a bit kept to himself but still he seemed like a nice guy, but he wasn't gonna make any judgement yet, Anthony Ware was his name it was cool not bad like he said. Azai smirked, maybe Anthony was right, maybe they didn't deserve the bother and time, and maybe it's better to live alone. But still he never tried that feeling maybe it would've been a better experience for Azai, he didn't that all people are the same, people differ from one another in his opinion. But still Anthony obviously had more experience with the parent matters, and felt good about himself when he said ' great people often go unnoticed', he smiled and said " Well it seems that you had your share of bad experiences in life, after all that's what got you here. And I respect your decision of choosing to live on your own.

Azai stood up and stretched a little " Nah, don't worry about it. I had fun. And yeah, sure I would like to have a bite with you. It seemed that Azai was going to have his first friend here in this place, and he was feeling a bit lucky...

Clair “Left-Feet” Blues

Levi, for all she is, was a mess but she’s holding herself quite well for someone going through detox. Probably ‘cause she just began down the road. Clair has seen enough druggies who gone cold turkey in the streets that things can get really bad the longer they’re off. Maybe the shelter have some methadone stashed somewhere to ease her withdrawal when the time comes but Clair doubts it since major cases tend to be forwarded to the rehab further away. After all, Open Roads focus in general care and not specialized ones. Levi asked what Clair was doing in a near-empty clinic but before Clair got a chance to answer, Levi’s breakfast decided to take the express way out her system, mainly through the oral cavity but some decided to take the nasal route. It wasn’t a pretty sight but if you’ve seen it often enough, you get used to it. A nurse, coming from nowhere, quickly replaced the basin with an empty one. She was gone as fast as she appeared. How does she do that? Is she a ninja or something? Clair wondered but she snapped herself back to the conversation.

“Don’t worry about it! Asides from having two left feet and my crappy lungs – don’t ask, I’ll tell you. I had a bad case of flu that I sneeze my lungs out. That’s what I understood from the bones. So basically, I’m stuck being Darth Vader’s little sister. Anyways, back to your question. I’m actually diabetic. I can’t eat unless I’m dosed up with insulin...” Clair would have continue if she hadn’t notice a new patient being guided to a bed, Hope Daly and she was crying. From all the old timers in Open Roads, Clair is most familiar with Hope. Asides from their passing conversation in the lobby, Hope was briefly assigned as Clair’s buddy during her first week in the shelter. She can’t speak for Hope but Clair grew fond of her. Hope felt like an older sister.

“Hope...” Clair whispered.

---

Erika appreciated mister Crowmarty for the same reason she disliked him, the 'Teacher' in mechanics was a shark. Opened a business in bicycle and motorcycle repair and moved the operation in Open Roads to help the poor kids acquire manual experience, it was genius really, his labor cost him nothing and his profits were deductible as partly charity, plus some generous government grants and voila! Most 'students' went on working on ordinary bicycles and this is what Erika did, at first. She however quickly found herself an ability in engineering and remembering the parts and what made an engine tick. She wasn't a manual character however and even if she did understand, she was slow to actually put any of her skills in practice but no matter how slow she was, she was still one of the rare person competent enough to do Crowmarty's hardest, and most paying, jobs. Her education in fact was little more now than her working for him for, mostly, nothing and while she had a question she went and asked him in his office. It was however getting rarer and rarer as she had quite the memory.

She couldn't clean her hands enough after this and looking at her hands now always created a frown in her face. She was delicate, the kind to type at the keys of a computer or a piano, manual labor was another thing which was as painful as she had imagined.

"We only live to discover beauty. All else is a form of waiting."
--Kahlil Gibran

Anyone who did such a job for his entire life was a sucker and she was convinced of it. Manual labor only serves to achieve the goals of those with the ideas. Still, it was over and it was lunch time. She craved for canard confit with potatoes and a side of haricot with a sauce only the Luxor restaurant in her New England home town had the secret, but what passes as food in Open Roads would do.

_________________

In school, Erika had always been discrete, almost invisible in her demeanor, and surprisingly silent with her loafers. Today was no exception and as she walked to a table with her meal and went pass a girl with short hair who paid no attention to her, her quick wits couldn't help but notice a little something.

"Oh boy, and you're on your what, first week here? Haven't you heard? Winners don't use drugs." So she said, looking down on Callie's phone from behind her, with her pretentious quasi british accent.

