Times are in SLT.
2026 CU Cheer Squad Tryouts Part 2
2026 CU Cheer Squad Tryouts Part 2
Thursday 8th January 3pm to 4pm
Come try out for the 2026 CU Cheer Squad.
Times are in SLT.
Thursday 8th January 3pm to 4pm
Come try out for the 2026 CU Cheer Squad.
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Word on the street... Hathian’s pulse beat stronger than ever under yesterday’s leaden sky, each shadow stretching just a little further. Whispers snake through the alleyways of the Pie Hole—some say a deal gone sour ended in blood, a knife drawn quick and cold. Meanwhile, word spreads about a mysterious newcomer spotted at the Daily Grind, armed and vanishing like smoke before the blue lights could trap her. Tension simmers behind the precinct walls, with one long-timer cuffed and thrown into the cellblock, fueling speculation that fractured alliances and power plays are brewing just beneath the surface. On these streets, no secret stays buried for long.
Whispers in the bayou... Another night slid through the rotten teeth of Laveau, and the bayou whispered secrets between the slick brick alleys. Word dripped from the marina that someone snuck illicit cargo off a battered trawler—boxes that glowed faint in the dark, guarded by men who didn’t blink at gunfire. Meanwhile, at the Barracuda, an argument between a wildcard regular and a Syndicate hardcase left a shattered glass and more than one black eye for the floor to clean up. And atop the old jazz bar’s balcony, a shadow broker met with desperate souls, peddling rumors that the Penitentiary’s silence is about to break. Watch your back—Laveau’s hungry.
Rumors on campus... Columtreal’s ivy-strangled paths whispered new secrets last night, humming with the pulse of old ghosts and fresh ambition. As dusk pooled beneath the shadows of the old asylum, determined souls faced demons—some literally—wrestling control in tense, smoke-filled corners. Rumor flickers about a clandestine bond to a grave, grief and loyalty dancing beneath the surface, fueling unseen rivalries. Elsewhere, wary eyes watched the courts, recalling streetball violence and whispering that the upcoming tryouts might turn bloodier than ever. Beneath it all, the dorms thrummed with playful bravado and veiled aches, hinting that Columtreal’s masked passions are far from tamed. Sleep lightly, dreamers.
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