Four in the morning was Gankona's first real wake up call, a large banging sound having gotten him flinging himself from his cot in the homeless shelter. The abrupt crashing continued two or three times until a burly, maternal voice called from the kitchen:
"Breakfeast time!". Oh, yeah. Breakfeast. With Gank's usual schedule, he almost always forgets that most important-meal-of-the-day bullcrap. Well, what can you do when a public organization force feeds you? throwing his scattered sheets back onto the cot, Gankona rummaged through a torn backpack for his messy assortment of belongings. Scarf, check. Wrappings, check. Shorts, check. That's pretty much all he needed for today, or any day.
Slowly, Gankona slugged himself to the makeshift community kitchen right outside his complimentary
"living quarters", that of which was shared with about 50 other people. Getting in line with many of the other homeless, the goat-boy picked up his plastic bowl as a rather kind-faced lady plopped some oatmeal down onto it.
"You got a big day, Gankona! Aren't you excited? I'm so glad you get an oppurtunity like this.", the young woman beamed, looking up at the goat-boy as if she waited for an almost as enthusiastic response.
"Yeah, I'm just too tired to appreciate it, Ya' know? Sure. Now, where did Officer Mashakeshi say it was again?""Oh, They're gonna pick you up. Just go to the corner of Sakur and Yukka and there'll be a truck there at 7.""Ok, Thanks."
Gankona took those gracious three hours to scrounge around some dumpsters found behind the not-yet-open restaurant on Sakur and Yukka. Soiled forks, scraps of actually tasteful food, a few ribbons of cloth here and there. Overall, Gank merely took it upon himself to eat as much good stuff as he could before the truck arrived; oatmeal could only do so much. He managed to get in a few interesting bites as he rumaged: a whole plate of uneaten alfredo, some breadsticks, and a meatball. Better than his first breakfeast, by far.
Finally, the clatter of an old steel engine and the turning of coarse, beaten wheels brought Gankona out of his feasting state; the truck had arrived.
Walking towards the street, Gank took a good browse of the truck; Damn, it really did look as busted as him. But, it worked, and that's probably all the school could afford. The LOSER decal was a nice touch, though. Gankona took one big leap from the paved streets into the bed of the truck, rocking the whole vehicle with the force of his impact. The bearded man yelled back a warning and some curses; luckily, Gank hadn't dented the bed so bad as he would notice. The other students started to pile in after him. Oh, yeah, there were others who had failed just as hard as him. Surprising. But they didn't look much like utter failures, did they? One of the most appalling offenders of this was a tall, cleanly cut young man with blonde hair and blue eyes that entered the truck bed after Gank. Now, how the hell did a rich, privy kid get sent to LOSER (Wait, hadn't Gank seen that kid from somewhere. The police station, right)? Afterwards, some other flavorful characters followed; A fisher-man's boy, a completely uninterested, black-haired teen, and another blondey; except this one seemed a lot more like Gankona. Then, finally, there was a rather short, brown-haired girl. She was also the only female here; goes to show, boys really do drool.
Looking down the other-side of the truck bed, the
midget girl seemed to having a little bit of trouble jumping onto the tall truck bed. Pulling his body over to her side, Gankona grabbed her ungracefully by the hoodie and pulled her up into the only other seating spot available. She seemed to not appreciate the help much, but it got the job done.
As the truck started its engine once again, the proper boy beside him removed a pack of cigarettes swiftly from his pocket. Leaning over, Gankona asked,
"You mind?", before taking a cancer stick from the package and lighting it with the kid's own lighter. Ah, good ol' nicotine. It'll make the drive go faster.
By the time the group had gotten to LOSER, Gankona had smoked a total of three of the other kid's cigarettes, throwing the buds out of the car as they shriveled into petty ashes. Now, as the truck approached their final destination, Gankona finally addressed Karada formally.
"Name's Gank. Thanks for the smoke" As the truck finally slowed to a stop, Gank leapt out first-and-foremost among the group, shaking the entire truck once again to its driver's dismay. However, instead of cussing at the goat-boy again, the driver merely shouted,
"Line up side to side at the bottom of the stairs. Give your name up one at a time. The boss doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Easy enough. As Gankona passed the supposed
"boss", he gave a nod and said in a cheery tone said,
"You remind me of someone." before tapping his curly horns. On first inspection, he liked the guy. Seemed cold, analyzing, not anything like the forcefully happy and warm police officers back in the city. This guy was a different kind of authority; he enjoyed the chilling difference.
Gankona lined up beside Karada.
"It's Gankona."