On any other day before, Erika would have dropped a comment and then walked away to her own table, but not today. The reason? She was bored. The lunch time was 1 hour, more than she ever needed by half an hour and so, she needed a distraction. Something like a verbal joust. And so Erika sat right in front of Evans with a corner smile, again, oozing with arrogance and her eyes fixed on Callie's. *Now, distract me, pleb.*

Anthony darted to the dining hall, hoping Azai didn't have too much trouble keeping up with him. The combination of his height and athletic muscle memory caused him to speed walk. There isn't any strolling on the court. Anthony ducked as he entered the dining hall and slid in line accompanied by Azai. He looked around at everyone talking. Some looked cool, others not so much but he attempted to remain optimistic.

“Looks like is just you and me for now. Two days ago I would've told you that this was my dream.” Anthony said shaking his head. Back home Anthony felt jaded. He could have anything he wanted. He could befriend anyone at school. He could get any girl he pleased. He could even sell out and get all the material items he could ever ask for. Anthony wanted none of it. This he was sure of. He thought he wanted to be alone to pursue the things he loved without the leeches. The truth was what he really wanted was people who cared about him, and not his position on the school's all-time scoring list. Anthony's brood session was cut short when the line began to move.

“Something tells me this place is going to be really interesting. Hopefully the transition isn't rough.” He continued, noting some of the rougher kids roaming the dining hall. “But for once I'm actually a little excited. My life was bland. Basketball, Basketball, Basketball. I bet having friends is nice.” He laughed. He had laughed more times in the past 10 minutes than he had in the past 3 years. “Which brings me to my next point. My case worker asked me about roommates. I told him I didn't know anyone. Now I do. I'm pretty sure you're not an axe murderer or anything but who knows, I'm willing to take the risk. What do you say?”

Callie's face visibly scrunched with rage as Erika spoke to her. Her hands clenching up into fists as she stuffed her phone back into her pocket. This girl. Oooh this girl. Cal did not like her one bit. She literally was swimming in arrogance and sounded like she was speaking with some fake, cheesy, accent. Cal was trying to restrain herself. She didn't want to get expelled for fighting, but physical fighting was all her knew. Cal glared down Erika as she tried to think of something to say to this lady, who seemed to be going out of her way to make her day worse. She could have just walked off, told an adult or something, but she didn't need their help. "How about next time you mind your own business." She leaned back, suddenly not hungery despite her full plate and empty stomach. "And as for "winners don't use drugs"" Cal said, making air quotes and rolling her eyes. "You shouldn't waste your breath saying that shit to me I'm sure every other kid here is on something." Cal's voice suddenly got very sarcastic as she attempted to keep Erika away with words. "Oh, you can turn it into a little game to occupy yourself. Just close your eyes, stick out your arm and spin around. I'm sure whatever kid you point to is on withdrawl." Deep breath Cal. No fighting. Cal was pretty much on a downhill here, if Erika provoked her anymore she would end up loosing it.

Alistair smiled at Isa as the bell sounded out through the halls of Open Roads. He sighed a little. This meant assembly for the new ones and classes for him. He hated his classes, stubbornly unwilling to attempt to learn from the people here, he decided to take his guitar with him. He gave a wink to Isa before she left "you ever wanna chat...just come find me hun" he smiled and stood up from the table, not bothering to say goodbye to the other occupant.

His bare feet padded across the cold floor of the building, his body simply moving through crowds to return to his room. He changed into more appropriate clothes for the outside world, tight red jeans and a shirt with a skull in its center printed in a multicolored paisley pattern. He tossed his old leather jacket on and tied his beaten up high tops. Grabbing the guitar that lay on his bed once more, he stepped out of his room and made his way through the corridors of Open Roads. He found the room he and two others usually met their case worker and found to be the first one to arrive. He started to play an acoustic version of Iron Maidens 'Number of the Beast' as he waited.

Erika took the time to unfold a napkin and place it on her lap and taking her utensils to cut her meal in a fashion that would make the author of 'Good Manner: A manual of etiquette in good society' blush. She normally didn't bother with normal people, or at least not with the normal people here, but Erika could always spot people which this would annoy to the highest level. It was in their haircut... Oh yeah, that's a good one, rage inducing she was certain.

"Well, if by 'Kid's', you mean one of our illustrious residents, you are wrong, as I am not, never have been and if God wills it, never will be on drugs, ergo, you cannot withdraw from a substance you do not use." She wasn't actually a believer, a firm atheist she was actually, but placing 'God' in a sentence so solemnly was always something funny to do.

"Let's assume you meant any younger person, well I'd use the technicality of what you've said, as 'Whatever kid I point is on withdrawal' at the moment I point them. While I am sure that the average here as, at one time or another, decided to be a looooooooser and do drugs, my chances of not pointing at one currently in withdrawal are still extremely high." She took a bite and before Callie could talk quickly swallowed and proceeded.

