Aberrant: Wild Card - Dis-Orientation[Fin]

[Abner Ubchek]

It was the quarterly herding of the new students from place to place common on campuses (campi?) everywhere, and Abner had latched on to a straitlaced and properly flabbergasted fellow Comp Sci student named Jerome Malachus. Jerome was a coffee-colored young man with glasses and a Baptist upbringing, and despite being horrified at the jokes Abner was cracking, he wasn't exactly pulling away, either. Get Abner going, and he could be as hypnotic as a car crash.

And Abner was in rare form today. Somehow, just staying soft enough to not jar the guide, but loud enough to make Jerome sweat a bit, Abner had made the most surreally offensive running commentary on just about everything the Tacoma campus had to offer.

Suddenly, he stopped. In a voice that married hysterical laughter to near-religious awe, he elbowed Jerome in the ribs and said, "Duuuude. Oh. My. Goth. Check her out."

Jerome looked over, and saw a...pleasantly plump...young lady wearing dark clothing sporting the picture of a woman with a ball-gag in her mouth and the attractive caption, "SHUT UP, BITCH!" Her short shorts were black, as were her fishnet stockings and structurally-precarious high-heel boots. The backpack held together with numerous buttons and the industrial bits of steel through her ears, nose, and face rounded out the picture. Jerome was convinced on sight that she was possessed. By what, he had no idea.

She was, apparently, prime Abner fuel. "Damn, the Gothapotamus in her native habitat. She is all three of the women I will lose my virginity to in one precariously-packed, ready-to-explode package. I wonder how much bondage gear she has cleverly concealed in her dorm room. I wonder how much of it has to do with, like, her fantasy of some guy riding her naked around the campus at night." Jerome just stared at Abner in stunned horror.

Abner went a bit further. "Dude, are you telling me you wouldn't tap that ass? Are you shitting me!? That ass is a natural resource, just waiting to be tapped by a small country! If I hit it off with her, I could live, like, inside of her and have a mobile apartment! I'd have closet space, room for a La-Z-Boy, a fridge...I wonder if I lay enough pipe, could I convince her to wear a satellite dish in her hair so I could get good programs? Whaddaya think, could I con her into making it a fashion thing among her vampire friends?"

Jerome just closed his eyes and shuddered, dying a little inside. "I think that, even for a white man, you need help. In a big way."

"Dude, we don't all grow up to be rampaging gun-nut serial killers." Even if he suspected Jerome was serious about having problems with white people, it would not have phased Abner in the slightest, or slowed him down. "What, are you concerned about her delicate feelings? Or do you really think she'd kill us and devour us in a Satanic ritual?"

Jerome said, "Actually, I meant what I said: I think you're just wrong, period. And you'll probably get me killed, yes."

Abner grinned. "You think that's wrong? Here's wrong for you, my man. Four answers: Ham, chicken, turkey, or beef. The question: What kind of gravy do you think she douches with?" Abner laughed as he saw his new friend turn from light coffee to green.

Jerome blinked a few times, and swallowed his gorge down. "Oh, Lord, that is so nasty!" He caught his breath, and looked at Abner in horror. "Seriously, they make a ham gravy?" It was the least wrong thing out of all the wrong things that Abner had said, and it still left him slightly dizzy.

It was at that point Abner just lost it, enough to attract the guide's attention. Of all the things to focus on...

[z-Matt McShae]

[Nadya Lunălescu]

The silver Jetta pulled into the student parking by Area 17, tires squealing to a stop. She may have moved out of the dorms, but Jadzia had kept her parking space, since she knew where everything was in relation to it. She just hoped she didn't run into Maddy Sinclair; she didn't need that psycho-bitch yelling at her some more.

Jadzia popped out of her car, slinging an oversized computer bag over her shoulder. She was wearing a pair of baggy, green cargo pants and a black shirt that proclaimed, "WoW Major, Sleep Minor," with an open plaid button-down shirt over that. Her shoulder length, black hair was streaked with vivid red, she had a studded wristlet on her right arm, and her All-Stars were as bright as the streaks in her hair. Her smile was warm as she headed across the green.

She traded nods and greetings with a fair number of students along the way. She was relatively well known among certain of the students as the 2008 WoW 3x3 Arena Champion, along with her pro gaming team Absol33t. She gave updates to the people she saw on the states of their art commissions, and the friends she saw gave her warnings about where Mad Maddy was. I might get through this without a fight.

She had come to campus today to talk with Pete about some strats for the upcoming Halo tournement, and to switch an elective. She wanted to leave Monday nights open for Arena matches. On the way to the registrar's office, she paused to listen to Matt's rendition of Mad World with a smile. Every time she heard that song, she saw the commercial for the original Gears of War.

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Jadzia gave out a holler of appreciation and pumped her fist. "You rocked it, Matt! Love it!" Jadzia called out in her distinctively husky voice, sexy and slavic accented. "You know any Pink Floyd or The Who?"

Waiting only briefly for a reply, Jadzia continued on the Registrar's office, huffing slightly under the wait of her bag, and the few extra pounds she carried. Meh, I start going to the gym... soon.

