Times are in SLT.
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Conditioning with Coach Nara
Join Coach Nara for another Strength and conditioning class in the Gymnasium
Times are in SLT.
Join Coach Nara for another Strength and conditioning class in the Gymnasium
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Word on the street... In Hathian’s bruised underbelly, rumor travels faster than sirens. Whispers tell of a brutal ambush behind Comiquities—an officer found bleeding and battered, the work of masked wolves in the city’s war on order. Later, the Vudu Spice Shop turned battlefield: fists flew, tasers crackled, and old scores were settled between police and notorious outlaws. Shattered glass and bruised egos marked the aftermath, with the law dragging more than one legend to cold, steel cells. Meanwhile, in shadowed clubs and smoky bars, a dancer's playful defiance flickered, hinting at vulnerability behind every wink. Trust is scarce, but gossip? That’s Hathian’s true currency.
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... Night draped Columtreal’s crumbling halls as shadows stretched beyond ambition and old brick. Whispers curled from the Get Woke counter, where a certain faculty member—coffee in hand—was spotted exchanging hushed words with a sorority hopeful, sparking rumors of clandestine alliances forming after hours. Meanwhile, the Burger Pit’s neon glow bore witness to more than fries and shakes—a heated argument erupted by the curb, and some say debts were settled under the table with more than currency. Across the quad, a faculty office door was ajar late into the night, fueling talk of secrets hidden within the asylum’s bones. Yesterday, the university’s undercurrent pulsed with intrigue—what will today unveil?
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