"I'm sure there are other ways to interpret what you said, but I can't indefinitely deconstruct and reconstruct the grammatical composition of your sentences. You see, my young friend, this is why english classes are important, to insure humans can communicate with all the nuances available to our minds to express and why it is important not to do drugs, for it damages the networking of our cognitive systems and make us say and do things that are inappropriate. It's not a good idea for anyone to do drugs, I mean, look at your hair..." At this point, Erika had putted down her fork and was struggling not to laugh. No, she shouldn't have gone that far she thought, but not because this may lead to an aggression from Callie, but because it was so over the top, no one could be like Erika was right now, in all honesty, more than anything she expected Callie to laugh right about now.

Erika began to open her mouth to talk again.

Cal didn't even let Erika finish her thought. As soon as Erika dissed her hair and she just kept talking and talking with her stupid sounding voice. Every single word out of this girls mouth felt like a fucking punch to the face. Every word felt like she was trying to get above her. This chick knew that Cal wasn't smart, and she was using that to her advantage. Cal kept her mouth shut as Erika kept talking and talking and making herself more and more powerful. Cal had her fist balled up at her sides. She wasn't breathing and she wasn't even thinking.

Cal hated this girl.

Without even thinking Cal stood up, grabbing Erika by the collar of her shirt. She forced the girl to her feet. Her eyes were filled with rage. "Fucking shut up. Shut up shut up shut up!" She started shaking her by her collar. By now she knew that she was attracting the attention of adults, but she didn't care at all. She just wanted Erika to stop talking. Some adult would have to drag her off by her neck before she let go of Erika.

Rule #3 – Any conflict not solve in a mature way will grant immediate expulsion for guests and a warning for residents – was probably the hardest rule to uphold by most of the teens in Open Roads. Despite the shelter being a safe haven, these kids normally bring their demons along hence the scene Hugh was currently seeing is a usual sight, especially among newbies. Hugh was an old timer, so he has seen his fair share of in-house violence but what surprised him was that this fight has Erika in it. From what he’s used to, Erika tends to keep to herself. He doesn’t know if it’s because she’s a loner or an utter snob but that’s beside the point. Erika was currently being manhandled by a new girl whilst she cursed and they’re gathering an audience. Out of the corner of Hugh's eyes, he saw one of the kitchen staff call security.

Boy, hope they’re not too late ‘cause these girls are about to show some claws. Hugh thought as he stood on his chair to get a better view of the eventual fight.

---

This is an event post. Depending on the posts of the players, certain outcomes may happen.
Hugh is an Common Playable Character (CPC). Other players may control Hugh.

And so... Erika kept talking. She knew she should shut up, maybe beg would do more good, but she couldn't lose face, no, she was in control she thought, Callie couldn't be stupid enough to hit her with so many witnesses.

"I tell what's on your phone and you're on the streets, you hit me, I call the police and you're in jail. So use your wits, let go of me-" Erika was about to add 'And if you say you're sorry I might let this slide', but looking at the eyes of the person in front of her she began to have doubts. She didn't try to move her face to stop looking at Callie, but still turned her eyes in another direction as to not stare at her eyes, clenching her teeth and her fists, her instinct telling her to prepare to fight.

Did Erika have something to prove? Yes, after she lashed at Rhodes last week everybody thought she was a spoiled geek that couldn't do without her computer, to be called a coward on top of that. Still, her mind went on wondering why the hell nobody was breaking them up yet, and to how painful a fist to the face would be right now.

Anthony was tall guy with tall legs, it was a bit troubling for Azai to keep up with him. He thought he must be a basketball player. Azai had a new prescriptive of height when they were entering the dinning hall, he wasn't a short guy, but to duck while entering! Anthony made him feel ashamed of his height. A feeling Azai rarely experienced. It was just like breakfast piles of teenagers. Azai sighed as he turned up towards Anthony " Well it seems so... "

Azai noticed Anthony looking at the rough kids, and then a thought hit him. This place was not a dangerous place, yet not so safe too since much of these kids here were trouble makers and messed up psychologically, he felt a bit nervous and felt the need to get stronger... Anthony was talking about his life before coming to O.R, and it was like he figured he was a basketball player " Well it surely was fun, basketball is a great sport." Anthony was laughing a lot, Azai didn't know what was that about but he smiled " Jeez, you sure look like you're having fun. " Then Anthony asked to be roommates, it didn't seem like a bad idea he didn't think he could find someone nicer than Anthony " Well if you look at it from my perspective, you're the scary monster. But yeah sure we can be roommates, it's gonna be interesting... "