Switching electives was a breeze. Two extra years of experience in college and being friends with the right people let her bypass all the noobs with their problems. Monday nights were now free for all that PvP goodness.

She headed back to Area 17, already planning on how Absol33t would crush Carbon this year. And the best thing was, no Mad Maddy! Whee!

[Ira Sagebrush]

Originally Posted By: Abner Ubchek

It was at that point Abner just lost it, enough to attract the guide's attention. Of all the things to focus on...

"Is there something you'd like to share Abner? Aside from your ascerbic wit? Or may I continue being your Guide on this fine Washington day?" the escort asked, his eyebrows raised expectantly as the rare Northwest Sun glinted off a gold tooth as he smiled.

The older man was dressed in a simple black suit with a white t-shirt underneath declaring that 'Jesus Is My Homeboy' while depicting the Savior with his crown of thorns in black and white. A deck of cards could be just seen poking out of his breast pocket, a red rubberband winding around them lengthwise. The man's tailor was lacking in skill and in dire need of training, as his highwater slacks revealed a pair of hightop red converse, the normal star logo replaced with diamonds.

[Abner Ubchek]

"HEE!...*Ahem*" Abner, ribs hurting after that unintentional burst of comedy from Jerome, just about started over again now that he had a close-up look at their guide, no doubt a casualty of 60's pharmacology. A hundred typical Abner responses leaped to his mouth in a desperate bid to escape, most of them clever ways to comment on the guide's wardrobe, but all that made it out was:

"Hey, man, if you gotta insist on talking while I'm trying to interrupt over here, go ahead."

Jerome, horrified, sighed deeply and said to the guide, "Sir I apologize, I don't know this fool, I have no idea where his attendant is."

That gave Abner the excuse he needed to start giggling again. When the guide turned back to the rest of his group, starting his tour speech where he'd left off, Abner recovered enough to whisper to Jerome, "I want that man's tailor on my speed-dial."

It didn't occur to either of them to ask themselves if they'd actually introduced themselves to the guide or not.

[z-Matt McShae]

[Helen Booth]

Lizzie walked briskly across the campus, on her way to pick up a copy of her class schedule. She needed to go over it again, and they wouldn't have wireless internet at the apartment until next Monday. In the meantime, she wanted to go ahead and get organized before classes started, and plan out a weekly routine. And that required a copy of her class schedule.

She had left Eddie back at their new apartment to unpack the disaster that was his luggage. It was the first year they had gotten one, instead of living at the dorms. But their Dad had gotten a couple great displays of more well-known local artists at the gallery last semester that had brought in quite a bit of extra cash, and so had been able to increase the amount of spending money the twins had access to at school this year. They'd had the choice of using the money for new vehicles or an apartment, and they were more than happy to keep going with their old clunkers if it meant moving out of the dorms. It gave Lizzie a quieter environment to study, and it gave Eddie a quieter place for his meditation. Her lips twitched in amusement at the thought. Well, at least they'd both enjoy the quiet, for once. And at least she had some say in when the wild parties would get thrown this way.

The sunny day was rare enough for Lizzie to not feel like hurrying too much, though - that, and the fact that she was pretty sure she'd have to finish cleaning up after Eddie when she got back, and pick up where he'd left off with the unpacking. She was dressed in a pair of hipster jeans with a bit of a flare to the leg, and a brown tank top worn over a white one that showed only a little on top and with the straps. She wore a matching brown belt with a white pattern etched into it, and practical brown mountain boots that stood up well to the constant wetness of the northwestern weather. On her left wrist was a simple wooden bangle, carved with celtic knotwork. Her right arm needed no decoration, for the tattoo that covered her bicep drew enough attention as it was. It wasn't necessarily fashionable, but it flattered her figure well and gave you a sense of the woman. It was also comfortable, and that scored high on Lizzie's priority list.

As she crossed the campus, she heard the sounds of guitar music. It was good enough to draw her attention, and she found herself leaning up against a tree as she listened to the man playing. She'd inherited a deep love of music from their Mom, and a certain fondness for classic rock in particular from her Dad. She listened to his Pink Floyd rendition and clapped along with the others, then focused as he plucked out his notes softly, lips pursed a bit in concentration as she tried to identify the song. Eventually she realized it wasn't anything she had ever heard before, and settled back again to enjoy the playing, hoping the interruption between the guide and the new students wouldn't cause the playing to stop.

[Ira Sagebrush]

Deuce's head turned quickly over to Matt as he plucked out the song, a serious look on his face for mere moments before the normal broad smile crept back onto his face. As the song completed, he led the group past the would-be musician, flipping a coin into the open guitar case as he walked by.

[z-Matt McShae]

Matt nodded to Deuce, his cheeks going a little red. He played for pleasure, not profit, and he was never sure what to do when this happened. A couple of times, he'd given the money back, or refused it, and had offended some people. It was just a coin though, and he quickly hooked his toe under the lid and flipped it shut. "No, that's ok," he said to the next person about to toss money in. "Show's free t'day."